“Squad Leader Rybak,” began Grefon, “how did the men in your squad learn of Marak’s plight?”
Rybak noticed the lack of the words ‘Squad Leader’ in the Lord Marshal’s question and smiled. Evidently, Grefon was still concerned about the wrist bands and was making it part of the same disciplinary action. It also sounded like Koors had probably tried to blame him for spreading the word. While Koors had been a golden ladder to the rank of Squad Leader, Rybak was not about to slide down that ladder for his Cortain. “Cortain Koors and I spoke of it in the barracks,” Rybak answered.
“Do you think the men overheard your conversation?” quizzed Grefon.
“Without a doubt, Lord Marshal,” answered Rybak. “They were all around us. Cortain Koors wanted everybody to know that he had finally succeeded in getting Marak. I can only assume that my men told the other squads in the Corte. I certainly did not.”
Grefon nodded and was about to dismiss Rybak when another question popped up. “On the morning of the first meeting day, did you hear me give orders to Cortain Koors?” he asked.
“Yes, Lord Marshal,” admitted Rybak. “I was present at the time.”
“Was it clear that my orders were for Marak to have slave detail?” queried the Lord Marshal.
“Yes, Lord Marshal,” answered Rybak. “Cortain Koors, complained that you were ruining his plan before he changed the orders.”
“Thank you, Squad Leader,” sighed Grefon. “You will not speak of this meeting unless I direct you to. You are dismissed. Send the others in as you leave.”
Rybak snapped a salute and quickly fled to the sitting room where he informed Marak and Koors to return to the study as he left. Marak and Koors entered the study and closed the door. The Lord Marshal opened a drawer in his desk and withdrew a sheet of paper and handed it to Cortain Koors.
“As you can see, Cortain,” declared Grefon, “I have a bit of a problem here. You have brought before me a man accused of violating his Vows of Service by talking with slaves. A man in the Army with a rank of Cortain is allowed that privilege. If you read the pronouncement in your hands, you will notice that its purpose is to elevate Squad Leader Marak to the rank of Cortain. It should be duly noted that both Lord Ridak and I signed this document the day before the first meeting day. While you may argue that Squad Leader Marak violated his Vows of Service, the accused may argue that Cortain Marak did not.”
Marak’s eyes grew wide as he followed the conversation. No one had ever made Cortain in six years that he knew of. The elation quickly subsided to regret. If only he had held out for a few more days, he would have been able to see his mother without this disciplinary action. He had already made his grand speech belittling the Lord Marshal’s Army and Grefon would be within his rights to tear up the pronouncement.
“But this is impossible,” squealed Koors. “It is not official, no pronouncement was made. He didn’t even know about his promotion when he leaped over the fence.”
“You are quite right about his knowing,” nodded the Lord Marshal. “Nevertheless, he was officially a Cortain at the time. The announcement was being held back until there was an opening for a Cortain. Lord Ridak is against expanding the Army to include another Corte, so the announcement of his promotion was put off until someone died or retired.”
“Well, that is certainly not going to happen any time soon,” smiled Koors. “If you do not plan to take any action on this matter, I am within my rights to petition Lord Ridak to rule on it. Whether he was a Cortain or a Squad Leader, he violated his Vows of Service because he had neither knowledge of his promotion nor orders which allowed him such liberties.”
Lord Marshal Grefon held up his hands in surrender. “If you are adamant about appealing to Lord Ridak, there is nothing I can do to stop you. In all fairness to the accused, though, he should be made aware that I issued orders to you placing him in the fields with the slaves on the day of the first meeting. Technically, his orders were to be with the slaves for the duration of the meeting days.”
“You did not specify which squad I was to use,” blurted Koors. “I must have misunderstood . . .” Koors looked at the smile on the Lord Marshal’s face and knew he was beaten. The way Rybak averted his eyes when he had left the Lord Marshal’s study flashed into Koors mind, and the Cortain knew he was in more trouble than Marak. Marak, at least, had some excuse, Koors did not. The Lord Marshal was never a stickler on how his orders were carried out as long as they were accomplished, but on this occasion he had specifically ordered Marak into the fields. Rybak had squealed and there was little Koors could do about it.
“Cortain Koors,” addressed Grefon, “you have given long years of service to this Clan . . . over twenty years . . . if I am not mistaken. Lord Ridak would probably not be as impressed with that as I am. I think an officer with your fine service to the Situ Clan should have an elegant retirement party, not a trial. Of course, nobody has made any accusations against you . . . yet.”
The Lord Marshal handed Koors writing materials and sighed. Koors stared at the paper in Grefon’s outstretched hand and pressed his lips tightly together. Koors took the paper and scribbled a letter of resignation as his eyes moistened.
Lord Marshal Grefon took the paper and read it. He signed the paper making the retirement official. “If I may make a suggestion to both of you,” Grefon remarked. “If you were to recommend your own replacement right now, Cortain Koors, word could be spread that you had done so. The real purpose of this meeting need not be known, only the outcome. Both of you will look better for it.”
With tears in his eyes, Koors went through the motions of recommending Marak as his replacement and then asked leave from the Lord Marshal. After Koors left, Grefon turned on Marak.
“You, soldier, have some rather strange ideas on how an army should be run,” declared Grefon. “I know you spoke from the heart and were ready to take your punishment, so I believe what you said is what you truly feel. It is by sheer luck only that you have escaped the ax man. Personally, I am glad. Officially, you are on notice for aberrant behavior. Next time bring your grievance to me before taking action of your own.”
Grefon walked over to the wall map and motioned for Marak to join him. “This is Fardale,” instructed the Lord Marshal. “You know from the meeting days of the problems they have. Your Corte is being assigned to Fardale on temporary terms. Your men are more experienced than Marshal Garouk’s and, frankly, I think he is underestimating the Chula. He has orders to wait for your arrival before baiting the cat people. I want you and your men to scout out this Sitari Valley and be the bait he is seeking.”
“Do we have any information on these cat people?” Marak asked.
“Nothing over what you have already heard,” clarified Grefon. “I am giving you two weeks to get your Corte in shape. You are going to need a new Squad Leader to replace yourself. Give me suggestions when you have them.”
“The man for the job is Botal, Lord Marshal,” Marak said unhesitatingly.
“Very well,” Grefon agreed. “Botal is a good choice. You may inform him, but I will make the formal announcement when your promotion and Koors’ retirement is announced. Send him to see me this morning. That’s all I have for you, Cortain. Congratulations.”
“Thank you, Lord Marshal,” smiled Marak for the first time since the meeting began. “I will endeavor to raise the proficiency of my Corte to the highest levels.”
Grefon nodded and Marak turned to leave when the Lord Marshal suddenly spoke. “Cortain, your first orders are to spend the morning with your mother. You may tell your Squad Leaders of your promotion. I suspect that Rybak will not be surprised and his squad should have taken over for Tagoro’s by now.”
“Thank you, Lord Marshal!,” exclaimed Cortain Marak. “Why do you say Rybak will not be surprised? I have always taken him for Koors’ man.”