“You are correct about that,” Katzu said as he pictured the Lords’ Council members. “At least you are trying to solve your problems through negotiations. I do think that you have a future as a mediator.”
“How did you become a mediator, Katzu?” asked Lord Marak.
“That is a long story,” frowned Katzu. “My father was the lord of a founding clan. I grew up with all of the education and privileges that such a founding lord’s family was afforded, but I grew disenchanted with the way disputes were solved. Nobody appeared willing to talk about their problems. The first avenue in a dispute was always warfare. My father was no exception, although I knew him to be a kind man. I began to realize that it was not my father’s fault that he acted as he did. It was the culture that we lived in. I wanted so much to change that culture.”
“Were you first in line for the lordship?” asked Lord Marak.
“I was,” nodded Katzu, “but I know what you are thinking. You think that once I became the lord of a powerful clan, that I could affect changes by negotiating my own conflicts. I thought that for a while, too, but I soon realized that was mere folly. It takes two to negotiate, and other lords only recognized force.”
“So what did you do?” asked the Torak lord.
“When my father became a member of the Lords’ Council,” continued Katzu, “I got to see how it operated. I learned about the mediators and what they did. I made my mind up then that the greatest thing that I could do in my short life was to become the best mediator that Khadora had ever seen.”
“I believe most lords would agree that you have obtained your goal,” smiled Lord Marak. “Your words are never disputed.”
“No, they aren’t,” agreed Katzu, “but as with Lord Ridak, there are times when my rulings are ignored. You cannot believe how much that bothers me.”
“I believe that I can,” offered Lord Marak. “Like you, I look forward to the day when all Khadorans will act as brothers instead of scrambling to take advantage of each other.” Lord Marak sighed. “Perhaps we should get some sleep while we can. It is going to be a long day and a longer night.”
* * *
It was dark when Gunta woke Lord Marak. The Torak lord rose and gazed up at the sky. Clouds had moved in, and Marak nodded with satisfaction. He had been worried about the light of the moon giving the Nordon troops an advantage.
“Why was I not woken at midday?” asked Lord Marak
“There was no reason to disturb your slumber,” answered Gunta. “Lord Patel has received your message. Almost all of his forces left shortly after midday. I estimate that there are only two cortes guarding the estate. I figured that this night is going to be quite tiring for you, and you will not get rest come morning, either.”
“What about the reinforcements from the other estates?” asked the Torak lord.
“They were thinking of riding through the night,” replied Gunta, “but StarWind discouraged them. She did not elaborate. They will not arrive before morning.”
“Excellent,” smiled Lord Marak. “What is the status of the two cortes?”
“One corte has gone to barracks,” reported Gunta. “Of the other corte, two squads are at the front of the mansion, and one is patrolling. They are not Lord Patel’s best troops. Their patrols are sloppy, and the men appear to sense no danger. I suspect that most of the second corte will retire soon.”
“That is the problem with only training a select group of your army,” Lord Marak shook his head. “There are times when they are needed in more than one place. When are we due to move out?”
“On your orders,” replied Gunta. “We could wait a couple of more hours, but I think that decision is best made by you.”
“Send Botal, Mistake, and Katzu to me,” ordered Lord Marak. “I want to grab a bite to eat before we leave.”
Gunta nodded and ran off into the dark. Lord Marak grabbed some dried meat and a chunk of bread and sat on a log. Within moments Gunta returned with the people he had been sent for.
“We will be moving out shortly, Botal,” Lord Marak stated. “I want one corte to leave immediately and make their way around to the front of the estate. They are to remain hidden unless they hear the sounds of battle. Send Latril with them.”
Botal nodded and disappeared to give the orders to the Torak soldiers.
“Why do you send the woman with the troops?” asked Katzu.
Lord Marak ignored the question. He did not want to explain his means of communicating to anyone just yet.
“Mistake,” Lord Marak continued, “I want you by my side at all times. When I signal you, you are to use a tyrik dart on the person I point to. Remember, speed is not important here. Silence is.”
“I understand,” Mistake said with an edge of excitement in her voice.
“Katzu, I mean for you to remain safe and removed from battle at all times,” declared Lord Marak. “It might be best if you accompanied the corte leaving now. They will not be called to battle unless things go wrong. If that happens, you can remain safely outside the estate.”
“I would prefer to follow you,” Katzu said. “This mediation is already rather irregular. I do not think how I enter the estate is of any importance.”
“Alright,” frowned Lord Marak, “but I do not wish to enter into the mediation phase right away. I will ask you to remain outside Lord Patel’s presence until I call for you.”
“That is most unusual,” frowned the mediator. “May I ask why?”
“Because your appearance will unsettle Lord Patel,” answered the Torak lord. “I prefer that he have some feel for his situation before the gravity of it sets in. I suspect that he will reveal to me just how he intends to invalidate my victory. That knowledge can save lives.”
“Then I shall comply,” nodded Katzu. “I will remain outside Lord Patel’s presence until I am requested.”
Botal returned and Lord Marak said, “Our second corte is to secure the barracks and keep those in front of the mansion from coming to the rear. Your squad will be coming with me, Botal. We will take out the roving patrol if it is in the rear of the estate. We will enter the mansion from the rear. I want your men to pay particular attention to the safety of Katzu and Mistake.”
“As well as you,” Botal retorted. “I will issue the orders and return.”
Botal disappeared again as Lord Marak checked his weapons. Mistake readied her blowpipe, and the Lords’ Council mediator watched with interest.
“What is that?” he asked Mistake.
Mistake looked to Lord Marak for guidance and the Torak lord smiled. “It is a blowpipe,” he said. “Mistake will use darts loaded with tyrik poison to incapacitate certain obstacles. The tyrik poison will induce an instant paralysis. It has no long lasting effects, but whoever is struck by one will be out of the battle for around three hours.”
“Tyrik poison?” questioned Katzu. “I have never heard of such a thing. What is it?”
“An animal poison from Fakara,” answered Mistake.
“You are Fakaran?” inquired Katzu. “How is it that you are here with Lord Marak?”
“She is Fakaran,” interrupted Lord Marak. “Mistake just happens to be here looking for trade opportunities in Khadoratung. I have known her for a while, and she has agreed to help me with this problem. I would be willing to discuss this further with you, Katzu, but this is not the time for it. For now, let’s just say that with her help, less Nordon clansmen will need to die. I would prefer to poison them for a short while rather than kill them.”
Katzu nodded although it was clear that his curiosity had not been satisfied. “I am pleased that you take the killing of other Khadorans seriously, Lord Marak. Your attitude gives me hope of seeing an end to the senseless bloodshed that infects our society.”
“Our goals are the same, Katzu,” smiled Lord Marak. “I look forward to the end of this particular matter so that we might sit down together and discuss the future of our country. There are dark clouds on our horizon. The squabbling that occurs now among us will be nothing compared to that which is coming.”