Richard Tuttle - Young Lord of Khadora

“How many?” called Tagoro.

“Six,” replied Marak as he suddenly burst into action.

Tagoro shook his head but kept his eyes glued on his friend. Marak did not wait for the six men to get their attack coordinated, but charged straight ahead, holding his sword low. When he approached the edge of the clearing, Marak leaped towards his foe with his long, double-edged sword preceding him. The sword stuck in the tree, which Tagoro assumed was the foe, and Marak continued onward in a roll. Marak completed the roll and sprung to his feet while thrusting both hands out before him. Marak was already on his way to retrieve his sword when Tagoro heard the thuds on either side of himself. Tagoro looked in shock as he recognized the two Omunga Stars stuck in the trees on each side of him. Marak ran past the sevemor tree that held his blade, grabbing the hilt as he passed. Dancing to his right, he whipped the sword from behind him in an upward slash and followed through with a lateral slice across the unseen man’s midsection. Quickly, Marak started backpedaling from the remaining two assailants. Turning as if to make a run for it, Marak suddenly pivoted back to his foes and slashed out with a wicked figure eight and a stabbing thrust to remove the last two opponents.

Tagoro applauded wildly as Marak walked over and picked up a towel to dry his face. The warrior retrieved his two Omunga Stars and placed them in the pouch behind his broad belt.

“One thing does bother me with that approach,” chuckled Tagoro. “What if you weren’t able to retrieve your sword out of the man’s body in time? You were heading straight for the enemy without a weapon.”

Marak laughed and thrust his hands outward, flicking his wrists. Both hands immediately filled with throwing knives. “Not exactly defenseless,” chuckled Marak, “although I would much rather have my sword against the three opponents who were left. Besides, they all had swords and I’m sure I could get my hands on one of them. There were three of them who no longer needed theirs by then.”

Tagoro whistled and shook his head. “Remind me never to cut in front of you in the food line,” wisecracked Tagoro. “I have good news for you. I overheard Lord Marshal Grefon talking to Cortain Koors this morning. Lord Ridak’s estate Lords are arriving today, all five of them. He’s pulling Rybak’s squad from the fields as one of the squads to greet the visitors. One of our squads is supposed to replace them and the other will join his squad for the greeting.”

“Great!” exclaimed Marak. “This is the chance I have been waiting for. Finally, I‘ll have the right to talk to the slaves. You don’t mind doing the greeting, do you?”

“Mind?” queried Tagoro. “I can’t think of anything I would rather do. It is not often that a lowly Squad Leader gets to meet the six Lords of the Situ Clan and their Marshals. Being noticed is the fastest way to promotions in a Clan.”

“Wonderful,” remarked Marak. “Today we will both get what we desire the most. I better get back and get cleaned up.”

Marak gathered his gear and joined Tagoro on the walk back to the barracks. The estate was busy this morning as laborers and household staff ran around preparing for the guests. Every spring, Lord Ridak summoned his five estate Lords to Lituk Valley to report on matters of importance to the whole clan. Each of the five Lords would be accompanied by his Marshal and a contingent of forces to protect the Lord. Lord Ridak was not one of the most powerful Lords in Khadora, but his estates covered more territory than most as the Lituk Valley area was sparsely populated.

Marak rushed through the barracks and into his room where he could wash up and put on a clean uniform. As he emerged from his room into the communal officer’s area, he saw that Cortain Koors was waiting for him.

“Having a little trouble getting it together this morning, Squad Leader?” snapped Koors. “I have been looking for you for over half an hour and I didn’t appreciate finding you missing.”

“My apologies, Cortain,” offered Marak. “I felt the need for some early morning sword practice and have just returned.”

Koors turned and looked at Tagoro who was neatly attired and standing at attention. “I have special duties for your two squads for the next three days,” declared the Cortain. “Squad Leader Rybak’s squad is being moved out of the fields to serve as a greeting guard and his people need to be replaced.”

Marak tried to hide his smile as the Cortain stared at the two Squad Leaders. “Lord Marshal Grefon has given the honor of providing greeters this year to me, and two of my squads will be required. Tagoro, your squad will replace Rybak’s and manage the slaves. Marak, your men will form up with Rybak’s and perform greeting duties.”

“But . . . ,” protested Marak.

“But nothing,” snarled Cortain Koors. “I am in command of this Corte and I will decide which squads perform the duties we are required to provide. You will provide greeting services for the next three days, Marak, and if one of your little misfits gets out of line, you will be visiting the slave quarters on a permanent basis. Get your men ready to assemble.”

Cortain Koors spun and marched out of the barracks leaving the two Squad Leaders gaping. As soon as the door to the communal officer’s room had closed an Omunga Star flew through the air and lodged in the wood.

“You must control your temper,” admonished Tagoro. “He is purposely trying to goad you into a confrontation.”

“Perhaps,” mused Marak, “his elimination would be seen as a service to Lord Ridak. Every estate strives to rid itself of vermin.”

“This decision must have been hard for Koors,” suggested Tagoro. “He knows you desire to speak to your mother and, yet, it is an honor to be on the greeting squad. He had to give you one of the two and he would have preferred to give you neither.”

“I think Cortain Koors will have other difficult decisions ahead of him,” remarked Marak as he retrieved his Omunga Star and entered the main room of the barracks.

Both groups of men were already dressed in clean uniforms and were busy checking their attire for spots or tears that might embarrass the squad when the visitors arrived. Marak and Tagoro snapped orders to the men and they filed out of the barracks in two smooth columns. Rybak’s Squad was already assembled and was holding pikes in addition to their usual weapons.

“I will have my Squad handle the gate and road,” suggested Squad Leader Rybak when Marak appeared out of the barracks.

Marak simply nodded. Both squads would have the prestige of performing greeting duties, but Rybak’s men would get to stand down once the Lords had arrived. Marak’s Squad would be pressed into long hours of duty while the Lords met day and night during the next three days. The fact that Rybak’s men already had formed with pikes was not lost on Marak. Cortain Koors had made sure that his pet Squad Leader would have the easiest duty while still retaining the honor.

While Squad Leader Rybak’s men drifted off towards the main gate of the Situ estate, Marak ordered his men into a tight column and marched them towards the mansion. Lord Marshal Grefon, with the distinctive yellow and green plumes and gold trim on his helmet, stood on the porch by the front steps conversing with his two Lectains, whose helmets were adorned with only green plumes. Each Lectain commanded three Cortains who were each responsible for three or four squads. The officers watched Marak’s squad approach and stopped talking when Squad Leader Marak halted the column and saluted the Lord Marshal.

“Squad Leader Marak reporting as ordered, Lord Marshal,” recited Marak.

Lord Marshal Grefon’s face frowned as his eyes roved over the assembled squad. “I thought Squad Leader Tagoro was handling this detail,” stated Grefon.