“Perhaps it is you, Lord Marak, who does not belong in Khadora,” added Lord Falawert of the Lejune clan.
Lord Marak locked eyes with Lord Damirath as he spoke, “The Jiadin failed to take control in Fakara. They will also fail in Khadora. It does not matter what uniforms you put on the Jiadin, they will always be known for what they are. If Zygor and Brakas have led you to believe otherwise, then the truth is going to wound you fatally.”
Lord Marak saw the spark of recognition in Lord Damirath’s eyes at the mention of Brakas and Zygor. He was not sure how those two fit in, but he was sure that eliminating them would end the Jiadin invasion.
“Your words mean little, Lord Marak,” snarled Lord Yungis. “I was generous with Lord Oktar when I allowed him two days to leave. I now extend the same courtesy to you and the foolish clans that follow your lead. Remove your men from the Balamor estate or die. There will not be another warning.”
“You should listen and obey, Torak,” smirked Lord Damirath. “You cannot win. Surely, you recognize that now. The Time of Cleansing is soon upon us. Run, Torak, run.”
Being called Torak set Marak’s nerves on edge. Mention of the Time of Cleansing convinced Lord Marak that he was not dealing with a Khadoran lord. Again he gazed into the depthless eyes of Lord Damirath. What was it that Mistake had said? Zygor and Brakas arrived, but Zygor had not been seen leaving. That was it. Was it possible for a mage to take another’s body? He promised himself that he would contact the Chula as soon as could to get an answer to that question. Or should he just bluff and see what happened?
“I am surprised that you would welcome the Time of Cleansing, Zygor,” smiled Lord Marak. “That is the time of your master’s true death.”
The three Khadoran lords looked on in confusion as Lord Damirath stepped back and snarled at Lord Marak.
“That will never happen, Torak,” spat Lord Damirath. “Not in a thousand years. I think you should ignore the warning of Lord Yungis. I personally look forward to seeing you die at Balomar.”
Lord Damirath spun and strode away from the confrontation. The other three hosts to the Jiadin quickly followed after a few strange looks at Lord Marak.
Lord Marak was shaken by the encounter with Zygor. If his opponents actually had the capability of taking over the body of another person, what other great powers could they possibly have? Lord Marak suddenly realized how woefully unprepared Khadora was for the invasion that was to come. Just uniting the clans of Khadora would not be enough to prepare for the evil onslaught. Lord Marak shook his head and headed for the Lords’ Council dining room for the midday meal.
When he arrived, Lord Marak’s mind was still dwelling upon the encounter with Zygor. He barely noticed the other lords assembled for the meal.
“So Lord Marak has single-handedly captured the assassin of the Imperial Palace,” taunted Lord Garic. “Was he about to betray you, Lord Marak?”
Lord Marak spun and glared at Lord Garic. “I think your master is calling you, Garic. You had better leave immediately.”
Lord Garic was taken aback by Lord Marak’s abrupt challenge. He looked around at the other lords and saw no humor in their faces. He rose unsteadily and left the room. When he was gone, Lord Marak shook his head and sighed.
“I apologize to all of you for that outburst,” he said. “The events of the day are bearing down on me. Please forgive me.”
“For scaring Garic out of the room?” chuckled Lord Kiamesh. “No apologies are necessary, Lord Marak. Sit and ease your troubles.”
Lord Marak nodded gratefully at Lord Kiamesh and then noticed that Lord Chenowith was present.
“Lord Chenowith,” smiled Lord Marak, “congratulations on your election. I also want to offer my condolences in regards to your father. Emperor Bagora was a true patriot. He will be sorely missed.”
“Thank you, Lord Marak,” Lord Chenowith replied without emotion. “I do have a question about Andretti if you would not mind answering it.”
“There is not much that I can say about it,” shrugged Lord Marak.
“We shall see,” continued Lord Chenowith. “I cannot figure out why an Imperial soldier would want to kill an Emperor. Did Andretti give you any idea of why he killed my father?”
Lord Marak stared at the table in front of him for several moments. He sighed heavily and looked up at Lord Chenowith.
“He was an assassin,” declared Lord Marak. “He did what assassins do.”
“You mean he was just following orders?” questioned Lord Chenowith.
“Yes,” Lord Marak nodded.
“And do you know who was giving him orders?” Lord Chenowith persisted.
“I do,” nodded Lord Marak, “but I prefer not to broach the subject. There is already too much disharmony among us. Your loss is great Lord Chenowith, but losing you as well would be a grievous loss for Khadora. I ask you not to pursue the matter.”
“Not to pursue the matter?” Lord Chenowith echoed as his voice rose. “Andretti killed my father, Lord Marak. If you know who ordered that assassination, I demand to know.”
“And what will you do with the information, Lord Chenowith?” questioned Lord Marak. “Will you press the authorities to arrest the man based upon my word alone? What if that man is more respected than me? What will you do then? I do not mean to be harsh, Lord Chenowith. If I saw a way that you could avenge your father’s death, I would gladly tell you what I know, but I will not burden you with information that will destroy you.”
“Mirakotto,” Lord Kiamesh swore under his breath. “I thought it had to be him, but you have just confirmed it, Lord Marak. There is no other man who could stand up to the Lords’ Council if we were united, and united we would be in this matter. Mercy, what are we to do?”
“We can do nothing,” Lord Quilo replied. “Lord Marak is right in not revealing what he knows. Any action we took would be as serious a crime against Khadora as that perpetrated by Andretti. Surely you can see that, Lord Chenowith?”
“Two wrongs do not make a right,” nodded Lord Chenowith. “Still, a fire burns in my belly as I think of the treachery that has been committed here. Tell me, Lord Marak, what would you do if you were in my position?”
Lord Marak sat for a while before answering. He tried to put himself in Lord Chenowith’s place.
“My first reaction would be as yours is,” answered Lord Marak. “I would demand swift revenge, regardless of the consequences to myself, but I never act on emotions alone. There are things going on today that are far more important than revenge for a treacherous act. Khadora is heading into a storm of a magnitude like we have never seen. Whatever I can do to help Khadora prepare to meet this evil is far more important than my life. It is more important than the lives of all of my loved ones. My revenge would tear this country apart at the very time that I need to help bring it together. I could not allow myself to harm Khadora that way for my own selfish goals.”
“You think these Jiadin invasions are that much of a threat to Khadora?” inquired Lord Chenowith.
“No,” Lord Marak shook his head. “The invasions are only the beginning. They are meant to bring chaos to Khadora so that our armies will not be able to respond to the real threat.”
“And what is this real threat?” asked Lord Chenowith.
“I do not know for sure,” frowned Lord Marak. “I know it is an evil that we are incapable of imagining. I know this sounds crazy, but given enough time I could show you what I mean. There are ancient prophecies that have predicted the battles that we will have to endure. The prophecies explain the signs of the times, and those signs are now showing up.”
“What kind of signs?” asked Lord Kiamesh.
“Grulak was one of the signs,” answered Lord Marak. “Since the founding of Khadora and Omunga, the people have been forbidden to marry the indigenous peoples of the land. These prohibitions were put in place to protect us from a failed magic. The prophecies spoke of a Time of Calling. It means that someone would intermarry with the indigenous peoples and ancient memories would be restored. Those memories would call the evil to this land. Grulak was a half-breed. His mother was Qubari.”