by Paul Heisel
“What’s this business taking Feln into custody?” Owori asked.
“It’s complicated,” Yuki replied, pausing, as if that was the only words he could muster.
“Are you saying I’m not smart enough to understand?”
“No, not at all…”
“Go ahead, I’m listening.”
The chair scraped underneath Yuki as he pushed away from the desk. He went over to more comfortable stuffed chairs and motioned toward her, inviting Owori to sit. His face was intense.
“Do you want me to leave?” Qia asked.
Owori didn’t know if she was asking Yuki or her for permission to stay. “Remain,” Owori said before Yuki could respond. He didn’t protest, but he did cast a glance in Qia’s direction.
“I’ll fetch tea.” Qia left the room.
“First,” he said, “No longer will I tolerate these high spirited verbal engagements you feel you are entitled to. My father didn’t allow it and I won’t allow it. You are the Emperor’s Fury. Start acting like one.”
“I saved your life! If not for me all of you would be dead. Qia included. Don’t you ever forget that!”
“That doesn’t give you the right to barge in here and demand that I explain what has happened to a Most Favored! You are a Fury!”
“Feln is my best friend!” She took a deep breath. “It should grant me latitude,” she said, voice calmer.
“Yes, I suppose it does,” Yuki responded, his voice reluctant. “Sit down. Promise me you will cease challenging me openly in front of others. That I can’t have, not even in from of Qia.”
“What about when we're alone?”
“I’ll allow you this latitude today, but very little going forward. Now, sit down. I’m conflicted about what has happened, but I have no power to do anything. Not now.”
They sat down in the comfortable chairs. Owori noticed the paintings, tapestries, sculptures, large furniture, and carpets had been removed from the room. In fact, it was almost bare except for the desk. He was making the transition to the Emperor’s suite.
“Before my father’s death, he and Yan decided that the Xialao family couldn’t be trusted with Feln running it. They decided that the Most Favored of Safun, given his responsibility, wasn’t trustworthy when it came to matters of crimes his family may have committed. They don’t trust him to uphold the laws for his own family.”
“Feln is one of the most honest people I have ever known.”
“Hear me out,” Yuki said. “The Emperor was angry that Feln wouldn’t form an alliance with Daiwer-dar. He had the Xialao compound surrounded by the army so Feln couldn’t leave. The Emperor planned to force Feln into an arrangement by keeping him here. I discovered that my father injured the dragon Sli for his blood, and to make amends I set the dragon free so he could visit his clan and help Feln, once, under my direction.”
“I know that,” she said. “Thank you for being reasonable.”
“My good intentions had unintended consequences. The Emperor was so angry that he and Yan created a law that states the Most Favored of Safun, if accused of a crime by another family and with proof, will not have judgment passed by his own hand. Instead the Warlord of Pyndira will decide punishment. Originally they had the Emperor leveling the punishment, but I was able to convince them that the Most Favored of Safun, whoever it was, wouldn’t submit to the Emperor’s will in this manner. The only unbiased party in this whole land is the Warlord of Pyndira who operates under a different set of rules and protocols.”
“You won’t punish Feln for what happened, will you? You know the story, don’t you?”
“It was told to us by the emissary my father sent. He accompanied the deceased Emesian,” Yuki answered. “His story is that Feln murdered the Emesian.”
“The emissary tried to poison Feln. He lost one of his best administrators. Tell me, if an assassin tried to poison you and you caught him, what would you do?”
“What I would do isn’t the issue, and trying to make me sympathetic to Feln won’t help him. Yes, I realize that he has already been judged guilty by Yan and I’m sympathetic because if I was in the same situation, I would have acted no differently. There is little we can do, what is done is done.”
“Then why has Feln been taken prisoner?”
“The enacted law is clear. The Emperor and Chamberlain have brought allegations against the Most Favored of Safun with proof rendered by the witness. The Warlord of Pyndira will weigh the evidence and issue appropriate punishment.”
“Then release him. You’re the Warlord of Pyndira!”
“But I’m not,” he said. “When my father died I became the new Emperor and I’m no longer the Warlord of Pyndira. I’m in flux. Currently and technically, there is no Warlord of Pyndira. I will become the true Emperor when the new Warlord of Pyndira is chosen. The new Warlord of Pyndira, not me, will make this decision on punishment.”
“Who are the candidates for Warlord?”
“We don’t know. Just this morning the Crypt of Warlords opened, which is what we’ve been waiting for. It could take weeks, a month or more to find the next Warlord. As soon as my father died, the families knew that the Crypt would open. By now those seeking to attain the position are coming here to the Crypt of Warlords to qualify for the tournament. They will come from all corners of Pyndira and from all the families. What I’m trying to say is whoever becomes Warlord will judge Feln in this matter. I’m certain there are families, like the Ku family, who will want to have this judgmental power over Feln.”
“What if I were to become Warlord?” she asked.
“Furies aren’t allowed. The magic of the Crypt won’t allow it.”
“So Feln’s fate will rest with whoever becomes the Warlord, and what you’re telling me is he will be judged by politics and not reason?”
“You’re correct,” Yuki said with a sigh. “Many already count him as guilty and will offer no quarter. I’m sorry, I intended when this happened for me to be in that position to help Feln. I would have sent him on his way, perhaps with minor punishment but not much. Feln is an honorable man and shouldn’t be judged by this incident. Besides, I don’t want to make Feln my enemy. We need his family to do their job. I don’t need him angry at the Empire. I need him to police this Empire.”
“When you become the Emperor you can pardon him.”
“It would be too late. I’m sure the moment the new Warlord comes into power that will be the first order of business.”
“How do we make sure a person sympathetic to Feln will become the Warlord?”
“We can’t. Inside the Crypt of Warlords is a place governed by the spirits of Warlords past. It’s an unusual place sealed by ancient magic. The spirits choose who can and can’t advance to challenge for the position of Warlord. Even if we had a person in mind and put them forth, he or she would still have to be chosen by the magic.”
“So all we can do is hope that a person who understands Feln becomes the Warlord. This is getting worse.”
“The families will send many people to participate in the ritual in the hopes of getting multiple candidates. Word went out about Feln with the announcements this morning of the Crypt opening. Yan saw to that.”
“If you think I’m going to stand by and do nothing to help Feln, you’re mistaken.”
“Keep in mind that you aren’t above the law either and I won’t tolerate open interference. Furies are loyal to the family they serve and you are loyal to the Emperor. Don’t cross any lines you may think are not clear. I have nothing more to say. You’re dismissed.”
“What about the tea?”
“It wasn’t for you.”
“This is the last time you’re going to be cordial to me, isn’t it?”
“I’m the Emperor, so I have to act like one. You are a Fury, you have to act like one.”
“What about Qia?”
“She understands there is the possibility that we may not have a future as we once thought. She’ll act accordingly. She�
�s a Fury dedicated to this family. If she becomes my wife, then she will act like the wife of the Emperor.”
“I’m Feln’s best friend,” Owori said. “I’m going to act like one. A friend.”
“Your family comes first.”
Feln is my family. “That, at least, we agree on.”
#
Even inside his guarded room, Feln felt like an unwanted guest. At least he wasn’t in a prison or worse, a dungeon that they would conveniently forget he was there. There were chairs and a table, a simple pallet, no windows to the outside, and no decorations. It was dim save for candles in sconces that flickered against the walls. Guards adorned in red robes were outside of his room at all times. The Dragonfly blade leaned in the corner, a silent reminder of how all of this had begun. He would have to ask for a rack to put the fine blade upon – leaning it in the corner was inadequate for a blade of such great quality. They let him bathe and they were cleaning his clothes, which would be returned to him soon. All he had on was a robe they loaned him in the baths. He wasn’t sure how late it was, and being so tired he couldn’t trust his body to judge the exact time of day or night. There was no sense in staying awake, so he laid down on the pallet and went to sleep.
He awoke when the door opened and a servant brought in food; aromatic vegetable soup and dried rice cakes. The servant departed without saying a word. He stared at the broth, wondering if he should eat it. Could he trust the food wasn’t laced with poison? It would be an easy way to kill him and no one would be the wiser. He could see Yan, the Chamberlain, announcing the Most Favored of Safun had died in his sleep. Died in his soup. It would take time for the soup to cool, so he would use that time think about it. His stomach rumbled as the aromas filled the air. He lit additional candles and a lantern, brightening the dreary room. As he sat down he heard voices outside of his door, the words weren’t clear, but a person in authority was issuing orders. Feln stood up, considered retrieving the Dragonfly blade but decided against it, and he waited for either the door to open or the soup to cool. A key scraped and turned in the lock and he heard the additional restraining bar being removed. The door swung open partway and a familiar robed figure slipped inside.
“Owori!”
She rushed into his arms. With that embrace his fears washed away, no matter what happened, at least he had Owori in his arms one last time. He could feel her strength and she was holding him tight.
“I have news for you,” she said. “It may be difficult.”
“There is no other type of news in Pyndira.”
“Yuki will not be the Warlord who passes judgment on you. A new Warlord will be named soon, and once that’s done, Yuki will be Emperor. Depending on who becomes the Warlord, you may or may not have fair treatment. What I fear is the new Warlord will be from a rival family and you’ll be found guilty, then summarily executed for your crime.”
“I thought Yuki was the Warlord of Pyndira. I was counting on it.”
“He was. Once his father died, he became the Emperor to be, thus relinquishing his position as Warlord. Since there is no Warlord, you can’t be judged. Not yet. Not until the tournament finishes.”
“Shades,” he muttered. "I thought Yuki would be the judge. I was counting on his support. Shades!"
“Word has gone out to the other families. Yan included the information about the new Warlord judging you. Candidates will be coming here to be considered for the position. I don’t understand it all, not yet, but I will. Yuki said the Crypt of Warlords has opened, and the rituals will begin to qualify the entrants to the contest. I think it’s like the tournaments that the Accord of the Hand hosts to determine our fighting champions. Remember? Each monastery would send their best fighters and there would be a tournament to determine the Grand Champion?”
“I remember.”
“Do you have candidates for this position?” she asked. “Someone who will help us?”
“I didn’t send for candidates, if that’s what you’re asking,” he muttered. “I didn’t know I was supposed to. Shades!”
“You know I will do anything within my power to help you.”
“I know. What I don’t want, though, is for both of us to lose our lives.” He hugged her again. “Do you think you could pass this ritual? Could you enter the tournament?”
“Furies aren’t allowed. I asked.”
“Of course.” He reflected on what he learned from Pearl and he wondered if Owori thought he was a Fury. That didn’t matter, not now, it was a subject for discussion if they found their way out of this. “Can you send word to Suun and the gardener, Nar?”
“What do you want me to tell them?”
“Same message to both, but at separate times. You don’t need to deliver it in person, you can send a messenger from the palace, a person you trust.”
“What do you want said?”
“Tell them we need to find a Favored One from our family, who can become the Warlord of Pyndira, otherwise my chances of survival will be greatly diminished. Explain the situation if you must.”
“I’ll go myself so I can explain all of this to them,” she said.
Feln held her again and kissed her on the cheek. She gave him a more formidable kiss on the lips.
“Thank you,” he said.
“I’ll come back, but I think the palace may restrict access to you. If you need to get a message to me, tell one of the Dragonguards. They will get it to me, but they will also tell Yuki and Yan. So you may have to be creative with what you say. Trust that I’ll figure it out.”
“I’ll do that.” He paused. “Do you think it’s safe to eat the soup?”
Owori went to the table and took a sip of the broth. She set down the bowl, then her hand flew to her chest and she lurched forward. Feln’s heart leaped, he didn’t want her to do that! Test the soup for poison! Just as the panic came she stood straight and smiled.
“Owori!” he scolded. “You’re such a rascal!”
“One thing they are good about here is making sure the food isn’t tainted. I would trust it. They aren’t going to poison you. They want to keep you alive so they can kill you later. Poison would be such a letdown.”
“You’re such a rascal,” he repeated.
“But you love me anyway.”
“This is true. You…”
Owori gave him another kiss that shut him up, then she went to the door. Without looking back, she departed.
Feln sat at the table and sipped the broth, it was spicy and had bits of white meat and vegetables in it. It tasted wonderful. He dipped the rice cake into the soup, it fell apart and made a mess, so he decided against that method and ate them separately. All that was missing was an ale and he would have been content. For now. What he needed was for a way out of this situation and to find a person worthy of becoming the Warlord of Pyndira, preferably someone that didn't want him dead.
#
Owori thanked the guards and darted down the hallway, moving quickly so she could get outside of the palace and deliver the message to Suun and the gardener. She went over what she was going to say, making sure they understood the grave situation and that they would need to find viable candidates. Though she didn’t know how the Crypt of Warlords worked, it was her best advice to have them send as many as would be allowed. Pulling the red cowl over her head, she turned a corner. Ahead of her was one of the palace guards leading another man and the Most Favored of Emesia, Hiru. The man accompanying Hiru was large and broad, and looked as if he had traveled for many days and had just arrived. Hiru appeared smug. She directed herself to the wall and let them pass by, ignoring them, not making eye contact or acknowledging them or the guards. When they turned the corner, she blinked and followed. They were making for Feln’s room, she knew it, and she prepared herself for the worst. The large man looked like he could rip the arms off a horse demon, not only that, he looked like he wanted to do that to Feln. They had katanas as well – guests weren’t supposed to have weapons here. If they tried anything, she wo
uld have to be quick to stop them. She stayed back and waited, hands lingering by the hilts of the Dragonblades.
“No one is supposed to see him,” one guard said.
“It will take only a moment,” Hiru said. “Besides, I’m a Most Favored. Move aside before I have you punished for disobeying me.”
“You must leave the door open,” the guard said. “Anything you say will go directly to the new Emperor and Chamberlain.”
“I don’t care,” Hiru said. “Open the door.”
Owori edged closer so she had a good view of what was going to happen. She didn’t think they were going to harm Feln, but she kept on her guard anyway. The door opened and the man and Hiru stepped inside, blocking her view. Her hands went to the Dragonblades again, and she gathered her magic in case things became too interesting.
“Finally we will see justice done,” Hiru said. “We will do what your family has failed to do. Punish the guilty.”
“Do you remember me?” Watahon asked.
“Of course,” Feln said. “How could I forget one of Hiru’s lackeys, the one that murdered Kojo. You did my job for me with Kojo. You know, the Most Favored of Furawa is still upset that Kojo is missing. There were rumors about him being taken prisoner after invading Emesia. The Most Favored was expecting ransom, but nothing ever came. I’m sure he would be pleased to learn Kojo’s fate, no matter how dismal it is.”
Watahon grew in stature. He was giant, quick, and strong, and Owori figured he was a master at getting his opponents on the ground and pounding them. The best way to fight him was at a distance and making sure he didn’t get a hold of you. Owori remembered Feln speaking of Kojo and the theorized secret alliance with Hiru, and she wondered if there was any truth to his notions? She sat back, remained unseen, and observed.