Justicar Jhee and the Cursed Abbey

by Trevol Swift

  That Raigen could so flagrantly disregard the rules of not only polite behavior but basic health and yet remain standing, defied Design. Her squandered potential stole momentum from the Divine Mechanism where it might better serve those who needed it more. While Mirrei struggled to do even the minutest activities, this scoundrel wasted twice the energy stumbling about in drunken idleness. At the poetess’s age, Jhee’s oldest, surviving sisters had already begun to distinguish themselves in the navy. When Jhee reached that age, she had dreamed of following in their footsteps.

  Jhee marched up to Raigen who had produced a flask. The area around the table still smelled of incense, licorice, and burn cream. Given Raigen’s state of drunkenness, she expected it to reek of a still. The poetess tipped the pitcher to her flask. “What you are doing is not only unseemly but unsanitary.”

  “What exactly is it am I doing, Justicar?”

  Her words were clear and articulate. The poetess’s hands were rock steady. She did not so much as spill a drop.

  “You’re not drunk.”

  The poetess put the flask inside her robes. “No.”

  “It was my proud pleasure to have met the governess. Why such a disgraceful ruse? Your mother’s eyes are still upon you.”

  “It is because of her, I’m here. Fools can go about nearly invisible and inquire where others can’t. Much like Justicars.”

  “So, there is more method than madness to your poem as well. If you have some proof of a crime, I’ll hear it and render fair judgment.”

  “Proof. Therein lies the problem. I like my tongue and my head precisely where they are.”

  “I’ve made it my mission to ensure such harsh penalties are no longer imposed in the district. For slander or libel penalties to apply, a false charge would have to be leveled. However, gossip amongst bored residents is simply uncorroborated evidence, not an accusation.” Jhee took the pitcher from the poetess. She squared her shoulders and added sternly, “Nor proof.”

  Raigen nodded. “Saheli and my mother served together, and they corresponded often. She was concerned about odd happenings at the abbey. Whisperings in the walls. Weird lights. Odd behavior amongst the staff and novices. She sent a communique where she stated another authority was undermining her. I questioned some of the staff and novices. A name continued to come up: The Mist Abbess. Saheli died soon thereafter. My mother succumbed to illness before she could inquire into it herself. Fresh Lung Sickness. I promised on her deathbed to investigate.”

  Jhee flinched. Her gaze flicked to where her family had left. “Most admirable. What have you found so far?”

  “Taking vows here may become hazardous to one’s health. At least if you’re male.”

  “Someone may have taken it upon themselves to correct the surplus male problem.”

  “Three so far that I know of. All since the first quake. Who knows how many more there may be? I don’t have the skills to investigate thoroughly alone. I am a simple poet. You have legal backing and Imperial authority at your disposal.”

  “Which also carries a decidedly higher profile and standard of conduct.”

  “I implore you. If not for my sake, then for Akesheem.”

  A Simple Request

  Before Jhee could inquire further, Pyrmo reentered the banquet hall. Raigen knocked over a cup and snatched the pitcher Jhee held.

  “Justicar, you are still here.” The abbess gave Raigen a look of utter contempt. “Is this wretched creature bothering you?”

  Raigen uprighted the cup. Jhee took the pitcher back. “Just discussing proper conduct with our young poetess here and the vagaries of poetry.”

  Raigen’s formerly alert gaze was now glazed over and unfocused. “It’s nice to meet, meet a learned woman sophisticated enough to nuance my poetry unlike you rest of, the rest of your bores. Perhaps I’ll go share my poems with the Honored Dead in the Coral Cloister. Perhaps they’ll appreciate it more.”

  Raigen staggered away.

  The abbess relieved Jhee of the pitcher. “My forgiveness for your being subjected to her.”

  “None needed. It was most illuminating. The poetess’s carrying on has been most shameful. There are a great many young men and women here, and it’s for those of certain stature to set the example.”

  “I shudder to think how the governess would have reacted if she were alive to see what has become of her only heir.”

  “No doubt she would have been most distressed. Perhaps the allure of your delicious wine overwhelmed her.”

  “With the exception of those who work the vats, Professed and Prospective alike are only permitted one tankard of our house wines a week or a thimbleful daily for health except on certain occasions. They may also partake of small amounts of kolal during services, but no other stimulant drinks. She appears to have found a way around our restrictions. I’ll have to tell the staff to be more mindful. This is not the first time I’ve found her such. You know I even found going through my things and the wine cellar the other day.”

  “Truly. Truly distressing when such a compulsion drives you to such lengths.”

  Pyrmo studied the pitcher she held for a moment then placed it on the table. “I had hoped to teach her self-discipline, and in some small measure, our teachings would have a benevolent impact on her. In that, I am failing. Perhaps you may have more luck in straightening the young priss out.”

  “Is that all that troubles you, abbess? The deacons mentioned recent deaths.”

  “I appreciate how you were able to navigate the waters between those two.”

  When Pyrmo said nothing more, Jhee attempted a different approach, “During my stay, I was hoping to get a tour of the abbey. In addition to the archives and ingenious hothouses, I heard of your famous Coral Cloister and Crypts. For now, I’m afraid this beautiful abbey has me a bit turned around. Where might I find the vizier’s room?”

  “I can escort you if you wish. The vizier currently occupies our hermitage.”

  “My thanks. Such an intriguing design to your central hall.”

  The abbess walked her out an entrance different than the one which led to the main dormitories. “The abbey’s layout follows the principles of sacred geometry. Six entrances from six halls to represent the six pillars of society.”

  Jhee jutted her chin at the chained door nearest them. “Where does that door lead?”

  “The Corrections Hall.”

  “What of the other?”

  “The other? The crypts. Both are off-limits. They sustained some damage during the recent quakes.”

  “I hope no one was hurt. That isn’t where the young man died, is it?”

  “Not there. Both had already been closed by then, the hall due to Saheli’s order. She took a different view of discipline than past abbesses. As for the crypts, the risk of flooding has put them off-limits during the storms. The extreme moisture also interferes during the first few years of the preservation process we use on our honored dead, such as my predecessor.”

  “May I inquire as to how your predecessor died? Disease? Disaster?”

  “Transfiguration. Her spirit ascended in light directly to the Maker Sphere while several of us watched. A transcendent sight I might have questioned had I and the high clergy not witnessed it ourselves.”

  “Remarkable. What events preceded this extraordinary occurrence?”

  “Saheli and I had spoken just that morning about abbey business. She pursued several crafting and artistic pursuits in the gardens. The weather that day was sunny, not wet and black like now. Professed as well as the visiting scholar, Sister Niza, also there for contemplation later heard her performing alignment chants. Then the sound of her engaged in dialogue with the Makers.”

  “How can you be sure it was the Makers?”

  “Those who saw her said no one else was there and she sat alone on the bench, but she had completed the most exquisite sketch of her cat. No doubt via the Makers’ inspiration. She announced her intentions to take advantage of the clear weather a
nd spend the rest of the afternoon in contemplation via construction in her favorite place, the Bridge tower. Some time later she summoned me, the prioress, the deacons, and a visiting scholar, Niza. She delivered an hour-long sermon about the nature of cyphering and drawing with respect to the pillars of society. The Imperial Theological Department is even considering adopting it as a primary text.”

  “Impressive. To qualify for consideration means an independent account exists. Where might I view a copy?”

  “The archives. Saheli preached with transcendent power and full of the most inspired and eloquent language the great thinker, Yrisa, upon reading Sister Niza’s account wrote a ten-paged annotated commentary of its allusions and symbolism. Those of us present felt the strength and power of the words in our bones. Her spirit became visible. A great beam of light appeared. She spoke her last words and passed out dead on the spot. With a great blinding flash of light, her spirit ascended the beam to the Divine Spheres. Before it disappeared, I touched it and was left with these burns.”

  The abbess displayed her hands, then tucked them away.

  “I know you already think us backward and superstitious, but Niza witnessed it too. The recent deaths have quite upset the residents of Tranquility Bridge. Justicar, were you sincere about offering us your services?”

  “Of course, Abbess.”

  “Being a woman of law and letters, I thought if you were to reassure everyone and find a more natural mundane cause, it would put many minds at ease.”

  “As a holy woman yourself, you see no work of Unmakers in this.”

  “I know Unmakers, especially the Unmaker, prefers to use mortal faces to hide hir true intent. Here we are. The vizier’s chambers. Some of Saheli’s artwork and writings were put in the archives. The rest of her belongings are interred with her in the crypts. Her remains and belongings may someday be counted as relics themselves on par with our other Honored dead. This right here is one of Saheli’s works.”

  An etching hung beside a door illuminated by a glow orb. Jhee admired the workmanship.

  “Superb. What became of the cat?”

  “The cat? Oh, yes. We buried it in the garden under her favorite tree.”

  “I would very much like to read that account and the sermon if I may, but it seems as if Sister Elkanah has taken a dislike to me.”

  “Ask the vizier. Sister Elkanah holds her in high regard. Perhaps if she were to speak on your behalf, she might be more inclined to grant you access.”

  “Many thanks. Is there any opportunity for me to autopsy Saheli’s remains? My duties require some training in forensic and mortuary sciences. My first husband and wife also have some medical training. I’d be interested in what the act of transfiguration does to our mortal form.”

  “Autopsy? The preservation process may prevent that, and as I said, the crypts are sealed right now. I’m also afraid I cannot allow a male to examine such a holy personage as our abbess or near our most sacred spaces. I shall consult with the prioress. I must leave you now and attend to other matters.”

  Once Pyrmo left, Jhee examined the etching once more. Exceptional work. The tiny pop of grit ground underfoot drew her attention. She paused to listen, then stared into the darkness beyond the orb. She waited for her eyes to adjust but saw no one. A whiff of the air proved equally fruitless. Because of the drenched poultice, all she smelled was mint.

  6 The Audience

  Teatime

  On the other side of the door from the etching, the wall bore a panel with a placard pad. Jhee placed her conch against it and transmitted her social credentials. Pyrmo had not delivered her a formal invitation, so she defaulted to social protocol. The panel displayed the lady’s seal, then the door opened. Jhee’s position relative to hers did not require that.

  Jhee entered and waited by the open door to be acknowledged. Every piece of furniture was black lacquer. No doubt brought with her from the capital. Nothing in the room was simple and utilitarian as Jhee might have expected of someone who had retired to such an austere place. The vizier’s chambers were adorned in antique instruments and battle regalia. Feathered animal headdresses. War aprons with the sea bat or silver fox. Obsidian spears with hardwood throwing shuttles. The gold and green tabards of the ancient warrior societies. Battle flutes. War drums. The trace of high-grade incense hung in the air. Along the walls, shelves stacked with books and seaweed parchments alternated with others containing chests and other curios.

  She acknowledged Jhee’s presence with a look and gestured to a small table with a gilded tea service set up in the middle of the room on an exquisitely woven rug with the curved and repeating pattern borders popular with the great houses of the capital. Jhee closed the door and seated herself properly. The tea had a heavy, earthy smell more similar to kolal, likely a blend of the two. The lady hummed a little passage of music then finished a last bit of writing with her fingernail quill. She considered the page then smiled.

  At last, she joined Jhee. As for the lady herself, she was an imperiously postured woman with high cheekbones who dressed in robes a step or two in finery above anything Jhee might have worn. Her fur showed the silvering of age, but just barely. Her esca appeared bright as ever. “Allow me to pour, Justicar.”

  The vizier poured the steaming kolal into the cup in front of Jhee. Jhee waited for the vizier to fill her own cup. She slipped the insulated sleeve over her cup then turned it thrice before picking it up in both hands. “Honors, Vizier.”

  The vizier turned her cup twice. “Honors to you as well, Justicar.”

  Jhee drank a moment after the vizier. “It’s good to see the injuries you received in the quake haven’t slowed you down.”

  “Thank you for your concern. You are familiar with high etiquette.”

  “I have been to the extended court in the Outer Reaches and the capital.”

  “Never long enough for it to sink in its claws, I’ll wager. The politics takes its toll. Although it can be dull at times, and I had to seek my own amusement. Clever girl to stay out of depths you may not be prepared to handle. Keep above the waves as long as you can, I say.”

  Jhee smirked. She attributed the slight she felt to being called ‘girl.’ Some time had passed since anyone had dared. Vizier Bathsheba was likely to have been an adolescent when she was born. “The storm shield has changed much. Alas, Vizier, as storm and sea reclaim the Reaches, it is my fate to be reassigned to the capital. It is now my honor to serve at court.”

  “And you decided to stop at our humble abbey along the way. Poor dear, allow me to put something stronger in that cup of yours.”

  “No need, my lady. I think I would like to keep a clear head after the day’s events.” Everywhere Jhee turned in the room she found more treasures. She did her best not to marvel. “Vizier, I must admit to being in awe of your fine possessions. Especially the lute. My second husband also plays one and is an admirer of your work.”

  “A member of the Imperial family gave me that. May I ask what brings you to Tranquility Bridge?”

  “Our vessel required repairs. Although, I have heard some disturbing tales.”

  “Oh? Of what sort?”

  “The prioress told me of the cloister ghosts while the deacons speak about malign forces and Unmakers, especially in the Zodiac Courtyard where the young man died.”

  “Worried you’ve seen some?”

  “A place of such history must surely have its share. Of secrets as well. Then there is the abbess’s remarkable account of the death of her predecessor.”

  “I too heard something of Pyrmo’s account and read Niza’s account. Your credentials. During my tenure, they still spoke of an Imperial wedding stormed by adherents of the monogamist school. Your grandam preached with them for a time. She surely would have some words over your cohort.”

  “Grandmamere rejoined the Makers some years ago. I’m told all the most prestigious residents of the abbey witnessed the miraculous event. What’s your recollection?”

  “To
be honest, I’m not sure. I’m not as religious or zealous as some. I do know we sat in a room for two to three hours without much in the way of food or drink under less than ideal conditions. Who knows what phantoms devout minds might conjure up?”

  “You believe no transcendence took place?”

  “Who am I to say? It is a matter of faith for each one present.”

  “But not you.”

  “I have become something of a hermit. I am here to meditate and reflect. My goal was never oneness with the Makers as some others. Nor did I seek refuge from the war mind. I contemplated service you see. I wanted to participate in the effort to defend our lands and way of life, as we are told so often, we should. In the end, I always chose not to commit. Yourself?”

  “I, for the most part, saw no combat.”

  “But not for the whole part? Sounds like a story there.”

  “One I won’t bore you with.”

  “As you desire. You’re only in your position a few years I take it. Judging by accent and the style of robes from the Far Reaches and no doubt ambitious. I understand the desire to leave simple country ways behind. What are the lives of simple country folk compared to the thrill of court? Yet you remain humble and remember from whence you came. Hand-made robes and an unsophisticated head wrap. A traditional, provincial marriage cohort, two men, one woman. I’m surprised one so unestablished took on a full complement before you reached the capital where more opportunities for strategic marriages awaited. I don’t envy you having to balance those responsibilities.”

  Jhee’s fingers twitched. “Duty sometimes demands a different path.”

  “You are ambitious, looking to move up. Difficult to do with something like that hanging over you. New marriages hastily put together. I suppose to show up to court with only one consort would have made the wrong impression. A full cohort shows a break with your grandmere’s monogamist beliefs.”