Before Lord Marshal Grefon could reply, Lord Marak strode across the entry foyer and entered the large double doors of the Meeting Chamber. Grefon stood and stared after him and noticed the other people streaming into the Meeting Chamber. Lord Marak’s Council of Advisors appeared to be quite large, but what struck Grefon between the eyes was the caliber of the people going in. With the exception of Seneschal Pito, Lectain Zorkil, and Marak’s female Bursar, everyone was a common laborer.
Grefon’s fury actually shook his body when he realized that Lord Marak was going to share information with common laborers, which he refused to divulge to the Lord Marshal of the Situ Clan. Lord Marshal Grefon slammed the door to his temporary quarters and strode out into the courtyard. Nobody paid any attention to the Lord Marshal of the Situ and that further inflamed Grefon’s irritation. Normally, when he visited an estate the soldiers all held him in awe and did everything they could think of to grab his attention. Fardale was different. He was sure that everyone knew who he was and yet no one seemed to care. They all went about their chores without notice of his presence.
Lord Marshal Grefon walked around the outside of the mansion aimlessly. At the rear of the mansion was a small courtyard and a flower garden. Grefon headed towards the flower garden and stopped when he saw a Fardale soldier and a young woman in a tight embrace on one of the benches. Recognition of the soldier registered with the Lord Marshal and Grefon strode over to the couple.
“Squad Leader Rybak,” snapped the Lord Marshal.
Rybak looked up and cringed. Silently, he pushed the young woman away from him and she readily took the hint and left the garden.
“It is Cortain Rybak now,” corrected the plumed officer. “I did not expect to see you here, Lord Marshal Grefon. How did you get past the bandits?”
“You may be playing at being a Cortain here in Fardale,” growled Lord Marshal Grefon, “but you are still a member of my Army and I decide who wears the plumes in my Army. Why have I not received any of your reports on Lord Marak?”
“The bandits,” cringed Rybak. “How did you manage to get past them? You are the first person from Lituk Valley to make it this far.”
“Surely, you could have found some method of getting a message through to me,” insisted Lord Marshal Grefon. “I see a Fardale in shambles and a young Lord out of his depth. What do you have to report?”
“This is not a very safe place to talk,” offered Rybak. “Where has Lord Marak put you up?”
“I can detect a stall when I see one, Squad Leader Rybak,” scowled Lord Marshal Grefon. “If I don’t get your report immediately, you will not even retain the rank of Squad Leader when I get you back to Lituk Valley.”
“Cortain Rybak,” called a third voice, “your presence is required in the Lectain’s quarters immediately. Hurry along.”
Lord Marshal Grefon turned to see Cortain Tagoro standing on the path behind him. “What is the meaning of this interruption, Squad Leader Tagoro?” spat the Lord Marshal.
“Has the Lord Marshal of the Situ Clan lost his eyesight?” smiled Cortain Tagoro. “This is a yellow plume upon my helmet, Lord Marshal.”
“Not for long, you impertinent dog,” scowled Lord Marshal Grefon. “You shall be lucky to remain a free man when we return to Lituk Valley.”
“Be that as it may,” stated Cortain Tagoro, “but in Fardale I am a Cortain and due the respect associated with the rank, even from superior officers.”
Lord Marshal Grefon stepped forward and extended his hand to grasp the plume from Tagoro’s helmet. Cortain Tagoro deftly leaped back and pulled the double-edged sword from its sheath on his back and held it the Lord Marshal’s chest.
“One more step, Lord Marshal Grefon,” snapped Cortain Tagoro, “and I shall have to place you under arrest. You are here as a guest of Lord Marak and, as such, are entitled to certain liberties, but those liberties do not include interfering with military personnel in the performance of their duties.”
“I am the Lord Marshal of the Situ Clan,” shouted Lord Marshal Grefon. “I will not stand for such insolence on the part of any of my officers. You will place yourself on report and I shall deal with you when we get back to Lituk Valley.”
“Lord Marak has not ordered me to go to Lituk Valley,” persisted Cortain Tagoro, “nor do I expect him to do so.”
“You do not report to Lord Marak,” sizzled Lord Marshal Grefon. “You report to me.”
“You are incorrect, Sir,” corrected Cortain Tagoro. “No one on this estate reports to you. We are all sworn to Lord Marak and Lord Marak alone. What he orders is what we will do. If you have a desire to be escorted to Lituk Valley, I would suggest taking that matter up with Lord Marak.”
Cortain Tagoro promptly sheathed his sword and strode out of the flower garden leaving a dazed and confused Lord Marshal in his wake. Grefon turned to take his anger out on Rybak and found, instead, the Marshal from Woodville.
“Such impertinence would not be accepted in the Ragatha Clan,” smiled Marshal Tingo.
“It will not be accepted in the Situ Clan, either,” snapped Lord Marshal Grefon. “If I have to bring the entire Situ Army back here to clean this place up, I swear I will. Who does Marak think he is? I put him in this position. Without me, he is nothing. I should let the Sorgans eat him alive and be glad that they have rid Khadora of another fanatic.”
Lord Marshal Grefon turned and stormed out of the flower garden leaving a bemused Ragatha Marshal behind. Grefon stormed back into the mansion and saw people filing out of the Meeting Chamber. He went to the door and waited while the people filed out. Seeing Lord Marak at the other end of the room, he impatiently pushed his way through the crowd exiting the room. He ignored the crude remarks thrown at him as he walked briskly towards Lord Marak.
“Now that your meeting with the fieldhands is over,” growled Lord Marshal Grefon, “perhaps you will give me some answers as to what you are doing here in Fardale?”
“I would like to dispatch our Ragatha neighbor first,” stated Marak with a barely concealed contempt. “It would enable him to leave the estate before dark and then we can discuss whatever you wish.”
“Now!” demanded Lord Marshal Grefon. “You have put me off too long. I want answers as to what you are doing to my estate and I want them now.”
Lord Marak’s eyes narrowed as he glared at the Situ Lord Marshal. “Your estate?” he quizzed. “Since when did Fardale become your estate?”
“You know what I mean,” backpedaled the Lord Marshal. “What are you doing with this Situ estate?”
“You come very close to ending your freedom,” Lord Marak declared softly. “Sit. Marshal Tingo will have to wait. What is it you want to know?”
“I want to know everything,” Grefon said while trying to calm himself. Marak was no fool and Grefon knew better then to let his temper get hold of him.
“Everything is a very broad term,” sighed Lord Marak. “I will not discuss my agreement with the Sorgan and Litari, but I can bring you up to date on our other matters.”
“Why won’t you discuss the agreement?” Grefon calmly asked. “Your refusal causes me to believe that the solution was detrimental to the Situ Clan.”
“I have already assured you that is not the case,” declared Lord Marak. “Fardale is in better shape now than it has ever been. Lord Ridak wanted someone in the position here to salvage the grain contracts. I have done that with Kasa’s help. There will be no mar on the Situ Clan because of Fardale. I have delivered what I promised to deliver. Does anything else really matter?”
“Yes,” Lord Marshal Grefon answered, trying desperately to maintain a calm composure. “Your men refuse to accept me as Lord Marshal of the Situ Clan. I was told that they have sworn to you. Is that true?”
“Yes, it is,” affirmed Lord Marak. “Every single person in Fardale has personally sworn Vows of Service to me.”