The Burning Tower

by Colin Glassey

  Gloval’s wound had not healed well; he found it difficult to climb the stairs to his room, so he had taken to sleeping at the end of the dining room, with screens around his bed. The masked intruders had found him early in the attack, and he’d been in no good condition to defend himself.

  Kagne got down onto his knees and cradled Gloval’s head. Gloval had been part of Kagne’s herb team; normally a laconic cowherd, Gloval could curse with the best of them when he lost at cards.

  Sandun left Kagne with Gloval’s body and went out to the courtyard. There he saw Lathe fighting with a much larger man who was standing near the gate. At first, Sandun thought Lathe was fighting with his usual sticks, but then he saw the young man was using shortswords. Again, Sandun was amazed at Lathe’s speed and physical agility. The bigger man’s blows seemed to miss Lathe by feet, not inches. Lathe’s swords cut the man in several places until blood was dripping down his arms. And then in a move too swift for Sandun to understand, Lathe was behind the big man and kicked him in the back of his head, sending the man to the ground.

  “I want him alive,” said Sir Ako to Lathe. Then he ran off to the sounds of more fighting in the back of the house. Lathe followed Sir Ako lightly on silent feet.

  Sandun stood over the fallen attacker with his sword at the prone man’s neck while Basil closed the gate and barred it. Kagne appeared with some cords and bound the man up like a bale of hay.

  Valo Peli strode into view from out of the shadows, his bow in hand, looking pained. He had a piece of bloody cloth wrapped around his neck. He started examining the bodies in the courtyard in the faint starlight. One belonged to their gate guard, an old boatman with a bad leg. Around his neck was a silken cord.

  “The attackers appear to be river men, by their style of dress and choice of weapons. I guess that some were soldiers of Vasvar who surrendered after the battle,” said Valo Peli.

  Sandun told him, “Gloval is dead. As is one of the kitchen servants.”

  “Since the fighting has died down, let us go examine them. There may be some hope. I expect the city watch will be here soon. Someone must let them in.”

  Kagne agreed to stay at the gate and keep an eye on the prisoner. Sandun led Valo Peli and Basil to the bodies.

  Both the kitchen servant and Gloval were cold to the touch, and Valo Peli shook his head in dismay. They found a young servant girl hiding in a closet. As soon as she came out, she burst into tears and clutched at Valo Peli’s legs.

  He spoke to her sharply. “Go and heat some water! Many have been injured while you hid.”

  The young girl wiped her eyes and then bowed to them several times before going to the fireplace.

  Of the intruders, they found eleven men dead and two injured. Ashala came out when Sandun called to her. She said to him, “Outside, toward the eastern market, I saw flames and heard the beating of the alarm.”

  Once she mentioned it, Sandun heard the noise as well.

  “A coordinated arson and attack. No wonder the watch has not arrived,” Valo Peli said thoughtfully.

  Instead of the watch, the first people through the gate were members of the palace guard. Half an hour later, Lord Vaina appeared with more soldiers at his back.

  As Valo Peli explained the situation, Lord Vaina looked around and then came up to the prisoners. He looked with a grim face at the three men on their knees in the torchlight.

  “I know you,” Lord Vaina said, his voice flat and hard, addressing the big man who had been knocked down by Lathe. “You were one of the officers of the Vasvar army who surrendered to General Kun. I saw you and your men two days after the battle. You swore to serve me then. Now you will tell me who you were trying to kill and how much you were to be paid.”

  The big man looked up and then back down at the ground. He was silent. The noise of the fire alarm had died away.

  “Your death is foretold. The only question is, how many of your companions will die in addition to you. Ten? One hundred? One thousand? I offered you the hand of mercy, and you have repaid me with betrayal. Everyone you know will die!” Lord Vaina’s voice was thick with a barely suppressed rage.

  “Wait, wait, I will tell you everything. Just spare my men,” said the big man.

  “Speak, then. I promise nothing.”

  “A man I knew, a smuggler, from Virmakla, a week past. He offered me fifty strings, in silver, to kill Arno Boethy.”

  “Why?”

  “He said Nilin Ulim wanted Arno Boethy dead and everyone with him. He said the Kitran army was coming, and their retribution would be the murderous thrashing of the riverbeast, but those who killed Boethy would be brought on board their mighty ship.”

  Lord Vaina drew his sword in fury and slashed it across the man’s shoulder, drawing blood. “The Kitran are coming like the terrible riverbeast? You piece of fish shit, how is their army getting across the Mur? Will dragons carry them? Or were you and your traitorous friends going to steal my boats and present them to Nilin Ulim to save your miserable necks?”

  The big man struggled in the grasp of two of the palace guards. “No! No! We never would have done that.”

  Lord Vaina told one of his officials to take the man and the two injured away for detailed questioning. “Find out everything they know; use every means. They die tomorrow along with a thousand of their compatriots. This one feared the wrath of the Kitran? Bah! He feared the wrong army. He should have feared me!”

  He told a guard to take a message to General Kun, which he rapidly wrote on a portable writing desk carried by a scribe.

  “Let me see your dead,” Lord Vaina said heavily. Sandun led him to the dining room, followed by all the Keltens and Valo Peli.

  Gloval’s body had been laid back on his bed, covered by a sheet. Lord Vaina drew back the sheet, uncovering the man’s face. Then he got to his knees and bowed down, his head nearly touching the floor.

  The room was silent for a minute. A faint light from the eastern sky could be seen through the high, narrow windows.

  “I am shamed,” Lord Vaina said after rising to his feet. “I trusted soldiers of Vasvar, and they spat on my mercy. The city watch also failed in their duty to guard this embassy, and that failure will be punished severely.”

  Valo Peli got down on his knees and bowed. “Lord Vaina, the responsibility is mine. These assassins sought to kill me. I should have been living apart and not been here, drawing dangers to others.”

  “No, you were well hidden here. The Sogands have better spies than we imagined, given that your true name was known to only a few and you spent most of your days holed up here like badger in his den. However, I have heard some people connect the fire arrows from the battle with your name.” Lord Vaina got up and helped Valo Peli to his feet. Addressing Sir Ako, Lord Vaina said, “Shall we continue the ceremony planned for tomorrow, or do you wish it delayed?”

  “I wish no delay, Lord Vaina. I ask only that Gloval, Sir Gloval, be named as a knight of Serica along with us, his living companions.”

  “Certainly. That is a very Serice thing to do. We are not so different, Keltens and Serice.”

  The next evening, the Keltens marched over to the old temple of Sho’Ash, wearing their new burnished armor. Some work on the temple had already been completed: the dust was long gone, the old wooden statue of Sho’Ash was bound with strips of silver-plated copper. All night, they prayed and stood watch. At three times during the night, the old priest and his son recited sections of the ritual, the first from the beginning of the year, the second from the harvest, and the last, just at dawn, telling of Sho’Ash’s death and ascension.

  Then the Keltens, blessed by the priest, marched back again through the dawn-lit streets. A few of the early merchants saluted them, but the street sweepers ignored them and continued to collect the trash in the quiet morning.

  Several hours’ rest were followed by a grand proces
sion to the palace. They were escorted by one of the regiments of Tokolas soldiers. Now the streets were crowded, and scattered cheers greeted them as they walked uphill. For the first time, the main gates to the palace, great heavy iron and wood doors painted with fresh green paint, were open to them.

  They marched into the central plaza to find a large assembly of people, all dressed in elaborate costumes. On the one side were what looked like all the civilian officials, dressed in long robes decorated with animals and flowers. On the other side were the officers of the Kunhalvar army, all with their armor and carrying great spears and swords with silk banners hanging off the shafts.

  “I didn’t expect such a great crowd,” Sir Ako said to Sandun as they walked in between the ranks of men.

  “I think Lord Vaina is doing more than just knighting us.”

  Indeed, as they came before the Lord of Kunhalvar, who was seated on a richly carved and painted wooden throne, they found the other generals standing beside them: General Erdis, General Kun, and five other generals who Sandun did not know by name.

  “I feel distinctly uncomfortable,” Sandun whispered to Sir Ako.

  “Try walking up to the king and all the nobles of the realm before the royal tournament, Sandun. Since you are a knight, you should learn to joust. You aren’t too old!”

  Sandun shook his head. He was not going to learn to joust.

  The chief administrator now stood forth and invoked the blessing of heaven and the spirits. Musicians holding strangely shaped instruments played an odd, atonal music. Women in striped gowns danced a spinning dance where they changed places on a geometric grid.

  Silks with painted symbols in gold ink were tossed into the braziers that stood on either side of the stage. Many of the words the old man used were unfamiliar to Sandun, and he saw that Lord Vaina looked somewhat puzzled himself at times. But then Lord Vaina rose and nodded to his advisor. When the lord spoke in his commanding voice, it boomed across the great open space and echoed faintly off the walls. White river birds, startled off their perches on the roof, wheeled about the sky, calling out to each other in tones like low trumpets.

  “A great state needs more than wise administrators. A state needs men both brave and skilled in battle. In every age, the people are beset by enemies who bring war and death to the land, even to our capital itself. We give our leaders ranks in the army, but we can do more. It is written that in the days of the Fire Kingdom, the great heroes of the land were known by titles of honor. These titles told all the people that the men before them were not just officers in the military but men of worth, men raised up by heaven as examples to everyone of bravery, exemplars of justice. Today, I honor these men who have demonstrated their worth through years of service to their people, to their homeland, and to me.”

  Lord Vaina drew his sword; it flashed in the sunlight. Sandun could see sweat dripping down the lord’s face under his heavy hat of state.

  “General Pojo Erdis and General Esko Kun, step forward. I, the Ruler of Kunhalvar, Commander of Tokolas, the Duke of Divine Repose, name both of you rakeg, for you and for your family. Bear the title with honor.”

  Both men stepped forward, and Lord Vaina presented to each of them a heavy necklace of gold with a tiger medallion in the center. He then named the other generals to different titles that Sandun had never heard before.

  Turning now to the Keltens standing before him, Lord Vaina spoke in a quieter voice.

  “Rarely in our long history have foreigners come to Serica and found us so inhospitable as at present. Our nation is divided, this city, attacked. As the Lord of Kunhalvar, I suffer because I have been unable to uphold the duty a ruler of Serica owes to his guests. But you have overlooked my shortcomings. You have repaid our small welcome with mighty deeds. Never before have ambassadors from a distant nation done so much to help us in our hour of need.

  “It shall be recorded in the annals of our state and remembered from this time forward, that together we stood atop the lighthouse tower and rained destruction on the fleet of our enemies. Although the tower has crumbled, Tuno’s ships have been taken or fled. You men of Kelten—standing before me—are unbroken heroes. As the Ruler of Kunhalvar, as the Duke of Divine Repose, I now proclaim that you are each granted the title Opmi of Serica. Let it be known throughout my lands that Opmi of Serica are men of boundless courage, that they are men of honor, and that they are men of virtue.”

  He now signaled to Sir Ako to come forward.

  “I now appoint Sir Ako as Master of the Opmi of Serica.” Sir Ako knelt, and Lord Vaina hung around his neck a silver necklace with a palm-sized amulet, covered in gold and figured with the design of a flaming tower.

  Lord Vaina then called for Sandun, and Basil, and Kagne, and all the rest, ending with Wiyat. Each man was given a medallion, covered in silver, bearing the same image of the burning tower. One more necklace was brought forward and given to Sir Ako. “In memory of Opmi Gloval. His valor will never be challenged, his honor, never lessened.

  “Rise now, Opmi of Serica!”

  Sandun stood up and looked around. The light was somehow brighter, and it seemed as though the world was more clear and also that a nimbus of color lay behind the people standing around him. He shook hands with the other Keltens, calling them brothers. Waves of cheering broke out, and the soldiers in the square beat upon their shields with spears and swords. Sandun felt as though he had grown a foot, as though he were standing in great boots intended for a giant.

  Together, the men of the Archives Expedition turned and walked out of the palace grounds and into the city.

  Epilogue

  They had been drinking for hours. The dining room was filled with bowls of food and bottles of many shapes and colors. Despite the noise, little Niksol was sleeping in Olef’s arms, while she rested her head on Basil’s shoulder. The other women sat beside their men, smiling and laughing behind their hands.

  Sandun was talking freely with Sir Ako, his head filled with more than a dozen confused thoughts.

  “Did you hear that strange music they played during the ceremony?” Sir Ako said, and then shook his head as if to clear it. “Horns, drums, bells, things I’ve never seen before. All playing at the same time without rhythm or melody. I didn’t know what to make of it.”

  “It sounded old to me. Like music out of the past. What say you, Valo Peli? Had you heard such music before?”

  Valo Peli, his eyes notably bloodshot, clapped his hands together and told them, “It is very old music and yes, I’ve heard it before. Once. In Sasuvi, after I completed my studies and passed their test.”

  “Does anyone like it? What does it mean?”

  “I think a few people like it. In the days of the Water Kingdom, the writers described sages drinking tea and listening to refined music. That doesn’t happen often now.” He coughed and drank from his teacup. “As to what it means, that I can tell you.”

  Valo Peli proceeded to talk for five or ten minutes, using many words that none of his listeners understood. Stupefied by the alcohol and unwilling to interrupt the older man’s soliloquy, Sandun and Sir Ako just nodded their heads and drank. Finally, Valo Peli looked at the two men and the women sitting beside them and tilted his head. “Did that make any sense?” he asked quizzically.

  “You said it has to do with keeping the world in balance?” said Sandun.

  Russu Tuomi said, “Isn’t it about creating harmony in the hearts of the listeners?”

  Valo Peli shrugged. “I don’t really understand it, although I have memorized the Book of Ritual and the Book of Songs. The Kitrans who rule in Daka never play the music. They have ruled for nearly one hundred years, so perhaps it doesn’t matter.”

  Russu said proudly, “Back home, we play that music once a year. We haven’t abandoned the old traditions.”

  “Do you? Then I salute you. Rakeved grows in my estimation.” Valo Peli ra
ised his cup to Russu.

  Finally, Sandun’s thoughts crystallized on the question that he had pushed aside for the last forty-eight hours. “Valo Peli, who is Nilin Ulim, and why does he want you dead?”

  The Serice scholar gave a long sigh and put his hands into the large sleeves of his silken robe.

  “That is a topic unsuited for today’s happy celebration. But I will say this much: Nilin Ulim is a powerful and dangerous man. I could not ask for a deadlier enemy. Yesterday, I sent a messenger back to the land of my birth, asking for aid. Perhaps some of my clansmen will join me here. You Keltens have a reputation for seeking out challenges. In taking me on, you seem to have acquired more troubles than anyone could have guessed. Defeating Nilin Ulim is a true test and one that I would not have sought. Ah well, time enough for that in days to come.”

  Afterword

  Thanks for reading the book. I hope you enjoyed it.

  There is another book being written, titled The Lord of Shadows. It continues the stories of Sandun, Sir Ako, Basil, Kagne, Valo Peli, the Lord of Kunhalvar, and more. A third book, tentatively titled The Lake on Fire, is waiting out in the future, like a cloud.

  Personal Note

  As an historian, one of my great joys has been discovering unlikely events and subtle connections that had profound effects on the course of human history.

  But real history is messy. Important things happen, sometimes for no discernible reason or for reasons that are trivial compared to the monumental consequences. This book is not a history, but it takes place in a world much like our own with people, cultures, and stories that are similar to Earth’s.

  About me, I will say this: I am an American, and I have lived most of my life in California though I have travelled widely. I have been married, and I have three children. Professionally, I have held several jobs, including developing commercial software, technical writing, and teaching.