“You attitude will change over time,” smiled Lord Marak. “In the meantime, find out what Lord Mirakotto is up to. I need to grab a bite to eat. Would you like anything while I am downstairs?”
Lord Patel looked at Lord Marak with surprise, but eventually he smiled and shook his head. “You really would bring me something, wouldn’t you?” he chuckled.
“Why not?” laughed Lord Marak. “We are all human after all. I will be back shortly.”
Lord Marak left the room and went into the kitchen. Several Torak soldiers were eating, as were Mistake and Katzu. Lord Marak grabbed a bowl of stew and a hunk of bread and sat down next to Mistake.
“I could not help overhearing your talk with Lord Patel,” Mistake said softly. “You mentioned the Jiadin at those three estates. Is that true?”
“It is,” Lord Marak nodded. “There are about five thousand at each estate.”
“Then what I heard in Khadoratung may interest you,” Mistake responded. “There are more Jiadin on another estate.”
“Which one?” frowned Lord Marak.
“The one that I…stayed at for a while,” Mistake answered as she shot a glance at Katzu.
Lord Marak understood that Mistake was trying to hide the fact that she had been a slave before Lord Marak freed her. He had no need to embarrass her.
“So the Pikata are hosting Jiadin as well,” he frowned. “How did you find this out?”
“I ran into Bursar Wicado in the marketplace,” explained Mistake. “He said that Brakas and Zygor showed up one day. The Jiadin started arriving the next day. He said that thousands have arrived already.”
“Brakas and Zygor,” Lord Marak frowned. “Those two are long past the time of their deaths. Are they still there?”
“No,” answered Mistake. “Wicado was confused about that, too. He said that Brakas left, but he never remembered seeing Zygor leave. He did say that Marshal Ulmreto also died that day, so I imagine that Zygor left in the commotion that must have followed.”
“If those two are involved with the Jiadin flooding into Khadora,” declared Lord Marak, “we are in for a tough battle.”
“Who are they?” asked Katzu.
“Brakas is a Fakaran who used to follow Grulak,” answered Mistake. “He is a dirty treacherous traitor to Fakara.”
“Zygor may well be something worse,” scowled Lord Marak. “He has magical abilities. He worked for Grulak to help track down and destroy the free tribes.”
“Magical abilities?” questioned Katzu. “Are you sure of this? A man who knows magic?”
“I am sure,” Mistake replied with a heavy frown. “He tried to kill me by shaking the mountain that I was on. He nearly succeeded.”
“Perhaps it was coincidence?” probed Katzu. “Earthquakes are not unknown in this area.”
“Every time Zygor raises his arms?” quipped Mistake. “I know a mage when I see one, Katzu.”
“I have heard tales this last week of another male mage,” frowned Katzu. “I tended to disbelieve those tales, but now you cause me to reevaluate.”
“Aakuta,” Lord Marak stated. “I heard the tales as well. I wonder if he is associated with Zygor?”
“Yes,” nodded Katzu, “Aakuta was the name that I heard. I also heard about the destruction of the palace cells. What do you know about that, Lord Marak?”
“I did not see the person,” answered Lord Marak. “The slit in the door did open before the destruction, but it was too dark to make out facial features. Whoever it was, he had great powers.”
* * *
The caravan paralleled the Fortung Mountains as it passed over the desolate Fakaran landscape. The soil was parched and cracked, and great whirls of dust rose from the lead horses. Werner grabbed his water skin and let a small sip of water roll around in his mouth before swallowing it. He pulled his scarf back over his lips and put the water skin down on the seat of the wagon. He cursed the barren land that Aakuta had brought him to and wondered what the dark mage was up to. The wizard was certainly wealthy after taking the gold from Lord Druck. Why would he then load wagons with seed and come to this forsaken land?
Suddenly, Aakuta halted the lead wagon. Werner pulled back on the reins. The tired horses did not need much coaxing to stop. Werner jumped off the wagon and ran forward to see why they were stopping. He gazed at the wheels of the wagons as he passed to see if any had broken spokes. The wagons were fine, and Werner presumed that one of the lead horses was ailing. When he arrived at the front of the caravan, Aakuta was just climbing down from his seat.
“What is the matter?” asked Werner. “Why are we stopping?”
“This is our destination,” Aakuta replied distractedly as he gazed around at the desolate landscape.
“Our destination?” echoed Werner. “You can’t be serious? This is a desert. Nothing will grow here. It is impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible,” Aakuta scowled as he turned to stare at Werner.
Werner recoiled from the dark eyes that peered into him from beneath the black hood. He felt a chill race up his spine, and he immediately turned away. Aakuta spent several more minutes admiring his chosen location. His eyes scanned the parched soil for any signs of human activity and found none.
“It does not look like anyone comes this way,” Aakuta murmured to himself.
“Most assuredly not,” Werner nodded exaggeratedly. “All of the trails into Fakara follow the rivers out of the mountains. We have been moving away from the river for a full day. Why would anyone come this way?”
“Unhitch the horses,” Aakuta ordered, “and then remove the livestock and tether them to the wagons.”
Werner immediately moved to obey the magician’s orders, but he kept glancing back at Aakuta as if the mage were delirious. Aakuta walked away from the caravan, and Werner watched as the old mage marched far off. As Werner tied the wasooki and clova to one of the wagons, he saw the dark mage raise his hands high over his head. Suddenly, a great funnel of wind rose up from the area where Aakuta had stopped. The tornado grew in size and intensity as dirt and rocks flew skyward. Within moments, the dark spinning cloud mushroomed high overhead. Werner could feel soil raining down on his head as the large tornado blotted out the sun. Werner cringed behind one of the wagons.
The animals grew restless, and the horses started to pull the wagons away. Werner dashed forward to restrain the horses, but the sun shone down on him before he got there. He looked up in awe and saw the great tornado spinning away to the south. He glanced towards Aakuta to see if the magician had been carried away, but the dark mage stood erect watching the storm flee.
Werner unhitched the nervous horses and tied them to the wagons. By the time he was done, Werner noticed that the sun was gone again. He glanced upward and saw dark clouds overhead once again, but this time there was no funnel. The clouds moved rapidly across the sky from all directions as if they were drawn by a magnet. He followed their movement and saw them gathering together over the dark mage.
Werner watched with nervous interest as lightning bolts lit up the dark clouds. Booming blasts of thunder rocked the land, and a tremendous rainfall fell upon the parched soil as if some great celestial giant was emptying a huge bucket. Torrents of rain pummeled the dry soil, and Werner pulled his hood over his head. The storm raged for over an hour and stopped just as suddenly as it began. The clouds turned into mere wisps and were swiftly blown away. Werner squinted out of his drenched hood and saw Aakuta walking towards him.
“There is a nice lake out there,” Aakuta said as he approached Werner. “Take the animals and water them.”
Werner nodded obediently and hurried off to perform his task, but his mind was on the dark mage. The old man had looked extremely tired, but even stranger, the magician’s clothes were dry and clean. Werner looked down at his own clothes, which were caked with mud, and wondered how Aakuta could have avoided both the dust storm and the rainstorm. He shook his head in confusion and untied the first group of animals.