“I understand,” nodded the Emperor as he reached into his desk drawer and retrieved a locked metal box. “Take this with you to the home of the Walkan clan. It contains some of my historical research. Perhaps when I step down as Emperor, I will wish to review it.”
“The only way you would step down is if you are too feeble to eat,” smiled Lord Chenowith, “but I will do as you ask. Your room at the estate has been preserved, as it will be for all time.”
“You are a fine son, Chenowith, smiled the Emperor. “I could not have asked for more than what I have received in you. May your sons turn out half as good as you have. Tell the door guards when you leave that I am retiring for the evening.”
Lord Chenowith nodded and bowed to the Emperor. He exited the Emperor’s office and delivered the message before heading for the staircase.
“You heard Lord Chenowith,” smiled one of the Imperial guards as he addressed the other guard. “You are on your own now. I am off for some food and a night on the town.”
“Don’t drink all the ale,” quipped the guard that had to remain on duty.
The off-duty guard laughed and waved as he walked towards the stairs. He walked down one flight and stood for a moment as his eyes scanned the empty corridors. Satisfied that he was not being watched, the soldier moved softly to a suite that was reserved for Imperial guests. He opened the door and slipped into the dark room. He stole silently across the room and sat in a large leather chair next to the empty fireplace. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as he drifted into a light sleep.
Hours later the Imperial soldier woke up. He stood and stretched and then walked to the doors to the balcony. He quietly opened the doors and stared up at the sky to determine that he had slept for about four hours. Nodding to himself, the soldier slid on a pair of gloves. He walked onto the balcony and gazed across the facade of the Imperial Palace to see if anyone else was using a balcony. Seeing no other people, the soldier moved to the railing and gazed downward. The gardens were empty and the great field beyond was empty of soldiers. He had not expected to see any soldiers as no lords were in residence at the moment.
With an inward smile, the soldier turned to face the building. He eased himself to the far right-hand side of the balcony as his gloved hand reached over the railing and into the dark corner formed by the balcony meeting the facade of the palace. His hand wrapped around the rope hanging there and he held onto it as he lifted his legs over the railing. He grabbed the rope with both hands and started pulling himself upward. Within a few moments, the Imperial soldier was standing on the Emperor’s balcony.
He opened his pack and extracted a sheathed knife. He carefully removed the knife from the sheath, being careful not to rub the blade against the leather. His eyes squinted as he tried to examine the blade in the darkness. He finally shrugged, content that the poison would not have worn off in the sheath. The soldier tried the doors to the Emperor’s bedroom and found them locked. He removed one glove and ran his fingers along the seam of the twin doors. He grinned as he felt the thin wire. With a slow deliberate upward motion, the soldier pulled on the wire until he heard the click of the door unlocking.
The Imperial soldier released the wire and put his glove back on. He eased the doors open and stepped into the Emperor’s bedroom. With a malicious grin, the assassin stepped next to the bed and plunged the poisoned knife into the Emperor’s throat. Emperor Bagora’s eyes flashed open to stare at his assassin. His mouth opened to scream, but he could not. As his hand frantically sought the hanging cord that would summon help, the Emperor died.
Chapter 25
Provocation
Lord Marak sat astride his horse atop a large hill on the Balomar estate. The men of Botal’s squad formed a protective ring around the Torak lord as Botal, Halman, and Gunta joined Lord Marak in watching the battle.
“Their charge is faltering,” remarked Botal. “After all of the probing that they have done, I would not expect that.”
“It is neither the terrain nor the stiff resistance that is causing their faltering,” responded Lord Marak. “It is confusion. We had wondered if the Glamaraldi spies had discovered the various clans that have assembled here. It is now obvious that they had not.”
“You mean that they are confused by the uniforms?” questioned Halman.
“Exactly,” nodded Lord Marak. “They are just now discovering that they are up against more than just the Balomar clan.”
“The northern group is pulling back,” pointed Gunta.
Lord Marak turned slightly to look in the direction that Gunta was pointing. He saw the Jiadin warriors, who were dressed as Glamaraldi soldiers, retreating. He slowly scanned the battlefield from the area of the retreat towards the south. About one third of the attackers had turned and fled from the battle, but the other two thirds were still attacking.
“You have to admire the way the Jiadin use their bows while on horseback,” Lord Marak commented. “They are much better at it than we are.”
“Much of Khadoran fighting is on foot in forests and estates,” shrugged Botal. “Fakarans fight over the open range. Theirs is not so much a fight for territory as it is one of elimination.”
“True,” nodded Lord Marak. “I wonder what type of combat the war against the great evil will require? I wish we could learn more about what is to come.”
“Perhaps we should start training units to fight like the Fakarans do,” suggested Halman.
“Or have Fakarans fighting by our side,” mused Lord Marak.
“Tagoro’s group is turning the tide,” Botal said excitedly. “Their center is collapsing. They are retreating.”
“This was just a probe,” sighed Lord Marak.
“Just a probe?” echoed Botal. “Five thousand Jiadin charging you is not just a probe.”
“It is to the Jiadin,” corrected Lord Marak. “The tribes of Fakara did not engage much in all out warfare. If they can crush their opponent in one easy sweep, they will do so. If they cannot, they will probe until they find a weakness. Obviously, the other estates that have fallen so far did not present any challenge to the Jiadin. They had no need to probe. This time it is different.”
“Their southern flank is breaking off,” noted Halman. “If this is a probe, when will the next one be?”
“We have no way of knowing,” shrugged Lord Marak. “That is the bad part about defending. We must always be ready for the attack. It could come at any time.”
“I would prefer attacking,” frowned Gunta. “Let them remain on guard for a while.”
“I would love to take the fight to them,” smiled Lord Marak, “but not this time. In this battle we get to be the defenders. At least we now have the provocation that we have waited for. Botal, I want an air mage positioned on this hill at all times, night and day. Let’s return to the mansion and prepare for a trip to Khadoratung. Lord Oktar finally has a provocation to present to the Lords’ Council.”
“I have already taken the liberty,” grinned Botal as he pointed to an air mage riding up the hill. “I knew you would want this hill manned once you saw the view from it. I left a note for an air mage to join us.”
“Ophia,” nodded Lord Marak as he turned to see the young woman riding up the hill. “She will do fine.”
“Lord Marak,” greeted Ophia. “I have been looking all over for you since dawn. Your note was not discovered until just recently.”
“Why are you searching for me?” Lord Marak asked with concern in his voice.
“We have had messages from everywhere this morning,” explained the mage. “Latril sent one from the Neju estate. She says the Emperor has been assassinated. Kaylee from the Nordon estate says the same, but adds that you must travel swiftly to Khadoratung. The Lords’ Council is to meet to choose a new Emperor. Lord Marshal Yenga asked for a report of the conditions here. He wants to talk to as soon as practical.”