The Complete Season 1

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The Complete Season 1 Page 3

by Michael Underwood


  Michiko bowed low, with grace and precision. “I pledge my hand, my heart, my life to the empire.”

  Ojo stepped forward and caught Kris’s eye. “I am Ojo Kante, warder of Quloo. As Rumika is not yet a council nation, I volunteered to serve as proxy to welcome you to Twaa-Fei. May your visit be blessed with good health and glory for your people.”

  Kris’s eyes lit up. They clasped Ojo’s hand vigorously, and Ojo met the handshake in kind. “Warder Kante! Stories of your prowess have spread far and wide. I’m eager to see your two-sword style on display.”

  “There will be time for that, I’m sure. First, we should get you settled. If you don’t mind my company on the ride in, I thought it would be useful to tell you a bit more about how the warders do business. Since, with luck, you will be among our number before long.”

  Their eagerness was as clear as the morning sun. He’d made the right play.

  Yochno stepped back in. “We have prepared your accommodations during your visit, in the temporary quarters on the embassy grounds. If you’ll follow me to the carriage.” Yochno directed the attendants to handle the luggage.

  But Ojo had one more move prepared. “Warder Heike, if you would permit, I would love to show the new arrivals around the embassy.”

  Ojo had welcomed many junior diplomats in this way, giving him the latitude to extend that invitation even to an imperial candidate.

  But Kensuke bristled slightly. “Your gesture is appreciated, Warder Kante, but I imagine Michiko is tired after her journey. Perhaps another time.”

  Ojo watched the young bladecrafter’s response. Michiko did in fact look tired, but neither did she necessarily seem pleased to be omitted from the tour. It seemed he’d need to catch her away from Kensuke to be able to get a word in. Perhaps Kensuke was just relishing the chance to exert influence without being countermanded by Lavinia.

  Ojo settled into a diplomatic smile. “Certainly. Michiko, I hope we will have the chance to speak soon. Welcome, and may your time here be blessed with good health.”

  Michiko nodded respectfully, and Ojo took his leave, gesturing the way to Kris.

  Chapter 5

  Michiko

  The empire’s embassy grounds comprised an entire neighborhood on the top island of Twaa-Fei. It had five buildings: a central Mertikan building and four outliers. The first two were small annexes for the islands of Esh and Yuun, which had joined the empire long ago. The others were for the newer colonies, Kakute and Ikaro.

  A porter carried bags to the Kakute annex, but the carriage proceeded directly to the main building.

  “Warder Lavinia requested your presence immediately,” Kensuke said. “She does not take well to waiting. Or being questioned. Or much of anything save swift and sure obedience. Serve her well and you will have good life here.”

  “Serve the empire, you mean.”

  “On Twaa-Fei, they are one and the same. She is in regular, direct contact with the empress. Lavinia is the empress’s hand here, and we are her arsenal. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Warder.”

  “A good start.”

  An attendant greeted them and led the pair through the grand foyer of the embassy, bedecked with banners, scrolls of commendations, and trophies of war. Michiko could have stood for hours marveling at the glory reflected by such a display, but instead they turned through double doors and were met by an imperious woman in the uniform of a Mertikan captain.

  Lavinia Junius was in all ways impressive. A living legend, Lavinia stood over six feet tall, her sandy-blond hair short in a soldier’s cut. She had weatherworn fair skin, sharp features, and piercing purple eyes that locked on to Michiko like a hawk to prey. She wore stylized leather armor that suggested her history as a ship captain, her shoulders decorated with her many medals from the empress.

  Standing to her side was a younger Mertikan woman, perhaps Michiko’s age. Halfway between Michiko’s short stature and Lavinia’s towering form, this woman had a beautiful rounded face and warm amber skin. Like Lavinia, her hair was military-short, the latest court fashion. This would be Bellona Avitus, the junior Mertikan warder.

  The third was a thin man with slightly ink-stained fingers. He had bronze skin, a big nose, and a stubble-growth beard. His dark hair was tied back in a simple tail-knot. He bore the sword of a warder, but he did not fit Michiko’s image of one. Where Lavinia and Kensuke both carried themselves with import and confidence, this man, who must be Ueda no Takeshi, looked like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world than standing with his colleagues.

  “This must be little Michiko,” Lavinia said. “I’ve heard very good things about you. The empress is pleased to have you here to do your best on behalf of your colony.” Lavinia glanced briefly to Kensuke, her face moving through a scowl and then back to a resolute neutral. “A strong imperial block in the embassy requires that Kakute and Ikaro pull their weight in negotiations and in the dueling arena.”

  Which meant that Kensuke wasn’t pulling his weight in some way. If Lavinia was pleased to have Michiko there, did that mean she wanted to have Kensuke replaced? Was Michiko to take the mantle of warder soon? Immediately? She’d expected several years in the junior position, building relationships and honing her skills.

  They all served the empire to the best of their ability. That was the Mertikan way. Excellence in service for the glory of the empire and to ensure a better life to come. Michiko could not help but be excited.

  Could I be Senior Warder by year’s end? she wondered. Her heart soared at the possibility, but she reined it back as Bellona added, “I’m sure you’ll do very well. Won’t she, Lavinia? For a Kakutan, of course. Your people have taken steps toward a brighter tomorrow, but still have much to learn about true strength and unity. I visited Kakute last year on the way from Mertika to Twaa-Fei here to take up my post. Your people’s music and dance are so charming. I like to think that it’s like what Mertikan music might have sounded like hundreds of years ago.”

  “Our strength is your strength,” Michiko offered tentatively.

  “And we will have use for that strength very soon. The prison containing the Golden Lord was attacked. He has violated his oath of surrender and escaped captivity. He may be on Twaa-Fei this very minute, maneuvering for a plea of asylum.”

  The Golden Lord. Michiko restrained a snarl of hatred and a flush of embarrassment. Golden Lord Nobu was a bloodthirsty warlord, last in the line that had ruled Kakute by strength of arms. For generations, they’d waged war upon their own people, family against family. Her ancestors spoke of the endless feuds, the constant strain of castle sieges, bloodied fields, and levied troops.

  When Mertika offered Kakute freedom from the cycle of civil war and vengeance, the Golden Lord refused, waging a doomed campaign against Kakute to keep his stranglehold on the people.

  Michiko stood tall and placed one hand on the pommel of her own blade. “We will find him and bring him to the empress’s justice, Warder.”

  “Well said, child. First we will announce the Golden Lord’s betrayal to the council and head off any warders who might seek to undermine the empire by offering him succor. Clean up and report to your colony’s chambers in the council immediately.”

  Michiko bowed, then stood with a start as Kensuke was already on his way out the door. She looked back to Lavinia, uncertain. Lavinia had already dismissed the others, so Michiko turned and followed Kensuke, eager not to be late.

  Chapter 6

  Ojo

  Ojo had just received a parcel of sticky buns containing a hastily written note from Shun when Lavinia called an emergency meeting.

  Seeing Shun’s confirmation of the Golden Lord’s presence on Twaa-Fei, Ojo knew the meeting could only be for one reason.

  He dashed off a response asking Shun to do everything within their power to keep the Golden Lord out of sight until Ojo could secure a ship. That would be difficult. The Quloo fleet was stretched thin to the point of breaking, running goods to try to make up fo
r the lack of aerstone production and holding the perimeter around Quloo, on the edge of a shooting war with Mertika.

  But for the Golden Lord, he would find a way.

  Ojo made a habit to be early to council meetings, to see the movements of the other warders and their staff. Just as one could learn much about an opponent by observing them before the blades were drawn, the temperament and movements of his fellow diplomats spoke volumes about their intentions.

  The grand chamber of the Warders’ Circle was a richly appointed circular room. Stadium seating filled three-quarters of the Circle, all facing the hallway to the lift. Each council nation had a box of seats on the innermost layer, the outer layers a sloping inclined section for the public. At the center of the room was a raised platform the warders spoke from during public session. The platform also housed the Altar of Challenge, an ancient table of an unidentifiable white pearlescent stone.

  Taro, Tsukisen’s warder, was already seated at his box’s desk when Ojo arrived.

  From his box, Ojo scribbled a quick note and sent a runner to deliver it to Kris, inviting them to the meeting.

  Penelope arrived with her junior, Cassia, in tow, but did not stop to chat. Cassia carried an armful of scrolls and reports, laying them out at Penelope’s table as the towering women took their places.

  The Mertikans came in as a group. Lavinia at the head, the others trailing behind. The fire in her eyes all but confirmed Ojo’s suspicion of the reason for the meeting.

  Kris entered from the wrong side of the room and rushed around the Circle to meet the correct steps to the guest section one tier up from the warders’ boxes.

  The others arrived in a flurry that soon gave way to Yochno calling the meeting to order. His voice filled the chambers, resonant and neutral without being lifeless. “Warder Junius of Mertika called this meeting, so the floor is hers.”

  Lavinia strode out from her box, turning as she spoke to address the entire room. She stalked the room as if it were a battlefield, seizing the ground to defend it against all comers.

  “Honored colleagues and distinguished guests, it is with great disappointment that I inform you that the Golden Lord of Kakute has violated the spirit and letter of his unconditional surrender and escaped from his imprisonment, killing several loyal Mertikan soldiers along the way. We have reason to believe that he may be on Twaa-Fei even now, seeking asylum despite the terms of his surrender specifically waiving that right. I call upon all of you as honorable warders invested in the weight of treaties and agreements to assist the empire in finding the Golden Lord so that he may be returned to imperial custody. Any assistance in this matter will be remembered by the empire.”

  She paused, a fiendish smile blooming. “And any who interfere, or offer him sanctuary . . . will regret it.”

  This was Lavinia’s way. No compromises, no room for negotiation or discussion. Her proposals were to be taken as absolute proclamations, as if she were the mouth of the empress herself and all were her subjects.

  Mertika might one day rule over all nations of the sky, but this was not that day.

  Ojo stood. “With all due respect, Warder Junius, the council here was founded on the expressed agreement that Twaa-Fei’s neutrality would be respected. And Twaa-Fei has long been a place where refugees and others could find a home. There is a raft of precedent. . . .”

  Other warders pounded their desks in agreement.

  Lavinia cut them all off, still speaking from the platform. “You would know, Ojo, given that your people made a great many refugees when they cut Zenatai from the sky. Twaa-Fei cleaned up after your people’s excesses there, and now you approve of its neutrality when it serves to undermine the empire?”

  Ojo flinched at the mention of Zenatai, but forged ahead, stepping up to the stage. He spoke to the crowd, not the Mertikan. “That’s a preposterous comparison. We’re talking about asylum, protected in the laws of Twaa-Fei.”

  “The terms of the Golden Lord’s surrender waived his rights. All of them.” She cut a hand through the air like a knife. “His life is the empire’s.”

  Penelope stood to join the fray, her voice filling the room easily. Ojo sighed in relief, grateful for her steady presence. “This argument is pointless until the Golden Lord is found. Mertika cannot exert their claim until the fugitive is captured. You’re wasting our time with this grandstanding, Lavinia.”

  Lavinia stepped toward Penelope, almost but not quite the beginning of a charge. “Upholding the sanctity of our oaths and agreements is hardly grandstanding. You along with all of the other warders here know how seriously Mertika takes its oaths.”

  To that, there was no objection. Lavinia was a cold, calculating bully, but she lived by her word.

  “Warder Kyrkos is right,” Ojo said. “Without the prisoner in hand, the point is moot. Unless you have other business, I move to close this session.”

  “Seconded,” said Taro.

  Yochno took up the motion. “Motion has been raised to close the session. All in favor.”

  The vote split three to three, the imperial bloc of Lavinia, Takeshi, and Kensuke keeping the meeting open.

  But without a majority to support her claim, Lavinia’s gambit was stalled.

  Lavinia leveled a malevolent glare at Ojo. He met those eyes that burned cold with rage, and did not look away. She snarled, turning to Taro, then Penelope. They did not yield. Lavinia stepped from the platform, saying, “Then I shall bring him to you myself. This is not over.”

  But that meant she did not already have the Golden Lord. There was still time to spirit him away.

  As the warders dispersed, Ojo climbed to the gallery to greet Kris. Their arms were crossed, scanning the room.

  “So what did you think of your first council meeting?” Ojo asked.

  “Are they always that contentious?”

  Ojo waved his head back and forth. “Often, but not always. Most days they proceed very calmly, confirmation of trade agreements, rehashing old grudges without much vigor, but some days . . . Some you remember. I think before the week is done, we’ll have one such day.”

  “Is the law on her side?” Kris asked.

  “Mertikan law maybe, but whether that overrides Twaa-Fei law? That Warder Junius can argue, but by default, we honor Twaa-Fei law here. It was a condition of forming the Warders’ Circle. And if she cannot capture the Golden Lord, she’ll have an even harder time. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some pressing matters to attend to.”

  Ojo began to walk back toward his office.

  “Are you going after him?” Kris asked.

  “I am afraid I am not at liberty to say, my young friend. But your pass admits you to council meetings for the rest of the week, so you may be able to see the results for yourself.”

  Chapter 7

  Michiko

  Lavinia had the imperial warders arm and armor to meet her at the gates of the embassy immediately after the meeting. Michiko would search the middle island with Lavinia.

  Takeshi and Bellona led a squadron searching the lowest level of Twaa-Fei, while Kensuke oversaw what Michiko imagined would be a more cursory search on the highest island. If the Golden Lord had found refuge on the top island already, he was well supported by sympathizers. Their search was meant to find him before he could make such allies.

  Watching Lavinia work up close was like walking into the sunset. Soon enough, you learned to keep your head down and make sure you didn’t trip.

  Under Lavinia’s leadership, the group interrogated merchant lords, scoured open-air plazas, overturned canvas tarps in countless warehouses, and covered what felt like every scrap of the middle island.

  By mid-evening, the soldiers were beginning to fade. Michiko kept going thanks to the third casting of Enduring Mountain, but every repetition yielded diminishing results.

  But Lavinia was relentless. Michiko drafted behind Lavinia’s passion like a smaller ship in the wake of a larger to keep speed, helping her stay sharp, to take in the city wi
th clear eyes.

  It was hard to see things out of place when you were new to a city, but her freshness also meant that she saw the city much more the way the Golden Lord would—as a visitor, a stranger.

  So when she saw a nervous man in a threadbare cloak on the lowest (and therefore coldest) island check both ways both before and after turning into an alley, she noticed. Rather than signaling the others, she followed on her own to make sure. Lavinia valued thoroughness, but above all else, she would value results over effort.

  Michiko followed while the man did not look, hiding behind a stall. She drew her sword and cast Faceless Bystander to make her fit in to her surroundings. The man knocked twice slowly, then three times fast. Then he uttered some words, and there was the sound of something heavy sliding, presumably a door of some sort. Michiko waited, then peeked around the corner. She saw a heavy stone slab settling into place, almost indistinguishable from the walls around it.

  She waved over the soldiers, who brought Lavinia in tow.

  “What have you found?” she asked.

  Michiko relayed what she’d seen, and Lavinia’s face lit up with the thrill of the chase. “It’s him. I can feel it. On me!”

  Lavinia led the group down the alleyway to the slab. Michiko stepped forward to repeat the knock, but Lavinia pulled her back. “I’ll handle this. Line up, two columns, prepare to charge.” Soldiers set their formation and Michiko watched, blade ready, as Lavinia formed Sloughing, a sigil that would turn the stone into water.

  The sigil snapped into place, but instead of melt, the stone exploded.

  Michiko flew back, hitting hard against the alley wall. There was shouting, smoke, and the flash of sigils. Only three of the six soldiers got to their feet, but Lavinia was already through the breech, her blade flashing. Michiko dashed afterward, carving Falcon’s Sight to see through the smoke. Once the sigil activated, she saw the battle unfold in the small building.

 

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