Marked (45 page)

Isuzeni summoned his most trusted servant. When he came into the room, Isuzeni immediately ordered him to lay out the valuable maps of Tremia.
Yes, the maps... they always help me come up with ideas; they get my brain working and thinking creatively... which is absolutely essential when turning thoughts into plans.
Maps were a useful tool for his mind, like a hammer that, when it strikes an anvil, shapes the steel. The maps allowed him to visualize his plans, think up new strategies, and plot out the next moves in the complex game developing on the global scene.

He needed to think... to plan. It was time to specify the new orders to be transmitted to his agents in that far-off continent of big-nosed, round-eyed men. His strategy had been working well up to now—just as he had envisioned. The execution of his orders by his undercover agents had been nearly flawless. He had invested almost two years meticulously weaving the entire plan that would eventually bring about the resolution the Dark Queen was seeking.

He had carefully placed the pieces, selecting each agent with the highest degree of scrutiny. Every single action had been studied with painstaking, delicate precision. Through it all, no one had had the slightest suspicion. Every move he’d made had been masked, perfectly concealed from the eyes of his rivals, completely invisible to the principal characters in the drama that was unfolding. All the long, solitary hours spent scheming, weaving the intricate web, were beginning to pay off, and that filled him with pride. The satisfaction gained from achieving such positive results was intoxicating. 

But now he had suffered two unexpected setbacks and the Dark Queen, Empress of Toyomi, was displeased—and that was extremely dangerous. He could lose his head if he did not immediately rectify the situation. His mistress did not tolerate even the slightest failure—not even from him, her right-hand man. He had promised results he had not been able to deliver. Nonetheless, that extraordinarily important situation was being dealt with at that very moment. His loyal agent in Ocorum had set events in motion that would bring about the deaths of the Marked and the elusive White Soul. He finally had located them after they had disappeared as though the earth itself had swallowed them up. And this time they would not survive, not them or those who were with them. They would all die, without exception. Then, finally, he would be able to tell the Dark Queen that The Premonition would not be fulfilled; that death would not touch her. And that is what he had been fighting for since the first moment when the capricious Skull of Destiny had shown him the fatal destiny awaiting her. The Empress would not die and her ambitious plans for Tremia could move forward.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  
                                                                                                                                                                                          

Isuzeni almost felt a pang of pity for the unfortunate Marked. After all, it was not his fault he had been born with a destiny that had inexorably placed him opposite the most powerful woman in the world. If he gave up that destiny, the Marked could save himself. But, no; the Dark Queen would not take that chance. Even if the Marked crawled on his hands and knees, begging, renouncing that predetermined destiny, she would kill him. Yuzumi would most definitely not take any chances. She would slit his throat without thinking twice. In the end, only one of the two could survive. Either him, or her. There was not room for both of them on the face of the earth.

You must die, Marked, and so you shall. Soon. Very soon. Of that I have no doubt.

Rubbing his hands together in eager anticipation, Isuzeni cackled triumphantly.

But now, he had to keep working. The Marked was only part of his problem. He spread the large map of Tremia out on his desk and, based on the latest information he had received, mentally placed his agents and the persons of interest on it. Unfortunately, due to the great distance that separated the two continents, the news he was getting was arriving with a two-month delay. Working with incomplete information, or information delayed by distance, never knowing for certain the last or most recent moves of his adversaries, was dangerous. Very risky indeed. One false move, one move at the wrong time, and failure would come down on his head like a vulture.       

As of that moment, all the reports from his agents had been favorable. The three largest kingdoms were on the verge of all-out war, a war that would divide the continent and send it spiraling into chaos amidst absolute destruction. Death and horror would dominate the rich, fertile land of those three great military powers, decimating their armies, their resources, their current power.

He studied the South, from where the covetous Noceans would invade Rogdon. Then the North, from where the Norghanians would relentlessly descend. Finally the West, where Rogdon was already preparing its defenses.

The continent would go down in flames. Utterly annihilated. Only the smaller kingdoms of the East and the Confederation of Free Cities on the easternmost coast would be spared from the devastation.

The scheme was working as he had intended and soon his plan would succeed—just as his mistress expected of him. He just needed one last push to bring about the inevitable massacre the Dark Queen so fervently desired.

I am very close to attaining my goal; just a few more methodical steps and the masterful plan will be complete. My patience is wearing thin, but I must remain calm, be extremely cautious, and wait for the right moment—the irreversible moment when I will light the fire that will ignite a state of total chaos.

He leaned on his desk and carefully placed a pin on the map to indicate where the Norghanian army was assembling: northeast of Rogdon, in the middle of Masig territory on the vast steppes, near Half-Moon Pass. Little by little, like a long, scaly, red and white serpent, the Norghanian army descended from the snow-capped mountains in the icy north to the border with Rogdon. The Rogdonian men would undoubtedly send reinforcements to Half-Moon Fortress. Having borne the brunt of a stream of past invasions by the men of the snows, the fortress guarded the northeast passage into Rogdonian territory.

Excellent. It will not take them long to decide to attack. The Norghanians are not exactly known for their patience. King Thoran of Norghana is a pig-headed brute, blinded by fury over the loss of his brother Orten. He will soon order an attack on Rogdon. And if he doesn’t, he will have to be pushed along by the invisible hand of destiny—my destiny.

He smiled, nodding his head in satisfaction.

He took another pin and placed it on the Rogdonian frontier in the stronghold city of Alaband—the residence of Mulko, the Nocean Empire’s Regent of the North, where another large army was amassing.

Ah, those ever-astute Noceans...  given the right opportunity, they would never let the chance to deliver a powerful blow to their neighbors to the north pass them by. If Rogdon isn’t careful, they’ll end up annexed to that all-powerful desert empire. But that doesn’t matter to us, now does it? No, of course not. We cannot allow the Noceans to gain more power on the continent. We will have to do something about that once they invade the proud kingdom of Rogdon.

He scratched his chin, deep in thought, then opened a drawer of his desk and took out more pins. He placed one in the northeast on the great Half-Moon Fortress and the other in the south of the kingdom of Rogdon in the beautiful fortified city of Silanda, located in the middle of an arid valley where the lands belonging to the blue and silver kingdom came to an end and the territories conquered by the Nocean Empire began. The rich and powerful city kept a close eye on the intentions of its cunning neighbors from the land of the eternal sun. These two pins represented the Rogdonian armies that were assembling in both fortresses.

The question is whether or not these two vital fortresses will be able to withstand simultaneous attacks by the Norghanians in the northeast and the Noceans in the south. Will Rogdon be able to defend both bastions from invasion? I think not. Those arrogant men in blue and silver will have to give up, retreat back within the walls, and defend against the inevitable.

Conflict was brewing; a triangle of centuries-old hatred was on the verge of exploding like a massive volcano, with Rogdon in the center, facing imminent devastation. But it was crucial for war to break out and for both the Noceans and the Norghanians to invade Rogdon. The West had to fall; that was essential for the Empress’ plans. So it had to happen, whatever the cost.

“That is how it must be, and so it will be!” Isuzeni loudly exclaimed, pounding his fist into the center of Rodgon territory on the map.

He sat down in his comfortable armchair, concentrating on the map. Thinking, plotting, scheming his masterful plan. Many long hours passed before he’d finalized the design of his next moves.

This is an extremely difficult game. I cannot see my adversaries’ moves as they make them, so I must cover every possible play. I must anticipate their actions, guess their most logical, most probable reactions. Three simultaneous games against three expert rivals, with me blindfolded... A complex task with enormous risks. The future of the powerful kingdoms of that immense continent is hanging from a delicate thread. I will defeat them. The game will be mine. I will triumph over them and their blood will bathe all of Tremia.

He contemplated the map one final time and, after a few moments, began to write the messages that would be delivered to his agents. He sealed them and called his servant. Handing him the three messages, he gave him the instructions he was to follow. After he hads left, Isuzeni continued to gaze silently at the map, looking for any detail he may have missed, any oversight, going over in his mind each of the decisions he had made.

The game is mine. Soon I will have won. Tremia will fall!

His last thought before giving in to his exhaustion was of the Marked. By now, he would be dead.

Isuzeni smiled, his mouth already tasting sweet victory.

I have the good fortune to have great friends and a fantastic family, and it’s thanks to them that this book is now a reality. I cannot put into words the incredible support they’ve given me during this voyage of epic proportions. 

I would like to thank my good friend Guiller C for all of his support, unwavering encouragement, and unbeatable advice. This saga, not just this book, never would have existed if not for you.

Sara M., who has supported me, helped me, taught me, and most of all, put up with me with infinite patience for thousands of hours—thank you for having been here by my side, and thank you for all your selfless work and efforts.

Roser M., for the lectures, the commentaries, the critiques; for everything you taught me and all your help on a thousand and one things. And for being such a great guy.

The Bro, who—as always—supported me and helped me as only he can.

My parents, who are the best in the world and have been an incredible help and support to me on this and all my projects.

Guiller B, for all your great advice, ideas, help and, above all, support.

Olaya Martinez for being an exceptional editor, a tireless worker, a tremendous professional and, above all, for her encouragement and excitement—not to mention everything she has taught me along the way.

Sarima, for being an amazing artist with exquisite taste who draws like an angel. Visit her web page:
http://envuelorasante.com/
.
 

And finally, many thanks to you, the reader, for supporting a new writer. I hope you have enjoyed the book. And if so, I would very much appreciate a review and a hearty recommendation to your friends and acquaintances.

Thank you so very much.

Pedro.