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Authors: Richard S. Tuttle
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complained that you were ruining his plan before he changed the orders.”
“Thank you, Squad Leader,” sighed Grefon. “You will not speak of this meeting unless I direct you to. You are dismissed. Send the others in as you leave.”
Rybak snapped a salute and quickly fled to the sitting room where he informed Marak and Koors to return to the study as he left. Marak and Koors entered the study and closed the door. The Lord Marshal opened a drawer in his desk and withdrew a sheet of paper and handed it to Cortain Koors.
“As you can see, Cortain,” declared Grefon, “I have a bit of a problem here. You have brought before me a man accused of violating his Vows of Service by talking with slaves. A man in the Army with a rank of Cortain is allowed that privilege. If you read the pronouncement in your hands, you will notice that its purpose is to elevate Squad Leader Marak to the rank of Cortain. It should be duly noted that both Lord Ridak and I signed this document the day before the first meeting day. While you may argue that Squad Leader Marak violated his Vows of Service, the accused may argue that Cortain Marak did not.”
Marak’s eyes grew wide as he followed the conversation. No one had ever made Cortain in six years that he knew of. The elation quickly subsided to regret. If only he had held out for a few more days, he would have been able to see his mother without this disciplinary action. He had already made his grand speech belittling the Lord Marshal’s Army and Grefon would be within his rights to tear up the pronouncement.
“But this is impossible,” squealed Koors. “It is not official, no pronouncement was made. He didn’t even know about his promotion when he leaped over the fence.”
“You are quite right about his knowing,” nodded the Lord Marshal. “Nevertheless, he was officially a Cortain at the time. The announcement was being held back until there was an opening for a Cortain. Lord Ridak is against expanding the Army to include another Corte, so the announcement of his promotion was put off until someone died or retired.”
“Well, that is certainly not going to happen any time soon,” smiled Koors. “If you do not plan to take any action on this matter, I am within my rights to petition Lord Ridak to rule on it. Whether he was a Cortain or a Squad Leader, he violated his Vows of Service because he had neither knowledge of his promotion nor orders which allowed him such liberties.”
Lord Marshal Grefon held up his hands in surrender. “If you are adamant about appealing to Lord Ridak, there is nothing I can do to stop you. In all fairness to the accused, though, he should be made aware that I issued orders to you placing him in the fields with the slaves on the day of the first meeting. Technically, his orders were to be with the slaves for the duration of the meeting days.”
“You did not specify which squad I was to use,” blurted Koors. “I must have misunderstood . . .” Koors looked at the smile on the Lord Marshal’s face and knew he was beaten. The way Rybak averted his eyes when he had left the Lord Marshal’s study flashed into Koors mind, and the Cortain knew he was in more trouble than Marak. Marak, at least, had some excuse, Koors did not. The Lord Marshal was never a stickler on how his orders were carried out as long as they were accomplished, but on this occasion he had specifically ordered Marak into the fields. Rybak had squealed and there was little Koors could do about it.
“Cortain Koors,” addressed Grefon, “you have given long years of service to this Clan . . . over twenty years . . . if I am not mistaken. Lord Ridak would probably not be as impressed with that as I am. I think an officer with your fine service to the Situ Clan should have an elegant retirement party, not a trial. Of course, nobody has made any accusations against you . . . yet.”
The Lord Marshal handed Koors writing materials and sighed. Koors stared at the paper in
“Thank you, Squad Leader,” sighed Grefon. “You will not speak of this meeting unless I direct you to. You are dismissed. Send the others in as you leave.”
Rybak snapped a salute and quickly fled to the sitting room where he informed Marak and Koors to return to the study as he left. Marak and Koors entered the study and closed the door. The Lord Marshal opened a drawer in his desk and withdrew a sheet of paper and handed it to Cortain Koors.
“As you can see, Cortain,” declared Grefon, “I have a bit of a problem here. You have brought before me a man accused of violating his Vows of Service by talking with slaves. A man in the Army with a rank of Cortain is allowed that privilege. If you read the pronouncement in your hands, you will notice that its purpose is to elevate Squad Leader Marak to the rank of Cortain. It should be duly noted that both Lord Ridak and I signed this document the day before the first meeting day. While you may argue that Squad Leader Marak violated his Vows of Service, the accused may argue that Cortain Marak did not.”
Marak’s eyes grew wide as he followed the conversation. No one had ever made Cortain in six years that he knew of. The elation quickly subsided to regret. If only he had held out for a few more days, he would have been able to see his mother without this disciplinary action. He had already made his grand speech belittling the Lord Marshal’s Army and Grefon would be within his rights to tear up the pronouncement.
“But this is impossible,” squealed Koors. “It is not official, no pronouncement was made. He didn’t even know about his promotion when he leaped over the fence.”
“You are quite right about his knowing,” nodded the Lord Marshal. “Nevertheless, he was officially a Cortain at the time. The announcement was being held back until there was an opening for a Cortain. Lord Ridak is against expanding the Army to include another Corte, so the announcement of his promotion was put off until someone died or retired.”
“Well, that is certainly not going to happen any time soon,” smiled Koors. “If you do not plan to take any action on this matter, I am within my rights to petition Lord Ridak to rule on it. Whether he was a Cortain or a Squad Leader, he violated his Vows of Service because he had neither knowledge of his promotion nor orders which allowed him such liberties.”
Lord Marshal Grefon held up his hands in surrender. “If you are adamant about appealing to Lord Ridak, there is nothing I can do to stop you. In all fairness to the accused, though, he should be made aware that I issued orders to you placing him in the fields with the slaves on the day of the first meeting. Technically, his orders were to be with the slaves for the duration of the meeting days.”
“You did not specify which squad I was to use,” blurted Koors. “I must have misunderstood . . .” Koors looked at the smile on the Lord Marshal’s face and knew he was beaten. The way Rybak averted his eyes when he had left the Lord Marshal’s study flashed into Koors mind, and the Cortain knew he was in more trouble than Marak. Marak, at least, had some excuse, Koors did not. The Lord Marshal was never a stickler on how his orders were carried out as long as they were accomplished, but on this occasion he had specifically ordered Marak into the fields. Rybak had squealed and there was little Koors could do about it.
“Cortain Koors,” addressed Grefon, “you have given long years of service to this Clan . . . over twenty years . . . if I am not mistaken. Lord Ridak would probably not be as impressed with that as I am. I think an officer with your fine service to the Situ Clan should have an elegant retirement party, not a trial. Of course, nobody has made any accusations against you . . . yet.”
The Lord Marshal handed Koors writing materials and sighed. Koors stared at the paper in
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