The Flame Iris Temple

by Colin Glassey

  Ako roared out his approval. He could tell from the smell that these fireworks were created with lopor. He had seen Valo Peli use lopor bombs against enemies but seeing the sparks and explosions at night was a totally different experience. He had never imagined such wonder, and it filled him with delight. He bent down to kiss his wife, and she hugged him, saying something in her own language.

  Drums sounded out, and lanterns were uncovered across the marketplace. The Keltens made their way into the crowd as people danced around them, some banging on metal pots and shouting, “The Year of the Turtle!”, “The New Year has come!”, “The water turtle!”, and so on.

  Back home at the embassy, Ako’s mood darkened; there was still no news from the Seven Stars Temple. He noticed that Sandun seemed somewhat amused by Wiyat’s enthusiastic reporting on the fireworks, as though Sandun had seen wonders far more impressive than fireworks at night.

  Just before midnight, Lathe came in, dejected and weary. “I lost him,” Lathe admitted. “The criminal went to see the fireworks display in the east market, and I lost him. Too many people, not enough light, but no more excuses, it’s my fault. Hikki has gone to report my failure to my…to the war minister. I couldn’t face him.”

  Ako tried to comfort his newest knight. “We were there also, Sir Lathe, watching the fireworks from the circus stands. There must have been more than ten thousand people who came to see the show. In the darkness, no one could have followed a stranger in that crowd. Not even if you had tied a string to his ear.”

  “I should have beaten him over the head and taken him to the war minister’s mansion for questioning, but I hesitated because I suspected other gang members were there as well. The man I followed from the Seven Stars stopped to talk briefly to another man, a villainous-looking fellow. I instantly had a bad feeling about their meeting.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me if half the gang were out watching the fireworks. They were spectacular,” Ako said.

  “Hikki was following me, and by the time I got his attention, it was too late for him to follow the other man. It’s entirely my fault.” Lathe sat with his head in his hands and barely replied to other questions.

  Hikki showed up half an hour later with somewhat hopeful news. “I found an old wooden flute on the doorstep of the war minister’s estate. When I brought it inside, Minister Boethy found a ransom note concealed within the flute. The note demanded 1,500 silver cats for Alina’s safe return. At the bottom of the cheap paper were three words in a distinctive writing: ‘Alina Boethy lives.’ The minister is certain his daughter wrote those words.”

  Sir Ako brightened up immediately. “That’s good news. The kidnappers are feeling more confident. At least two went to see the fireworks, and they likely left the ransom note after the show. They aren’t going to try and smuggle her out of town—instead, they want money, just as the priests expected.”

  “Well, that demand is absurd,” Lathe said to Hikki angrily. “My former master doesn’t have that sort of wealth. How can he raise that much without letting everyone know what happened to his daughter?”

  “I am sure he won’t have to,” Hikki said calmly. “I expect the Seven Stars, like the temples of Eston, will be closed tomorrow. However, I’m betting the kidnappers will be back the day after, when it reopens, to pray for success. We will get them.”

  Sir Ako agreed with Hikki’s assessment.

  Russu also thought this was favorable news. “The ransom note is good. Alina’s writing on it—even better. So strange to think that at least two of Alina’s kidnappers were watching the fireworks with us. They were so beautiful, and yet such evil people were watching, and instead of going back and setting her free, they put a ransom note on her father’s doorstep. Are they humans or demons in the shape of men?”

  Hikki, warming his hands beside the fire, said, “If they are demons, they must be out of the north. It’s bitterly cold right now. I think it is starting to snow.”

  Russu ran out into the courtyard and held her hands up into air. “By the…I mean, Sho’Ash blesses us. I can’t believe it! Snow is coming out of the sky! Just like in the stories. Snow! Real snow. Snow, for the New Year. This must be a good omen. This coming year will be a lucky one for all of us.”

  Ako smiled at her. The snowfall was lovely.

  Eventually, the cold and the lateness of the hour drove Russu back inside and then into their bed, where she held tightly to Sir Ako before falling asleep.

  The morning revealed a winter landscape of white snow, occasionally brilliant as the sun shone through patches of clouds. The knights played like children in the snowy courtyard, throwing snowballs at each other. Inside, Russu distributed gifts of New Year’s silver to the servants and the gate guards. That task done, she came outside, wearing three layers of clothing, and attempted to make snowballs with a distinct lack of success.

  Ako laughed at her as she attempted to throw one poorly packed handful of snow and ended up covering her face and hair with a cloud of snowflakes. After she shook the snow off, she demanded Ako show her how to make a snowball. Armed with a good one, she threw wildly and completely missed her target of Sir Damar. He lobbed a snowball back at her, and she barely managed to deflect it using both hands.

  “Blue heaven! My fingers are freezing!” she said, showing Ako her pink hands. “I had no idea snow was so cold. I’m going to sit in front of the fire.”

  As Russu went inside, Miri and Sandun came out. Miri had gloves on, and she proved to be an expert snowball thrower. “It snows every year in Birumaz,” she explained after Ako commented on her skill. “My younger brother and I had an alliance with our neighbors, and we waged war against our cousins and their friends down the street every year. When I turned sixteen, my mother told me I was too old to play such games, but I went out the next year also. Who can resist fresh snow?”

  Sandun asked Hikki how often it snowed in Tokolas.

  “Most years, not last year but the year before,” the young squire replied. “Usually no deeper than this, about a finger’s length, but some years a hand’s depth or more, enough to block the streets. Street sweepers earn their pay on such days.”

  Later, as they sat around the fire drinking hot tea, Sandun showed off a book of drawings to Sir Ako. “Miri gave me this as a New Year’s gift. Her father made it.”

  Ako looked at the book, whose illustrations consisted of extremely detailed drawings of how to build a boat, a warship judging from the design. Eight oars on a side, with a most unusual solid roof. The text was written in Serice, but aside from a few words, he couldn’t read it.

  “Are you planning on starting your own navy?” Ako jested.

  Miri told him, “My father worked nearly all his life in the office of the Birumaz Navy. Naturally, House Kirdar is responsible for defending our portion of the coast of Shila, and with the increasing number of attacks by pirates from Budin, he believed that a new warship was needed. He spent years developing models, testing them in ponds and then rivers. After he was sent north, friends of his in the navy built two full-size models, and they tested out. This book of design plans was his gift to my future husband.”

  Ako understood what she meant. Sandun had told him that Lady Miri was sent to Tokolas to marry Lord Vaina, but he had rejected her offer, apparently because he already had one wife from Shila in addition to his three Serice wives. Ako said, “I suppose you could give this to Lord Vaina. Sho’Ash knows the majority of Kunhalvar’s fleet consists of merchant ships and fishing boats. Most of the real warships are the ones we captured from Vasvar.”

  Sandun nodded. “My thoughts exactly. Miri said her father would be very happy if his boats helped Kunhalvar take control of the Mur.”

  After eating a late breakfast and drinking more of Russu’s herbal medicine, Ako felt bored and restless. With just a sneaking suspicion in his mind, he decided to pay a visit to the Seven Stars Temple. Instead of go
ing alone, he took Lathe and Hikki with him. “You know two of the gang members by sight,” he said to Lathe. “I doubt anyone will recognize us, as we will be dressed against the snow. My thinking is: What do the kidnappers have to do today? With a kidnapped girl on their hands, they cannot leave her to visit family in Tokolas. But perhaps they will visit the temple?”

  Lathe agreed eagerly, while Hikki expected little and said, “I will accompany you, but I have to visit my family for dinner. Lord Vaina’s invitation to the palace was for the knights, not us squires.”

  As they approached the Seven Stars Temple, Lathe halted them with a quiet cough. “I see him! The second man from last night. He is walking out of the gate; he seems alone.”

  Hikki calmly surveyed the few people standing outside the temple gate and then turned away. Ako felt a surge of excitement course through his veins, but he suppressed his emotion and simply followed Hikki down a side street.

  “Same plan as yesterday, but this time, our target is leaving a trail even a mole could follow,” Sir Ako said forcefully. “Lathe tails the kidnapper, and Hikki keeps Lathe in view. I’m for the embassy to get the others ready. Also, I’ll send word to Valo Peli. When this bastard goes into a house, you let us know, and we will go in after him!”

  “You were right to come here, Lord Commander,” Lathe said. “This time, I shall not fail. No crowds for the criminal to hide in today.”

  Hikki said in parting, “I was wrong the Seven Stars being closed today. I guess I don’t know as much as I thought I did about Kulkasen temples. If you could bring my longsword, Lord Commander, I’d be grateful. I only have a short sword and a knife on me.”

  Ako wished the two men success and then hurried back to the embassy, praying to Sho’Ash: Grant us the favor of bringing your divine justice to the world this day!

  Once at the embassy, he brought all the knights together and explained the situation. Russu wrote a quick note and ordered one of the gate guards to bring it to Valo Peli’s estate. Miri came over with Jay and Ven at her side. “We are with you,” Jay said. Sandun came downstairs with his sword and bow, looking like he had something on the tip of his tongue, but he stayed silent.

  Ako and most of the other knights put on cuirasses, helms, vambraces, gauntlets, and small shields. Basil and Farrel just took their bows. Olef put some spare clothing into her old pack. “Alina will need something clean to wear,” she explained.

  Their gate guard returned at a dead run; he carried an official document that Russu examined. “This says you have the authorization of the arch-governor to take all measures necessary to eliminate criminal gangs operating in Tokolas.” She looked up at her husband and said, “You told me that knights fight evildoers in Kelten and carry out the king’s justice. Well, you now have that authority inside this city.”

  “It also means that Lord Vaina knows about the kidnapping,” Sir Ako said.

  “He does,” Sandun told them. “But all that is being said is that some senior official’s daughter has been abducted. When we rescue Alina, we are to take her to the palace. Valo Peli will come and collect her later.”

  Hikki came into the courtyard, panting hard. “We followed him…to a house. He didn’t come out again…I asked around, saying I was looking for a place to gamble, using my best low-class Tokolas accent. I was told that building used to be a such a place, but no longer.”

  “Let’s go!” Ako said commandingly. He handed Hikki his sword. “I want you to stay out on the street with Jay and Ven to watch for any escapees. In Kelten, criminals often hole up in buildings with hidden exits.”

  “I’ve heard that as well,” Hikki replied sagely.

  Walking briskly with Hikki in the lead, the knights threaded their way through the streets of Tokolas. There were quite a few children outside, playing in the fast melting snow, and some families, dressed in their finest, off to visit friends or relatives. The women, following their husbands, carried steaming boxes tied up with silk. People stared at the knights; a few greeted them politely.

  They passed by the Seven Stars Temple, and while Sir Ako contemplated sending word to Frostel, he decided there was no time. Thus, he was surprised to see Frostel running up behind them. “Welcome, Frostel, did you see us as we went past the temple?” Ako asked.

  “I did, and I had warning. The old priest has many eyes and ears out on the streets. Your disciple, Hikki, was spotted running to the Kelten embassy. I thought this foretold something important was afoot.”

  “The word we use is squire, a man in training to be a knight,” Ako said conversationally. In a low voice, he continued, “We think we have found something. If you had a house for gambling, and now it was being used for something else, what would be your secret entrance?”

  “You are asking the wrong man,” Frostel replied evenly. “I don’t associate with criminals, and I don’t gamble. It is forbidden by the code laid down by my ancestors. Most Serice soldiers say that death in battle is entirely a matter of chance, so they gamble as a way to test their luck. In the Rulon Mors, we reject this belief. Instead, we say that a trained man—one who has thought through all eventualities—is the one who will survive nine out of ten battles. What is your plan?”

  Sir Ako explained as Hikki slowed down the pace.

  “Your plan is sound, but I suggest leaving Basil and his woman with Hikki and the two Rutal-lil on the street. Sir Farrel as the lone archer inside the building should be more than enough. There will be seven going in, and five ready on the outside.”

  Ako agreed.

  Hikki halted, and Lathe materialized out of a heap of rags beside a doorway. “There is the house,” Lathe said, pointing at a normal-looking, single-story house. “A man went in not half an hour ago, carrying a pot that smelled of cooked rice.”

  Everyone drew their weapons and waited anxiously for Sir Ako’s command. With his heart pounding and his muscles hot under his armor, Ako felt the old battle rage come up to him, eager to be unleashed. When he was younger, he found it hard to control his fury, and there had been times, in practice and once in a tournament, when he had lost his mind to the battle lust. But now, it was like an old friend, and it obeyed him even as it delighted in maiming and killing. “If Alina is not inside, then at least one of the criminals needs to live. Otherwise—no survivors.”

  His knights nodded, and Sir Ako strode over to the door and pushed it open, revealing a dark hallway. He had expected something like this. He kept going until he reached the second door, and the others filed in behind him. Ako whispered to Farrel in the rear, “Shut the door,” and it closed, leaving the hallway as dark as the inside of a cat. On the other side of the hallway, there were noises. They had been heard, naturally.

  He started knocking on the inner door. A soft tapping, with his gauntleted hand. The sounds on the other side of the door faded away.

  “Who’s there?” came a gruff voice.

  Sir Ako smiled to himself and continued his tapping on the door.

  “Who are you? Go away!”

  Ako halted for ten seconds. The dark hallway stank of old wine and piss. He began knocking again on the door. Tap. Tap. Tap.

  “By Hesmoro, you’ve come to the wrong place. If you don’t leave now, I’ll make you wish you had never gotten out of bed on the New Year!”

  Again, Ako paused and waited, even longer this time, before starting up a bit harder now. Insistent. Tap. Tap. Tap.

  “That it!” shouted the voice on the other side. “You’ll get what’s coming to you!” There was a grating sound, that of a heavy wooden beam pulled aside. Ako had guessed rightly: the inner door was barred. But now the rats were coming out to meet the saber cat. He tensed his muscles, ready to spring.

  The door opened slightly, and he roared as he shoved the door wide open and leapt into the room with his shield in front of him.

  Sir Ako took in the room at a glance: it was a large
room, dimly light by three oil lamps and a coal-burning stove with its metal grate open. A ray of sunlight poked through the thatched roof around the stovepipe. The windows were all shuttered, several doors were closed. He counted five men, all with weapons in their hands, two by a table with food on it, one by a wooden cage in the middle of the space, one man had jumped away from the door and was now rising from one knee. The last man, a big, fat-faced individual with a green belt, was closest to Ako and swinging a large club at his head.

  Sir Ako ducked under the club’s blow and ran to the table, heaving it over onto its side with a great crash of cups and plates. The men who had been eating paid more attention to the spilled food than to Ako, and he made them pay dearly for this, the last mistake of their lives. With several hard, vicious strokes, both men were killed.

  Turning back, he heard the unmistakable sound of a Kelten bow twang and saw the man by the cage clutching his face as he spun around and slammed into the cage, then collapsed onto the floor.

  “Search the room!” Ako ordered Padan and Wiyat.

  “I’m right here,” a woman’s voice came from inside the cage. “Lathe Ruppe, I’m surprised it took you so long to find me.”

  Lathe was already fiddling with the metal clasp on the top of the cage, trying to get it open.