An Emperor's Fury: The Frayed Rope

by Paul Heisel

  “Show me Kojo!” he commanded.

  He expected a figurine to jump up and lope across the map, but nothing stirred. Feln sat down in the room’s only chair, putting his chin in his hands. Why didn’t it work? He was so sure it would. The answer didn’t come to him and he left the Map Room, securing it as always, not taking any chances of a person wandering in the study and looking around. Just as he was about to leave, there was a knock on the study’s door.

  “Enter,” he commanded.

  The house valet came in, bowing, so much like Emato that Feln made the mistake of calling him that once. He had a rather simple name, De, but that didn’t mean he was a simple person. De was invaluable in helping him get around, managing his schedule, and he always seemed to know where everyone was. Like Emato at the manor house in Daiwer-dar, he was eager to please and strict on protocol.

  “Sir, one of the administrators has called for you. It’s urgent.”

  “Of course.” Feln followed De through the hallways, the man moved swiftly for someone dressed so formally. They tried to get him to wear the family uniform, but the efforts failed. He wasn’t willing to give up his robe and fighting clothes, although he did have a new robe. The material was light and strong, kept out the heat and cold when needed, and had plenty of hidden spaces for him to put things. It didn’t hamper his fighting either, a surprising bonus.

  With a sweep of his robe, he entered the reception area and took his seat on top of a dais after setting the Dragonfly blade on its stand. It was much like being a king, heralded as such, and Feln didn’t have the time or inclination to fight tradition. Here, above the petitioners, he must have appeared to be unblemished royalty gazing out over the common man. Moments passed and De left the room, then an administrator came in. It was Halad, one of the more fascinating interpreters of the law, who came through the double doors. Another man, dressed in green finery and a trendy tall hat, tried to get through the doors but the guards held him back. Another man, dressed in black finery with the crest of the emperor on his chest and tried to squeeze by the guards as well. The guards, though, did not yield and shut the doors. Feln could hear the men scolding the guards for halting their advance.

  “What is it Halad?”

  He held a scroll in his hand and was squeezing it so hard the paper was crumpling. “A representative of Emesia is here and has raised a most dreadful grievance against you. He has brought a representative from the Emperor as witness. They traveled with a small platoon of protectors.”

  In his head, Feln calculated the distance. The emissary from Emesia must have ridden day and night to get here. Along the way he must have picked up the man from Daiwer-dar. “What grievance?” he asked, though he knew the answer.

  Halad unrolled the crumpled scroll and read from it. ‘I, Xian-er-Ku-Hiru, formally accuse Feln-en-Xialao-Narneth of murdering Jun-ba-Ku-Chang. It is our demand that justice be done upon Feln-en-Xialao-Narneth for this crime, and nothing short of his death will be acceptable. Further, we demand compensation for this act, a sum of two hundred thousand gold coins and a chest of precious gems be delivered henceforth. So do I decree – Xian-er-Ku-Hiru, Most Favored of Emesia.’

  Feln’s blood boiled. Chang died in his arms, a victim of Hiru, his deceit, his Furies, and his lust for power. A kind man, wise even beyond his years was murdered right in front of him. Feln knew this day would come, but he didn’t anticipate the anger he would feel. They were accusing him and asking for his death, and he presumed because he was the enforcer of family transgressions that he would have to punish himself! Was that what they wanted?

  “I was handed a private note with the Emperor’s seal. I’m sure it is to remind you of your duty to Pyndira, that you are to uphold the laws,” Halad said. “I can read it to you if you wish.”

  “There’s no need,” Feln said, teeth clenched together. “I’ll read it later.”

  “They bring no evidence,” Halad said, motioning toward the door. “But there is precedence – the word of a Most Favored is taken as the truth. We’re in a gray area here, though, when it comes to Pyndiran law. No one is above the law, however, the Most Favoreds are not subject to much of what we enforce. This will be complicated. Potentially the Warlord of Pyndira will get involved.”

  “So when I say I didn’t murder Chang, that I was trying to save him, you would believe me?”

  Halad stood there, unmoving, his steely eyes looking back at Feln without judgment. What Feln saw was loyalty and belief. Halad didn’t answer, he simply took the scrolls and tore them to shreds and stuffed them in his pockets. Inside his robes, Halad squeezed the notes in clenched fists.

  “Send those two snakes in,” Feln said. “Have the guards come with them. Bring all of the administrators as well.”

  Doing as he was told, Halad opened the door and invited them in, and after they had stepped through, he motioned for the guards to enter. Moving down the corridor quickly, he went to gather the rest of the administrators and scribes.

  The man from Emesia stood proudly with chest stuck out, strutting like a cock amongst his hens. The screwed-up expression on his face matched his mood, foul it seemed, and he shuffled forward ahead of the Emperor’s emissary. “I have never been treated so rudely,” the Emesian said. “A barbarian I say, good riddance. I expect the full cooperation of your underlings. Mark my words, we will have justice, if not this day then the next…”

  “Silence!” Feln tried his best to hold back his anger, but he couldn’t.

  The emissary flinched from the shout, recovered, and sniggered. “You have no authority over me. I come with the blessings of the Emperor. The whole of Pyndira supports these accusations set forth by Hiru. You will answer for your crimes!”

  “The Emperor supports the laws of Pyndira, nothing more,” interjected the other emissary. “You do not speak for the Emperor, I do.” His eyes shifted back and forth between the Emesian and Feln. He looked uncomfortable. “I’m here to see that justice…begins.”

  By now Halad had returned with ten administrators, more scribes, and other bureaucrats. Feln was sure there were angry petitioners now, and he would have to make concessions for the inconvenience this disruption caused. It was a small price to pay though to put these snakes in their place.

  “We want justice,” the Emesian said. He glanced at the Emperor’s emissary. “You must surrender yourself to the Emperor for judgment.”

  “The laws of Pyndira must be followed,” the Emperor's emissary said. “You understand that, do you not? I’m sure your administrators know that you must surrender and be judged.”

  Feln looked to Halad. He shook his head and said, “You only bring anecdotal evidence that contradicts the sworn testimony of the Most Favored of Safun. For such disputes, physical evidence and witnesses should be examined.”

  “Indeed,” Feln said, standing. “I was there while a Fury and two dark clad assassins took Chang’s life. I tried to save him.”

  “Of course you were there – the assassins were there at your command.” The Emesian snorted.

  Feln could see this was getting nowhere, and his blood was boiling. Upon the dais Feln stood, towering over the two. “Have either of you brought a blade with you?”

  The Emesian laughed. “We are diplomats. Our swords are borne by our protectors. They await our return outside this…manor house.”

  “We carry no weapons,” the Emperor’s emissary spoke quickly. “We are messengers, you must respect that.”

  “Guards, give each of them a sword.”

  The guards didn’t hesitate when given a command. There were eight soldiers, and each unsheathed short heavy blades that were sharpened on both sides. The two closest presented the hilts to the men.

  “What is this?” The Emesian swatted at the hilt as if it were a fly.

  The Emperor’s emissary turned pale, blood draining from his face. He reluctantly took the blade and held it, hands shaking.

  “What are you doing?” the Emesian asked the Emperor’s emis
sary.

  “Take the sword,” Feln commanded.

  “What, do you expect us to fight you? Preposterous! This is beyond reason! Look at all of these witnesses!”

  “Take the sword.”

  The Emesian grasped the blade as the hilt was thrust into his chest. “This is ridiculous!”

  “Now,” Feln said. “I’m only going to say this once. Only one of you is going to live long enough to carry my message back to the Emperor and Hiru. We’ll see who has the most conviction. Whoever lives may have the opportunity to speak with me again and revise your demands before he departs.”

  The Emesian laughed and it made Feln’s blood boil.

  “You can’t make us fight each other,” the Emesian said. He dipped his sword and pointed it toward the ground. “Put your blade down,” he told the Emperor’s emissary. “He can’t make us fight. We’ve already won with the truth. This is preposterous.” He addressed the guards and administrators. “Are you going to let this barbarian spit on the laws of Pyndira?”

  Halad stepped forward. “What do you know of the laws? We work with them every day. You bring no physical proof! Where are the witnesses to this crime? Will they not come forth?”

  “He was caught in the act and escaped! If he wasn’t guilty, why did he flee?”

  “It was convenient to blame me. Had I not left, you would have murdered me too.”

  “Preposterous, how can you listen to these lies?”

  “He didn’t murder Chang!” Halad pulled the ripped papers out of his pockets and held them up, squeezing his fists. The paper dropped to the floor as he opened his hands. “No demand from Hiru or message from the Emperor will change that fact! It is Hiru's word against Feln's word.”

  The Emesian tracked the papers falling to the ground.

  “There was no message from the Emperor,” the Daiwer-dar emissary spoke. He took a step back.

  Halad lurched and doubled over in pain, wincing. His breathing quickened and his face turned red. A guard grabbed him, supporting him before he fell to the ground.

  “What devilry is this?” Feln asked.

  The Emperor’s emissary’s eyes were wide open, his jaw slack in shock. His blade clattered to the floor. “There was not a message from the Emperor!”

  Froth came from Halad’s mouth as the guards pulled him away.

  “We will see justice done. One way or another,” the Emesian said as he discarded his sword. He didn’t care that Halad was dying.

  Like a flash, Feln stepped forward down the staircase to the Emesian, left hand snatching his blade from the stand. The Dragonfly katana came out of its sheath silently and in one smooth motion, Feln decapitated the Emesian. Before the body could fall to the ground, Feln shed the blade of the blood and was sheathing it. Blood spattered across those present, all were stunned into silence and held motionless. The Emperor’s emissary soiled the front of his black uniform, leaving a small puddle of urine at his feet that would soon mix with the Emesian’s pooling blood.

  “Poison,” said a guard as he showed Halad’s black stained hands. “He's dead.”

  “One of those messages was poisoned,” Feln muttered, pointing his sheathed blade at the Emperor's emissary.

  “I say again, the Emperor did not send a message.” The Emperor’s emissary backed away. “He must have poisoned a counterfeit message from the Emperor knowing only you would open it! You must believe me!”

  “Hear me and hear me well,” Feln said, the anger still writhing in his voice. “You tell the Emperor that I will dispense justice in Pyndira with a vengeance. Send a message to Hiru and tell him his plot to poison me has failed, but has resulted in the death of one of my advisors. His time is coming. It may not be this month or the next, but he better prepare to face the consequences of his actions. If he ever falsely accuses anyone, even the lowliest peddler on the filthy streets of Hiru, I will personally cut off his genitals and hand them to him. Do you understand what I have said?”

  The emissary nodded weakly. He looked as if he was going to pass out.

  “Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” he said, voice cracking.

  “Get him out of here. Give him and his soldiers a six-hour head start, then send out fifty cavalry after him. If they catch him in Safun, kill him – I’ll find another to deliver my message. Don’t ever set foot in Safun again.”

  “I have done nothing wrong,” he protested. “I’m innocent!”

  “So am I,” Feln proclaimed.

  The guards dragged the emissary out of the room, which was still except for the strained breathing of the people assembled. The blood of the Emesian kept expanding across the floor. No one moved. Halad remained where he was, dead from the poison. Additional guards, members of Feln’s personal guard, arrived. They were in their dark blue cloaks and leather armor, equipped with numerous weapons. An administrator approached Feln as more of the fighters filtered into the room.

  “I’m not in the mood,” Feln said to the administrator.

  “I’ll cancel your engagements for the remainder of the day.”

  “Grant everyone that petitions today a reasonable answer or settlement, whatever it may be. Tell them I’m indisposed. I’ll leave it up to you to decide what needs to be done. I’ll be in my study.”

  Feln went through the back door and shut it quietly, the adrenaline not quite out of his system. De was there, bowing constantly, jabbering away about tonight’s dinner and an appointment with Zu that was to take place in a few moments. Everything jumbled into nonsense. He wasn’t sure what he had just done, probably broke every diplomatic law there was. It wouldn't matter that they tried to poison him. At this point, he didn’t care. He made a statement, and he did it in the most dramatic fashion that he could have. The Emperor’s emissary would report what happened, and he was sure the Emperor wouldn’t care about the lout from Emesia. If anything, this underscored Feln’s convictions and the truth of the situation with Chang – he was innocent and would defend himself to the death if necessary.

  “Was the urgent matter resolved?” De asked.

  “Completely.”

  “Did you cut yourself? There’s blood!”

  “Everything’s fine. I’ll be in my study. I need time to think. Please don’t disturb me.”

  “As you wish. You know, I used to scold your mother. I would say, ‘Sari-un-Xialao-Ling’, you are going to run yourself ragged if you don’t get proper rest and proper food.’ She never listened, and I expect you’ll be no different.”

  It came to him at once, the Map Room, of course! The formal names! How could he be so stupid? “De, do we have a list of the formal names of samurai, Favored Ones, and the like?”

  “We do. We receive communiqués from the provinces with lists of names at least twice a year. Our scribes take those, cross reference, and copy them into books, organized by province. I have no idea what purpose they serve, but the information has been compiled for hundreds and hundreds of years. We have a whole library of names. Would you like to see them?”

  “Have the latest books brought to my study.”

  “Certainly.”

  #

  Feln quelled the anxiousness he felt. As the adrenaline waned, so did his rationalization of what he did. He killed a diplomat to prove a point, and he wasn’t sure if it was justified or not because of Halad’s death. The more he thought about it, though, the angrier he became. They formally accused him of killing Chang and tried to assassinate him with poison! He sat in the study, eyeing the secret door, waiting for De to come with the tomes. If his hunch was correct, the formal names would activate a magical figurine. It would tell him where anyone with a Favored One belt was located. It made sense.

  De appeared with eight books, one for each province including two for Shisaru and left them on the desk. Feln took the book from Furawa and opened it, scanning the pages for Kojo. He found his formal name, then unlocked the Map Room and went inside. He went to the teak chest and said, “Show me Koto-na-Nomu-Kojo.”r />
  A figure climbed out of the chest and ran across the map, coming to a halt in the middle part of Emesia, not far from where he originally attacked. Feln wondered if Kojo’s forces had dug in, or had Kojo stayed behind while his troops advanced, he presumed, to the south. Feln was certain he and Hiru were in league together, but to what end? For what purpose? He supposed they were going to occupy the south of Emesia to eradicate any thought of independence, that's what Kojo was doing for Hiru. What he didn't know was this; what was Hiru going to do in return? Help Kojo become the Most Favored of Furawa? He didn't know for sure.

  All at once there was movement on the board, enough to startle Feln and make him take notice. All the dragons but three lifted off from their locations and began flying toward the provinces. Instantly he knew they were going toward the Most Favoreds. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but because Emesia’s dragon didn’t take flight it couldn’t be good. The other two, the golden dragons, the Emperor’s and the Warlord’s, remained at the palace. It was to do with Emesia, that was for sure, but what it was Feln didn’t know.

  #

  Later that night, Feln returned to the Map Room and watched the dragons move ever so slowly toward the capital cities and the Most Favoreds. Sli would be in Safun in a few days, bearing a message or coming to take him away. He wondered if this had to do with Chang’s death. Because the Emesian dragon wasn't moving, he figured if he was going somewhere it would be to Hiru. If that was the case, then Feln was certain there would be a trap or deception to bring him to justice one way or another. And they said that he didn’t follow the rules! It made him angrier thinking they tried to poison him, and poor Halad died.

  Feln took the magic book and opened it to the red bookmark, seeing no messages from Suun. On the map she was still crossing Furawa and was almost in Emesia. He wished she was in Emesia already. In the book he began writing, telling her of the location of Kojo and what she needed to do within ten days – what he asked was impossible, but she had to do it. With a snap, he closed the book and wondered when she would respond. The book trembled in his hand and he opened it to the page he had just written in, the magic filling in letters as Suun wrote back. Her handwriting was in calligraphy, big and legible letters. It was true, she didn't mince words.