Storm Phase Series: Books 1-3

by Hayden, David Alastair

  “Lu Bei…he didn’t really play a major part in it, though he assisted along the way. Certainly made me feel better to have him along. But through a significant portion of the trip, he was injured. When we were ambushed…an arrow that would have struck me struck the book instead and nearly destroyed him.”

  Kahenan seemed disturbed but said nothing.

  “Luckily I was able to revive him with help from the Bogamaru Sengi.” Turesobei went on to describe the procedure in detail.

  “Again, I am proud of your efforts. It seems you have paid far more attention than I thought all these years. I fear what would have become of our future if the fetch had perished.”

  “You really think that he’s that important?”

  “An object of Chonda Lu’s returning from the past? This has happened for a purpose. I have no doubt of the diary’s importance. Besides, I know things you cannot.”

  “And you’re not mad at me?”

  “Why should I be?”

  “The diary was nearly destroyed.”

  His grandfather smiled. “I am merely thankful to have you back. I could have lost you as well. Artifacts, no matter how powerful, are not as important as people.”

  * * *

  The rainstorm that began during the funeral worsened into a torrential thunderstorm. Hail, lightning, and gale-force winds pelted Ekaran and all the lands of the Chonda. The storm's brutality waxed and waned, but the dark roiling clouds never moved away. It was as if a small hurricane had been anchored to Batsakun.

  Gusting winds ripped tiles from rooftops. Limbs fell onto houses. Trees were uprooted. Glass windows shattered. Paper windows tore. Low-lying places flooded. Many zaboko near rivers and lakes had to abandon their homes. Word filtered in that the Taba River had swallowed the docks at Dakanuru, and dozens of boats had sunk. Thousands of people lost homes. Dozens lost their lives.

  During the first day, Turesobei ran outside during an ebb in the storm, accompanied by Iniru and Onudaka. He carried a pack over his shoulder and kept the hood of his oiled rain cloak tightly pulled over his face. He walked behind Onudaka to keep out of some of the wind, but one gust still knocked him over.

  Drenched despite the cloak, he banged on the door of a quaint, three-story townhouse. It was typical of most of the zaboko houses in Ekaran. A lean zaboko woman opened the door and stared at him with surprise. No one else was out. And no baojendari noble had likely ever come to her house before. She clearly recognized who he was, though.

  She bowed. “Can I help you, my lord?”

  “Can you please let us in? The weather's terrible.”

  “Of course, my lord, of course. Please forgive me.” She led them in to a sparsely decorated main room. Several children were running about playing, but they stopped dead in their tracks and backed away when Turesobei and his companions entered. An older woman, a grandmother he assumed, and two older daughters came into the room and bowed down low.

  Turesobei removed his coat and hung it on a hook on the back of the door. He introduced his companions and accepted the woman's offer for tea. One of the daughters scurried off after it immediately.

  “You are Fodoru Rimei, correct?”

  “I am,” said the woman, forlornly. She glanced at him miserably. “You were there when my husband….”

  “I was.” Turesobei waited until the daughter returned and asked her to sit and not get anything else. “Is this all of your immediate family?”

  “All that live here in Ekaran right now.”

  “Captain Fodoru, your husband, served with my father many years. I know that must have been hard on all of you.”

  “He was a wandering man,” she said, staring off toward the corner. “I guess I'm a loner. Our arrangement worked for us. But I'll still miss him.” She shook her head. Tears had welled in her eyes. “Gods, I knew this would happen someday. I only hoped all the children would be older.”

  Turesobei reached into his pack and drew out a bundle of items. He stepped forward, half-bowed, and reached the packet to her. She gazed at in wonder. “These are the items he carried with him. I couldn't bring home anyone but my father. But I made sure to bring home the effects of every man that served with him.”

  With surprise she unwrapped the packet and found a scarf that Fodoru had always worn around his neck, his Chonda insignia, a medal of merit he'd won in training, and a carving of a small bear that he'd attached to the inside of his breastplate, over the heart. Rimei drew this last object into her hands, kissed it, then held it against her cheek. She sobbed.

  The grandmother spoke. “You have brought fulfillment to my daughter. We are indebted to you, my lord.”

  “Fodoru was a good traveling companion. I didn't know him long, but in that time I learned many things from him. He saved my life, and who knows how many times he and my father probably saved each other's lives.”

  “Tell me how it happened.”

  Turesobei drew in a deep breath and told her as much of the story as he could. King Ugara and Grandfather Kahenan had told him not to give out details about the Storm Dragon's Heart.

  Onudaka said, “I know it's hard, madam. I was a medic in the army for many years. I've seen so many die, most with far less dignity than your husband received. I could tell from his wounds that he fought and died well. And Turesobei here has done more than any lord I've heard tell of to bring these items back to you.”

  “Thank you,” she said to him. She turned to Turesobei. “I'll always be grateful to you, my lord.”

  “That's not quite all of it,” he said. He drew out a pouch filled with a hundred coins and a bank note for three thousand jade.

  “That's a small fortune, my lord! I can't accept that kind of money.”

  “Wasn't my decision,” he replied with a smile. “My father arranged it with Fodoru years ago to take care of you if something ever happened to him.”

  She looked at in wonderment, all of them did. But she couldn't seem to find anything to say.

  “Will it be enough?” Turesobei asked.

  She chuckled a bit. “Aye, my lord. It should clothe my grandchildren.”

  “Good. If it's not, just send word to me and I'll see what I can do for you. In fact, if you ever need anything, just come to me. Who's your warder?” The warders were baojendari in charge of each section of the town and were the immediate administrators of zaboko affairs. It was a throwback to the overseers in the days of slavery.

  She named the man and Turesobei said, “I'll talk with him and see that you are treated fairly. I'll tell him how you came about the money, too, so he won't be suspicious.”

  “Thank you, my lord. He's a fair man, to be sure, but he isn't a trusting one.”

  “If you ever have trouble with him, just send a note to me and I'll see that the problem gets fixed.”

  She thanked them profusely and they finished drinking their tea. She showed them to the door. “I would talk longer, but I have other families that I must visit.”

  When they reached the next home, Iniru pulled him back for a second. He could barely see her face through the driving rain. “You're a good man,” she said.

  “Are you sure I'm not a boy?”

  “No boy would do this. Nor most men, either, for that matter.”

  * * *

  While Turesobei and Enashoma watched, Iniru sharpened all twenty weapons she carried with her: the two sickles, sixteen steel throwing spikes and stars, and two stilettos. Then she started pacing Turesobei's room and glancing toward the window. Rain and wind lashed against the closed bamboo shutters and the glass pane. Lightning flashed, thunder boomed. Every so often hail would pelt the tile roof.

  “You might as well relax.”

  Iniru stopped and scowled at him. “It's not going to stop. You know this is Haisero's doing.”

  Turesobei shrugged. “Maybe he's only worsening an existing storm.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “He couldn't have mastered the heart that quickly.”

  “You t
old me he was talented and that they talked about a text that told them how to use it. They've had it for weeks now. We also know that Haisero doesn't mind taking risks with magic.”

  “Well, when we meet with Grandfather Kahenan this afternoon, we'll find out for sure.”

  “Is Onudaka going with us?”

  “He said he wouldn't unless we needed him. He plans to keep helping the medics. A lot of injured people are coming in.”

  “I don't suppose Grandfather would let me come?” Enashoma asked.

  “You can try if you like, but he'll probably just kick you out.”

  “Hmm,” she said, scratching her cheek and staring at Iniru, “I think I'll try anyway.”

  Iniru paced again. “Sobei, have you not tried yourself to use magic to determine the origin of the storm?”

  “Have you seen me try? Honestly, I've barely been awake when you're not around.”

  Glancing toward the door with a mischievous look on her face, she said with a snicker, “I had thought you might be sneaking off to visit your intended when I wasn't around.”

  “Yeah right,” Turesobei said. “Like I'd do that.”

  A high-pitched voice from the doorway said, “Ahem.”

  It figured that Awasa would be determined enough to go through the storm if she wanted. She strolled into the room with her attendant Marumi and her young guard Zaiporo in tow. Zaiporo hung back at the doorway, looking uncomfortable. She wore an elegant silk dress with elaborate floral patterns. At one time, the dress might have stunned Turesobei. Now, it only seemed pointless and confining. Not surprisingly, mud stained the bottom.

  Iniru and Awasa stared at each other. “So,” Awasa said haughtily, “this is the k'chasan tramp you've been hanging around with. She’s hardly human.”

  Iniru's eyes flared, but Turesobei responded first. He stalked toward her. “You take that back! She is not a tramp, she's my friend. And she’s a better human than you’ll ever be.”

  “My mother may seek to annul our engagement. I hope she does. You being around such people…. It’s distasteful.”

  “Fine by me. That would be a relief.”

  “I suppose you're going to run off to the forest with her afterward.”

  “I'd rather do that than marry you. But Iniru and I are not like that.”

  “Why should I believe you? You clearly can’t be trusted anymore.”

  “Awasa,” Enashoma said, “be reasonable. If Sobei says it's not like that, then you know it's not. He never lies.”

  Awasa glowered at Enashoma then turned back to Turesobei. “I didn't receive a letter from you.”

  “You said you wouldn't read any if I sent them.”

  “I wouldn't have, but you still should have sent one. It was the proper thing to do. It would have shown that you are still devoted to me. That you are not off with this tramp doing gods—”

  “That's enough,” Iniru said. “Go be jealous somewhere else.”

  “Or what?”

  Iniru drew one of her blades. “Or I cut your throat.”

  “You wouldn't dare.”

  Marumi gasped and backed up against the wall. With a hand on the hilt of his sword, Zaiporo stepped forward and placed himself between Iniru and Awasa.

  “I could escape them easily. And Turesobei would be welcome to come join me. I'd rather marry him than let him suffer a lifetime with you.”

  Awasa fumed and looked as if she might scream at any moment. Iniru put an arm around Turesobei. “Don't you have games to go play, little girl?”

  “You're not much older than me,” Awasa spat.

  “Among my people I’m an adult already. I am free to marry. I could take Sobei,” she emphasized his casual name which Awasa didn't use, “as my siwo, as my mate, right now.”

  “He's betrothed to me!”

  “So? What do I care? Your mother's arrangements don't matter to my people.”

  Awasa looked as if she would slap Iniru but then clearly thought better of it. She closed on Turesobei. Oddly, their faces had never been so close before. “Turesobei, I don't expect you to be tricked by her deceitful nature.”

  He shrugged helplessly. “Well, she is nicer to me than you are. A lot more interesting, too.”

  Awasa slapped Turesobei hard across the cheek. Iniru's arm swept forward, but Enashoma caught her wrist and held her back. “It's not worth it,” she said.

  Awasa stared at him angrily. Tears welled in her eyes. Then she spun around and stormed out with her shaken handmaidens in tow.

  Enashoma released Iniru's wrist. “Sorry I stopped you.”

  “No, you were right.” Iniru eyed her closely.

  “What is it?”

  “You have amazing reflexes.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You could be a qengai, you know.”

  Enashoma blushed and smiled. “Really?”

  “Definitely. That is, with about ten years of intense training.”

  Enashoma's face fell. “Oh.”

  Iniru patted her on the head and was about to say something further when Turesobei moaned. “Thanks for your concern.”

  Both turned to look at him. He was holding a hand to his lip to stop the bleeding.

  Iniru looked at him and tsked. “It's just a busted lip from a dainty little girl.”

  “Well, it still hurts.”

  “I've seen you suffer worse. That's just your pride that's stinging.”

  Enashoma got a hand cloth and dipped it in water. She dabbed the blood away and made him hold the cloth against his lip. Then she traced the tattoo with her finger.

  “Stop that!”

  “It worries me.”

  “It's my vow. It doesn't concern you.”

  “Fine,” Enashoma huffed. She stamped over to the cushions in the corner and plopped down.

  “You do have a way with women,” Iniru teased.

  “I've noticed,” he mumbled. “Niru, what you said about running off—”

  “Don't get your hopes up. I was just trying to give her a good scare. She really likes you, you know.”

  “Whatever.”

  “It's true. Trust me, I can tell. But she thinks she owns you. That's your biggest problem. She's a bit high-strung, but maybe if you keep growing a backbone you can cure her of that.”

  “How?”

  “Stop looking at her like a lost puppy for one thing. She's too used to being adored.”

  Turesobei shook his head and sat down near Enashoma. “It doesn't matter. I'm tired of her anyway. She's boring and she's the most irritating female on all the Earth.”

  “Not me?” Iniru asked.

  “You're irritating in a different way.”

  “I see. What about Shoma?”

  “Yeah, Sobei, what about me?”

  “You've never irritated me that much and you know it.”

  “I'm going to have give you pointers, Shoma.”

  Enashoma grinned mischievously. “I'd like that a lot.”

  Turesobei moaned. “You two will be the death of me.”

  “Nonsense,” Iniru said. “Awasa's more likely to kill you.”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Grandfather Kahenan hadn't been out in the storm, but Turesobei would have thought that he'd sat out in it for hours judging from the mood he was in when they arrived at his tower. He opened the door for them, frowned at Enashoma, grunted, and motioned for them to follow him up into the workroom.

  “This is where you work?” Iniru whispered to Turesobei as she looked around. Enashoma was doing the same. She had only been up this high in the tower a few times before.

  “I practically live here, and I'm thinking about moving in. One day, this will be my tower. If I don't—” He glanced at Kahenan and hushed.

  “It's nice here,” Iniru said. “Though it reeks of magic.”

  “Well, what did you expect?” He paused. “Wait, how do you know it reeks of magic?”

  “I can sense kenja disturbances and gatherings.”

  “You di
dn't tell me that!”

  “You didn't ask.”

  “Oh. Well, thanks for telling me.”

  “Thought you should know.”

  They entered the workroom and Iniru looked around appreciatively at all the books, scrolls, tables, wall charts, and diagrams. Turesobei knew it was a lot to take in all at once. It was a cozy room, with its bamboo floor, cushions, teak tables, hanging vines trailing from pots near the ceiling, trees and shrubs, painted screens.

  “Did the storm let up?” Iniru asked.

  The storm was beating against the shutters but not as loudly as at Turesobei's home.

  “No,” Kahenan said. “I think it is getting worse, actually. The tower is shielded by various charms. Come, sit down.”

  He offered them cold tea, which they declined.

  “So,” Turesobei said, “is the heart causing this storm?”

  “You know that it is. Use your brain, Sobei.”

  Turesobei was stunned for a moment, and then he dipped his head and apologized.

  “No, no. I am sorry for snapping at you. I am under a lot of stress right now. And I’m tired. I was up all night working location spells and conducting divinations.”

  “Why didn't you call me in? I am your apprentice.”

  “I called in Yurika, Etera, and Nokusada for help. You needed rest.”

  “The other wizards in the clan,” Turesobei explained to Iniru. He frowned and said to Kahenan, “I still could have helped.”

  “Oh, you are going to help all right. That is why you are here now. The others are resting. I used them for what best suited their talents. Now I am going to use you for what you do best.”

  “Scripting?”

  “Indeed.”

  “I could help locate the heart if you haven't yet. I've seen it. I've felt its power.”

  “So have I, Sobei. Or did you think that when I went out there with your father that it did not call to me, too?”

  Turesobei's eyes widened. “That's why you didn't go! It's been calling to you all this time. Like with me and father!”