Turesobei relaxed and stripped. Then he slid into the lilac-scented water. After a few minutes of soaking and breathing in the rising steam, he scrubbed himself off. Then he rested the back of his neck on the edge of the tub and dozed for a while. He woke up and noticed the water was tepid. He ducked his head under and scrubbed. When he came back up, he noticed bits of dust and trash floating in the water. He'd thought he'd cleaned his hair out well several times already, but apparently not. He was perfectly clean now, though, for the first time since he'd left.
Imi and Shurada had also left apple juice and rice cakes out for him. He ate them lying on his sleeping pallet while his body dried. Afternoon sunlight filtered in through the paper-paneled window above him and illuminated his room. Just having the familiar setting around him gave him comfort. He enjoyed his wall-scrolls depicting heroic battles in old Tengba Ren, sorcerous triumphs of his ancestors, and illustrations of the seven planets of the solar system.
After dozing again, he saw the sun descending and knew he should go check on Iniru before they had to meet the king. Languidly, he got up, summoned Lu Bei so he would have someone to chat with for distraction, and then dressed in formal robes. They were a silvery grey, almost a copy of his normal apprentice uniform except for a crimson sash and a Chonda Goshawk carrying a wizard's scroll on the left breast. They were finer made, too. He had only two nicer robes, which were for even more formal occasions.
“Lu Bei, return to your book form. You’re coming with me. I may need you.”
“Of course, master. Best to always have me around, I should think.”
Turesobei dropped by Enashoma's room and tapped on the sliding door. He heard laughing inside so he tapped harder. “Come in,” his sister called, and he entered cautiously. As soon as they were in sight, he stopped in mid-step and his jaw dropped.
“Well, what do you think?” asked Iniru, and she spun around to show off her borrowed outfit.
“It's…it’s great.”
The two girls exchanged smiles and Turesobei began to fear for his sanity. They were getting along far too well, far too quickly.
“It's one of Mother's old riding outfits,” said Enashoma. “Iniru refused to wear proper robes.”
“K'chasans never dress like that,” Iniru said sternly. “Besides, this is far richer clothing than any I've ever worn before.”
The outfit was stunning on her, though it was not as tight as her qengai uniform. The pants were a soft doeskin and the top was silk with loose arms. It made her look dignified. The rust-colored silk brought out the reddish highlights in her grey-brown fur and reflected brightly off the amber in her eyes. Her mahogany mane, which had grown out some over the last two weeks, hung loose, curling back about her ears. Usually she kept it pinned in the back.
Turesobei said timidly, “It really does look good on you.”
She smiled girlishly and stared at the floor. “Thanks, Turesobei.”
Enashoma's smile vanished, and she chastised Turesobei. “You've been friends with her for how long now and you haven't told her she could call you Sobei?”
“Er, well, it just never came up.”
“Call him Sobei,” Enashoma said to Iniru. “And if you're a friend of his, you're a friend of mine, so you can call me Shoma.”
Iniru laughed. “My pleasure, Shoma. You can call me Niru if you like. And if he wants, tell your brother he's welcome to call me that as well.”
Turesobei blushed. He stared at her deeply and said softly, “Niru.”
“Sobei,” she replied.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Enashoma raise an eyebrow. She was quick-witted and it didn't take much for her to figure things out. Or make assumptions that weren't quite right.
“Well,” he said quickly, “why don't I show you around? We've got about an hour before we have to meet King Ugara for tea. Shoma, would you like to join us?”
“I think I would.” As they left the room, she whispered in his ear. “Are you going to take her to meet Awasa?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. “
“Well, promise I can be there if you do.”
He scowled at her, and she giggled furiously.
Chapter Forty-Two
Fully armored guards led Turesobei, Iniru, and Onudaka into King Ugara’s formal gardens. Both his companions were amazed by the artificial ponds, streams, and waterfalls spaced throughout the area of carefully tended shrubs, vines, and trees. Four shrines to the Great Deities sat tucked away in four different bamboo thickets. A vermilion gate stood over the start to each path. A gazebo on an island in the middle pond was the main attraction, and they knelt beside a table there and waited for the interview.
After a few minutes, King Ugara arrived along with Lord Kahenan in his official role as High Wizard. Ugara wore a formal silk robe of crimson with a silver goshawk emblazoned on the back. His inner robes were black and white. Kahenan wore his emerald surcoat over a grey robe not unlike the one Turesobei was wearing. Swords hung from the waists of both men. Turesobei and his companions had entered unarmed, as required when entering the king’s presence, though he suspected Iniru had at least one weapon hidden somewhere.
No one else joined them, though guards stood all around the garden's edge. King Ugara had heightened the palace's security and put the entire town on watch for Haisero and Sotenda. Once everyone had exchanged formal bows and greetings, servants brought steaming bowls of green tea flavored with jasmine blossoms. Iniru seemed dubious about being served by others. Onudaka was downright frightened. He had never been treated this way in his life.
King Ugara noticed how daintily Iniru sipped at her bowl of tea and how Onudaka was afraid to touch the biscuits they had brought. He smiled warmly, “We do not concern ourselves overmuch with manners here. We expect our guests to eat and converse in whatever manner they are accustomed.”
Onudaka blushed and half-bowed. “Thank you, your majesty.”
“Think nothing of it. Now, on to business. Turesobei, why don't you tell us what happened? From the very beginning, please.”
“About the trip as well, or just what happened to Father?”
“Everything,” said Grandfather Kahenan. “Something unimportant to you may be important to us.”
“Besides,” said King Ugara as he slurped unceremoniously at his tea, “I like travel stories. I don't get to travel myself anymore.”
Turesobei thought of the adventurous Chonda spirit and decided Chonda Lu’s descendants carried his legacy well.
Before he could begin telling an accurate description of the journey, though, there was another matter, something King Ugara knew nothing about. “Grandfather, Lu Bei….”
“Ah, yes,” said Lord Kahenan. “I don’t think you need trouble the king about him….”
“Perhaps I should be the one to decide that, old friend,” King Ugara said. “Who is this Lu Bei?”
“A pet of Turesobei’s,” Lord Kahenan began. “A most unusual construct of sorcery. Very difficult magic that Turesobei was able to achieve using the text from an old book he found. He quite surprised me with it.”
Fumbling, Turesobei added to the lie, “The creature turned out to be a little help to us along the way, your majesty. Nothing of great importance, though.”
“I see,” said the king. “Go on then.”
Turesobei began with his description of arriving in Batsa and then of boarding the Little Goddess. He told of sailing and getting to know his father better, which made Kahenan smile. He told of the pirates and their decision to sail through the demon-haunted pass, and he didn't leave out a single detail of the fight.
“And I swear that it's all true.”
“Sobei!” Kahenan exclaimed, beaming with pleasure, “you did exceptionally well. I am heartened that I made you prepare a demon-banishment beforehand. I almost did not.”
“I'm grateful, Grandfather. In fact, I used nearly all the spells you had me script in advance.”
“Then you learned an ess
ential lesson about preparation and survival. It is the most important lesson a wizard should learn beyond the basic techniques of casting.”
King Ugara seemed delighted with the story as well. “The future of the Chonda is well in hand. Our next High Wizard will certainly exceed our current's considerable capabilities.”
Turesobei blushed, even more so when Kahenan said, “You are right, of course, your majesty. I could not have managed what Sobei did when I was his age. I am hard on him, but it is only because he is obviously far more talented than anyone else.”
To spare himself further embarrassment, Turesobei returned to his story and told of waking up in Wakaro and resting before their departure. He covered in detail how he'd spotted someone following them and how the Storm Cult had ambushed them. “I was unconscious when I hit the water, so my body was relaxed. I probably would've drowned after that if not for Onudaka.”
Onudaka shook his head. “It was sheer luck, my lords. Nothing grand on my part. He fell right near me. I plucked him out and tended his arrow wound. Nothing to it. Something I've done a thousand times.”
“Then Onudaka helped me back up the cliff.”
“I was tracking down my brother, Sotenda, to stop him if I could.”
“That was when they met me,” Iniru said.
“Your Sacred Codex sent you to help them?” King Ugara asked.
“Yes, your majesty. To help a young baojendari rescue his father, to help an old zaboko medic oppose his brother, and to aid them against the Storm Cult. That was the directive I was given.”
“And you think this mission is not yet complete?”
“The leaders of the cult remain. Besides, Turesobei and Onudaka are friends, and I won't desert them until I've seen them through this.”
“That is well,” said the king.
“You believe in the Sacred Codex, your majesty?” Iniru asked.
“I have never seen reason not to.”
“And you also trust that I’m telling you the truth.”
“Is there a reason I should not trust you?”
“No, your majesty, none at all.”
“Good. So what happened next?”
Turesobei drew in a deep breath and continued. “We closed on the cultists' citadel, but we encountered their guardians, the Bogamaru Sengi.”
Grandfather Kahenan's eyes drew wide. “How on earth did Haisero bind them? He is only an apprentice. I could not manage such a feat after a year of preparation.”
“He used crude blood magic and he stole the Bogamaru Regiment Statue to do it.”
“That is still quite a feat.”
“The spell was messy. I broke it easily. He is talented, though. Strong but not diligent, I would say. I fear he intended to use the sengi as an army against his enemies.”
Turesobei went over how they befriended the sengi and got their help in attacking the citadel. With tears in his eyes, he struggled through how his father had died to save him.
“He loved you more than he desired the heart,” Kahenan said solemnly. “He was a good man, though misguided.”
Then they told all the rest about how they had assaulted the cultists at the vault and barely escaped alive.
“At least you wounded the bastard,” King Ugara growled. “This is just what we need, the Gawo wielding a super-weapon.” He shook his head. “Well, I am very impressed with you, Turesobei. I may have more questions for you later. But for now, I need to think on all of this and speak with my advisors.”
“What should I do now, my lord?” Turesobei said. “I want to continue after Haisero.”
Grandfather Kahenan said, “You are going to rest and then I am going to examine this mark on your cheek. As for chasing after the enemy, I do not know what task I might give you. You are, after all, only an apprentice. We have trained wizards and soldiers to deal with such problems.”
“But this is my problem! It's my vow that must be fulfilled. You can't tell me I'm not going to help, that I can't finish what I started!”
“I will tell you whatever I wish, and you will obey!”
Turesobei looked to the king with desperation, finding no help at all. “You will do,” Ugara said with a frown, “as your master desires. For now, just be patient. We have to sort this matter out. Divinations should be made, plans drawn up. If Haisero is with the Gawo now, we cannot simply charge after him. That could easily start a war. Rest for now and we will decide your role in this. I promise that we will give you as large a role as we think is appropriate.”
“What about my friends, my lord?”
“They are free to do as they wish as long as they act responsibly and realize that an action against the Gawo by them could bring war on us.”
King Ugara stood and nodded to them. All of them bowed low. Grandfather Kahenan rose and the two men departed. Once they were gone, Turesobei cursed. “It's not fair at all.”
Onudaka patted him on the arm. “It'll work out. Be patient.”
“Aye,” said Iniru. Her expression showed that she felt sorry for Turesobei. She was probably sorry that he was just a boy. It was clearer now more than ever that in the eyes of his people he was not yet a man. It was probably clear in her eyes now, too.
“We need rest,” she said, “and after your father's funeral, I can start scouting around and see what I can find out. If I don't want to be seen, no Gawo will detect me. Your family will come around, I think. Especially since that tattoo is not likely to come off unless you play a part in avenging your father's death.”
Turesobei nodded, but sulked nonetheless. He didn't have her optimism; he knew how the clan worked. Adolescents were simply not allowed dangerous missions. They had made one exception for him already and it had nearly gotten him killed. They couldn’t risk losing their next high wizard.
* * *
The traditional baojendari funeral for Noboro began just before dark on the next evening. Baojendari guests wearing stark white robes and crimson ribbons massed within the funeral garden. Behind them stood a few dozen zaboko wearing white robes, those few who cared to see off a baojendari adventurer who'd led zaboko guards to their deaths in a faraway land.
Dark clouds gathered on the horizon, forming what they expected to be a typical rainstorm. Colored paper lanterns hung in the trees all around. Their flames flickered as the lights swayed in the mountain-descending breeze. Noboro's body, draped in a red shroud, lay atop a wooden platform. In the tower's center were mounds of brushwood, straw, and cedar branches. Surrounding the tower, Shogakami priests in robes of autumn gold chanted prayers for the dead to the beat of thunderous drums.
The drum rhythms picked up, and a sword dance began. The dancers whirled. Their flowing ribbons snapped behind them as they danced. Twirl and stomp, snap and glide. And after several minutes they finished with one great stomp.
King Ugara stood and gave a speech. He praised Noboro's accomplishments and wished him well on his journey through the afterlife.
Turesobei shed no tears during the funeral, though others who had known his father did. All his grieving was done. The funeral, in fact, brought him relief. He was happy that his father had received the proper rites after he'd worked so hard to see him back home. The journey to and from Wakaro was complete, even if Yomifano and the Storm Dragon's Heart remained with Gawo Haisero.
High Wizard Kahenan stepped forward with a flaming brand. “And now,” he announced, “I shall send this man of the Chonda, my son, into those realms walked only by the dead. We wish him well.”
Kahenan placed the torch into the kindling beneath the tower and stepped back. A choir of young maidens sang a mournful chantey, followed by a rousing victory anthem sung by a group of young warriors. The Shogakami priests said their final prayers to the Shogakami and the Great Deities. Then the ritual was done.
Most people stood and watched the fire burn. Very few left. Funerals such as this didn't happen often. Noboro was a knight of the clan and the son of the High Wizard, and therefore ranked high among the n
obility. No expense had been spared. But soon, clouds covered the sky above so that the grey column of smoke looked like a pillar supporting them. A strong breeze began, and tiny drops of rain pelted the earth. The rain couldn't stop the cremation, though. The body and the wood had been soaked with oil.
As the rain fell harder, people began to depart. Turesobei stood beside Enashoma and Wenari. Nearby Kahenan, King Ugara, and Prince Chien were sheltered under a set of umbrellas. According to tradition, neither the king nor the prince could leave until the body had burned entirely. Servants brought the rest of the family umbrellas, and Turesobei invited Iniru and Onudaka to join them. Neither spoke, but simply stayed nearby to give Turesobei comfort.
Wenari cried gentle tears. Enashoma snuggled up against Turesobei. He put his arm around her and hugged her warm body. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Awasa and her parents departing the funeral.
Peals of thunder rolled across the distant hills like drums of the gods. The rain fell harder, pouring down across them, washing away their grief. The pyre burned and the ashes of Chonda Noboro washed into the ground while his essence rose into the dark sky. His body returned to the earth, and his soul began its journey into the mysterious lands of death.
Chapter Forty-Three
Turesobei sat across from his grandfather in the tower workroom.
“Now,” said Lord Kahenan. “Tell me what you had to leave out for the king. What part did the fetch play in all this?”
“Why didn’t you tell him the truth about Lu Bei?”
Kahenan smiled slightly. “Our king has many responsibilities. It is not always best to trouble him with complicated matters of wizardry that do not directly affect the welfare of the people or his duties as a ruler. I did not think it was worth the effort to explain it all to him. Not at this time.”
Storm Phase Series: Books 1-3 Page 22
