Lord Marak arrived at the Sorgan estate in Watula Valley. The mansion guards saluted smartly and mentioned that Marshal Patoga was expecting him. Lord Marak dismounted and gazed briefly at the star-studded sky before nodding silently to the soldiers. He climbed the steps of the mansion and made his way to the marshal’s office. Marshal Patoga and Seneschal Shamino were waiting for him.
“Is the message in Lord Quavry’s handwriting?” asked Lord Marak.
“It is,” the seneschal nodded seriously. “There is no doubt in my mind that Lord Quavry has betrayed you.”
“Then let us go and attend to this foul deed,” snarled Lord Marak. “I cannot understand what he hopes to gain by his deceit.”
“He seeks your ruin,” interjected Marshal Patoga.
“My ruin will not return the Sorgan clan to his hands,” Lord Marak shook his head. “I have made explicit arrangements in the event of my death that all who owe allegiance to me shall be free men with ties to no one.”
“I suspect he thinks the Lords’ Council will overrule you,” offered Seneschal Shamino. “That is possible. The lords of Khadora would never accept your instructions.”
Lord Marak appeared lost in thought for several moments as the seneschal’s words sank in. He finally realized the truth in the words and vowed to find a way to make sure his wishes would be carried out in the event of his death.
“We should go,” Marshal Patoga said softly. “You both have a long journey ahead of you in the morning.”
Lord Marak nodded, and Marshal Patoga led the way to Lord Quavry’s chamber. Lord Marak opened the door to Lord Quavry’s room without knocking. The three visitors entered quietly, but Lord Quavry was awake and staring at them as they entered.
“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” barked Lord Quavry. “I may owe allegiance to you, but I still demand that you show me the respect due a lord.”
“There is no amount of respect that I could afford to show you,” retorted Lord Marak. “You have violated your Vows of Service to me. Who is the enemy that you conspire with?”
“Enemy?” blustered Lord Quavry. “What are you talking about? I have conspired with no one.”
“We intercepted your bird,” Lord Marak stated impatiently. “Where was it headed?”
“Bird?” echoed Lord Quavry. “I have no idea what you are talking about. If anyone sent a bird from Watula Valley, it was not my doing.”
“I checked with the bird keeper,” interrupted Seneschal Shamino. “He has verified that you released one of your special birds earlier today.”
“He is lying,” snapped Lord Quavry. “I shall deal with him immediately.”
“Stay,” commanded Lord Marak as Lord Quavry rose and started making for the door. “There is no fault to the bird keeper. It is you who are lying.”
“Nonsense,” insisted Lord Quavry. “You have no proof of any wrongdoings by me. This is just some game that you are playing to remove me from power and violate your own words.”
“I do not need a reason to remove you from office,” Lord Marak pointed out. “You serve at my pleasure. I do, however, need proof to end your life. I have the proof, but I am willing to spare your life if you will tell me who the enemy is that you conspire with.”
“I will hear no more of this nonsense,” blustered Lord Quavry. “Present your proof or leave my chamber.”
“I am his proof,” offered Seneschal Shamino. “I read the message that you sent. It not only shows your deceit, but it is unmistakably in your handwriting. Tell Lord Marak what he needs to know.”
“Who are you to order me to do anything?” snarled Lord Quavry. “Where is your loyalty?”
“Loyalty?” echoed the seneschal. “How can a lord who has violated his Vows of Service question another’s loyalty. You have fouled the name of the Sorgan clan with your deceit. Nothing could be more demeaning than to have a clan’s name besmirched by the foul deed of its own lord.”
“I ask you again, Lord Quavry,” Lord Marak persisted, “who was the message sent to?”
Sweat began pouring down Lord Quavry’s face. His eyes narrowed as he looked at each of the three faces before him. Suddenly, he dashed to the table and pulled his sword free of its sheath, but he was too slow in his actions to attack. Marshal Patoga drew his sword and stabbed it into Lord Quavry’s chest. Lord Quavry dropped his sword, a pained look upon his face. His knees buckled and his hand went out to grasp the edge of the table for support, but he tumbled to the floor.
“The name?” demanded Lord Marak. “I will have the name of my enemy.”
Lord Quavry laughed weakly as blood dribbled from the corner of his mouth. “You don’t need a name, Lord Marak,” he gasped as pain wracked his body. “Everyone is your enemy. You are a dead man already. Nobody can stand against the Lords’ Council and expect to win. They will crush you painfully, I hope.”
Lord Quavry’s head fell to the side as he died. Lord Marak shook his head sadly.
“I did not expect anything out of him,” Lord Marak said bitterly. “At least in his death he did not disappoint me.”
“He said more than he should have,” interjected Seneschal Shamino.
“What do you mean?” asked Marshal Patoga.
“The message went to a member of the Lords’ Council,” explained Seneschal Shamino. “We may not know which one, but it is clear that Lord Quavry was dealing with one of them. It makes sense now. Only a lord on the Lords’ Council could make a coward like Quavry defy you.”
“That means that they will be pleased if Lord Marak shows up in Khadoratung for the Assembly of Lords,” frowned Marshal Patoga. “You must cancel your trip until we find out which of the six lords on the Lords’ Council is conspiring to defeat you.”
“I will not let others dictate my actions,” Lord Marak said steadfastly. “What better way to find my enemy than to enter his home. We leave at first light, Lord Shamino. Choose your replacement for seneschal. I will arrive with my escort in the morning, and we will hold a brief ceremony for you.”
Lord Shamino bowed low to Lord Marak before he left.
* * *
The Aritor squad leader halted his troops on the narrow mountain trail. As he dismounted and examined the bushes at the side of the trail, his face clouded over with wonder. His eyes ran up the steep slope, following the trail of destruction. One of the Aritor soldiers came over and knelt next to the squad leader.
The squad leader turned to him and asked, ”Have you ever seen anything like this before? The bushes are torn from their roots and discarded as if some great beast raged up the hill.”
“It would have to have been a creature much larger than any I know,” mused the nervous soldier as he gazed at the destruction. “Fortunately, this is not part of the Aritor estate. Let’s not worry about it and return home.”
“It may not be part of our estate,” agreed the squad leader, “but I think we should investigate it anyway. I cannot fathom a creature so large as to cause this type of destruction just to climb a mountain. Have the men rest. I am going to follow the path to see where it leads.”
“I advise against that,” warned the soldier. “We chose this path through the mountains to save time returning home, but what happens here is none of our concern. We should just return to our estate.”
“Where is your sense of adventure?” chuckled the squad leader. “Imagine the great feast we could have if we capture this beast.”
“If there is any chance of even coming close to that beast,” the soldier said nervously, “I think the whole squad should accompany you. Even small trees have been cast aside by whatever caused this. That is no beast that I would want to face alone.”
The squad leader examined the destruction again and slowly nodded. “You are correct,” he conceded. “It not only tore trees from its path, but it did so while climbing this steep slope. It must be extremely powerful. Have the men join me.”
The squad leader led his band of blue and green soldiers up the steep incline. His eyes panned left and right as he wondered what had blown such a path through the rugged mountainside. Subconsciously he became aware of the whistling wind, but his conscious mind blocked it out as he pondered the force used to blaze the trail. His eyes rose upward and just managed to glimpse the figure of a large man draped entirely in black. The large black specter had his hands raised high, and suddenly the force of wind tore at the squad leader and his troops. The wind was greater than the mightiest of storms, and the squad leader felt his body being thrown from the mountain.