Richard Tuttle - Aakuta - the Dark Mage

“This scroll did not come from the tales of a traveling merchant,” Mistake pointed out. “It has been preserved for over a thousand years in the temple in the jungle. I have seen enough of unbelievable things in the Qubari jungle that I will not discount anything I hear there.”

“You are right,” admitted Lord Marak. “Still, a civilization of intelligent apes? And even if this Vand did escape to the island of Motanga that was a long time ago. This scroll was also written a long time ago. Surely it is not pertinent any more.”

“Rejji does not hold the same skepticism that you do,” Mistake stated. “He believes that this scroll bears the truth and that we must prepare for the coming invasion.”

“And what do you think?” asked Lord Marak.

“I do not know what to think,” admitted Mistake. “So much has happened since I met Rejji. Much of it I would not have believed possible before. I tend to agree with Rejji, but I must be honest with you and myself. Part of me wants to believe that I am an elf, and that the elves still do exist. I want to believe this because that means that there is a chance that I do have family, and that I can find them someday. Maybe I am deceiving myself. I just don’t know.”

“At least your answer is honest,” Lord Marak smiled in sympathy for the young Fakaran. “May I keep this scroll for a while? I am leaving for the capital in the morning and I would like to review this in detail when I have the time.”

“It is yours to keep,” nodded Mistake. “It is exciting that you are going to Khadoratung. May I travel along with you? I would very much like to see the city that Rejji talks about so much. I would also like to see the marketplace to get ideas of what we can export. Rejji says that Ghala has grown too large already and he is planning to start new cities in other parts of Fakara.”

“You are welcome to join us,” smiled Lord Marak. “We already have a couple of Sakovans tagging along.”

“HawkShadow?” questioned Mistake.

“And StarWind,” replied Lord Marak. “Have you met?”

“I ran into HawkShadow on the way here,” responded Mistake. “He mistook me for someone called MistyTrail. Do you know her?”

Lord Marak stared at Mistake for a long moment before answering. “I thought you looked familiar when we first met here a long time ago,” he nodded. “I should have realized it then. You look remarkably like MistyTrail. So close that you could be sisters.”

“Do you think they will allow me to travel to the Sakova?” inquired Mistake. “I must meet this MistyTrail.”

“You will have to ask them,” frowned Lord Marak. “The Sakovans do not let outsiders trespass upon their land. I will vouch for your character, but that may not be enough to satisfy them.”

“You must make them allow it,” insisted Mistake. “If she is my sister, I must meet her.”

“I will do what I can,” promised Lord Marak as he began to feel uncomfortable with the topic of conversation. “So Rejji is truly rebuilding Fakara? What of the Jiadin?”

“There is bad news there,” frowned Mistake, as she knew the conversation had been intentionally changed. “Brakas and Zygor have been trying to resurrect the Jiadin. The free tribes have been hunting for them, but so far the search has not yielded their hiding place. What about your help in getting me into the Sakova?”

“If you are traveling with us to Khadoratung,” sighed Lord Marak, “you will have ample opportunity to talk with HawkShadow and StarWind. They are both high-ranking Sakovans. If anyone can get you permission to visit with MistyTrail, they can. Do not rush them, Mistake. These people have guarded their homeland with secrecy for many generations. Be open and honest with them, and I am sure they will respond in kind.”

“I understand,” pouted Mistake. “I do not blame you for not vouching for me, but I have changed. I do no steal any more. I just want to find my family.”

“You misunderstand me,” soothed Lord Marak. “I think your character is of the highest quality. You have stood by Rejji throughout every trial he has had. My hesitation has nothing to do with you. Once you meet the Sakovans, you will understand. Their very existence hangs on their secrecy. If they are to violate that for you, I want it to be their own decision, not a favor they are doing to please me. Do you understand?”

“I think I do,” Mistake nodded and smiled. “You will speak for me, though?”

“Without a doubt,” grinned Lord Marak. “In fact, by the time we reach Khadoratung, I do not think my approval will even matter to the Sakovans. You will get along with them just fine on your own.”

Lord Marak arrived at the Sorgan estate in Watula Valley. The mansion guards saluted smartly and mentioned that Marshal Patoga was expecting him. Lord Marak dismounted and gazed briefly at the star-studded sky before nodding silently to the soldiers. He climbed the steps of the mansion and made his way to the marshal’s office. Marshal Patoga and Seneschal Shamino were waiting for him.

“Is the message in Lord Quavry’s handwriting?” asked Lord Marak.

“It is,” the seneschal nodded seriously. “There is no doubt in my mind that Lord Quavry has betrayed you.”

“Then let us go and attend to this foul deed,” snarled Lord Marak. “I cannot understand what he hopes to gain by his deceit.”

“He seeks your ruin,” interjected Marshal Patoga.

“My ruin will not return the Sorgan clan to his hands,” Lord Marak shook his head. “I have made explicit arrangements in the event of my death that all who owe allegiance to me shall be free men with ties to no one.”

“I suspect he thinks the Lords’ Council will overrule you,” offered Seneschal Shamino. “That is possible. The lords of Khadora would never accept your instructions.”

Lord Marak appeared lost in thought for several moments as the seneschal’s words sank in. He finally realized the truth in the words and vowed to find a way to make sure his wishes would be carried out in the event of his death.

“We should go,” Marshal Patoga said softly. “You both have a long journey ahead of you in the morning.”

Lord Marak nodded, and Marshal Patoga led the way to Lord Quavry’s chamber. Lord Marak opened the door to Lord Quavry’s room without knocking. The three visitors entered quietly, but Lord Quavry was awake and staring at them as they entered.

“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” barked Lord Quavry. “I may owe allegiance to you, but I still demand that you show me the respect due a lord.”

“There is no amount of respect that I could afford to show you,” retorted Lord Marak. “You have violated your Vows of Service to me. Who is the enemy that you conspire with?”

“Enemy?” blustered Lord Quavry. “What are you talking about? I have conspired with no one.”

“We intercepted your bird,” Lord Marak stated impatiently. “Where was it headed?”

“Bird?” echoed Lord Quavry. “I have no idea what you are talking about. If anyone sent a bird from Watula Valley, it was not my doing.”

“I checked with the bird keeper,” interrupted Seneschal Shamino. “He has verified that you released one of your special birds earlier today.”

“He is lying,” snapped Lord Quavry. “I shall deal with him immediately.”

“Stay,” commanded Lord Marak as Lord Quavry rose and started making for the door. “There is no fault to the bird keeper. It is you who are lying.”

“Nonsense,” insisted Lord Quavry. “You have no proof of any wrongdoings by me. This is just some game that you are playing to remove me from power and violate your own words.”

“I do not need a reason to remove you from office,” Lord Marak pointed out. “You serve at my pleasure. I do, however, need proof to end your life. I have the proof, but I am willing to spare your life if you will tell me who the enemy is that you conspire with.”