by Karen Myers
A thought struck her. “But you can, or Char Dazu.”
“No money,” Char Dazu murmured, sitting up and trying not to disturb anyone else. “They emptied our pockets when they took our weapons.”
“Everything but your husband’s turban.” Gen Jongto’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Do all Zannib travel like that?”
“I will next time,” came Munraz’s voice out of a shadowed area. “I was wrong to turn down my jarghal’s suggestion.”
“I hear you, nal-jarghal, and I’ll hold you to it.” Najud sat up and leaned against the tunnel wall, placing a hand on Penrys’s knee.
“I have money,” Penrys said. “A reasonable amount. Certainly enough for someone to get us food and water, maybe some clothes or bandages. Don’t know what’s going to be needed to get out of here, though.”
“And you have power-stones, I see.” She heard a tone of approval in Vylkar’s voice and saw him stir in the dim light. “How many?”
“Wasn’t sure I’d need them but I made a special stop once I had my… illusion painted on. Sent Talqatin off to pour a handful into a pouch for me.”
“You had the Zannib ambassador run an errand for you?” Vylkar asked, dryly. “And why would he have power-stones, considering the Zannib attitude toward raunarys, the physical magic?”
“They were my stones, from my packs,” she said, defensively.
Mrigasba cleared his throat. “Over in Rasesdad, there’s some debate about that point. But certainly they’re going to be useful now, I don’t deny.”
“That’s what the wood is for, that you brought.” Vylkar stated a conclusion, not a question. “What did you have in mind?”
“Wait, we’re getting ahead of ourselves.” Penrys yawned. “Since we’re all up, let’s take the time to pool our information and decide what to do. We need a plan.”
Najud squeezed her knee. “You first, bikrajti. We’ve been… out of touch.” The Zannib word reminded her of the days of tracking the rogue chained wizard through the snow with him and the others just a few months ago.
“Bikraj,” she said. “It’s a good word, with a fine taste in the mouth.”
“Do you know,” she told the others, “what the Zannib wizards do when a wizard goes bad and people start dying? They band together to stop him, because if they don’t, who can? It’s done out of duty, part of their responsibility as wizards.”
Her audience was silent. “I’m angry now. My honor and name have been abused. My family has suffered. Both my adopted countries have been insulted, and people have died. More than that… whatever’s going on, it’s clear that wizards are at the heart of it, both the chained and the others. I need to understand what’s going on, and why—we all do.
“Up until the attack a couple of days ago, I was content to help Tun Jeju ease the transition of the Kigali wizards and the chained ones out into the open. His country, not mine. His wizards, not mine.”
She slashed her hand through the air across her chest. “Sennevi. It is done. This is my fight now, not Tun Jeju’s. If the Kigaliwen can’t settle the problem, then I have to. We have to.”
Vylkar replied calmly. “I don’t see any other way.”
When she looked at Najud, he nodded in agreement.
“Mrigasba?” she asked.
“Chosmod would approve,” he replied.
Char Dazu hesitated. “What about the lupjuwen, the wizards of the country? I know they would want to help.”
“That’s right, I forgot,” Penrys said. “None of you know what’s been happening. There’s a new guild for the wizards, with the emperor’s endorsement. They’ve been getting organized, after the Kigali fashion ever since the attack. The chained wizards, too—Rin Tsugo is there. And your uncle, Char Nojuk, is moderating the whole affair.”
She filled them in on the founding of the guild, her discovery of the wizard concentrations in Yenit Ping, and what she discovered when she visited the criminal Chalen Tep district with Chosmod and Mpeowake.
“We’ve been busy,” she concluded. “Not like the lot of you, lying about in comfort up there.” She hooked her thumb upwards with a smile.
Gen Jongto pursed his lips. “There are things I should tell you all, even without the proper authority. It would be a mistake to take any steps without understanding the politics, and I don’t believe the notju has been very open with you about that. Too much is at stake.”
He paused, and Penrys filled the void. “Let me shed some light on the problem.” She charged the power-stones from her chain, and regarded the tired, bearded faces that swam out of the gloom.
“What time it it anyway? Is it still night?” She dug out her small light device and charged it, too, then gave it to Munraz. “Go to the grate—quietly!—and see if it’s daylight yet. Don’t let the light be seen!”
Munraz stood up stiffly and stretched before he took the device from her and walked around the bend of the tunnel. While he was gone, the last skin of ale was passed around and drained, and everyone shifted position to relieve their aching muscles, trying to find a spot of least discomfort supported by the tunnel wall on one side or the other.
Quiet footsteps approached. “It’s still dark, but it smells like dawn,” Munraz said, and he handed the device back to Penrys who laid it to shine upwards from the tunnel floor beyond them, in the direction they’d been traveling.
Gen Jongto cleared his throat and began speaking in a low voice. “The emperor has his guards, of course, and so does each city, but Imperial Security—we’re the guards of the nation, the protector of internal order. Naturally we’re aligned with the emperor, at least when the emperor is clearly doing the will of the gods, as a father rules his house.
“It’s a delicate balancing act. With the great magnates and the military leaders, we are the tripod that the peace of the empire rests upon. The emperor expresses his will, but it is the rest of the great powers that cooperate to make it happen.
“And we are, all of us, only human. However we strive to do the right thing, ambition and corruption dominate human affairs. A magnate may rise with the emperor’s favor, so it is in his interest to cooperate with the emperor’s will, but if he thinks he can only rise under a new emperor, well… The military may benefit from an external campaign, but if the emperor wishes peace with his neighbors, then… And even Imperial Security is not immune.
“We’re approaching a transition. The emperor, long life to him, will not live forever, and the usual factions are beginning to appear.”
Penrys asked, “How does the succession work?”
“The emperor makes his will known and a new member of his family succeeds him.”
“Sometimes.” Vylkar’s skepticism was such a familiar part of him that Penrys’s mouth quirked at it.
Gen Jongto acknowledged the sardonic comment with a nod. “If the chosen one is the eldest son, or one who has been recognized as the heir for many years, then the transition tends to go smoothly. As long as his views are well understood and all the other powers have come to an accommodation with them.
“But if his views would upset the balance, in the judgment of the powers, or if his views are unknown, or if there is a dispute among the successors backed by different factions, then bloody chaos results. It’s happened before, and it may be happening again.
“In this case, the designated heir is unobjectionable to the current powers—that’s not the problem. But there are always new powers who would like to break into the top ranks. And that’s what we’re facing, Tun Jeju believes.”
Najud muttered for Penrys’s ear alone, “Like starting a new caravan and upsetting things.”
“One of the emperor’s recognized bastards, Tsek Uchang, is making a push to be legitimized. He’s about the age of the heir, and his mother is part of the Tsek family of military suppliers. Their compound is up here in Juhim Tep, near the army headquarters. We’re sure the clan is planning a push with Tsek Uchang as their excuse to pull themselves into the top ranks. If t
hey can seat the next emperor, the thing is done.”
“Is that necessarily a problem?” Penrys said. “New blood, and all that?”
Mrigasba muttered, “Disruption, factions, chaos. A coup is always bloody.”
“Surely the emperor knows all this,” Char Dazu said.
Gun Jongto nodded. “Tun Jeju took advantage of his presentation to the emperor after the victory at Neshilik to seek a private audience and lay out his concerns, and the emperor shared his own observations of the situation.”
He hesitated as if reevaluating his decision to share information, then he forged ahead. “The emperor expressed his surprise, since Noi Shibu had been telling him something entirely different, dismissive of this threat. Noi Shibu, you understand, is two levels above Tun Jeju.”
Mrigasba nodded sagely. “He’s been bought, by the Tsek family.”
“How do you bring an accusation about corruption here? How do you fix it?” Penrys asked.
“You don’t,” Vylkar said. “Power and money must be brought to bear against power and money. And blood usually results. The lessons of history.”
Gen Jongto nodded. “And that’s what we want to avoid. Tun Jeju has been in communication with the emperor ever since, while the emperor pretends to believe the reports of Noi Shibu. This is not without cost—suspicion is growing about Tun Jeju from some of his superiors, and that’s the last thing we want. Factions within Imperial Security are a fearsome thing—they know all the secrets.”
“Why now? Why foreign wizards now?” Najud asked.
“Because we’ve disbelieved for a long time, in Imperial Security, that there could be no lupjuwen in Kigali. We left the the situation undisturbed as long as things were stable. But now’s the time, because our spies tell us odd things about some of the clans in Juhim Tep, that the leaders within the families have secret meetings to which only some of the family are ever invited.”
“Lupjuwen,” Char Dazu said. “There are lupjuwen up here. Why not? Many of the old families have them, so why not here?”
Penrys stood up to stretch her muscles. “So the combination of an ambitious family with an heir of its own for the empire, and the fear that wizards might be involved—that’s what precipitated it. Right?”
Gen Jongto nodded. “We didn’t know much about the tekenwen obviously—you’re the only chained lupju Tun Jeju had ever met. He thought if he could let the lupjuwen come forward on their own and claim a place, it would either force any of them up here to do the same for their own advantage, or require them to hide and thus tie their hands. We bungled the recruiting call for the tekenwen, but the emperor agreed with Tun Jeju’s reasoning and backed it with the guild license.”
“No wonder that was so prompt,” Penrys said. “If the Tsek clan has wizards, what about the bastard? Is he one?”
Gen Jongto shrugged. “No way to know. All I can say is that I recognized the family symbols on the compound we escaped—the Tsek clan. And all of you tell me they have lupjuwen.”
“Wizards and chained wizards,” Najud said.
“Three chained ones,” Penrys added. “And I don’t think they’re self-taught amateurs like the ones Rin Tsugo’s picked up. I think they’ve had three years of a wizard’s education, just like I did.”
She glanced at Vylkar who said, dismissively, “Native texts instead of the well-established education in the Collegium.”
Char Dazu replied with some heat, national pride besting deference to an elder. “Our texts go back almost two thousand years, in the private collections. Do yours? We spend much of our youth and adult years studying underground in the compounds.” He cast a rueful look at their surroundings. “Not quite as underground as this, I grant you.”
There was silence for a moment while bodies shifted, seeking in vain for softer surfaces.
Najud ventured a question for Gen Jongto. “I assume we can’t just gather the wizards from the guild and mount an assault. Wouldn’t that be the proper responsibility of the guild when faced with criminals or renegades?”
Penrys shook her head. “You couldn’t bring a bunch of untrained chained wizards in to attack well-prepared ones, and I can’t easily picture people like Char Nojuk launching into some sort of disciplinary war.”
She turned to Char Dazu. “What about the Armorers’ Guild? Wizards and weapons both—they must understand violence, surely.”
“Not this kind,” he said. “That’s not the answer.”
“There’ve been wizards at war in the past, yes?” She looked at Mrigasba, but it was Vylkar who answered.
“You’ve seen the heaths where nothing grows, hakkengenni, even if you haven’t read every book in the Collegium. Wizard wars have a distressing tendency to continue until few wizards remain, and the prosperity of the whole nation suffers for generations. You should read more history.”
Mrigasba endorsed this depressing view. “Our mages are aligned with different gods, so we enjoy the additional element of religion added to our mage wars. A serious mage war is nothing the world wants to see, ever again. The devices alone, and the damage they do…”
He glanced at Vylkar and the two of them shared a look of understanding.
“How much power does the emperor really have?” Najud asked Gen Jongto.
The man replied, slowly, “It’s a mistake to think of the emperor as a figurehead, a purely ceremonial position. A subtle man can find many ways to shape events, indirectly. Look at the grant for a guild—how that change will spill out across the nation and, incidentally, hobble the actions of the wizards of the Tsek family, if they let it.
“He won’t issue a command that is at any risk of being disregarded, but he can bring the will of heaven into his pronouncements, if he feels it right, and the people will listen.”
“I will have justice,” Penrys said, “and all of you want peace and order. Can an appeal be made to the emperor? Seeking redress for, I don’t know, the violation of guest rights for invited foreigners? Something like that?”
Gen Jongto pursed his lips. “Make it a matter of judgment for him, righting a balance that has been disturbed, angering the gods… That might work, give him an excuse to launch some sort of action.”
He looked around at them. “All of you should participate, to make it more solid.”
Char Dazu added, “And the guild wizards, too. This is part of their duties, to ensure balance and righteous actions. Will the tekenwen join in?”
“Last time I saw Chosmod, he said Rin Tsugo was on the platform with all the other leaders, hammering out the rules,” Penrys said.
Vylkar told Gen Jongto, “Penrys is the best positioned to present the petition—a foreigner, a chained wizard, a guest whose rights have been violated, and the subject of a dishonorable libel which caused the death of another foreign guest. Plus she represents Zannib, Kigali’s oldest ally. And Ellech.”
That last surprised Penrys, and she stared at his imperturbable face.
“So we bring a petition, then what happens?” she said. “He can’t enforce anything, can he?”
“No, but you can ask for a lirshik, to give the heavens a chance to make their will known. That’s a trial by sword or other weapon.” Gen Jongto turned the idea over in his mind. “You couldn’t challenge Tsek Uchang—he would be off limits by blood. But the Tsek clan is another matter. You would represent yourself and all the foreign wizards. Your challenge would naturally go to the patriarch of the clan, Tsek Anbu, but he would need to choose a champion to oppose you. And so would you, for a physical fight. Unless, I suppose, this would be a fight between wizards… I don’t know what the precedent would be.”
Penrys shook her head. “I’m likely to be stronger than the wizards in the clan, but it’s their chained wizards I’m wary of. Can a champion be a hireling? Or are they maybe married into the family?”
Najud said, “And there are three of them. Are we to believe they will fight fairly?”
Mrigasba shook his head. “Unlikely. Accounts of mage
wars are full of the most outrageous stories about cheating.”
Vylkar said briskly, “Therefore this needs to be settled as a public affair of honor and justice, with as much precaution as possible. And it will take place in front of an imperial audience which, guarded though it may be, will be vulnerable to attacks from the contesting wizards, and any other wizard who chooses to interfere.”
Char Dazu nodded as Vylkar spoke. “So the guild wizards must serve as guards for the court and the rest of the audience.”
“If the imperial succession is part of the problem,” Mrigasba said, “then I can all too easily see an attempt being made on the emperor at the same time. And that makes the designated heir an ally, if we can find some way to speak with him.”
Gen Jongto stood up. “I think this is as far as we can take it for now. It’s a decent skeleton of a plan, but our next steps have got to be getting out of reach of our recent captors and communicating with Tun Jeju and everyone else.”
Penrys laughed as an idea came to her. “Where better to conceal a few extra wizards than with a bunch of others? Think the Armorers’ Guild would hide a few more, Char Dazu? It’ll make it harder for any other wizard to find us—too many blades of grass in the glade.”
“I would want to check with my uncle,” Char Dazu said, “but I think that’s workable.”
“Then all that’s left is getting out of here,” Gen Jongto said. “Tun Jeju’s going to need time to set things up. You should all disappear while he starts the process.”
Penrys caught Munraz’s eye and rolled her eyes at the lack of specifics. “So, just how are we going to get from here to there?”
CHAPTER 25
Penrys recharged the light devices again while Gen Jongto sketched out his plan for getting out of Juhim Tep.
“These storm drain tunnels we’re in were created when the city above us was built. Only a handful of grates can be opened, and those are locked, so people think of them as water drainage and nothing else. They don’t connect to the buildings, as far as most people know. It’s the other tunnels that have most of the rumors.”