One of the Pikata soldiers ran up the steps of the mansion and disappeared inside. The squad leader asked the riders to dismount and had their horses taken to the stables. While Brakas and Zygor waited, Bursar Wicado approached the mansion from the stables. He looked questioningly at the two men before entering the mansion. A few moments later, Marshal Ulmreto came out of the mansion. He approached the two foreigners.
“I am Marshal Ulmreto,” he stated. What is your business with Lord Damirath?”
“We have a business proposition for him,” replied Brakas.
“Then you should be speaking to Bursar Wicado,” the marshal stated as he turned to escort the two men into the mansion. “I saw him enter a few moments ago. I will take you to him.”
“This proposition is not for the bursar,” interrupted Zygor. “We are not traveling merchants seeking a contract for goods. This matter must be heard by Lord Damirath only.”
Marshal Ulmreto stopped and turned to face the two men again. “Lord Damirath is a very busy man,” objected the marshal, “and you are unknown to us. You will deal with the bursar.”
“The security of the Pikata clan is at stake,” insisted Zygor. “We will speak with Lord Damirath or not at all.”
Zygor looked around as if in search of his horse. Marshal Ulmreto hesitated as he observed the foreigners. Finally he sighed and nodded.
“You will leave all weapons here,” declared the marshal as his men stepped forward to search for hidden weapons.
Brakas and Zygor allowed the Pikata soldiers to remove their weapons. Zygor snickered in contempt as the soldiers performed their duty. When the search was complete, Marshal Ulmreto escorted the two foreigners into the meetings room.
“Wait here,” he ordered. “I will return with Lord Damirath in a few moments.”
When the marshal had left the room, Brakas began to speak, but Zygor held up his hand for silence. A few minutes later the marshal returned with Lord Damirath and two soldiers. The soldiers took up positions on each side of the doorway.
“I understand you have information regarding the safety of the Pikata estate,” greeted Lord Damirath. “What is it?”
Brakas turned and looked at the two soldiers standing by the door. He shook his head slowly and turned to face the Pikata lord.
“I understand the need for your marshal to be present,” Brakas stated, “but common soldiers are unacceptable. It is dangerous for us to even talk about this information with you, but we are willing to take that risk. We will not speak in front of mere soldiers, though.”
Lord Damirath frowned and was about to order the two foreigners thrown from the estate, but fear of treachery from his neighbors stopped him. He scowled as he nodded to Marshal Ulmreto. The marshal ordered the two soldiers to take up their posts outside the meeting room.
“This had better be important,” grumbled Lord Damirath. “I do not care much for your methods. Now, what is so important that it requires my immediate attention?”
“Your estate lies close to the Fakaran border,” Brakas said as he approached the wall map behind Lord Damirath. “I am from Fakara, and I have information about what is going on there that will affect your estate.”
Lord Damirath turned to look at the map while Marshal Ulmreto kept his distance so that he could watch both foreigners.
“What is happening in Fakara?” asked Lord Damirath. “I heard that Grulak had been killed and the Jiadin scattered throughout the land. I have heard nothing of danger to Khadora since that time.”
“What you have heard is true,” replied Zygor as he approached the map and stood behind Lord Damirath. “What you have not heard is the resurgence of the Jiadin under new leadership. Tell him Brakas.”
Brakas started pointing to areas on the map. “Here, here, and here,” Brakas began. “Those are recruitments camps for the new Jiadin. We have just come from one of those areas. We learned that the Jiadin are selling their services to Khadoran lords.”
“Khadoran lords?” asked Marshal Ulmreto as he was drawn to the map. “Which lords and how many men?”
“Three clans have already been identified,” Brakas continued. “The Vessi, Glamaraldi, and Lejune each have been allotted five thousand Jiadin warriors. These men have already moved into Khadora and are wearing the uniforms of their host clans.”
“Fifteen thousand men?” the marshal said with a sharp intake of breath. “This will cause havoc among the clans. Show me the location of the camps again.”
As the marshal stepped forward, Zygor’s hand shot out and clamped onto Ulmreto’s shoulder. The marshal halted awkwardly, his face a grimace of pain as Brakas continued pointing to the map for the lord’s benefit. The lord was engrossed in following the foreigner’s finger across the map. He did not notice the marshal was not talking until he heard the thump of a body hitting the floor. Lord Damirath turned quickly and stared at Marshal Ulmreto’s body.
“I think it is his heart,” Brakas said quickly as he knelt alongside the marshal’s body. “He is dead.”
Lord Damirath’s mouth opened to call for help, but Zygor moved swiftly. Both of Zygor’s hands gripped Lord Damirath’s neck. Brakas rose swiftly and shoved a piece of cloth into the lord’s mouth. Damirath’s eyes opened wide in horror.
“Move the marshal’s body closer to the door,” Zygor instructed Brakas as the mage’s eyes closed in concentration.
Brakas dragged the marshal’s body across the floor. He turned and saw a flash of black smoke as Zygor disappeared. As he watched with his mouth wide open, Lord Damirath removed the cloth from his mouth and grinned.
“Fairly simple, wasn’t it?” snickered the new Lord Damirath.
“Is that really you, Zygor?” questioned Brakas.
“It is,” sighed the mage. “I wish they had chosen a younger body. I feel old inside this one.”
“What happened to your old one?” asked Brakas as he gazed at the empty black cloak on the floor.
“Up in smoke,” shrugged Lord Damirath as he bent down and picked up the cloak and tossed it into the corner of the room.
“All right,” Brakas shook his head. “Now how do we get out of here?”
“We don’t,” explained Lord Damirath. “We call for a healer because Marshal Ulmreto has fallen ill. There will be quite a bit of confusion, I guarantee. During that confusion, you will leave and carry out the rest of our plan. They will not even notice that the one called Zygor is missing. I will be remaining here as Lord Damirath. My first act will be to find a new marshal. Have our men ready to move here within the week.”
“You will barely have time to have uniforms made up for them,” worried Brakas.
“Do not let such small details distract you,” chided Lord Damirath. “There are many people on this estate to make uniforms. Open the door for the soldiers as I shout for a healer. Then make haste in getting off the estate. Come back when you have completed this phase of the plan.”
Chapter 7
Year of the Storm
Lord Marak signaled Botal and the squad leader called a halt to the column. Botal and the two cortains gathered around Lord Marak to hear his instructions.
“We are about to enter River’s Bend,” Lord Marak said softly. “This is where we will split up. Botal, your squad will accompany our foreign guests and me on a barge down the river. The two cortes will continue to the capital by road.”
“Why the change?” questioned Botal. “Lord Marshal Yenga will be rather angry if you dismiss your escort.
“Yenga already knows of this change in plans,” explained Lord Marak. “Lord Quavry’s message not only mentioned the caravan leaving Fardale, but also told of my plans to go to Khadoratung. We suspect that our enemy may attempt to ambush us on our way to the capital.”
“I understand the need for the barge,” nodded Botal, “but why not dismiss the two cortes? They are sure to be ambushed even if you are not among them.”