“They will take that from you when you leave,” declared Gunta. “It was only meant to allow you to visit the Emperor.”
“No!” scowled Mistake. “It is my treasure.”
“But it would allow you to reenter the palace,” shrugged Latril. “You will have to give it up.”
“Never,” Mistake said adamantly.
Lord Marak opened his pack and extracted a Torak pin that identified the wearer as a staff member of the Torak clan. He handed the pin to Mistake.
“Wear the Torak pin when you leave,” he instructed, “and use the Imperial pin when you enter. Never use the same door for both entry and exit.”
“Thank you,” beamed Mistake as she switched pins. “I will return to the inn and see what the people outside the palace are saying. I want to tell StarWind that the Emperor is unaware of the Omungan general being in Khadora.”
Marak smiled broadly as the diminutive Fakaran slipped out the door. “Latril,” he said turning to his mage, “let’s see how icy the reception is in the dining room. Botal, I want a man in this room at all times.”
The Torak squad leader nodded as Lord Marak and Latril exited the room. The Torak lord led the way to the dining room. Lord Marak felt as if he was being watched. With what appeared to be a casual look at Latril, he noticed an Imperial soldier following him. He looked again as he ushered Latril into the dining room, and the soldier was caught unprepared. The soldier dropped his eyes to the floor and continued walking past the dining room.
When Lord Marak and Latril entered the dining room, the conversation immediately died. Everyone turned and glared at Lord Marak. The young lord sighed deeply and escorted Latril to the only empty table, one designed to seat six. After they sat down, light murmurs of conversation started up again. Lord Marak did not need an air tunnel to know that everyone was discussing him. The ugly glares spoke volumes about how Lord Marak was to be treated. As he looked about the room, he saw the Imperial soldier, who had been following him, slip into the dining room and stand with his back to the wall.
In the far corner of the room, Lord Sevrin sat with several lords from the upper reaches of the Macara River. The Ragatha lord sighed with frustration as he listened to the vile comments his companions were making about Lord Marak. Finally, he stood up.
“You act as if Lord Marak is the most vile enemy in all of Khadora,” Lord Sevrin said loudly to the men at his table.
Everyone in the room turned to listen and see what was happening.
“I have news for you high and mighty lords,” steamed Lord Sevrin. “Lord Marak took one of my estates because the man that I chose as lord of that estate was a fool. He attacked Lord Marak without provocation and paid with his life. You might think that such a situation gives me the right to hate the Torak lord, and maybe it does, but I do not. Lord Marak was in the right, and I conceded Woodville to him. As I came to know Lord Marak, I found a Khadoran lord that puts the rest of you to shame. He is a man of impeccable honor and a compassionate conqueror. It is obvious from his state of freedom that he is not responsible for the death of Lord Woton, and yet you all act as if he is. When the rest of you are ready to measure up to the high standards that Lord Marak has set for honor among lords, I will once again sit at your table.”
Lord Sevrin turned and marched to Lord Marak’s table and sat down. A hundred conversations immediate split the air of the room. Lord Sevrin had been a member of the Assembly of Lords for over twenty years, and he was known personally by most of the lords in the room. Before the conversation had a chance to die down, Lord Rybak rose from his seat in the center of the room.
“I must say that I agree with Lord Sevrin,” announced Lord Rybak. “As a Situ, my clan has also been bested by Lord Marak in battle. While I am new here in the Assembly of Lords, I cannot remain silent while many of you disparage his name. I will just leave you with a question and an offer. Ask yourselves why a clan that had been defeated by Lord Marak would speak so highly of him. Answer that question, and you will be vying to sit at his table. As to the offer, I will follow Lord Marak’s offer of a discount to clans that relinquish slavery as the Situ clan has.”
Lord Rybak walked to Lord Marak’s table and sat down. The noise level in the room grew so high that it was impossible for some to listen to the people at their own tables. Lord Shamino and Lord Burdine rose and also relocated to Lord Marak’s table. Lord Marak looked at his lords and shook his head as he smiled.
“You have cast your lot quite early in this war,” Lord Marak stated. “I wonder if it would not have been better for them to think of us as adversaries for a while longer?”
“You do not have a while to think about it, Lord Marak,” answered Lord Burdine. “You were an outcast coming into this room. If we did not act now, your reforms would be dead. By us showing our support for you now, the other clans must come to grips with the fact that you are not an outcast. You are no longer imprisoned, and all of your neighbors are willing to make a defiant stand in your favor. That will cause all of the other lords to reconsider their attitudes towards you, even the ones who are your enemies.”
“He is right,” nodded Lord Sevrin. “We would gain nothing by remaining silent because if this shunning was allowed to stand, you would never be able to propose anything that we could get behind you on. You would never be allowed to speak. Now is the time for us to state our allegiance. It is a rare sight in Khadora to see all of a lord’s neighbors openly defy common sentiment and take a stand in favor of that lord.”
“I thank all of you for doing so,” smiled Lord Marak as he noticed the same Imperial soldier suddenly leave the dining room. “Nothing in your Vows of Service required this gesture.”
“You mean more to us than our Vows of Service,” declared Lord Rybak. “That is not the reason we spoke. We believe in what you are trying to do for Khadora. The others will eventually understand.”
“Even if you have to defeat them one by one,” grinned Lord Burdine.
The dining room eventually quieted down and returned to normal. While none of the other lords approached Lord Marak and spoke to him, several did nod to the Torak Lord as they left the room. After everyone had left, Lord Marak and Latril returned to the Torak quarters.
* * *
Lord Marak had wanted to go to the garden and make contact with Fardale before the morning session of the Assembly of Lords, but a storm had blown in overnight and the weather outside was foul. He paced the room with the nervousness of a caged animal. His mind processed thoughts in an erratic fashion, but one concern kept on reoccurring. He wondered about the Imperial soldier that was ordered to spy on him. He knew that either the Emperor or the marshal had ordered the man to spy on him, but he could not determine why. Did either of them continue to consider Marak as a suspect in the assassination? If the soldier was meant merely as a safety precaution, then why did he leave the dining room to report what had transpired there?
“Stop the pacing,” chided Halman. “You will wear a hole in the floor.”
“Would that be so bad?” quipped Lord Marak. “Were it a big enough hole, I could crawl into it, and everyone would be pleased.”
“What will happen,” retorted Gunta, “will happen. Remember what you spoke of in the Emperor’s office? Perhaps you should let your mind dwell on those types of questions rather than how much the other lords like you.”
“Do you mean about Kaltara?” questioned the Torak lord.
“I do,” nodded Gunta. “You thought he would guide you. Have you changed your mind?”
Lord Marak frowned with a puzzled look on his face as he stared at Gunta. Slowly, he nodded and walked into the small office. He closed the door and sat at the desk. Marak tried to clear his mind of all the troubling questions that were plaguing him. He tried to remember the tales that Lyra had told him of her god, Kaltara, and how he guided her. He recalled the trip to Angragar with Rejji and the Qubari tales of how only the Astor could open the gates that had been sealed by Kaltara. Lastly, he thought about the Chula and his father, Ukaro. The shaman had reinforced the others’ beliefs about Kaltara and stressed that the Torak could always call upon the god to intervene in a crisis.