“Emperor Bagora would like to see you in his office,” the soldier said quietly to Lord Marak.
“You will escort me,” Lord Marak replied.
The soldier nodded, but the first of the congratulatory lords had already arrived. For the next fifteen minutes, lords approached Lord Marak before leaving the room. Each of them expressed their congratulations and made a point of stating that they had voted for him. Lord Marak endured the posturing of the lords with a profound distaste, but he kept a smile upon his lips and greeted each lord courteously. When the area around his desk was finally clear of lords, Marak swiftly stepped out of the chamber. The soldier immediately joined him and escorted him to the Emperor’s office.
“Ah, Lord Marak,” smiled the Emperor as the Torak lord entered. “Congratulations on being elected to the Lords’ Council.”
“Thank you, Emperor,” bowed Lord Marak. “Thank you for nominating me. I am indebted.”
“The reason that I asked you here, Lord Marak,” frowned the Emperor, “is to set the record straight. Do not think that I nominated you because I like you. As Emperor, I would never impose my will on the Assembly of Lords in such a fashion to show favor to one clan over another. That is a point that must be clear in your mind.”
“Then why did you nominate me?” asked Lord Marak.
“For the very reasons I mentioned in my speech in the Assembly of Lords,” replied the Emperor. “For too long the Lords’ Council has been the haven for the same clans and the same old ideas. It is time for all of Khadora to participate in running this country. I also feel that we must entertain new ideas if we are to grow, but I am also keenly aware that many of those new ideas will be rejected. This is something that you must learn to understand as well.”
“I will endeavor to remember that,” nodded Lord Marak. “Still, you did break with tradition on my behalf. You could have accomplished your goal with any of a hundred other lords.”
“True,” agreed the Emperor. “There is still the matter of these prophecies you believe in. I am not convinced of their validity, but I understand that you are. If there is any truth contained in those scrolls, it will benefit Khadora to have you in a position to affect change in this country. You are the only lord that met all of the requirements that I had for a candidate. That small show of support from your neighbors in the dining room last night was also impressive. You seem to have a way of making supporters out of enemies. Perhaps you can do that on a larger scale. Do not disappoint me.”
“I will not disappoint you,” promised Lord Marak.
“Good,” grinned Emperor Bagora. “Of course, it did not hurt my decision that I do like you. Now you must purchase a house in Khadoratung. A member of the Lords’ Council needs to be available in times of emergency. Fardale is much too far away to be acceptable.”
“Then I shall see what is available,” agreed Lord Marak.
“You will then be close enough to visit here often,” smiled the Emperor. “I look forward to continuing our discussion on these prophecies. I will contact Marshal Chack and arrange for you to have larger quarters befitting a member of the Lords’ Council. He will also move your seat in the Assembly of Lords to the front of the room.”
“New quarters will be nice,” responded Lord Marak after a moment’s hesitation, “but I would like to remain where I am in the Assembly Chamber.”
“Remain in the back?” questioned the Emperor. “I do not think you understand. The Lords’ Council sits in the front of the room so that the other lords can follow their lead. If you remain in the rear, you will forfeit a great advantage.”
“Perhaps,” shrugged Lord Marak as he thought about giving up the ability to use an air tunnel in the Assembly Chamber, “but my hope is that the lords of Khadora will begin to decide things independently and not always follow the lead of others. Maybe I will change my mind at some future date.”
“Very well,” sighed the Emperor. “Be careful in your dealings with the Lords’ Council. Your election may well bind together the factions that exist there. You should go to their dining room for your midday meal today. They will want to test your mettle, and it is best done without a large audience.”
“A point well made,” frowned Lord Marak. “I will go there directly.”
Lord Marak left the Emperor’s office. Instead of finding the Imperial soldier who had escorted him, Chard greeted Lord Marak.
“I relieved the other man,” smiled Chard. “He did not have time for a meal today so I let him go eat. Where are we bound for?”
“So I am not to be followed any more?” quipped Lord Marak.
“It was a sore point with Marshal Chack that you noticed each man sent to follow you,” chuckled Chard. “Now that you are a member of the Lords’ Council and only have a single squad in the capital with you, it is not unreasonable for the marshal to offer a guide.”
“I like this approach better,” smiled Lord Marak. “Take me to the dining room of the Lords’ Council.”
Chard nodded and led the way. When they arrived outside the dining room, Lord Mirakotto was in the corridor talking to Lord Jamarat.
“Not enough men for your escort,” quipped Lord Mirakotto as Chard separated himself from Lord Marak and moved respectfully away from the conversation.
“I am new to the Imperial Palace,” smiled Lord Marak. “I guess there are times that I need a guide.”
“There will be no guide for you within the realm of the Lords’ Council,” Lord Mirakotto retorted. “I do not know what hold you have over the Emperor, but do not think that he will interfere in the work of the Lords’ Council. He has no standing to do so. You may have taken the seat of Lord Woton, but you can never take his place.”
“I do not wish to take anyone’s place,” Lord Marak replied steadily. “I seek only to do what is in Khadora’s best interests.”
“Khadora’s best interests?” snapped Lord Mirakotto. “You are not yet old enough to be a lord in my mind. What the Emperor was possibly thinking when he nominated you for one of the highest posts in the land is beyond me. Enjoy your stay in the Lords’ Council, Lord Marak. It will be the shortest ever recorded.”
Lord Mirakotto turned and stormed into the dining room. Lord Marak shook his head and turned to see Lord Jamarat glaring at him.
“I am sorry for the loss of your brother,” Lord Marak said to the Neju lord. “I did not know him personally, but I heard bits about his service to Khadora. I am sure that he will be missed.”
“Do not offer your phony words to me,” scowled Lord Jamarat. “All you care about is stealing his seat in the Lords’ Council.”
“Stealing?” frowned Lord Marak. “Let me make one thing clear to you, Lord Jamarat. I did not ask to be on the Lords’ Council, nor did I ever expect to be nominated. I did not ask a single lord to vote for me. I am honored that so many did, and I will endeavor to do my best to serve Khadora as I am sure you would have, had you been elected, but do not accuse me of wrongdoing in this.”
“That seat was supposed to be mine,” huffed Lord Jamarat.
“I expected it to be so,” nodded Lord Marak, “but the result is not my doing.”
“You are right,” conceded Lord Jamarat after a long pause. “The Emperor would never have spoken if Lord Kiamesh had not started it. He is the one who stole Woton’s seat. He did not want the Neju clan to be represented on the Lords’ Council.”
“Of that I know nothing,” shrugged Lord Marak as he realized that Lord Jamarat thought like a child. “You miss him, don’t you?”
A puzzled frown fell over Lord Jamarat’s face as he stared at Lord Marak. Slowly, he nodded.
“Woton was everything to me,” Lord Jamarat said as a lump formed in his throat. “You cannot understand. He protected me when I got in trouble. Now he is gone.”