“Please do,” nodded Lord Marak. “I am always open to new ideas.”

“Make your mage corps very public,” chuckled the magician. “Set up a mage school in one of Khadora’s cities. Do not align it with yourself, but make it appear as a legitimate business, a school for training those with magical talent. Other clans might send their mages to your school, and unless I am mistaken about human nature, those mages will become excellent spies for you. You could also hire out the services of the mages at the school to estates so that the clans would no longer have need to maintain their own mages.”

“They would be eager to shed their estates of the untrained mages they already have,” brightened Lord Marak, “especially if I were to sell the mage services inexpensively.”

“Exactly,” Master Malafar nodded vigorously. “You will actually end up controlling all of the mages in Khadora. Oh, someone might try to start another school to be in competition with you, but mages cannot be treated as slaves and still prosper. No Khadoran would free his slaves to be your competition.”

“You are a genius, Master Malafar,” laughed Lord Marak. “We have acquired so many mages that I am having a hard time keeping up with the housing needs here in Fardale. Sooner or later their practice field would have to become known to my enemies. I shall see to having that school set up right away. I do wish you would stay here longer. You may have other ideas that would prove helpful.”

“I cannot delay any longer,” Master Malafar objected. “Three days is all I will spend here. I should have left when we first arrived last month, but I wanted to do something for you as a payment for your help in Omunga. Without your interfering, I would have remained ignorant of my own people’s deceit. Now I can consider you repaid.”