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An Emperor's Fury: The Frayed Rope

Page 3

by Paul Heisel


  #

  Before them were long rolling hills dotted with wheat farms and orchards. This area of Waskhal was bountiful, apples and pears pulled branches closer to the ground than intended. The harvest would be plentiful this coming autumn. In the distance, Owori could see the workers picking any ripe fruit and dropping it into baskets. Caleth and she were on a hilltop that overlooked the area. It was an amazing sight. This lovely part of the Accord of the Hand Empire spread out in all directions and was a wondrous. The trees, fields, and hillsides were vibrant and alive. The city in the distance, just waking, was as breathtaking as their other surroundings. She recalled that Sabrin was twice as big as Waskhal, at least, and the other monastery-cities were just as populous. Including all the kingdoms who were their allies, forced or agreed, the counted empire was immense. It stretched far and wide.

  The breeze kicked up and blew across them, tossing Caleth’s long hair over his face. Owori was motionless, and the ribbons tied to her wrists flapped in the wind. Caleth pulled his hair out of his eyes and gave Owori a frail smile that hinted of worry. A terrible event had happened, she could feel it. What ill thing had befallen the Accord of the Hand? What was so awful that they had to speak where no one could hear them?

  “I received a private message from the Grand Master, Montishari Gatôn prior to this business with Borgard. Now that we’re moving beyond Borgard, we must revisit this other matter. Owori, there is discontent growing within the Accord of the Hand. The Grand Master suspects that one of our monasteries is delving too deeply into the magical arts. In Waskhal, we have found a few who can employ magic, as you can…and Feln could, sorry, can. You have become the elite warriors. There is suspicion that others have employed magic and it has been kept secret, but for what purpose we don’t know. Your story about what happened in Borgard castle all but confirms this suspicion.”

  “It does.”

  “You know the Accord teachings, philosophy, and attitudes are similar, all monasteries operate no differently than ours. Each monastery subscribes to similar routines, follows the orders of the Grand Master, and governs their physical area of the Empire as best able. The Grand Master believes that one or more monasteries want to leave the Empire, or worse, they are going to try to topple the Empire and rule it for themselves. Montishari Gatôn is concerned enough that he asked our help.”

  “He doesn't suspect the discontent is from Waskhal?”

  “No. As far as I know we aren't under suspicion.”

  “Feln,” Owori whispered. “This was going to be Feln’s assignment, wasn’t it?”

  “And you,” he added. Caleth swiped the hair away from his face one more time. “The Grand Master knows you and Feln are great scouts. Your use of magic has been kept secret and remains an advantage for us.”

  “As I told you, Kara suspects,” Owori said. “I denied of course, but she's convinced of it.”

  “I guess it couldn’t be helped, the Accord leadership was going to find out sooner or later what you can do. By now everyone could know about it.”

  “Kara will be discreet. The last thing she will do is bring attention to other magic in fear of exposing her own,” Owori said. “She will keep it to herself for now. Tell me, the Grand Master wants us to spy on Kara?”

  “You're correct. The Grand Master has asked me to gather information on what is going on in Bora. And Tyilip. Bora has obvious potential given what Kara can do, not to mention the offer that she made to you to train.”

  “What about Renk? Is there no suspicion there?”

  “Seveth is loyal to the Grand Master without question. There are no outrageous rumors of magic coming out of Renk and Waskhal, just Bora and Tyilip.”

  “Bora and Tyilip,” she echoed.

  “Without Feln it’ll be difficult to gather information on both monasteries. We’ll have to attempt one or the other. If Feln were here, I would just send one of you to Bora and the other to Tyilip.”

  “You’re sending me to Tyilip,” Owori said.

  “Why do you say that?”

  “It’s well known that Djaa wishes to take the Grand Master’s place, even though Seveth has already been designated as the Grand Master’s successor.”

  “My perception is Djaa wishes to split the Accord of the Hand apart,” said Caleth, nodding. “Tyilip would be a good place to start to see if there is any truth to these rumors.”

  “He has the most to gain by controlling the Accord of the Hand, doesn’t he?”

  “I agree. He does have the most to gain. If Seveth couldn’t serve as the next Grand Master, Djaa would be the likely candidate. When the time comes to choose a new Grand Master, I fear Djaa will secede from the Accord of the Hand if he isn't chosen. I’m not sure what Montishari will do if one of the monasteries left the Empire or declared independence.”

  “Civil war? Is that what he fears?”

  “Perhaps. Desertion by any monastery weakens the Accord of the Hand as an empire. We would be vulnerable to attack, that's for sure.”

  “When do I leave?”

  “Eager as always. Hear me out first. The monastery in Tyilip hasn’t caused the real concerns despite the rumors of splitting from the Accord of the Hand. Bora is most worrisome because of the rumors of magic use, secret buildings, and increased numbers of monks joining there. Kara has advanced the use of magic, that much is clear. Your conversation with her in Borgard all but confirms she has a secret training facility. We need to find out what Kara is doing and what her plans are. We must prevent her from executing those plans – particularly if they threaten the Empire or the Grand Master. I want you to go to Bora. I want you to find out what Kara is up to.”

  Her insides turned over and it took a moment for her to gather her thoughts. Yes, she had gone to other kingdoms posing as merchants and tradespersons, spied upon their leaders, and returned safely; but to spy upon an Accord of the Hand monastery and not be noticed would be dangerous, if not impossible. Owori gritted her teeth. This was a hopeless mission – she would be caught. Kara would suspect her immediately. There was only one way she could get into Bora and do as the Grand Master had asked, and that was to go against her initial objections and accept Kara’s invitation. She would have to become part of the secret she was trying to expose. That made it twice as dangerous for her.

  “I know it’ll be difficult for you,” he said, echoing her thoughts. “You’ll have to accept her invitation even though you don't get along.”

  “We didn’t part on the best terms and it will be hard for her to accept that I changed my mind so easily, particularly after returning home. We should come up with a story Kara would understand or sympathize with. I think she’s reckless, impulsive. For me to suddenly change my mind and be all warm and cozy with her would be suspicious. I need to be forced to go to Bora, to have nowhere else to turn.”

  “Kara is reckless as you say,” Caleth spoke, his gaze wandering across the hills. “Although Bora is prosperous, she has taken risks with her leadership that none of the other Seasons would have taken. She doesn’t mind gambling if it keeps working out for her. One day it’ll fall apart. Perhaps if you displayed the same recklessness, then she would respect you or in the least, take you in without further questions.”

  “What do you mean? How do I become reckless?”

  Caleth smiled. “Did you know that long before she became the head monk in Bora, Kara failed her tests to become a Dragonmaster?”

  “How could a monk as talented as her fail to become one of the Grand Master’s personal guards? She’s almost as accomplished as Feln with a katana.”

  “It wasn’t the physical tests, no, she had problems passing the written trials,” Caleth said. “To put it bluntly, she was trying to cheat. Well, that sounds a bit harsh now that I’ve said it. Kara tried manipulating the exam to make the outcome more beneficial for her. That’s a better way to put it. I don’t like calling anyone as powerful as Kara a cheat. I still must respect her position and what she’s accomplished. Besides it wa
s never proven, but it did prevent her from serving as a Dragonmaster.”

  “Are you suggesting I cheat?”

  “We might be thinking alike. Once we’ve demonstrated your recklessness, it would be opportune for you to move on to another monastery, as you won’t be welcome here.”

  “You’re asking me to sacrifice a lot. This is my home. I could never come back.”

  “If we don’t find out what is going on in Bora, none of us will have a home. I assure you, if you’re successful, your accomplishment won’t go unnoticed or unrewarded. Plus, it will be more convincing if you have no place to go. I'm sorry to put you in this uncomfortable position. If Feln were here, I would be putting him in a similar position as well.”

  “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

  “You always have a choice,” Caleth said. “I know you though, and you won’t back down from a challenge.”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “Once I’ve put the plan together, we’ll talk one last time. After that, we must not be seen together. I suspect we have spies in the ranks reporting to Kara or Djaa or both. We must be cautious once we have set the plan into motion.”

  “Understood.”

  “Shall we walk back?” he asked. “I need to send a message to the Grand Master.” Caleth motioned with his hands toward the city. The sun blazed away in the sky, casting shorter shadows as it moved higher in the clear, pale blue sky.

  “I’ll stay here for a while,” Owori said. “Feln and I used to come out here and look at the city.”

  “Take your time, but no more than is necessary.”

  Caleth walked away, his robe brushing against the grass. Soon he was lost in the hills, a speck appearing now and then as he walked back to the monastery. Owori reclined on the thick grass and stared up at the morning sky. She was nervous and anxious. To spy upon Kara would be an enormous challenge, and leaving Waskhal forever was frightening. What if the plan didn’t work? What if Kara turned her away? Where would she go then? She had an advantage, though, of Kara wanting her in Bora to learn about magic. She remained there another hour, staring at the sky and thinking about Feln. She missed him. It would be wonderful to have him next to her so they could stare up into the sky together. She imagined his hand intertwined with hers. They would just sit here, staring at the sky and talking about their future.

  That couldn’t happen now.

  All she had were memories.

  Owori hopped to her feet and sped across the hills, crushing the grasses as she ran. By the time the sun was at its apex, she was sitting with other monks taking the noon meal. That afternoon she spent training to sharpen every skill she had before she went on this adventure in Bora. Now it was just a matter of waiting for Caleth’s plan to unfold, whatever that was. Her only hope was that it would happen soon so she could get on with it.

  #

  Owori backed away. She could feel the sweat rolling from her exposed skin. Her ghi soaked up the rest, making it feel heavier than normal. Maybe it was the exhaustion or the fading adrenaline that caused her energy to wane. Beneath her feet, the wood floor creaked and moaned with each precise step. Once more she retreated, trying to find a better defensive position. The Dragonmaster attacked when he saw the panic on her face, pressing his advantage. She sprung the trap, slipped by his strike, and landed a stinging punch to his shoulder.

  The floor judge awarded the point to Owori. It was now tied. Both backed away to their respective areas. A moment later the floor judge pointed to the middle of the floor. There was no time for either combatant to rest. Both were tired, yet they wouldn’t stop until one had prevailed. Advancement for consideration of Dragonmaster was both mentally and physically taxing. All potential protectors to the Grand Master had to pass the trials and show loyalty, ability, and intelligence. This last test was a fight with one of the Dragonmasters to prove their ability to defend the Grand Master.

  They danced opposite each other, mirroring movements. For every advance there was a retreat, for each sidestep there was a complementary one. Though tired, Owori still had energy in reserve. She could feel her magic gathering and she used it to bolster her strength. It occurred to her she could disappear, move behind the Dragonmaster, and attack him. That would disqualify her for sure and bring about more questions. She had to stick to the plan Caleth had devised. She had to win this fight with her hands and fists, otherwise their plan would fall apart before it could begin. She had to win or all would be lost.

  They traded blows, all blocked, no one gaining an advantage. Retreat and circle, retreat and circle were repeated many times. Briefly Owori caught sight of the panel judging them, five monks of various ranks, and she wondered if they had any knowledge of what she was really doing, and all for the collective good of the Accord of the Hand. The Dragonmaster came at her again, this time nearly landing a successful blow. Only Owori’s quickness kept him from winning the match and dashing her hopes of becoming one of the Dragonmasters. The panic this time was real.

  Her magic took over without warning.

  It was like a jolt.

  Owori moved, kicked her opponent, and it was over.

  Just like that.

  Sprawled on the ground was the Dragonmaster, head shaking, stunned by the invisible blow. The five judges glanced at each other. The floor judge awarded the point to Owori after a short delay. The Dragonmaster sat up, pleading with the judges, saying that he had avoided the blow, that the kick missed him, and he wasn’t sure what knocked him over. They denied his appeal and confirmed the result, awarding Owori the point and the match. The combatants bowed and walked out of the room to leave the judges to their final duty of confirming her as one of the Dragonmasters. Owori hurried away, not sure how she had struck the Dragonmaster without touching him. She departed quickly, she didn't want to answer any questions, and she wanted to get out of her fighting clothes. There would be a short ceremony and an induction later that evening. In a month, she would report to Sabrin to take on her new position. She washed and donned her robes, then returned to her room. No one questioned why she had packed already for a trip that would occur in four weeks’ time.

  #

  When Caleth brought forth evidence that Owori had used assistance to pass the written tests, the monastery leadership accused her of dishonest behavior in obtaining the title of Dragonmaster. The leaders of the monastery were shocked, even Caleth expressed his disappointment that one of their most promising monks had cheated. This called for punishment. Caleth, despite Owori's previous exemplary service, recommended expulsion from the monastery as this sort of behavior couldn't be tolerated. It would happen with immediate effect and was accelerated by an angry Caleth. Owori denied the allegations, and when she was called before the Dragonmaster judges and the leadership, she told them it wasn't true. There was a misunderstanding. Caleth insisted on her guilt, presented the evidence from the test's proctor, and asked for the rest of the leaders to accept his recommendation of expulsion. Not all of them wanted her punished so harshly, but in the end, there were enough votes to have her expelled. Monks escorted her from the monastery.

  Owori accepted that this was the only way she could sever her ties with Waskhal convincingly enough to get her into Bora. True, it would mar her for life – those that knew her would think less of her, but it was for the greater good of the Accord of the Hand. It was her sacrifice to keep the Empire together, and if things were as bad as she imagined then it would be worth it. Once her investigation of Kara was complete, she was to report to Sabrin. There the Grand Master would pardon her, he agreed, and then her future would be guarding the Grand Master as a true Dragonmaster. That didn’t sound so bad. Outside of town, she looked back upon the lights of Waskhal, feeling a pang of loss. This had been her home for so long. Her parents had died here and they were buried on monastery grounds. Now she could never go back. Ever. Waskhal would be a memory to her.

  It was a long trip to Bora by foot. All her possessions, her weapons, Feln's diary, and a few trinket
s from her mother and father, were all strapped to her body, nestled in bags and stuffed in her pack. Traveling alone on the road gave her time to think and plan. She would have to be convincing to have Kara accept her. The intrigue of learning about her tattoos was in the back of her mind too, and she had to be careful not to muddle her reasons for going to Bora.

  Why did she have tattoos? She didn’t know why, nor did she remember much of her parents who were the only ones that could explain them to her. Her early memories were of a foreign temple, but she wasn’t sure what the connection was. It was a squat, single story square structure made of wood with golden decorations. The entrance looked like the temples the Accord of the Hand had inherited from their ancestors. The most identifiable part of the temple was two stout wooden poles set into the earth, with a horizontal piece on the top. Her parents had told her that they had lived near this temple when she was small, and a short time after her third birthday they had moved from a distant place to Waskhal. By the age of five both of her parents had died of a sickness that had killed thousands within Waskhal. Somehow she was spared. She wished she could remember more. No matter what she tried, she couldn’t piece together enough to draw any conclusions about her distant past.

  This growing threat within the Accord of the Hand made her worry about what she was going to find in Bora. Kara could use fire, just like she could use her magic to blink. What if there were others who could use fire? She imagined a premier fighting force directed by Kara, marching into battle and destroying soldiers with columns of fire or torching buildings from a distance. No wonder the Grand Master was concerned. Having that power without responsibility and oversight would be precarious, even dangerous for the Accord of the Hand.

  The days wore on as she traveled farther away from Waskhal and the prospect of unraveling several mysteries inspired her. This next part of her life was all she had. Feln was gone, still missing and presumed dead. Part of her held on to hope that he was still alive, out there somewhere, but as the days went by she became more discouraged. How could he vanish into thin air and not return? She wondered, was his magic responsible for his disappearance? Maybe training in Bora would help her understand that.

 

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