Storm Phase Series: Books 1-3

by Hayden, David Alastair

  Lu Bei changed the subject. “So next we set sail, master? Through the reefs?”

  The entire island of Okoro was surrounded by jutting rocks and reefs that extended out for over a hundred miles. Most sailors had never seen the open ocean that lay beyond the reefs. Ancient zaboko tales told of a time when the continent was many times larger, until earthquakes sank all the land except for what at that time was the central highland region. Many of the small, rocky outer islands and jutting rock formations were said to be former mountain peaks.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “I don’t like the reefs. We barely made it through the first time. You said I should get to shore if possible, so someone might find the book someday.”

  “Lu Bei. You have to stop referring to me as if I’m Chonda Lu. I’m not. I’m not. I’m not. I just have his stone.”

  Lu Bei pointed at the stone. “But master, you—”

  Turesobei woke up with Lu Bei patting him on the head.

  “You all right, master?”

  “I passed out again, didn’t I?”

  “Yes, master. There are things I cannot tell you. If I do you pass out.”

  Turesobei sighed as he sat up. “Let’s not talk about them then, okay?”

  “I will try, master. I will try. But it is very frustrating for me.”

  “So, what were we talking about?”

  “You were telling me that we must sail through the reefs. And I told you Chonda Lu didn’t think we would make it.”

  “Oh, right. I remember that part now. I’m a bit worried.”

  “We’ll be fine, master.”

  “But I’ve never sailed before.”

  “Actually, master, you used to….”

  “Yes?” Turesobei asked, his eyes narrowing.

  “Er, I think you’ll get used to it quickly, master.”

  * * *

  When they finally left for the ship, Turesobei was wearing light armor: a breastplate and a helmet of green enameled leather along with padded sleeves and pants. As they traveled, he kept his hand close to Sumada since his father had warned him of potential danger. He had practiced with the blade daily and kept it polished religiously. As they went, he scanned the predawn streets with his kenja-sight but detected nothing unusual. He felt important, knowing that he could see dangers that no one else in their party could.

  Even this early, people bustled along the city streets. Most headed in the same direction as they did, toward the docks, warehouses, and fisheries. Some were servants out on errands. Most were merchants opening their stalls along the edge of the streets. Several covered rickshaws rolled past, pulled by teenage zaboko boys with their skin tanned a dark grey. He imagined that beautiful princesses lurked within the veiled rickshaws and peered out at him with interest. But he knew the truth was likely far different, that these were probably aging baojendari bureaucrats on the way to their posts.

  After presenting their passes, they passed through a well-guarded gate and entered the foul-smelling East Dock Ward. Here they no longer saw baojendari merchants with their expensive wares, accompanied by their zaboko laborers. Instead they saw zaboko beggars and prostitutes, sailors off duty, fishermen hauling in their catches, and a few well-dressed and armed baojendari who were obviously in charge. The streets were lined with brothels, wine-houses, and tall apartment buildings crammed with residents. The impoverished zaboko of the Dock Ward could leave it only if they had a pass allowing entry to another ward. Most of them did not and would be stuck here all their lives.

  Turesobei found it hard not to feel guilty that he was born into the highest caste of Batsakun and had privileges most zaboko couldn’t even dream of. Though it was obviously not his fault, he felt the heavy burden of it. That the Chonda treated the zaboko in their province as indentured peasants, while most other clans treated them as little more than slaves, did not make him feel much better about it.

  As he was thinking of injustices and the history of the invasion, a sudden prick in his mind alerted him to danger. It was not unusual for him to get these, but it was not a reliable gift either. He glanced down the street to his right and spotted a group of riders racing toward them: a dozen zaboko warriors led by five baojendari.

  They charged straight toward Turesobei, who was stuck in the middle of the formation.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Noboro wheeled his mount around, and the rest of his party followed. But before Noboro or any of the guards could move to shield Turesobei, the oncoming riders intercepted them.

  “Chonda Noboro!” shouted the bulky baojendari riding in the front. He was a middle-aged man, like Turesobei’s father, only with a stubby nose and a long, curling mustache.

  Chonda swords were drawn.

  The enemy reached for their hilts, but their leader held out his hand. In it was a thin wooden rod about three feet long.

  “Steady, men,” the man ordered. “Let’s not take their blood unless we must. Easy though it might be.”

  Turesobei noticed then that golden maple leaves decorated the soldiers’ shields and hauberks. A prominent one adorned the front of their leader’s lacquered helmet.

  The Gawo!

  The leader’s insignia marked him as a first-order knight, but Turesobei didn’t know which one. He knew the names of most of the Gawo nobles, but he had seen very few of them, and then only in fleeting glimpses. No one considered it worthwhile to get a High Wizard started early on diplomacy.

  “Sheathe your arms,” Noboro ordered, and the Chonda obeyed, though some did so reluctantly. Turesobei had never thought to draw his blade. So much for his combat training.

  The man eased his mount up beside Turesobei. Then he tapped his baton against Turesobei’s breastplate, deliberately nudging the amber kavaru which he had unwisely left hanging outside his armor. Turesobei dropped his hand to the hilt of his sword and narrowed his eyes. It was an affront to touch a wizard’s kavaru.

  “Get away from him,” said Noboro as he advanced through the gathered men to ride up to Turesobei’s side.

  “Or what?”

  “By the gods, Jimusha, I would love an excuse to send your head to King Gawo in a basket.”

  “You would risk open warfare over me antagonizing your son a bit?”

  “Yes, I would.”

  “You’ve no sense of humor,” Jimusha said with a wry grin. He turned back to Turesobei, looking him over with a disapproving gaze. “He’s not much to look at, is he? I doubt he has anything close to Lord Haisero’s skill at magic.”

  Haisero was the counterpart to Turesobei, the High Wizard in Waiting for the Gawo. Turesobei had never seen him, but he was reputed to be very talented.

  “Your nephew must be an impressive lad indeed, because I assure you Turesobei will be every bit the wizard his twice-great grandfather Denojei was.”

  This caused a lot of dark looks and sneers amongst the Gawo, for Turesobei’s great-great-grandfather had led the Chonda to victory against their rivals when the Gawo were at the height of their power. Now that the balance was shifting back to the Gawo, they didn’t wish to hear any such thing. For his part, Turesobei couldn’t imagine achieving half of what his ancestor had accomplished.

  “Pity Lord Haisero’s not with us,” said Jimusha, “or we could see a wizards’ duel. You could prove your claim.” Some of the Gawo party looked uneasy when he said this.

  “According to our spies,” Noboro replied, “your nephew is missing.”

  “Your spies,” Jimusha snarled, “whoever they may be, know nothing. Haisero is away studying in retreat. He’s learning advanced subjects you could never fathom.”

  “Alas, I’m sure I could not. Or else I would be the next High Wizard of the Chonda. Turesobei could master them easily, though, I’m certain.”

  “One day we shall see, Noboro. Perhaps on the day you and I draw swords against each other.”

  “May the day come soon. In the meantime, I will settle for killing the spies you keep sending after me.”

&
nbsp; “I have sent no spies to watch you,” replied Jimusha with what appeared to be a genuinely surprised look on his face. “I have no interest in your expeditions. Never have.”

  “Well, the man trailing me last week was without doubt a Gawo. Maybe, Spymaster, you should keep better tabs on what your clan is up to.”

  The Gawo knight bristled but seemed suddenly distracted. “You should watch yourself, Noboro,” he threatened, but without passion. “The world is dangerous, especially for a Chonda.”

  Jimusha wheeled his mount around and rode casually away, his guards following behind him. The Chonda watched them go, and when they were out of sight, Noboro leaned in close to Fodoru and whispered.

  “Send word back to King Ugara. Tell him our spies are correct. Haisero is indeed missing.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Their ship, the Little Goddess, was a swift, medium-sized junk built for light shipping and rich passengers. It was just big enough to hold their soldiers, supplies, and mounts. After Turesobei stowed his gear in a passenger compartment the size of his bedroom closet at home, he joined his father on the deck and met the ship's captain, who was a free zaboko from the nation of Zangaiden. Tedeko wasn't what he expected. He wasn't old, fat, one-eyed, or grizzled at all. Instead, he was young, sharply dressed, and quite thin for a zaboko.

  Captain Tedeko greeted him warmly and told him a boring story about how he had come to be owner and captain of the ship after saving a baojendari noble from drowning. The story should have been interesting, but Tedeko had no gift for storytelling and was quite monotone. Tedeko had good reason to be proud, though. Turesobei knew little about ships, but he knew this was a fine junk. Few zaboko commanded vessels, much less expensive ones such as this.

  As soon as all the expedition’s denekon and gear were loaded, the crew maneuvered the Little Goddess out into the harbor. Then Tedeko barked out orders and the zaboko crew raised the sails with a series of hand cranks. The ship eased out to the sea and within an hour caught a good northerly wind that rushed them along the coast. They kept sight of land and were wary of reefs and shoals, despite the ship's low draft.

  Turesobei saw waves breaking against many reefs closer into shore and some farther out, but they didn't come close to any. Occasionally, he spotted rocks jutting ten or twenty feet out of the sea, but they steered far away from those since other rocks often lay nearby, hidden just below the surface.

  Turesobei did quickly get used to sailing, as Lu Bei had predicted. So fast that he almost didn’t notice that he was on the water, even when the boat was rocked by big waves. This impressed his father and many of the soldiers with them. Two of them, who had had no experience at sea, spent most of the first day vomiting over the rail.

  * * *

  On the third afternoon, as they rounded the Horn of Komo, they sat on the aft deck together and shared a bowl of eastern wine. The day was clear and bright. The Orichomo Mountains loomed in the distance like jagged rain clouds. The beaches on the shore looked barren and rocky with sparse vegetation beyond.

  Noboro told Turesobei stories about the different ports he had been to. And he told Turesobei about nearly getting killed the first time he ventured into Batsa's streets by himself. As Turesobei laughed, Noboro sighed and shook his head.

  “That first trip out on my own seems so long ago. I was young, impetuous, and hotheaded. I'm still amazed that I survived.”

  “You've never seemed ill-tempered to me,” Turesobei said, not that he'd been around his father enough to really know.

  “That's because I burned it all out when I was younger. What your mother didn't strip from my soul.”

  Turesobei winced. “You hate her don't you?”

  Noboro frowned. “I don't hate her, Sobei. Hate is a strong and terrible thing. I've hated very few people in my life, even Jimusha, even most of those who've tried to kill me.”

  “How could you not hate someone like that?”

  “Well, you must always ask yourself, 'Why is this person trying to kill me?' You need to understand why he's your enemy.”

  “So you can fix what angers him?”

  “Yes perhaps, but also because it may not be personal, and hate will bring you to do things you'll regret.”

  “I don't understand. How could it not be personal?”

  “Well, for example, in most wars, the conflict itself isn't personal between two soldiers. They are trying to kill each other because that's what they've been ordered to do.”

  “So some of the people who've tried to kill you were just doing their jobs?”

  “Exactly. A man must fulfill his duties or lose his honor.”

  Turesobei eyed him critically. “And what about jealous husbands? Hated any of those for doing their duty in coming after you?”

  Noboro glanced at him sharply then looked away in embarrassment. “No, I have not…but you know, not all the women I've…not all of them have been married.”

  “How many women have there been?” Turesobei asked.

  Noboro's cheeks reddened. “Gods! What kind of question is that to ask your father?” Turesobei shrugged. “Well, if you must know, more than I can count. And I don't regret a single one.”

  Turesobei scowled at him but said nothing.

  “You don't have to look at me like that,” Noboro said.

  “It's not fair to Mother.”

  “Oh come on! You have to be joking.”

  “I don't see anything funny about it.”

  Noboro eyed him carefully. “You mean you don't know about….”

  “About what?” Turesobei asked when his father remained silent.

  “Well, your mother has a lover, you know.”

  “What! Who?”

  “I'm not telling you since she clearly doesn't want you to know. I can't believe she's kept it a secret that well.”

  Turesobei thought about some things Enashoma had said to him that he had disregarded as unimportant. She knew! He realized now that she had been trying to see if he also knew. But he hadn't. His little sister had figured it out, but he hadn't.

  Turesobei stammered, “I just can't believe all this.”

  “I'm sorry, Sobei, but your mother and I don't like each other much, and that's no reason for us to keep each other from having some happiness in the world. You have to understand that the world of grown-ups is complex, and nothing is ever as simple as it should be. Studying to be a wizard takes up a lot of your time. And your mother is obviously good at sheltering you. I don't doubt that you haven't yet realized exactly what goes on within the palace walls, but you will one day soon.”

  Turesobei realized that he had known there was more going on without ever thinking about it. After a long while, he said, “I don't really want to go home after this is over.”

  “Of course not. No one wants to go home at the start of a journey. Only near the end.”

  “What about you, Father? Do you ever miss home?” Do you ever miss me and Enashoma was what he wanted to ask. He understood about Noboro avoiding Wenari. She was nearly impossible for Turesobei to live with, and he did love her.

  “You ask hard questions, Sobei. And I wish I had a better answer for that one. I do miss it sometimes, but not a lot and not often. I miss you and Enashoma, and your grandfather. I was always closest to my mother, though, and I used to come home more when she was alive.”

  Turesobei nodded and watched the rise and swell of the sea. Noboro held the wine bowl out to him. “Do you want the rest?” Turesobei shook his head. He already felt flushed and a little dizzy.

  “I'm sorry I haven't been a better father, Sobei. But I have my work, and your mother and grandfather take good care of you. I only married and had children because I was supposed to.”

  Noboro drained the wine bowl. “I'm going to do my best to make it up to you on this trip, though.”

  Turesobei smiled and was about to tell him he didn't hold his absences against him when a sailor interrupted them and told Noboro that the captain needed to see him.
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  * * *

  They made a brief stop in the Zangaiden port of Changaku for supplies and then continued on their way. At first Turesobei enjoyed avoiding his normal routine, spending his days watching the sea and his nights, hidden in his compartment, chatting with Lu Bei, asking him all sorts of questions and sometimes getting a few answers. Grandfather Kahenan rarely gave him full days off. However, after five days, Turesobei grew bored and lethargic, so he began his martial arts practice again.

  Noboro joined him on the deck and instructed him on the finer points of various movements. Turesobei was surprised to discover his father was a master at many of the routines. He thought he might even be better than Arms Instructor Kilono on a few. Turesobei guessed that his father had studied with and observed many teachers during his travels.

  After another five days, Turesobei felt hollow and listless. He could no longer stand to avoid magic altogether. As he went through his meditations, he reveled in feeling the primal currents in the ocean's depths below them. He took out his spell strips and checked them for kenja leaks. Eventually he would need to boost them, but so far they had held properly. He summoned two flickering flame globes at once and skimmed the sea with them.

  When he grew tired, he practiced his calligraphy in the old baojendari script and recited vocabulary from the ancient tongue. After he finished all that, he felt content again and wondered if he truly enjoyed wizardry or if he just didn't know how to live without it.

  “Lu Bei,” he asked the fetch late one night before retiring, “did Chonda Lu ever grow tired of magic?”

  “Of course not, master. Magic was more than what he did. It was who he was.”

  * * *

  The reef density increased. The ship slowed to navigate the treacherous waters and twice anchored at nightfall instead of continuing at half its normal speed. The weather had turned against them with strong westerly winds that required tedious tacking through the dangerous reef channels. This was the only safe and reliable way to sail around the continent of Okoro since the reefs extended so far out into the shallow ocean that surrounded them.