Lejune each have been allotted five thousand Jiadin warriors. These men have already moved into Khadora and are wearing the uniforms of their host clans.”
“Fifteen thousand men?” the marshal said with a sharp intake of breath. “This will cause havoc among the clans. Show me the location of the camps again.”
As the marshal stepped forward, Zygor’s hand shot out and clamped onto Ulmreto’s shoulder. The marshal halted awkwardly, his face a grimace of pain as Brakas continued pointing to the map for the lord’s benefit. The lord was engrossed in following the foreigner’s finger across the map. He did not notice the marshal was not talking until he heard the thump of a body hitting the floor. Lord Damirath turned quickly and stared at Marshal Ulmreto’s body.
“I think it is his heart,” Brakas said quickly as he knelt alongside the marshal’s body. “He is dead.”
Lord Damirath’s mouth opened to call for help, but Zygor moved swiftly. Both of Zygor’s hands gripped Lord Damirath’s neck. Brakas rose swiftly and shoved a piece of cloth into the lord’s mouth. Damirath’s eyes opened wide in horror.
“Move the marshal’s body closer to the door,” Zygor instructed Brakas as the mage’s eyes closed in concentration.
Brakas dragged the marshal’s body across the floor. He turned and saw a flash of black smoke as Zygor disappeared. As he watched with his mouth wide open, Lord Damirath removed the cloth from his mouth and grinned.
“Fairly simple, wasn’t it?” snickered the new Lord Damirath.
“Is that really you, Zygor?” questioned Brakas.
“It is,” sighed the mage. “I wish they had chosen a younger body. I feel old inside this one.”
“What happened to your old one?” asked Brakas as he gazed at the empty black cloak on the floor.
“Up in smoke,” shrugged Lord Damirath as he bent down and picked up the cloak and tossed it into the corner of the room.
“All right,” Brakas shook his head. “Now how do we get out of here?”
“We don’t,” explained Lord Damirath. “We call for a healer because Marshal Ulmreto has fallen ill. There will be quite a bit of confusion, I guarantee. During that confusion, you will leave and carry out the rest of our plan. They will not even notice that the one called Zygor is missing. I will be remaining here as Lord Damirath. My first act will be to find a new marshal. Have our men ready to move here within the week.”
“You will barely have time to have uniforms made up for them,” worried Brakas.
“Do not let such small details distract you,” chided Lord Damirath. “There are many people on this estate to make uniforms. Open the door for the soldiers as I shout for a healer. Then make haste in getting off the estate. Come back when you have completed this phase of the plan.”
Chapter 7
Year of the Storm
Lord Marak signaled Botal and the squad leader called a halt to the column. Botal and the two cortains gathered around Lord Marak to hear his instructions.
“We are about to enter River’s Bend,” Lord Marak said softly. “This is where we will split up. Botal, your squad will accompany our foreign guests and me on a barge down the river. The two cortes will continue to the capital by road.”
“Why the change?” questioned Botal. “Lord Marshal Yenga will be rather angry if you dismiss your escort.
“Yenga already knows of this change in plans,” explained Lord Marak. “Lord Quavry’s message not only mentioned the caravan leaving Fardale, but also told of my plans to go to Khadoratung. We suspect that our enemy may attempt to ambush us on our way to the capital.”
“I understand the need for the barge,” nodded Botal, “but why not dismiss the two cortes? They are sure to be ambushed even if you are not among them.”
“I don’t think so,” smiled Lord Marak. “River’s Bend used to be a Situ estate before I took it for the Torak clan. I am sure that there are scores of Situ uniforms still around.
“Fifteen thousand men?” the marshal said with a sharp intake of breath. “This will cause havoc among the clans. Show me the location of the camps again.”
As the marshal stepped forward, Zygor’s hand shot out and clamped onto Ulmreto’s shoulder. The marshal halted awkwardly, his face a grimace of pain as Brakas continued pointing to the map for the lord’s benefit. The lord was engrossed in following the foreigner’s finger across the map. He did not notice the marshal was not talking until he heard the thump of a body hitting the floor. Lord Damirath turned quickly and stared at Marshal Ulmreto’s body.
“I think it is his heart,” Brakas said quickly as he knelt alongside the marshal’s body. “He is dead.”
Lord Damirath’s mouth opened to call for help, but Zygor moved swiftly. Both of Zygor’s hands gripped Lord Damirath’s neck. Brakas rose swiftly and shoved a piece of cloth into the lord’s mouth. Damirath’s eyes opened wide in horror.
“Move the marshal’s body closer to the door,” Zygor instructed Brakas as the mage’s eyes closed in concentration.
Brakas dragged the marshal’s body across the floor. He turned and saw a flash of black smoke as Zygor disappeared. As he watched with his mouth wide open, Lord Damirath removed the cloth from his mouth and grinned.
“Fairly simple, wasn’t it?” snickered the new Lord Damirath.
“Is that really you, Zygor?” questioned Brakas.
“It is,” sighed the mage. “I wish they had chosen a younger body. I feel old inside this one.”
“What happened to your old one?” asked Brakas as he gazed at the empty black cloak on the floor.
“Up in smoke,” shrugged Lord Damirath as he bent down and picked up the cloak and tossed it into the corner of the room.
“All right,” Brakas shook his head. “Now how do we get out of here?”
“We don’t,” explained Lord Damirath. “We call for a healer because Marshal Ulmreto has fallen ill. There will be quite a bit of confusion, I guarantee. During that confusion, you will leave and carry out the rest of our plan. They will not even notice that the one called Zygor is missing. I will be remaining here as Lord Damirath. My first act will be to find a new marshal. Have our men ready to move here within the week.”
“You will barely have time to have uniforms made up for them,” worried Brakas.
“Do not let such small details distract you,” chided Lord Damirath. “There are many people on this estate to make uniforms. Open the door for the soldiers as I shout for a healer. Then make haste in getting off the estate. Come back when you have completed this phase of the plan.”
Chapter 7
Year of the Storm
Lord Marak signaled Botal and the squad leader called a halt to the column. Botal and the two cortains gathered around Lord Marak to hear his instructions.
“We are about to enter River’s Bend,” Lord Marak said softly. “This is where we will split up. Botal, your squad will accompany our foreign guests and me on a barge down the river. The two cortes will continue to the capital by road.”
“Why the change?” questioned Botal. “Lord Marshal Yenga will be rather angry if you dismiss your escort.
“Yenga already knows of this change in plans,” explained Lord Marak. “Lord Quavry’s message not only mentioned the caravan leaving Fardale, but also told of my plans to go to Khadoratung. We suspect that our enemy may attempt to ambush us on our way to the capital.”
“I understand the need for the barge,” nodded Botal, “but why not dismiss the two cortes? They are sure to be ambushed even if you are not among them.”
“I don’t think so,” smiled Lord Marak. “River’s Bend used to be a Situ estate before I took it for the Torak clan. I am sure that there are scores of Situ uniforms still around.
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