by Clark Bolton
“I said I don’t know,” Ich-Mek reiterated as he glanced at Bose to try and guess if his friend knew what Tang was talking about.
Tang scowled at his impatience. “It’s called the tenth because it is vitally important to the Emperor. Only here can training take place safely. Too much training and no ring means you have to live in a cave!”
“Why?”
“Scarm.” Tang’s eyes lit up as he said this word again. “They never give up…they come in the night!”
Bose nodded his head in agreement as he gave Ich-Mek a concerned look. It was obvious that Bose believed what Tang must have told him at some point during his stay in the cave.
“Will they come for me?” Ich-Mek asked.
Tang cackled for a moment then went silent before walking over to retrieve his small ladder. As he fumbled to lower the ladder, he said, “You wear the ring…boy! They fear you!”
Tang motioned for them to follow him down the ladder. Again Ich-Mek told Tang he didn’t have a lot of time before he needed to get back to the library. The man ignored his plea as he led them deeper into the cave.
Tang would ask Ich-Mek questions as they walked and then sometimes motion for silence as he paused to listen, as if worried they were being followed. Ich-Mek and Bose were warned not to touch the sides of the tunnel, or anything else, and it appeared to Ich-Mek that Bose also had never seen this part of the cave. He could now see why it was best not to touch things as it seemed their voices alone were causing tiny bits of the ceiling to pelt down upon them.
“This is the way the girls came…before it collapsed,” Tang announced as he pointed down a side tunnel that was half buried in debris. “I miss that,” he added sadly.
Tang then led them down another tunnel that went on for what Ich-Mek felt must be half the way under the school above them. When they stopped suddenly for no apparent reason, Tang turned to him and asked to see the ring again. Hesitantly he held up his ring hand, which was glowing from the many cantrips he had placed upon it.
Tang got a cruel look in his eye as he stared at the ring. Then, as quick as it came, it left.
“They are living rings…you know this?”
“I’ve heard it said before,” Ich-Mek replied as he looked to Bose for support in case things got ugly for some reason.
“It’s okay, Ich,” Bose assured him softly, but Ich-Mek couldn’t help but notice that Bose was also watching Tang carefully.
“It wouldn’t let a murderer wear it,” Tang then said with a lost look on his face. “The Regent doesn’t know that.”
“You think he would kill me?” Ich-Mek asked in disbelief. “How could he? The palace-mages would know…and the Emperor would hear of it, wouldn’t he?”
“It doesn’t show on the tally,” Tang replied flatly. “You told me this.”
“Yes…but it will!”
Tang shook his head. “Is that what the Regent tells you?”
Ich-Mek thought for a moment as he tried to calm himself. “No…” he admitted. “…He thinks I may never be presented to the Emperor.”
“Yes! And if you teach him enough he will think himself able to don the ring!” Tang then looked to Bose with what Ich-Mek took as a knowing glance.
Ich-Mek took a few steps back down the tunnel toward his friend and away from Tang. “You can’t know this! He…he could be just scaring me!”
“You’re a boy,” Tang declared again. “The regents used to be Owesek-mages. Ober-Toss thinks they should be again.”
“He did say I might be one someday,” Ich-Mek admitted.
Bose put his hand on Ich-Mek’s sleeve to exclaim, “Really Ich! He said that to you?”
“Hmmm!” Tang grunted skeptically. “That’s not his plan. If it is, do you want to wait around until your finger itches so much you’re tempted to cut it off?”
His notes had mentioned this fact, Ich-Mek knew. The rings in this way told their wearer when advancement to the next finger – and thus the next level of arcane mastery – was appropriate and, indeed, required.
“What if there is no one to advance the ring?”
“Insanity is my guess,” Tang spat. “Hasn’t the Regent hinted at this?”
Ich-Mek nodded his head. “He did once tell me not to study too hard. Said it would awaken the ring…and there would be no master to help me.”
“Yes, and your notes say an Owesek-mage must have a master.”
“He’s dead,” Ich-Mek said sadly.
“It will search out another!” Tang assured him with enthusiasm in his voice.
Ich-Mek wasn’t sure the passage he had put in his notes should be interpreted by Tang in that way; he hadn’t seen it as such. But with Tang staring at him, he was thinking he should have.
“The Oath says that’s okay,” Ich-Mek admitted. “I guess I’m free to do so.”
“Not the palace-mages!” Tang declared. “They won’t let you near them.”
“Who, then?”
Tang just shook his head before turning to lead on again. Eventually the tunnel came to an end. Here were piles of debris caused, obviously, by someone’s attempt to dig upward.
“Cast your detection spells,” Tang told him before sitting down to wait.
The whole ceiling lit up above him when Ich-Mek did so. So powerful was the glow that he could hardly stand to look at it. With a little hesitation he reached out to touch Bose to allow his friend to see some of what he was seeing.
“Is it dangerous?” Bose asked in a hushed voice as he stared upward.
Ich-Mek shrugged. “I don’t think so…but who could have done this?”
The two of them went on staring at the arcane-energy that seemed to be almost crackling around them. All the time Tang merely sat there silently, seemingly brooding.
“This is why the Scarm don’t come to Key-Tar-Om,” Tang declared softly after a time.
So overwhelmed by the enchantment were Bose and Ich-Mek that it took a while before Ich-Mek could gather his thoughts to ask again, “Who did this?”
Tang smiled softly to himself. “An emperor and his mages, I’m sure. It’s why the school is here.” He then looked at them sharply. “What does an emperor fear above all other things, boys?”
Ich-Mek and Bose both struggled to take their minds off the looming enchantment above them, until finally Bose was able to answer, “A dragon?”
“Yes! And the Emperor’s a dracomon, isn’t he?”
Bose nodded his head and replied, “He can transform into a dragon, if that’s what you mean. Everyone knows this.”
“Yes…and what does he do with every dracomon that is born?” Tang pressed.
Ich-Mek thought hard for a moment before saying, “They go to the dragon-cloud, don’t they?”
“They do. And so what is left for an emperor to fear?” Tang then reached out to nearly touch the ring on Ich-Mek’s finger.
Ich-Mek knew what Tang was getting at by his action. “An Owesek-mage, I suppose.”
“Yes, boys,” Tang replied as he came slowly to his feet. “And so what does an emperor fear more than a dragon or an Owesek-mage?”
Both Ich-Mek and Bose shook their heads in confusion. Other than gods, what was left, Ich-Mek wondered. Armies, maybe, but he didn’t think Tang was looking for that answer.
“Think, boys! What do only five individuals wear in this empire…six if you count Ich-Mek here?”
“I already said Owesek-mages,” Ich-Mek replied defensively.
“Yessssss…but not a dracomon wearing one!” Tang yelled. “He fears this…he thinks all of you will teach one of his ilk…or his nephews…or some other dracomon! Then they’ll wear the ring…and they will come for his throne!”
Ich-Mek found himself unable to get his mind around what Tang was claiming, and was now getting very nervous, fearing time was running out for him back in the library. Shaking his head in bewilderment he dared to slip past Tang and began hurrying back down the tunnel, leaving a bewildered-looking Bose behind him.
Ich-Mek stopped moving at Tang’s odd change of subject. “But I’m not a master,” Ich-Mek retorted.
“Ah, the ring will sort that out later,” Tang snapped.
“Why do you care?” Ich-Mek yelled back.
“I want you to remove the Regent!”
Ich-Mek was taken aback by the request. “I’m not an assassin!”
“The Regent is! Another cycle will come, and six more dragon-students will die, Ich-Mek!”
Ich-Mek shook his head in despair before turning to hurry on back to the library. He slowed only long enough to let a concerned Bose catch up to him.
“I can’t leave, Ich,” Bose said after they had left Tang behind.
Ich-Mek nodded his head as they walked. “I know…and I promise to do what I can to make sure someday you can.”
__________________________
“I’ve sent a letter to the Regent asking that he send you on to your post in Imin,” Ich-Mek admitted to his friend the next morning. “He will think it is because I’m worried I’ve nearly taught you too much. And if you stay, I will.”
Rish was speechless for a few moments. At first, Ich-Mek thought his friend would refuse, which secretly he hoped Rish would do. Since Bose had exiled himself to the cave it felt sometimes like Rish was the only family he had left.
“I can bring Lipa?”
Ich-Mek found himself smiling and, with tears welling up in his eyes, he replied, “Of course you can. I hope you will be very happy together.”
Rish stood and then bowed low. “I…am honored to have served you, Fu-Si.”
“No…never served me, Rish. You are my brother…as Bose is,” he said proudly. “I must take care of you as best I can.”
“But what of you? Will you stay here?”
Ich-Mek shook his head sadly, saying slowly, “I will…be okay, Rish.”
More he wouldn’t say; he didn’t want to burden his friend with it, or endanger him in some way. Rish might try to talk him out of it, or do something foolish that would prevent the Regent from letting him leave.
“Here!” Ich-Mek said as he slid a small bowl full of gold coins over to the bars.
He’d asked one day for one-hundred gold coins, just to test his authority. To his amazement they had been sent to him. It was the exact amount paid to the family of a deceased dragon-boy, so he had taken it as a veiled warning from the Regent not to misbehave.
His friend stared at the coins with the biggest grin Ich-Mek had ever seen on his face. It made him laugh loudly. He then turned over the bowl, sending the gold coins cascading through the bars toward Rish.
“How will I carry it all?” Rish exclaimed as he scooped up a handful.
“You’ll think of a way! Just don’t let Lipa know you have so much, she’ll expect more.”
“More! I don’t need more!”
A sense of melancholy came over Ich-Mek next. In a way the coins belonged to his mother, and his father, though he knew they could never receive them. He dared not draw any attention to anyone he loved. He also felt his parents were already deceased. The hair that had come in the last letter, sent to him from his home province, hadn’t been his mother’s, nor his father’s, he was sure. He pushed the sad thought out of his mind as he watched Rish struggle to locate every coin.
Chapter 13 – Yi-La
Yi-La’s mind was awash with emotion as ladies and eunuchs alike painted her face, washed and styled her hair, and attended to nearly every other part of her body. All this happened while she was forced to hold on to her master’s lacquered box. She had on more than one occasion tried to set it down, but was then prevented from doing so by two very chatty eunuchs.
“No, Fu-Sa, you mustn’t!” they scolded. “Her Esteemed Ladyship will be displeased.”
The one named Chusey then added softly, “His Excellency, too.” He said this while he made a claw-like motion with his hand at her, and growled playfully.
“When will I meet Her Esteemed Ladyship?” Yi-La asked in frustration.
“We’ll tell you, sweet-water,” Rooch, the second eunuch, told her as he worked on polishing her nails. They had given her this pet name after first calling her Fu-Sa, then complaining it was too formal.
Since being escorted into the Forbidden-Gardens she had been pampered endlessly, but given no reason for it other than that she was to meet Me-Ta, Her Esteemed Ladyship, and first consort to the Emperor of Ibu-Jek. She had hoped for a short introduction, after which she planned to hand over the box and then hopefully be on her way. Now she could see that no audience was imminent, and that she had become some kind of a spectacle which more and more ladies of the Forbidden-Gardens were coming to see.
“Who are those behind the pillars?” she asked the two in a hushed voice.
The handmaidens of the consorts were becoming obvious to her, and they had no shyness with respect to her, even willing to help Rooch and Chusey without being asked. But toward both edges of this long chamber were rows of ornate pillars, and behind these lurked painted ladies that seemed to prefer the shadows.
“Consorts of His Imperial Majesty,” Chusey replied nonchalantly. “They’re waiting for their turn with you.”
“What?” Yi-La exclaimed as her heart started to race. “Shouldn’t we bow…or something?” she asked as she tried now to avoid eye contact with any of them.
“Nooo!” Rooch replied with a scrunched up face to let her know it was a foolish thought. “Ignore them…it’s what they want.”
Ignoring the ladies wasn’t something she could bring herself to do. Instead, she started making mental notes of all the different gowns and headdresses they wore. Clearly some were not part of any Ibu-Jek province she was aware of as they wore truly odd and even outlandish clothes. But they all seemed to have one thing in common: youth and beauty.
“Some of them look very young,” Yi-La remarked quietly after a time.
Both Rooch and Chusey found the remark hilarious. “Ohhh, you’re plenty old enough,” Rooch told her.
“Mind the tongue!” Chusey quickly snapped at his friend. “She’s wanted only for her ring!”
The two then laughed at Yi-La’s expense, then stopped abruptly to explain the humor of it. Since Yi-La was one of only five who wore the dragon-rings, she was a prized possession of not only the Emperor, but of the court in general; particularly since, unlike males, she could enter the Forbidden-Gardens. She, they suggested, was unlike the young consorts Yi-La was looking at. Though gifts from distant lands, these girls were like pebbles on a beach to His Imperial Majesty and source-of-golden-light.
“How many are there?” Yi-La worked up the courage to ask.
“A hundred and five,” Chusey replied with a nod from Rooch. “We have to count them,” he explained.
She was finding these two eunuchs to be a wealth of information about the imperial court, but found separating their outlandish humor from facts difficult. Trying hard now to put the lingering consorts out of her thoughts, she stared at her ring to help clear her mind.
“It’s on his hand too…” Chusey cooed when he apparently noticed what she was looking at. Holding up Yi-La-s left hand, the eunuch lovingly caressed all her fingers save the one bearing the ring. “I thought there would be a dragon inscribed on it,” he added with a slight pout.
Yi-La shook her head. “I don’t think any of them do,” she told them, though in truth she was now thinking that maybe the emperors did.
“Time, ladies” came a sharp announcement from a tall fat eunuch who began prancing around and clapping his hands in order to chase off the handmaidens. “Get her on her feet!”
Yi-La had been half asleep and had all but forgotten for the moment why she was feeling so relaxed. Sitting up from the shock of what this interruption of her pampering must mean, she felt around for the lacquered box. Finding it in the middle of her lap, she gr
asped it tightly, then froze for a moment as women and eunuchs whisked away perfume bottles and the like from all around her.
She was gently pulled to her feet and then instructed to join the group of eunuchs at the end of the chamber. With worry on her face, Yi-La looked to Rooch and Chusey for support, and found the two waving encouragingly at her as she was led away.
The procession she was now a part of marched from the building down a wide stone path and into a vast arched building not far away. Here more eunuchs and even a few apparently lower consorts, lined the hall of Her Esteemed Ladyship’s audience chamber. The place was so vast and immaculate that Yi-La at first thought this must be the Emperor’s palace, but then recalled that it was not within the Forbidden-Gardens.
“Kneel and present the box you carry,” one of the eunuchs whispered to her as they approached a podium upon which a tall young woman stood.
When the eunuchs gently tugged on her robes, she did as she was told, and so got down on both knees and held the box high as she lowered her head. She prayed that no one would notice she was trembling. She was very surprised when she realized the Lady Me-Ta herself was coming down the few steps to receive the box.
“Rise, Fu-Sa,” Me-Ta commanded as the woman took the small box in one hand and grasped one of Yi-La’s hand with the other.
Yi-La let the taller woman pull her to her feet, then found herself looking at the most beautiful woman she had ever laid eyes upon. Not only was she physically attractive beyond compare, but Yi-La found Me-Ta’s voice pleasantly melodic and warming in its nature. Immediately she imagined the woman to be a kind and gentle person, and her welcoming smile helped put Yi-La at ease.
“I am so pleased you accepted my invitation,” Me-Ta told her as she led her visitor up the steps. “Please sit with me, Fu-Sa.”
Yi-La nearly missed the request as a voice seemingly deep within her own mind said something odd. “Remember those eyes” came the voice, forcing her to blink rapidly in order to recover her composure.