“All four Clans owe allegiance to Lord Marak?” questioned the Cortain. “How is that possible?”
“With Lord Marak, everything is possible,” laughed Lectain Zorkil. “Make your choice, Cortain. I have been instructed to accept your surrender if you offer it, but I am only going to listen up ‘til the time the first weapon is drawn. The choice is your to make . . . now.”
The Cortain turned and surveyed the four Cortes surrounding him. Knowing that not one of his men would survive, the Cortain ordered his men to abandon their weapons.
Chapter 25
Confrontation
Tmundo, Leader of the Kywara, gestured and Lord Marak sat by the fire. “Greetings, Leader of the Kywara,” opened Lord Marak. “Greetings, Head Shaman of the Kywara.”
“Welcome to our home, Lord Marak,” offered Tmundo.
“Greetings, Lord of the Torak,” smiled Rykoma. “What brings the Torak to our home?”
“Just the desire to visit and seek counsel,” answered Lord Marak. “How are the love birds getting along?”
“If they had not been already married and the parents of a mighty warlord,” chuckled Rykoma, “I would predict a union any day now.”
“Everything is as it should be,” smiled Tmundo. “They are inseparable. Like a pair of young cubs, they shudder at the thought of being apart for longer than a song. What counsel does the Lord of the Torak seek?”
Lord Marak picked up a stick and drew diagrams in the dirt. The diagrams were meaningless, but Marak felt better doing something with his hands. “I question the right way of the Chula,” started Lord Marak. “I have received a message from the Lords Council. An emissary of the Lords Council will arrive in Lituk Valley in two days. A Squad of Imperial troops have been sent to escort me to Lituk Valley for a mediation on the ownership of Fardale.”
“You have been expecting this,” noted Tmundo. “Are you not ready to deal with Lord Ridak?”
“I am prepared,” nodded Lord Marak. “I feel that I already know the outcome of the mediation. That is not the problem. The problem lies in the aftermath of negotiations.”
“You suspect that Lord Ridak or yourself will not be happy with the outcome of the mediation,” suggested Tmundo, “and a conflict of might will follow the decision of the Lords Council? Is that what troubles you?”
“No,” responded Lord Marak. “The conflict is inevitable. What concerns me is Ukaro. He feels this need to bring vengeance on Lord Ridak. Is this necessary according to your law? What happens if he does not kill Lord Ridak?”
“Ah,” sighed Rykoma, “I see your problem clearly. You also have a grievance against Lord Ridak. How is it possible for two men to kill the same man?”
“That is not Lord Marak’s problem,” interrupted Tmundo. “I am not sure how to answer your question, Lord Marak. There are no laws among the Chula regarding a man’s need for revenge. There are only customs and feelings. You seek to protect your father from harm, but he is the Head Shaman of the Zatong. He is a man who can take care of himself. You are a son who has no need of worry.”
“I’m not sure that is an acceptable answer,” countered Lord Marak. “I have seen my mother without Ukaro for many years. I do not wish to ever see her that way again. Will I offend Ukaro or the Chula if I do not inform him of the upcoming conflict?”
Tmundo picked up a stick and started poking the coals of the fire. Rykoma glanced at Tmundo and then moved his eyes to meet Lord Marak’s. “Ukaro is a proud man,” the Head Shaman of the Kywara announced. “He feels that Lord Ridak’s death will fall far short of restitution, but he will seek it as the only recourse he has. If you deprive him of that opportunity, purposely, it will hurt him deeply. He will see himself as a man whose son does not respect him and that will hurt him greater than the continued good health of Lord Ridak.”
“You are not aware of the power of a Chula Shaman,” interjected Tmundo. “Ukaro could cause more damage to the Situ Clan than five of your Cortes. You have no need to shield him from his enemies.”
“He is still a man,” retorted Lord Marak. “One arrow can end his life as easily as mine. Vengeance clouds a man’s mind and makes him careless.”
“You have just supplied your own answer,” stated Tmundo. “What do you think the loss of your life will mean to Ukaro? How will he cope with your death if it is at the hands of a man he should have already killed, but did not because he was cavorting with his long lost lover?”
“The fact that you failed to tell him about Lord Ridak to shield him from harm,” added Rykoma, “will add a twist to the knife of pain already in him. You are contemplating a path of remorse, young Marak. Talk with Ukaro and explain your feelings. He is a proud man, but he is also proud of you. He will not take offense at your words.”
"They have traveled to the Sacred Lake of our ancestors," offered Tmundo. "I will order an escort to show you the way. It is high in the mountains above the trees and beyond the Golden Gates.
Lord Marak nodded and rose from his seat by the fire. His mind wandered from what he would say to Ukaro, to the upcoming confrontation with Lord Ridak as he paced around the campfire. In moments, his escorts arrived and Marak mounted a jaguar for the journey further into the mountains. The group did not speak as they traveled and Marak paid little attention to his surroundings until they entered a large clearing and he saw the glint of sunlight reflecting off something in the distance. The mountains rose starkly here and as they approached the glinting object, Marak's eyes widened in wonder. The grass of the clearing gave way to an ancient road paved with white rocks and sand. Straddling the road where it entered a narrow pass between two mountains was the source of glinting.
Marak stared in awe at what must be the Golden Gate. It was an enormous arch formed by a golden lion and a golden jaguar. They rose on their hind legs several man-heights tall with their forepaws meeting to form the arch. As they passed underneath, Marak wondered about the ancient civilization the Chula must have had before the Khadorans invaded. The craftsmanship of the arch and the road were not the only things amazing about this feat. The secrecy of its existence was another. The amount of gold in the arch would bring the entire armies of Khadora storming into these mountains if anyone even suspected it existed.
Shortly after passing under the Golden Gate, the party halted on a grassy rise overlooking a pristine lake. Two figures could be seen on the distant shoreline and Marak left the jaguar and his escorts and strode towards the lake.
He headed towards the Sacred Lake, but he moved slowly, lost in thought. He arrived at the lake all too soon and still didn’t have his thoughts collected when he saw his mother and father lying on the grass at the lake’s edge. He stood there silently for a moment soaking in a sight he had long dreamed of seeing. Glenda looked up and called to him and Marak strode over to greet his parents.
“You two are cavorting like a pair of youngsters,” chuckled Lord Marak. “I feel like I am intruding.”
“You will never be an intrusion in our lives, Marak,” answered Glenda.
“Come and sit down, my Son the Torak,” greeted Ukaro as he sat up. “We do not see enough of you these days.”
“I have many things to keep me busy, Father,” smiled Lord Marak. “You are welcome in Fardale. I know you do not appreciate living with the flatlanders, but they will accept you.”
“I do not need their acceptance when I have yours,” stated Ukaro. “Besides, I do not think it is wise for the flatlanders to know your father is a Chula. There may be times in the future when their lack of that knowledge will be helpful to you.”
“As you wish,” Lord Marak accepted as he sat down beside his parents. “I must talk with you about Lord Ridak.”
Glenda’s jaw tightened and her neck muscles tensed. The happy lines around Ukaro’s eyes disappeared and his eyebrows lowered. “He is a most unwelcome topic,” sighed Ukaro. “What is it you wish to discuss about him?”