“Send one of the Seneschals,” suggested Marak. “They have experience in leading people and are familiar with the running of an estate.”
“Perhaps Bursar Tachora can take over,” offered Lord Marshal Grefon.
“Bursar Tachora is an incompetent fool,” worried Lord Ridak. “He was good in his day, but that was twenty years ago. The old fool can barely find his bed and the old codger chose a woman as his assistant. Imagine, a woman to handle finances! That shows what a waste the man is.”
“Squad Leader Zorkil,” ordered the Lord Marshal, “you have reported and there is no reason for you to remain during the discussion. You will find a bed in the first barracks on your right as you leave the mansion. Get some sleep because you will be returning with Cortain Marak in the morning.”
Zorkil saluted and shuffled out of the Meeting Chamber. “There is no need for him to hear our discussions on the weakness of Fardale leaders,” stated Grefon. “Perhaps Marak has the right thought. Choose the best Seneschal and make him a Lord. He will be so thrilled about the promotion that he will strive to his best.”
“A Seneschal’s best is not good enough,” retorted Lord Ridak. “Just making sure that Fardale has a Lord is not adequate. The contracts for grain must be filled or the Situ will face ruin. Lord Lashendo had enough problems fulfilling the contracts before this affair with the Chula. Now the workers will be looking over their shoulders while they plant the grain. Nothing will be accomplished by putting a stooge in control of Fardale. I need a solution which will accomplish a miracle.”
“Well,” sighed Grefon, “whatever the solution is, Cortain Marak must lead his men out there in the morning. I will not have Fardale under the control of a Squad Leader because that is no control at all. Regardless of the Vows of Service, you will have men leaving their posts if there is not a speedy response from Lituk Valley.”
“Of course,” agreed Lord Ridak. “Send them in the morning. When I find my candidate for Lord of Fardale we will send another Corte to escort the Lord and reinforce them.”
“They are not lacking for men,” reminded Grefon, “only leaders. Sending another Corte is a waste of men and I do not wish to deplete our own strength that much. Cortain Marak should leave in the morning, but he should also be escorting the new Lord of Fardale.”
“I cannot just conjure a Lord out of thin air!” Lord Ridak yelled. “I must have time to find the right candidate, if there is such a person. I will give the new Lord absolute powers concerning Fardale, but I must find someone who can salvage those contracts. Wernik and Caruko are the only men I can think of, but they already know too much about the Chula to be immune to the fear and Wernik is probably too old, anyway.”
“Meeting the contracts will require that the Chula be conquered,” reminded the Lord Marshal. “Lord Lashendo was quite clear that they needed the additional land if they had any chance of fulfilling the contracts.”
“I thought your new Cortain, here, was going to take care of the Chula,” barked Lord Ridak. “We just need someone who can motivate the workers and Army to perform better than they ever have.”
“Cortain Marak was going to be the bait sent into Sitari Valley,” clarified Grefon. “His Corte is not going to invade the Chula and defeat them alone and the Fardale contingent will be reticent to return to Sitari Valley and leave the estate unprotected.”
Marak watched the verbal sparring between his two superiors and tried to detach himself from it. He understood the problems Lord Ridak faced, but he could not believe that the Situ did not have at least a score of eligible candidates for the position. If all that was required was motivating the workers . . .
“I have a suggestion,” interrupted Cortain Marak.
Lord Ridak and Lord Marshal Grefon halted their conversation and turned to the young Cortain.
“Send my Corte out to Fardale in the morning,” Marak began. “I will go as your acting Lord and motivate the Army and workers to do whatever is necessary to bring in the crop on time.”
“You insolent little clova,” berated Lord Ridak. “You are barely untied from your mother and you think you can be a Lord? Do you think you will just walk in and wave your sword and all of the work will get done? I don’t think you are even ready to wear your new yellow plume, never mind solving the world’s problems.”
“Leave us,” ordered the Lord Marshal. “Go wait for me in my study.”
Marak saluted and marched out of the Meeting Chamber. Lord Ridak turned his fury on Grefon. “You pushed me to promote that young insolent child,” scolded Lord Ridak. “I think the best use of him is in the fields with his lying mother.”
“Perhaps,” smiled Grefon, “the young insolent Cortain is exactly what we need.”
Lord Ridak looked at his Lord Marshal with puzzlement in his eyes. “I have seen that look of yours before, Grefon. I have the feeling you are about to solve our problems by sacrificing a young clova to the slaughter pens.”
“A possibility,” admitted the smiling Lord Marshal. “Marak does have a certain ability to motivate people and we are sending him to Fardale anyway. Let him go as the new Lord of Fardale. His Corte will bring stability to the Army and the people will feel that we are deeply concerned. He will attempt to bring in the crops and fail miserably, but . . . we will appeal to the contract holders and blame the problem on his youth. If they are not satisfied, we will offer to have the Lord of Fardale executed for his miserable performance. This will show the contract holders the sincerity of the Situ and our desire to see them properly served.”
“That just might work,” smiled Lord Ridak, “ especially if everyone thinks that he is like a son to me. I won’t have to actually state that, but everyone will get the idea.”
“At the very least,” added Grefon, “his short term as Lord will bring stability to Fardale and provide you with the time you need to find the right replacement.”
“This demonstrates one of the reasons I like you,” chuckled Lord Ridak. “You do have a knack for turning problems into opportunities. Have the papers drawn up immediately. We will have a ceremony at dawn and send our new Lord off to Fardale.”
“I will draw the papers up myself,” grinned Grefon. “Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll personally bring the papers to your suite when they are ready.”
Lord Ridak smiled and nodded as he pranced off to bed, warm with the feeling of a successful answer to a puzzling riddle. Lord Marshal Grefon strode to his study and found Marak reading a book. Marak jumped to attention as Grefon entered.
“I am sorry if I overstepped my position, Lord Marshal,” Marak said quickly.
“Nonsense, Cortain,” smiled Grefon. “Your suggestion was a good one. Lord Ridak sometimes has trouble seeing the potential of our young officers. I discussed your idea with the Lord after you left and he agrees with me. In the morning you shall be the new Lord of Fardale. I am to draw up the papers right now.”
“Are you serious?” gasped Marak. “Lord Ridak is really going to make me the acting Lord?”
“Not acting,” laughed Grefon. “You will be the new young Lord of Fardale with all of the rights and privileges due a Lord. As soon as I finish this document I will present it to Lord Ridak and you will be the Lord. The ceremony will be rushed, of course, because you must get to Fardale as soon as possible.”
Marak’s head spun with giddiness. He had felt such a fool the moment those words had left his lips and Lord Ridak’s tirade shortly after didn’t help. He thought he was going to be reprimanded and stripped of his yellow plume, but now he was going to be a Lord with unlimited powers.
“Of course,” smiled Marak, “don’t forget to put in the clause about absolute powers.”
Lord Marshal Grefon stopped writing and stared at the young Cortain. “What are you talking about?” he demanded.
“Lord Ridak declared that the new Lord of Fardale would have absolute powers,” stated Marak. “I think they will be necessary to ensure that the crops come in.”