Rise of the Blood Royal

by Robert Newcomb

  Mashiro clapped his hands and three servants appeared through a side door. Two men and one woman entered, each dressed in a silk robe and bearing a silver tray laden with silver pitchers and handleless cups. As they served everyone, Tristan noticed that the liquid they poured was steaming. Tristan picked up his cup and smelled its contents to find its aroma deeply pungent and unlike anything that he had smelled before. After everyone was served, the servants left the room as swiftly and quietly as they had come.

  Tristan looked over at Mashiro. “Might I ask what this is?” he inquired.

  Mashiro smiled. “It is called umake,” he said. “It is a distilled spirit that is laced with seasonings and best served hot. One must be careful of its potency, especially at first. Our blood is accustomed to umake, but yours is not.”

  Tristan, Wigg, and Tyranny each gingerly took a sip of the heady liquid. Closing his eyes, Wigg swallowed hard. Despite her love of spirits, Tyranny coughed outright, producing smiles from some of the Inkai. But Tristan, accustomed as he was to drinking harsh Minion akulee, found the brew to his liking.

  Putting down his cup, Mashiro looked at the three visitors. To Tristan’s surprise, the Inkai leader’s expression had grown serious.

  “Before we tell you of our world, we must inform you of recent developments in Eutracia,” he said. “What you are about to hear will disturb you, but that cannot be helped.”

  Immediately concerned for those he left behind, Tristan stiffened. “How can you know what happens on our side of the world?” he asked. “Are you in communion with one of my mystics?”

  Mashiro sadly shook his head. “No, Jin’Sai,” he answered. “At this moment none of your mystics possesses the needed forestallment. Like the Pon Q’tar, we have an Oracle in our service. What the Orb of the Vigors sees, she also sees. It has been this way since the earliest days of the War of Attrition.”

  Intensely interested, Wigg leaned forward. “What is an Oracle?” he asked.

  Mashiro smiled. “I appreciate your curiosity, but there will be ample time to discuss matters of the craft,” he said. “First you need to hear us out. I am sorry to tell you that one of your Conclave members has been wounded and another has been killed. You have our deepest condolences.”

  Tristan felt his stomach lurch. Shailiha, he feared. After quickly turning to look at Wigg and Tyranny, he cast a worried gaze back toward Mashiro.

  “Who are they?” he breathed.

  “The Jin’Saiou has been gravely injured, but she lives,” Mashiro answered. “The Viper Lord attacked your capital city of Tammerland. She was struck in the face by viper venom and blinded in one eye. Of greater worry is that the venom still runs through her bloodstream. Your wizards Faegan and Aeolus are tending to her as we speak, but her fate remains uncertain.”

  Heartbroken, Tristan buried his face in his hands and fought back his tears. After several quiet moments passed he took another much-needed swallow of umake, then looked back at Mashiro.

  “Who was killed?” he asked, his voice little more than a raspy whisper.

  Mashiro sadly turned his gaze toward Wigg. “Abbey of the House of Lindstrom died while fighting off the Blood Vipers,” he said quietly. “We are deeply sorry, First Wizard. Each Inkai member knows how much you loved her.”

  For several moments Wigg’s eyes widened and his jaw worked up and down, but no words came. As his eyes welled with tears, he suddenly cried out and reached for Tristan, burying his face in the Jin’Sai’s shoulder. Tristan held the ancient wizard as Wigg’s tears came freely and his body shuddered with the terrible news. Stunned by what he had just heard, Tristan turned to look at Mashiro.

  “What of my sister?” he asked. “Will she live?”

  “That is unknown,” a female voice said from across the table. “It is only because of her extraordinary blood quality that she still clings to life. But hope remains, however dim.”

  Tristan looked across the table at the woman who had just spoken. He remembered Mashiro introducing her as Midori of the House of Snowy Mountains. Her white hair was long and her green eyes kind, and her dark brown robe was embroidered with snowy mountain peaks resembling the Tolenkas. Like Mashiro, expressive lines creased her ancient-looking face.

  Trying to collect himself, Wigg looked blankly around with tear-filled eyes. He still trembled, but now the cause was pure rage.

  “Did Abbey suffer?” he asked.

  “I will not lie to you, First Wizard, because that is not our way,” Midori answered sadly. “Yes, she suffered before dying. Even so, you can be assured that the vipers that killed her suffered far more before your Minion warriors ended their lives. But I regret that there is more to tell you. We possess these facts because I am the Oracle to whom Mashiro referred earlier.”

  “What is an Oracle?” Tristan asked again.

  “Aeons ago and long before the War of Attrition started, twin baby girls of right-leaning blood were born here in Shashida,” Mashiro answered. “Like your wizard Faegan, they were born already possessing a very rare gift of the craft. In Faegan’s case, it is his gift of Consummate Recollection. Here on this side of the world, the twin girls were born as seers, or Oracles. What the Orb of the Vigors overlooks, the Oracles also see. But their visions do not occur constantly. They happen only when an important use of it is made, for it seems that the orbs are drawn to such occurrences.”

  “Fascinating,” Wigg said. “Where is Midori’s sister?”

  “Her name is Matsuko,” Midori answered sadly. “During the civil war engineered by the Pon Q’tar, Gracchus spirited her away. She has been his prisoner ever since. We have no doubt that he forces her to use her gift in the name of the Vagaries, just as I use mine in the name of the Vigors. It is my deepest wish to someday see her freed.”

  “So this is how you know so much about our side of the world,” Wigg mused. “For many centuries, Midori has informed you.” Thinking, Wigg sat back in his chair.

  “This explains much,” he added quietly.

  “Yes, but as I said, there is more to tell you,” Midori replied.

  “What is it?” Tyranny asked.

  “Not only were many of your minions killed, but the Illendium has been destroyed and the Cavalon burns,” another Inkai member answered.

  This time the voice was male. Tristan, Wigg, and Tyranny looked over to see the man who had been introduced as the head of the Shashidan armada. His name was Renjiro of the House of Daggers.

  Renjiro was a handsome man of about Tristan’s age. As was seemingly the custom among Shashidan men, his dark hair was pulled back from his forehead to form a short queue held in place with a gold ornament. But unlike the other men at the table, Renjiro had shaved the top of his head, leaving hair only on the sides. The effect was chilling and rather fearsome.

  His robe was made of black silk embroidered with beautiful silver daggers. Renjiro radiated a particularly powerful sense of self-discipline, and as he again sipped his umake, his movements were smooth and economical, leading the Jin’Sai to wonder whether Renjiro possessed the gift of K’Shari. But whether Renjiro commanded K’Shari or not, Tristan recognized an accomplished warrior when he saw one, and he had no doubts about Renjiro’s abilities. Aghast at the loss of two of his Black Ships, Tristan turned to look at Mashiro with unbelieving eyes.

  “What happened?” he demanded.

  “The Viper Lord’s attack on Tammerland was a diversion,” Mashiro answered. “Sadly, your Conclave members were taken in by it. Tammerland was never Khristos’ real objective—the ships were. He tried to steal the Illendium and then set fire to the Cavalon. Rather than see it fall into Khristos’ hands, Faegan destroyed the Illendium with the subtle matter that your mystics imbedded into its timbers. He also sent many Blood Vipers to their deaths in the process, but Khristos escaped. Even now your forces try to quell the fires ravaging the Cavalon.”

  “Where were Shailiha wounded and Abbey killed?” Wigg asked, his overpowering rage barely allowing him to speak.
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  “In the Tammerland battle,” Mashiro answered. “They acquitted themselves well, of that you can be sure.”

  Tristan suddenly remembered the gold medallion hanging around his neck. Desperately wanting to see his sister, he grasped it and turned it over. But before he could call the needed spell, Mashiro raised a hand.

  “It is best that you hear us out before you see the Jin’Saiou,” he said. “In any event, Faegan now wears the medallion, and you would see only what he wishes.”

  Although he was disappointed, Tristan followed Mashiro’s advice and let the medallion fall back to his chest. “Why has Faegan taken Shailiha’s medallion?” he asked.

  “He wishes to spare you needless heartache, Jin’Sai,” another Inkai member answered. “He also wants to help Shailiha recover before you see her. Her feelings must also be considered.”

  Tristan looked across the table at the man who just answered him. He had been introduced as Kaemon of the House of the Rising Moons. He was ancient and bald, his hairless cranium shining in the sunlight streaming down through the skylights. Three crescent-shaped magenta moons adorned the left shoulder of his gray robe.

  Tristan shuddered as he thought about his once beautiful sister and what she might look like now. “Is it that bad?” he asked quietly.

  “Yes,” Kaemon answered, “I regret to say that it is.”

  “I know that the distance between Shashida and Eutracia is vast, but can you help her?” Tristan asked Mashiro.

  Reaching out, the ancient mystic patted Tristan on one hand. “You’re right,” he answered, “the distance is indeed vast. Despite that, we have already taken action to help your sister.”

  “How…?” Wigg breathed in wonderment.

  “While the Jin’Sai was unconscious we used Tristan’s medallion to contact Faegan,” Mashiro answered. Despite the serious subject matter, the Inkai leader let go a quick smile.

  “As you might imagine, the wizard was amazed to see us,” he added. “We showed him some enchantment formulas that should help Shailiha’s system fend off the viper venom. He and the one called Aeolus are no doubt employing them at this moment. We can only hope that they are not too far beyond your wizard’s abilities. They will find them puzzling at the least, but we daren’t risk simplifying the enchantments too much, lest they become baffling and of no use at all. Because we were not privy to the workings of Failee’s original spell that created the Blood Vipers, we cannot ensure that our formulas will succeed. We also informed your Conclave that you reached us safely.”

  “And what of our two Black Ships and everyone still aboard them?” Tyranny asked. “Are they safe?”

  “Yes,” Hoshi answered, speaking in Tristan’s presence for the first time. Her voice had an alluring, smoky quality that he found attractive.

  “The ships and your people need to finish the journey here,” she added. “Because your forces would probably not obey us, one or more of you will have to return to the waiting ships to inform your crews. From there all your forces and your two ships can be brought here the same way that you were.”

  For the first time, Hoshi gave Tristan a smile. “My katsugai mosota are eager to learn whether your Minions of Day and Night are everything that our Oracle says they are,” she added.

  “Katsugai…mosota?” Tristan asked.

  “You have forgotten yourself, Hoshi,” Mashiro gently admonished. “We must remember to speak only the eastern dialect while among our guests.”

  Hoshi bowed. “My apologies, Jin’Sai,’ she said. “Katsugai mosota is the Shashidan phrase for ‘loyal warriors.’ They would rather commit suicide than face the shame of defeat or dishonor.”

  “I understand,” Tristan answered. “My Minions have sworn an oath that is much the same.” Interested in learning more, he decided to press a bit.

  “I have not seen your fighters in action,” he said, “but I’m sure that they are excellent. Even so, I find it hard to believe that they could easily overcome the Minions’ great tactical advantage.”

  Hoshi gave him a wry smile, showing that she appreciated his little boast. Undaunted, she leaned across the table.

  “You refer to the Minions’ powers of flight,” she answered.

  “I do,” Tristan answered.

  “A great advantage, to be sure,” she replied. “But can your warriors shoot a winging sparrow from the sky with a bow and arrow at two hundred meters and never miss? Can they perform the same feat with a thrown dagger, or accomplish both while riding a galloping horse? Are their hand-to-hand combat skills so good that they can easily kill an enemy with one blow while blindfolded?”

  For several moments Tristan was awestruck by Hoshi’s boasts, but then he understood. Nodding, he politely acknowledged what might be the Shashidan armies’ superior tactical advantage.

  “Do all your katsugai command the gift of K’Shari?” he asked.

  Realizing how quickly the Jin’Sai had uncovered the answer, Hoshi smiled again. “Only those with endowed blood,” she answered. “They are our army’s most elite warriors.”

  Leaning forward, Wigg laced his long fingers together. He was desolate over the loss of Abbey, but he also meant to master his emotions in this august company. His mind awash with questions, he looked at Mashiro.

  “Tell me,” he asked, his voice still brittle. “Do the Rustannicans also speak the Shashidan dialect?”

  “By and large, no,” Mashiro answered. “Our dialect has evolved far more than theirs during the aeons since Rustannica split away and became a rogue nation. And because so much time has passed, our cultures have evolved in strikingly different ways. However, most Rustannicans who hold positions of power are fluent in the Shashidan dialect.”

  “I suspected as much,” Wigg replied. “The wrecked ship we found held Rustannican skeletons and weapons. I was able to partly decipher some writing on one of the swords. It seems that they once used Blood Stalkers in their campaigns. Do they use them to this day?”

  “Yes,” Renjiro answered, “and with greater effectiveness than did the Coven of Sorceresses.”

  Tristan was immensely eager to learn all he could about Shashida and Rustannica, but he knew that the shocking news from home must take precedent. Looking around the table, he fixed his gaze on Mashiro.

  “We know who Khristos is,” he said. “But what we cannot understand is why he finally surfaced again after all this time. What does he hope to gain?”

  “At first his mission was solely to fulfill Failee’s mad need for revenge,” Renjiro answered. “She condemned him and her embryonic vipers to a river in Hartwick Wood to wait in silence until she called them forth. One droplet of left-leaning endowed blood entering the river was all that her spell needed to release her former lover and his fully evolved servants. Like Failee’s vicious Parthalonian Swamp Shrews, her vipers were to be a means of retribution against the Vigors wizards should she lose the war. But because the First Mistress is dead and Khristos now serves the Pon Q’tar, he hopes not only to destroy your Conclave and Minions, but to one day rule your side of the world. Unless he is stopped soon, that might well happen.”

  “What do you mean when you say that Failee condemned Khristos and the viper embryos to a river?” Tyranny asked. “Surely some body of water cannot be where they waited for three centuries, only to emerge now and wreak their havoc.”

  “Ah, but it was,” Kaemon answered. “With the permission of my fellow Inkai, allow me to tell you the tale. You will find it a fascinating one. Failee was nothing if not brilliant.”

  For the next hour Kaemon explained Failee’s search for vengeance and conquest, including the recent battle in Tammerland and Khristos’ attempt to steal one Black Ship and to destroy the other. When Kaemon finished, it was plain to see that Wigg, Tristan, and Tyranny were deeply troubled by the story. But it also explained many of the mysteries surrounding Khristos—not the least of which was his ability to hide from the Night Witches, only to suddenly emerge elsewhere to cause further mayhem.


  Determined to stop Khristos at any price, Tristan leaned over the table and looked at Mashiro. “Can the Inkai help my mystics in Eutracia defeat the Viper Lord?” he asked. “With so many Minions dead, Shailiha injured, and the Black Ships useless, their ability to stop him has been drastically curtailed. And although Faegan is an accomplished herbmaster, Abbey’s unique craft abilities will be sorely missed. If there is a way to help, we must do so.”

  “Although victory over Khristos cannot be certain, yes, we can help,” Hoshi said.

  “How did Khristos know that we were going to cross the Azure Sea?” asked Wigg. “He and his forces ambushed us there and we barely escaped with our lives.”

  “We can only surmise that the Pon Q’tar ordered him to attack you in that place,” Mashiro answered. “Most likely it was Gracchus who gave the order.”

  “Gracchus?” Tristan asked.

  Mashiro nodded. “As the lead Pon Q’tar cleric, he is my Vagaries counterpart in Rustannica.”

  “What about the Azure Sea itself?” Tristan asked. “Wigg and I were told by the half–Blood Stalker Ragnar that the sea was unexpectedly released when my son Nicholas further excavated the Caves. He was trying to capture the energy from the Paragon as part of his plan to raise the Gates of Dawn, and he nearly succeeded. Was Ragnar telling the truth?”

  “No,” another Inkai answered.

  Tristan looked to the right to recognize the woman who had been introduced as Tamika of the House of Green Forests. A row of green pine trees was embroidered on her white silk robe. Her long white hair had been wound atop her head with care, and black lacquered wooden sticks held it in place.

  “So Ragnar lied after all,” Tristan mused. “If that’s the case, was the Azure Sea always there?”

  “No,” Mashiro answered. “Just as the Rustannicans have their Borderlands, we have our Azure Sea.”

  “I don’t understand,” Tyranny said. “Do you mean to say that you created it?”

  “Yes,” the Inkai leader said. “The explanation is a long one, and it is probably best told later. For now, suffice it to say that when we inhabited all the lands that are now known as Eutracia, Parthalon, Rustannica, and Shashida, just after the sudden rising of what you call the Tolenka Mountains, we became landlocked here in the west. Then Rustannica split away to become a martial rogue nation. The Pon Q’tar conjured the Borderlands as a defense between our two warring states. Once the mountains rose, the Caves became the only way for someone east of the mountains to reach Shashida. And just as the Pon Q’tar felt the need to isolate Rustannica from Shashidan incursion, we needed a way to prevent those of left-leaning blood from using the Caves to invade Shashida from the east. You saw the rock walls rise from the Azure Sea because the water detected the sudden presence of so much high-quality right-leaning endowed blood. Part of the spell that we devised to conjure the sea also included the channel. If the azure water detects sufficient power of right-leaning blood, the walls rise and guide its owners to the rocky dead end where our portal can sense their presence and come to their aid. If the water detects left-leaning blood, rather than forming a channel to the dead end the walls also rise, but in that case they form a long, winding maze from which there is no escape. As the enemy is forced to endlessly sail the maze they eventually die from dehydration and starvation. Although the concept seems simple, its application was not, I assure you. The water did not detect Khristos’ left-leaning blood because unlike your group, he alone possessed it.”