“I don’t think that is necessary,” declared the Lord Marshal. “The normal powers of a Lord should be sufficient.”
“To neglect the absolute powers clause would be to damage Lord Ridak's word,” reminded Marak. “He has made the statement and it is for him to refute it.”
The Lord Marshal clenched his fist and broke his writing instrument. He knew he had to either put the clause in or scrap his plan for Marak to be Lord. He was amazed that Marak would insist on the wording of his proclamation. The young man should be thrilled to even be considered for such a position and, yet, he was gambling on getting everything he wanted.
“If you push too far,” snapped Grefon, “you may end up with nothing.”
“Would it be too far to ask that my mother accompany me to Fardale?” asked Marak.
“Yes!” shouted Grefon. “It would. I will insert your clause of absolute rule because it really means little and the Lord will be sleepy when he signs it, but I will add nothing else. All absolute rule gives you is the opportunity to make Fardale issue Vows of Service to you as their Lord, instead of to Lord Ridak. You must still maintain your Vows of Service to Lord Ridak, so its only purpose is to infuriate Lord Ridak, but I will add it. Now leave me. Go get some sleep and I will send someone to awaken you for the ceremony.”
Lord Marshal Grefon watched in anger as Marak left his study. His plan would work equally well with any young officer, but Lord Ridak was already sold on the idea of sending Marak and he did not want to chance a change of the Lord’s mind. He quickly finished the pronouncement and walked to the Lord’s suite. Lord Ridak was already asleep as he thought he would be, but he did not mind being awakened to sign the document. Lord Ridak did not even glance at the pronouncement and Grefon was happy he did not have to argue about the added clause.
Grefon smiled as he walked back to his suite. All things considered, everything had worked out rather well. Grefon desired to retire to Fardale and retirement as a Lord would be grand. He would have jumped at the chance brought on by Lord Lashendo’s death, except for his knowledge that the contracts for this year could not be filled. He had planned to propose himself as a replacement for the Lord of Fardale, but only after Lashendo failed on the contracts. Lord Lashendo’s death nearly destroyed those dreams. If Lord Ridak had an able replacement ready, Grefon’s hopes would have been dashed. Pleased with the events of the evening, Lord Marshal Grefon reclined on the couch in his study to catch a few winks before the quickly approaching dawn.
Grefon felt like he had just closed his eyes when a servant woke him. He rubbed his eyes and looked out of the window to the gray sky of morning. He also saw Marak talking with his mother. No doubt he wanted his mother to witness the ceremony this morning. He quickly scribbled a note to the Seneschal, pleased that this was the last time he would have to interfere in her work schedule. Unlike that old fool, Koors, Grefon had learned long ago that small things, which cost you nothing, often gained the undying gratitude of the masses. Marak would have his mother watching him be raised to the status of Lord of Fardale. The ceremony would be short and she would be back in the fields before Marak was on his horse.
Grefon grabbed the pronouncement and the note to the Seneschal and left his study. He hailed a servant and sent his note on its way. Another servant ran to inform the guards to awaken the camp for the ceremony. The Lord Marshal moved to the small dining room in which he shared breakfast with Lord Ridak every morning. Lord Ridak was in a happy mood although he had little sleep. Grefon was even happier. By fall, Lord Marshal Grefon would be Lord Grefon of Fardale and heir to the Situ Clan.
Breakfast was a hurried affair of goose eggs and fried bread. Lord Ridak always had two glasses of lituk juice with breakfast, his and Grefon’s. Grefon absolutely hated the bitter juice and would be happy if he never saw another glass of it as long as he lived. Grefon rose to hurry to the porch, knowing his leaving the table would hurry Lord Ridak along.
The soldiers of the Situ Army stood in formation to hear whatever pronouncement the Lord intended to make this morning. Grefon smiled when he saw the horses for Marak’s Corte already waiting for the ceremony to be over. The Lord Marshal read the first paragraph of the pronouncement, which contained the appointment. The whole document was never read at these pronouncement ceremonies and they were always drafted with the first paragraph containing the address that was to be given.
Grefon smiled at the mass of amazed faces before him. Evidently, Marak had been a good little boy and had not even told his old friend, Tagoro. Marak walked up to Lord Ridak and the Lord embraced him like a favorite son. There were audible gasps from the ranks and the Lord Marshal could not help chuckling. Lord Ridak handed one copy of the pronouncement to the new Lord of Fardale and kissed him on both cheeks. The soldiers sang out the traditional recital appropriate for a new Lord of the Situ Clan and the ceremony was over.
The Lord Marshal made sure that he was the first to congratulate the new Lord of Fardale and then released him to the waiting throng. Marak was amazed at the enthusiastic response from his fellow soldiers, but his footsteps led to his mother. He wanted to say goodbye to her just before he left. On his way to his mother, Marak caught a glimpse of the Lord Marshal talking to Squad Leader Rybak and knew what they were discussing. Rybak was to be Grefon’s spy at Fardale and would gleefully report Marak’s failures back to the Lord Marshal.
Marak made it to his mother as Tagoro instructed the Corte soldiers to mount up. Marak hugged his mother and promised to get her out of the fields somehow. He wasn’t sure whether his mother’s tears were tears of joy or sorrow as he kissed her goodbye. Her hand reached into his shirt and felt for the necklace and a smile broke out on her lips as she touched it.
“Do well, my son, the Lord,” Glenda cried. “Treat your people well and they will do anything for you. Remember that.”
“I will remember those words on your lips until you join me in Fardale,” Marak promised. “And I will heed them forever. Goodbye, Mother.”
Marak tore himself away and joined his Corte. He gazed back at her as he rode along the path to the main gate. Once outside the main gate, Marak called for Squad Leader Zorkil to join him. Zorkil was not sure how to react to Marak. The man was Zorkil’s military superior and his new Lord.
“Lord Marak,” Squad Leader Zorkil asked, “how do I address you? Do I salute because you are my Cortain or do I bow because you are My Lord?”
“Squad Leader Zorkil,” laughed Marak, “I do not know, either. I would presume that when we are in military formation, you should treat me as your Cortain and when we are not, you will treat me as your Lord. Things are going to be difficult for all of us, Zorkil. How you address me will seem unimportant when we start to tackle the problems of Fardale. We have a long journey ahead of us and I want you to tell me as much as you can about Fardale. Do not try to color the people or events, but give me the barest truth, particularly where the news is bad. I mean to make Fardale a shining example for the whole nation of Khadora and I am going to need all of the help I can get.”
“As you wish, My Lord,” replied Zorkil. “If I may ask, are you Lord Ridak’s son? He seems to display a great deal of affection for you.”
“No,” answered Marak, “I barely know the man. I suspect our good Lord expects us to fail in Fardale. I do not know how he expects to profit from our failure, but I do know that he is going to be sorely disappointed because I do not intend to fail.”
“I do not know where to begin,” sighed Zorkil. “Fardale was not in good shape before the Chula started to cause trouble. Our yield from the fields gets less every season. That is why Lord Lashendo was trying to clear the Sitari Valley. People are unhappy about many things. The Seneschal and Bursar are both very old. Seneschal Pito doesn’t leave his room on most days, so there is no one to watch the mansion help. Bursar Tachora was known as a brilliant man, but even Lord Ridak knows that he is long past time for pasture. Most of the Army is old and cast off from other estates. I often think that Fardale is like a retirement estate for the other Lords. They send someone who is no longer efficient to Fardale and it counts as a contribution to the Situ Clan, the same as if they sent young men to serve in Lord Ridak’s Army.”