TCO: Chapter Twenty-Five

Mordán stared out the top floor window of his palace office, his back to Kar and two other Vaznaun alongside Tarak, who stood near the office door. Kar had just finished telling Mordán of Tarak's capture.

"I don't think you realize exactly what you have initiated here, Kar." Mordán's eyes flashed with fury. "My armies are not ready to withstand a counter-attack, should the light warriors decide to retaliate for your thoughtless antics." His calm voice carried a deadly tone. "And yet, I am conflicted as to whether or not your stupidity should be forgiven…after bringing such a treasure into my grasp."

Mordán turned and slowly approached his visitors. His elaborate, soft navy-blue palace robes contrasted the stony look upon his handsome middle-aged face.

Tarak stared in silence at the floor, his hands still bound behind his back. He stood between the two Vaznaun, who had a firm grasp on his arms. His loose trousers were torn in several places. Dried dirt and blood of the Vaznaun he had killed spread across the circular and diagonal blue markings on his chest and arms.

Mordán placed a finger under Tarak's chin and lifted his face slowly. Tarak jerked forward against the Vaznaun's grasp in response, anger flooding his expression as he met Mordán's eye.

Mordán dropped his hand from Tarak's face and stared at Tarak with a look of amusement. "I would think it impossible if you were not standing before me. What an asset you could be to my army…Tarak, is it?"

"I will not serve you," Tarak hissed.

"Your stubbornness will wane as you encounter some of my… methods of persuasion."

Despite the difference in stature—Kar being much larger and a full head taller than any of the others in the room except Tarak—it was clear that Mordán was in control. He turned back to Kar.

"Know that I will slit the throats of every member of your family without thought if you ever work outside my orders again, especially for a worthless adventure that served nothing more than to squelch your boredom," Mordán stated as he attempted to control his temper. "If the light warriors do not arrive by nightfall to avenge the villagers, consider yourself lucky. You have already dodged their retaliation once before, after your men attacked their ship months ago. I doubt fate will be as lenient a second time."

He turned his back on Tarak and the others in dismissal. "Take him to the caves and send Lucian to me immediately."

Several minutes later after the others had gone, Lucian  entered Mordán's office.

"You sent for me, sire?" Lucian, Mordán's most trusted advisor and head of the Kraundor Council, strolled quickly to Mordán's desk.

"Yes. We need to discuss our plans for what to do with the light warrior. First, we must attempt to retrieve vital information from him. We need to find out whether the Order knows of his existence."

"It's possible that the warriors have not learned of him yet, otherwise Elder Master Syam would have tried to persuade him to join the Order. However, we cannot be sure unless the Vaznaun light warrior divulges the information directly."

"Then we must get him to speak," Mordán. "What do you know of his abilities?"

"From what I have learned from Kar, it seems that he is unaware of the extent of his power, which is another reason it is likely he has not yet met other light warriors. Otherwise, his capture would not have come so easily. He has not tried to use any of his abilities to escape either, which suggests that he is unaware of his power."

"You know of their training?"

"Some, yes. Although there is not much archived information on their abilities, I learned some things when my family came to own some of my great uncle's possessions after he died. Included in his belongings were journals that included light warrior training techniques written by his father years ago."

"You have light warrior ancestors," Mordán stated rather than asked, sitting up straighter in his chair.

"Yes, but although the warrior trait is most often passed through generations, the incarnation of a light warrior isn't determined this way…" Lucian replied, as if reading Mordán's mind, "…meaning, that you can't just breed a light warrior. A warrior only incarnates at specific times in history, so there is no determining when another will be born."

"Well if we can't find a way to make more of his kind, we can certainly experiment with Tarak's ability to learn more about our enemy."

Lucian nodded. "Of course, sire." He turned to leave the room.

"Oh, and Lucian…"

Lucian paused and glanced back at Mordán.

"If our normal persuasive methods are ineffective, send Akila to him in the morning."

Lucian shuddered involuntarily. "Certainly," he replied. He inclined his head to Mordán and strode out of the room.

***