by Paul Heisel
“I’m sure Hiru will have a different accounting of the event,” the Emperor said.
“My guess is Hiru already sent you his report by raven, implicating me in Chang's murder. I tried to save him.”
The Emperor didn't say anything additional, nor did he move.
“Let me tell you about what happened. Let me tell you the truth of the matter at hand.”
The Emperor motioned toward another area where there were comfortable seats and small tea tables. As they walked to the seats, he rang a bell. Servants brought steaming bowls of tea to them, the aroma laced with orange and spice. After they settled in and the servants departed, Feln began to speak. He made sure he didn’t tell the complete story, as he didn't trust the Emperor at all. At least, he thought, that snake Yan wasn't here to twist his words.
#
“Why am I here?” Feln asked. This question, he was certain, wouldn’t take the Emperor or the Warlord by surprise. He hadn’t told the full story of his travels, as he had the distinct impression the Emperor wanted something from him other than a confession. The advice of the gardener stayed in the back of his mind. He realized now it was good advice; he wouldn’t agree to anything. The dynamics unfolded in front of him as he watched the Warlord and Emperor, son and father. Feln’s trained eye saw that the Emperor made all the decisions, no matter what the perceived power of the Warlord was. The Warlord’s jaw flexed every-so-often as if he had a different view of things, but he wouldn’t express his opinion. The Emperor was painting a picture for Feln, telling him how divided the lands were, but not at war, just little skirmishes over borders, resources, trade, and pockets of land. The political balance of Pyndira was equal at present, with only Safun undeclared in allegiances. This was because they lacked a leader, as the belt had been lost when Feln’s mother had disappeared.
“We ask that you pledge Safun’s allegiance to the Emperor, and join us by announcing an alliance. You should be honored by this offer.”
Feln finished his cool tea, noting the bitter leaves as they stuck to his tongue. He pinched out what he could and scraped it on the side of the bowl, resisting the urge to spit out the remainder. It was unclear if they would think him rude if he did that. “I can’t form an alliance,” Feln said as his heart pumped harder. “You know I’m in an awkward position and agreeing to this without careful consideration would be irresponsible of me.” He paused and looked at the two men. “Do you think I’m from Pyndira?”
The Emperor’s expression didn’t change and he stared forward at Feln. The Warlord shook his head while his eyes darted from Feln to his father, waiting for one or the other to speak.
“No,” the Emperor spoke. “You are from Malurrion. We know there are people who travel to and from that world. Though I don’t know why. I hear it is depleted and used, a wasteland on the brink of further decline.”
“Then you know the obstacles I face coming from such a desolate and pitiful place. Pyndira is wondrous to me and I'm in awe of its beauty. I haven’t been to Safun yet to consult with my advisors. I need to get caught up before I make any important decisions.”
“I understand why you hesitate,” the Emperor said slowly, drawing out his words. “Still, I’m asking you to decide.”
“I don’t have enough information to make a decision, and forcing me to would not bode well for you. This offer of yours has soured my mood.”
“Strong words from an inexperienced Most Favored. Be mindful of who you are talking to.” The Emperor shifted in his seat. “We didn’t know that you would be from Malurrion. But we suspected it given your mother's history.”
The words of the gardener echoed in his head, not to agree to anything, but obey any order given. It wasn't right to say yes to the Emperor’s request, and he didn't know what an alliance would obligate his family to do. “I won’t agree to an alliance. I don't know what it means for my people or for Pyndira. Sadly, I must decline your generous offer.”
The declination and his tone agitated the Emperor. “I will give you the opportunity to answer again in the positive.”
“No.”
“So you reject our offer of a political alliance?”
“I will not agree to anything. I’m at a disadvantage. As far as I know, this alliance will not be endorsed by my family. Don’t coerce me into a decision. It will only irritate me further.”
“Perhaps you should take your leave then,” the Emperor said, “so you can conquer your disadvantages and consult with your advisors who will tell you to make an alliance with the Emperor's family. When they advise you of your transgressions and you come back to me, there will be no forgiveness. There will be punishment for you and penalties your family. And this matter with Chang, guilty or not, there will be additional laws enacted to counter the power the Most Favored of your family wields. Chang's death put me in an awkward position.” He and the Warlord stood up.
Feln came to a standing position, his anger simmering. “Despite your unreasonable demands, I will thank you for speaking with me. I will also thank you for Sli’s intervention. Had he not been pursuing the belt, I would be dead now, wrongfully punished for Chang’s death. I’m glad I got to tell you the truth. More lies will be coming from Hiru, I promise you that. Whatever else he has decided to do, either to accuse me or discredit me, is underway.”
The slightest of smiles came from the Emperor. He knew something else was going to come of all of this.
“You may leave, Most Favored of Safun. Return to your manor and remain there until I summon you. Should I need to speak with you again, I will send a carriage for you, the one with the lacquered panels you love so much. When you get to your manor house, I suggest you send a message to Safun and get your advisors here quickly. You aren’t going anywhere without my permission, and you will not leave until you agree to an alliance with my family.”
#
At the entrance to the palace, there were dozens of people trying to get an audience with the Emperor or his court. Nobles and businessmen pleaded their case to the administrators, who in turn gave the stated request consideration. Feln exchanged his red placard for his weapons and slipped out the front, his eyes set squarely on the carriage that had brought him here. He wasn’t sure what to make of the conversation he had with the Emperor and the stoic Warlord, it seemed too short to him. Was this simply another test? They had asked him to join an alliance that he knew nothing about, hoping he would take the offer because he wasn't familiar with Pyndira's political landscape. What worried him was the accusation from Hiru and the Emperor's smug smile. He was being blamed for Chang's death, but it made him wonder, why was he free? Why wouldn't they take him into custody and hold him for trial? He figured Hiru sent the information to the Emperor, hoping to disrupt any truth he would tell. There had to be a more formal accusation coming, the difficult part was determining what that would be, and when would it take place. He felt relieved that the meeting was over, but from it came more questions. He noted the Emperor had been less than willing to indulge him with information.
Feln realized he was standing on the top of the steps, gazing over the wide-open space while he thought about the meeting. People brushed by him. Some chided him, asking him to get out of the way. He was about to start down the steps when a hand touched his shoulder.
“May I have a word with you?”
Feln turned to the rumbling voice. It was the Warlord of Pyndira. He was dressed in plain robes and wore a commoner’s straw hat, the wide brim casting a shadow across his face. The disguise was a good one. It was obvious he had done this before.
“Of course,” Feln responded, curious why this hadn’t taken place in the presence of the Emperor.
“We can take a walk around the grounds and talk without interruption,” the Warlord said.
Feln looked at him again, noticing the Warlord had a blade sheathed on his back. It had to be a katana because of the handle, but the battered sheath was too wide – fashioned to make the sword look as if it was a thick blade w
ith a curve at the end. “How about we go into the city?” Feln asked. Neutral ground where we both can feel vulnerable.
The Warlord smiled. “That’s a good idea.”
“Do I address you as Warlord?” Feln regretted his tone and bit his tongue.
The Warlord didn't take offense and slapped Feln on the shoulder. He shook his head. “Call me Yuki. If you call me Warlord outside of these walls, who knows what would happen. The common people have never seen my face in association with the Warlord.” He sighed. “It’s complicated. Perhaps I can explain.”
“You don’t go into the city?”
“Only dressed as I am now, and those few people who know me believe I’m a common laborer. The palace can be suffocating at times. You should have seen me when I was a child. I was always trying to find an excuse to go to the city and escape this dull place. Father wouldn't let me explore, more so after my mother died.”
“So, what would you like to do? Walk around the streets?”
“Let’s get an ale or two. It’ll be midday soon. Come, I’ll lead the way. I know a few places that aren’t too upscale, but no so rough that we'd end up in a fight. We’ll fit in dressed as we are. I'm glad you didn't show up in a Xialao uniform.”
They left the palace on foot, quite a walk to the bustling part of the city, but it was pleasant in the mid morning sun. Yuki took quick strides and walked at a fluid pace; he was accustomed to getting to places quickly. Feln was slightly taller and had a longer stride. They were making good progress and they didn’t speak to each other until they were outside of the walls. Yuki talked about several choices for ale, depending on what Feln liked, or they could go to an inn and eat as well. Although he was suspicious of his intent, Feln was comfortable with Yuki. His manner was disarming, so much so that Yuki felt like an old friend. He wondered then, shouldn’t he be more cautious?
The city was busy with normal activities, and they walked far enough to get out of the wealthier parts of town. Businesses, stores, markets, and neighborhoods were scattered throughout large defined areas, the attendance of the public places by the masses was staggering. Any one of Amuyakin's outlying suburbs was as large as a Feln's home, Waskhal. After traveling a sufficient distance away from the palace, Yuki began looking for a place. The first tavern they came to, The Broken Oar, was full, as was the next, The Tall Tumblers. They finally found a table in the common room of an inn called the White Fox. It was a shabby place that had seen better days, but not falling apart. The wood structure was two stories high, long and narrow, with an eating room and drinking area to the front. Kitchens were in the back and a small amount of accommodation was upstairs. Yuki ordered bowls of ale and paid the barmaid with a silver coin, returned to the table, sat down, and leaned back in his chair.
“Thanks for coming with me,” Yuki said. His eyes wandered from Feln and scanned the room, then went back to Feln.
“Something wrong?”
Yuki gave a slight head shake. “My Furies. They’ve followed us here, even though I asked them not to do so on this occasion. They’ll look after us.”
Feln raised an eyebrow. He could only imagine what a Fury would do to protect the second most powerful man in Pyndira. With two Furies, it would be a bloodbath.
The ale arrived via an overworked barmaid dressed in bright multicolored silks. Others were wearing similar outfits, but he didn’t know what the theme was or if they were wearing a required uniform. The place was alive and loud, a contrast to the indifferent and silent palace, and he thought he understood why Yuki sought excitement beyond the secure walls. Feln relaxed, sitting back, as he felt comfortable here in the open, in public. The two men toasted their good fortune. Feln tried to find the Furies, but couldn’t determine who they were. They would have tattoos, wouldn’t they? “They blend in well,” Feln said.
“Indeed. That’s their job when I’m away from the palace. They cover their tattoos.”
Feln sipped his ale and watched the room. There were all types here, few had weapons, most did not. There were laborers, businessmen, and what looked to be a couple of harlots working the crowd. The militia came and went, not lingering as there was no trouble. Yuki was watching everything as well, taking in the inn’s energy.
“You must have many questions,” Yuki said. “I know I would.”
“Many. First we need to get business out of the way. Why are we here?”
Yuki smiled. “You’re making this difficult for me.”
“Why is this difficult?”
He swayed in his chair and cast a glance across the room as if he expected someone to shout 'it's the Warlord of Pyndira!' His eyes settled on Feln. “Understand that I am two people. Firstly,” he leaned forward and whispered, “I’m the Warlord.”
“But you’re also Yuki, son of the Emperor.”
He nodded in agreement. “True. You’re making this difficult because I like you. You are nothing like what I expected.”
“What does the Emperor want? What do you want?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want. The Emperor is the Emperor, and he wants an alliance.” His voice lowered. “The Warlord of Pyndira’s influence on everyday matters is limited and his power is separate from the Emperor. You must realize that.”
“You have me at a great disadvantage. I’m not from here. You’ll have to explain more of this to me so I understand.”
“I will do my best to indulge your curiosity in the short time we have. History has shown, and proven, that the Warlord’s true power is to unite the seven provinces to fight off our enemies. Only then is the Warlord at his best. Only then does he have more power than the Emperor. There hasn’t been a barbarian invasion for a long time, centuries, so the Warlords, my predecessors of recent times, have all been political animals first, generals second. I’m probably the first Warlord in a century, though, who has little interest in politics.”
Feln thought back to what Iristi said about the Warlord. She described him as being a ruthless killer unmatched in battle. Yuki didn’t fit that description, at least the ruthless killer part. He wasn’t sure about his fighting skills, but he assumed he would be talented. “So why have a Warlord?”
“When the barbarians return or new threats arise, it’s my duty to unite the lands under one banner, the Emperor’s banner, and defend our lands. All squabbles are put aside to fight the invaders. The families would become united against our enemies, and heed my orders. It’s the law. Only I can declare this unity, and it supersedes any edict from the Emperor. The other reason for a Warlord is to have a commander of the Emperor’s substantial army.”
“The Emperor doesn’t control the army that protects his home?”
“It keeps the Emperor from doing…whatever he wants. It’s a form of balance, as he rules over the Most Favoreds, hence the entire realm of Pyndira. He has enough power and doesn't need to have thousands of troops to invade at a whim.”
“What about Furawa attacking Emesia? Kojo invaded and kill hundreds, thousands of innocents. You won’t do anything about that?”
Yuki recoiled from the statement, but his verbal response was opposite to the sour look on his face. “Small disagreements or occasional skirmishes between the families are not the concern of the Warlord, unless it directly threatens the Emperor or Pyndira collectively. Then, and only then, would I get involved.”
“So the fact that Kojo destroyed a town and murdered hundreds, captured my traveling companion, sent his Fury to kill me, and set up camp to eventually invade other cities in Emesia doesn’t bother you?”
Yuki looked down at the table, searching for the right answer. “It bothers me,” he said, voice low and steady. “It’s not my job to police the families. My job is to prepare Pyndira for war if when the time comes. The Emperor’s army is ready always to fend off this threat, real or imagined. We are ever vigilant.”
“So the Emperor lets his subjects fight and kill each other? What are these laws that you speak of?”
“You’re oversimplifying
matters. There are political reasons for letting the squabbles continue, I won’t deny that. The Emperor has his likes and dislikes when it comes to the Most Favoreds, and that’s only part of the reason he doesn’t interfere. There’s one crucial aspect of this that you don’t understand. It has finally dawned on me why you are so confused. You're from Malurrion.”
Feln clenched his jaw at the tone of Yuki’s apparent condescending statement. “What don’t I understand because I'm not from Pyndira?”
“Your family is responsible for making sure the other families stay in line. Your family is supposed to keep order amongst the provinces and hand out punishments to those who disobey. When your mother was here, Kojo wouldn’t have dared to harass Emesia. The punishment would have been…harsh.”
“Is this why the Emperor wants an alliance with me?”
Yuki drank his ale. Feln had to wait for an answer.
“The alliance is a political move. Safun, traditionally, has been neutral in alliances. There have been times in the past where Safun has joined an alliance to upset the balance of power, or simply put fear into the opposing families. An alliance can be complicated, but not necessarily a bad thing.”
“You thought I would agree to an alliance because I’m inexperienced and I don’t know about Pyndira. You were going to take advantage of me.”
“That I can’t deny. The Xialao family’s Most Favored has been gone for such a long time that we concluded your mother had left Pyndira for Malurrion – a few suspected that she had a double life because she was often missing when summoned to meetings. We hoped one day the belt would return, so that’s why the dragon was constantly searching, as my father knew if the belt fell into someone’s hands from Malurrion and they returned to Pyndira, they would be vulnerable. Naïve.”
