An Emperor's Fury: The Frayed Rope

by Paul Heisel

  “A few times we have had assassins clever enough to enter the manor house. None of them succeeded. We keep the evidence of the attacks as a reminder that it can happen. It will happen. We must always be on our guard. Vigilant.”

  Feln made no reply and continued to climb. The second floor contained many rooms and hallways, and Suun ushered him to a simple room. It contained a small bed and functional desk, several lacquered bookshelves and old books. It was rather plain, but he liked it. Plus he was tired and wanted to rest, then he would need to find out how he could get back to Malurrion, back to Owori.

  “I’m sure you have questions, as do I,” Suun said.

  “I would like a moment to gather my thoughts.”

  “Of course. One hour?”

  Feln nodded and began peeling off his robe, the bed more inviting than he thought possible.

  #

  True to her word, one hour later Suun came into the room. She knocked once and slid inside. Feln woke from his nap and sat up, shielding his eyes as Suun opened the window shades. He rubbed his eyes and grabbed his robe, the belt, and his weapons.

  “That was an hour?” he asked.

  “Exactly. No need for your weapons. Not here, not today.”

  Feln set them aside in the corner.

  “I’ll have a rack brought so you can display them properly. Your room in the palace will have those amenities for you tomorrow.” Suun motioned toward the door. “I’m sure we both have many questions. Perhaps we can dine together and talk?”

  “That would be acceptable.”

  They walked through the manor house to the third floor and went into a dining room. It was large enough to seat twenty or thirty people at once. Wonderful aromas wafted through the room, making Feln’s stomach rumble. He hadn’t had a decent meal since leaving Daiwer-dar. Suun directed him to a seat at the head of the stout mahogany table and took one herself on his right.

  Delicate china platters, white with yellow flower decorations, came out with steamed fish, brown rice, pheasant dumplings, and green vegetables. Feln filled his matching bowl with some of everything and began eating. The servants brought tea and wine, the latter Feln refused for the moment. He felt better with nourishment and relaxed, sipping his tea now that it had cooled. Suun paused and put her utensils down, folding her hands and putting her elbows on the table.

  “Where do we start?” Suun asked.

  Part of him wanted to tell the complete story, but he wanted to get back to Owori. All he wanted to know was how to return to Malurrion. Anything else was secondary.

  “All I want to know is how I can transport back to Malurrion.”

  Suun nodded as if she expected him to say that. “I understand. First, I need to know how you came to be here…the belt. Please, indulge me.”

  “Very well.”

  Feln began the tale, picking it up just after he had seen Suun at the Accord of the Spirit monastery. He took her through the tunnels below the castle, discovering the belt, him becoming trapped in the castle, and his eventual desperate escape while he was in the storage closet.

  “I found myself in the middle of Hou.” He didn’t continue with the story, as it looked as if Suun wanted to speak.

  “You strike me as a direct person,” Suun said, “so I won’t mince words with you ever. There will be times you will not like what I tell you, nor will you like my opinions. But you will hear it.”

  “I prefer it that way.”

  “The magic of the belts allows us to transport between Malurrion and Pyndira. We call it ‘establishing a connection’. The way it works is we picture a place in Malurrion, and it transports us to that spot if and only if we imagine the details well enough.”

  “So all I need to do is imagine the storage room?”

  With an expressionless face, Suun shook her head. “The connection, once made by a belt and the user of the belt, can’t be changed. The connection for your belt is the storage room in Borgard and the town square in Hou.”

  “You mean to travel to Malurrion I have to go all the way back to Hou?”

  “You’ll need to stand in the square, make the proper hand movements, imagine the closet, and you’ll return to Borgard.”

  Feln’s insides turned over. No wonder it didn’t work when he tried transporting. Now he was weeks, if not months, away from Hou! It would take him a long time to travel back, then he would have to transport, get out of Borgard safely, and find his way back to his monastery. He didn't even know if the Accord of the Hand survived the war! This was not what he wanted to hear.

  “How long would it take me to travel to Hou?”

  “By swift horse, several weeks, a month, maybe more depending on weather and bandits. You would be traveling through wild lands at times and may be faced with strange creatures. Tell me, how did you get here so quickly? Emato left that detail out.”

  “Dragon,” he said. “I’ll explain when I tell the whole story.” Feln sat back and put his bowl of tea aside. He didn’t feel like eating more food. “What of Owori? The Accord of the Hand? Tell me.”

  “First tell me about your formal name.”

  “I had to make one up and I remember you saying you were the daughter of Narneth. I took that. Chang remembers meeting your dad, or at least he said he did.”

  “I’m honored you took his name. I don’t remember anything of my father. He died when I was young, plus he was always away on Xialao business. My family has sacrificed much for the Xialao family. Too much.”

  Feln started to say that he was alive, but remembered Nar wanted to remain dead. “So what did you find out about Owori?” he asked.

  “I traveled there as you asked. My connection is from here, this manor house, to a forgotten shrine in the forest outside of your city of Waskhal.” Suun must have read the quizzical look on his face. “When our investigations figured you had gone to the Accord of the Hand, I made the connection near your monastery so I could search for the belt. It has been my task for the last year.” Suun paused as servants came into the room to clear the plates and remaining food. She waited until they left to continue. “As for your friend Owori… I went to Waskhal as you instructed. This is what I found out. The Accord of the Hand defeated Borgard. A woman named Kara took the king prisoner.”

  Feln nodded but made no comment. It must have happened right after he became trapped. A cold chill went down his spine. Kara had a Fury tattoo on her arm, the green serpent. Was she from Pyndira? Was she a Fury?

  “I asked about Owori before I went to Caleth, and I found out she was trying to become a master of the dragons. I don’t know what that is.”

  “Dragonmaster,” Feln said. “They are the protectors of our Grand Master, the leader of the Accord of the Hand.”

  “But when I went to see Caleth, he was cautious and wouldn’t reveal where she had gone. I relayed the message as you instructed. He had me followed, but I eluded the monks trailing me.” She leaned forward. “They were good. The Accord of the Hand has impressed me.”

  “If she became a Dragonmaster, she went to Sabrin. She would now be in the service of the Grand Master. That’s where I need to go when I get back to Malurrion. I need to go to Sabrin.”

  “So, indulge me with your story.”

  “Can we take a walk? Get some fresh air?”

  Suun smiled. “I know just the place. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it once we get there. I already sent word. The whole city is buzzing with the news of your arrival. Our training facility is buzzing even more.”

  #

  Feln envisioned a walking forest or an open grassy meadow to stroll down. They were on a winding path heading into the mountainside, climbing up toward an unknown destination. Suun moved with agility and never seemed to tire; she was no more an administrator than he. He could see that she was in top physical condition, and her hands bore the calluses from working with weapons. Feln told his story as he walked, figuring Suun was the person he could trust with all the information. He had to trust one person and she was i
t, until he got back to Owori.

  The path wound around, taking them on an undulating course toward their destination. It was cooler here, and they passed several slow-moving wagons heading in the same direction. The path wasn’t wide, so it was a tedious trek for the wagons. Suun indicated the wagons were taking supplies up to their training facility located at the top of the small mountain. From here Feln could see the city below spreading out. People, structures, and avenues were in abundance. There were more people here than he had imagined, and he figured Pyndira had a hundred times the population of Malurrion’s known lands – easily, if not more.

  Ahead of them was a checkpoint. An arch made of heavy fieldstones with a large steel portcullis barred their advance. To the left was a forty or fifty foot drop to the undulating road below – Feln wasn’t sure how far, it was hard to tell – to the right was slippery and jagged slate that would be impossible to climb. Atop the archway was a level platform with four archers, bows drawn to their cheeks. From a niche in the rock wall an armored warrior appeared, sword ready, challenging them. Suun announced both he and herself. The portcullis went up and they were allowed to pass. Beyond the arch were more warriors, armored from head to toe. As they continued up, the portcullis went down behind them and the guards went back to watching the road.

  After he reached the part about meeting with the Warlord, Suun began to expand about the Xialao family and their responsibilities. The Most Favored of the Xialao family had the ability, and obligation, to police the other families. Since the formation of the seven provinces, the Xialao family had made sure all families followed the laws of the Pyndira and respected the Emperor’s laws. She went on to explain that only he, the Most Favored, had the power, and that when his mother disappeared, so did their authority. Now that he was here, they could resume what their family was supposed to do and administer justice. It was up to him to decide punishments for transgressions. Suun figured he had been lucky to get all the way to Safun unharmed, and had things turned out differently, he would have been dead and the belt lost again. The other families, in general, had enjoyed the chaos of not facing punishment for their actions. The last twenty years, according to Suun, had torn Pyndira apart.

  At the top of the mountain there was a heavily constructed stone building. It was square in shape and contained at least eight stories, the base spreading far and wide and set into the strong rock of the mountain. It was made of brown sandstone blocks, rough hewn on the outside and set with great exactness. The height of the walls was fifteen to twenty feet for each story, which created huge spaces within. Each of the higher levels were slightly smaller squares, giving the building a pyramid type appearance. The roof was swept and curved, red tile shingles stained black with the passage of time, protected it from the elements. There were no outer defenses here, or none that Feln could detect. There were cordoned off sections, outdoor training areas, in use by groups of warriors sparring and training.

  “This is where we train our best,” Suun stated. “We’ve waited a long time for the Most Favored to return and it is with great pleasure I introduce you to the reason we are so effective policing the other families.”

  They walked to the front entrance, the double doors barring their advance. They were stout, made of thick mahogany planks painstakingly carved with exquisite scroll patterns, and were nicked by both use and what looked like errant blades. Once inside, a wide corridor went down to the center of the building to another set of double doors that were guarded, and there were doors on their right and left heading to unknown destinations. There were no decorations of any sort. The walls were made of wood panels, cut from hardwood trees, planed to exactness, and joined together. The walls looked old and solid. People dressed in Xialao uniforms moved here and there, bowing as they went by. The guards opened the next set of double doors.

  An arena of significant size was here. The floor had been built into the mountain a dozen feet lower, the walls making a long rectangle which was half the depth of the building and almost its full width. It looked as if the arena could be cordoned off into several sub areas. The stone floors and walls were smooth, results of centuries of use. There was a viewing area on the opposite side. Suun directed Feln there. Uniformed servants went ahead of them with trays and flasks, departing before Feln and Suun could sit down. There was cheese, bread, fruits and tea, water, and wine waiting for them at the viewing area.

  “This is the lifeblood of the Xialao family,” Suun said. “This is why the other families fear us. We have caught many spies who have tried to infiltrate to learn our secrets. None of those spies have ever left this facility alive. We offer no mercy.”

  Feln sat down on the bench. There was a prominent position at the top, but he didn’t take it. He felt vulnerable without his katana and his hand searched for it out of habit. There was great anticipation in the air. “What are we going to do?”

  “Watch a demonstration so you’ll understand how we police the other families. When your mother disappeared, our teams found their way back to Safun because no one was issuing orders. They have been here since, preparing for your return. Our armies have similar training, but the people you will see here are the best of the best, who, in turn, are then trained to be even better.”

  “If they’ve been waiting twenty years, most would beyond their prime,” Feln said, his voice full of doubt. He grabbed an apple from the tray of food and put it inside his robe.

  “The teams change when they need to. As members get older or don’t return, they’re replaced. The teams you’ll see today are ready, but have never been tested.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Only the Most Favored of Safun can dispense justice against the other families,” Suun answered. “When your mother left, no one was here to give orders. Feln, the families are out of control. You have seen this firsthand. Now that you’re here, we can do the job we’ve always done.” Suun motioned with her hand to a man across the arena. He signaled back. “The job needs to be done.”

  Feln leaned forward. The double doors to the arena opened. At the head was a group of nine people, the lead person carrying the Safun banner, a golden sword against a deep blue background. They marched down steps Feln hadn’t seen before and entered the practice area. The double doors closed. There were three women, four men, and one girl who couldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen. The men were older; one looked as if he had cheated death numerous times. He was standing next to the girl with his hand on her shoulder. The women ranged in age, shape, and size, and Feln wasn’t sure of how old or young they were. All of them were wearing white ghis meant for training, the men all had close cropped hair and the women had tied back their hair into ponytails. The banner went into a stand and the group presented themselves to Feln and Suun. They bowed in unison.

  “These are our current instructors. They are charged with teaching the teams a range of offensive and defensive techniques. Each has their own specialty. The members of the teams are our best and most capable fighters, and they’ll do the job for you.”

  “Dispensing justice?”

  “Correcting that which must be corrected,” Suun said.

  “I won’t pretend to understand this.”

  “In time you will. Once you’ve seen what’s happened to Pyndira in the last twenty years, once you’ve heard of the crimes – you’ll understand the need for your leadership.”

  Feln took a breath. The instructors were waiting, eyes forward, their bodies stiff as boards. “So the Most Favored of Safun polices the families with teams. They’re all here? At this facility?”

  “Until you send them to the provinces to dispense justice.”

  “The other families won’t eliminate our teams?”

  Suun smiled. “In the past, the teams haven’t been attacked. If they could be found at all. Did you have militia at your monastery? Peacekeepers?”

  “Indeed. Someone has to watch out for the safety of the public.”

  “And if a foolish person kil
led or hurt one of the militia?”

  “Retribution would be harsh. They protect their own.”

  “We operate on the same principle. No one messes with our family or our teams. No one.”

  “So what do you want to show me?”

  “This,” Suun said. “Send them in.”

  #

  Feln counted seven teams of eight people, except one team had only seven, and they marched in with military precision and discipline. There was an array of men and women, each one dressed in a ghi. They carried a variety of weapons and each team had a banner. The first was a green snake. After that came yellow cobra, white tiger, red panther, purple alligator, blue lion, and orange snake. They spread out into different areas moving as a team would. They stood facing Feln and bowed. The instructors joined the spectators on the benches. The green snake team came forward.

  “What do the animals represent?” Feln asked. Before she answered he figured it had to do with Furies.

  “Each team has a Fury,” Suun answered. “The teams are identified by a color and the mark the Fury has.”

  “I don’t like it,” Feln said. “Furies…”

  “Given your recent experience, I don’t blame you. Our Furies are loyal and bound to the family. They won’t fail you.”

  “That’s not what bothers me. These people are pressed into service, bought and sold. That’s slavery. From this moment forth, we do not buy Furies. If they want to serve of their own decision, fine. Otherwise, they are free to pursue their lives as they wish.”

  “You’re as stubborn as I heard you mother was. What you’re suggesting won’t be good. Payment is the only way we’ll get new Furies.” Suun sighed. “Their marks have to be paid for. And if you start freeing Furies, there could be other repercussions. Don't make any decisions until you have all the facts. Your culture in Malurrion may not translate to the customs or culture here in Pyndira. Remember that.”