An Emperor's Fury: The Frayed Rope

by Paul Heisel

  A group of monks approached him in the library, and caution heightened when he saw Akuka. The towering Fury took long deliberate strides. Beside him was one of Montishari Gatôn’s red-robed Dragonmasters and another monk Feln didn’t know. The other monk wasn’t short, but wasn’t tall. His round face was young, pale, and his hair sprouted in all directions. Not unkempt, but purposely messy. Perhaps it was a style. There was a fourth monk, lingering to the side. He wore a gray robe and looked to be a thin wisp of a man with stringy medium length light hair. He had an oval face with bright eyes, and he seemed to be intrigued by the library. While the others came to Feln, he stopped and looked at a book, then hurried to catch up.

  “Feln Roan,” the Dragonmaster announced. “Please come with us. You’ve been summoned to meet with the Grand Master.”

  “What’s the meeting about?”

  “You will find out when you arrive. Please come with us.”

  “I need to replace the books. It’ll only take a moment.”

  Introductions went around. The Fury, as Feln already knew, was Akuka. The messy hair monk was Haworu, which he knew to be from Pyndira, and the last monk was named Ash, who came from Bora. Everyone, except the Dragonmaster, helped him return the books and texts to their places. He noted each of them took time to see what he was researching.

  “You have a keen interest in history,” Ash remarked.

  “It can help one understand the present,” Feln spoke. “History can be very…revealing.”

  Feln could see that Akuka and Haworu weren’t interested in talking; they seemed to be in a hurry to get to the meeting. Ash wasn’t anxious at all; in fact, he was quite aloof. Akuka, Haworu, and the Dragonmaster went ahead, while he and Ash lingered at a distance.

  “Indeed, history can be revealing,” Ash continued as they moved into the corridor. “Though I would rather hear the word ‘women’ used in a sentence with the word ‘revealing’.” Ash laughed at his own joke.

  Feln chuckled. “Do you know what this meeting is about?”

  “Not really. We probably messed up and they want to review all our mistakes. Then we’ll get promoted – that’s the way it works.” He laughed again.

  “Yes, that makes total sense.” Feln relaxed, happy that Ash was talkative and not interested in what he was researching. “So you’re from Bora. What did you do there?”

  “I was an instructor for an elite group of monks.”

  “What did you teach?”

  “Normal stuff. Cooking, a little gardening. Occasionally painting, but the artists are far and few between.”

  Feln played along. “Valuable skills when faced with armed opponents.”

  “True, particularly the cooking. Nothing instills fear more than a cook.”

  Feln appreciated the humor, but he knew this was Ash’s way of not answering the question of what he really did there. No sense in wasting more time. “Do you know a monk named Owori?”

  “I knew her before she left the monastery.”

  “Do you know where she went?”

  “I don’t. What a tragic loss. I’m not sure we’ll know what happened that night. Tragic.”

  “Do you think she killed Jerr?”

  “You’re well informed,” Ash said. “Few know what happened. Like I said, we don't know.”

  “I was in Bora the day after he died. I spoke with Kara, but because of the fighting I couldn’t remain there. Owori was a friend of mine from Waskhal. I was just wondering what happened to her.”

  “I’m sorry that I can’t help you find her. I thought that she would go back to Waskhal. Pity too. As I hear it, she was one of Pearl’s best students.”

  “Do you think she killed Jerr?” Feln repeated. “I have a difficult time believing she would do that without a reason or provocation.”

  “She was skillful enough to kill him, that's for sure. If anyone could kill a monk as talented as Jerr, it would have been Owori. But whether or not she’s guilty of this murder, I don't know. What happened that night will remain a mystery until she is found.”

  “You have doubts then?”

  “Based on rumors. I’ve heard a little, though, that might substantiate a reason there was a confrontation and why Owori had to act as she did. Jerr was one of our instructors, leading more than a hundred monks. We think he was training them for a mission to assassinate the Grand Master. We believe Owori found out what was happening and Jerr caught her. But he didn’t survive the fight, and Owori fled for her own safety. No one saw her after that night.”

  Feln’s heart ached. “If no one saw her, how do you know that she left?”

  “It seemed logical. She isn’t in Bora, we've searched high and low, so she must have fled. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Any proof? Did anyone see her? Did she pack her things?”

  “The last person to see her was probably Pearl. You’ll have to ask her. She may know where Owori went. I don’t know if Owori packed her things or not. I've told you everything that I know.”

  “Is she here?”

  “Who? Owori? What? Haven’t you been listening?”

  “Pearl. I mean this Pearl you've mentioned a couple of times.”

  “Oh shades no. She’s back in Bora. She never leaves the city, not for anything.”

  “Who is this Pearl?” Feln asked. Feln expected Ash to get flustered, but he remained receptive to answering questions.

  “She’s was Owori’s instructor. A good teacher, I must say, but a bit protective of her monks. Too protective in fact. Oh, here we are. We can talk more later if you want. Here we go, ready for punishment?”

  They arrived at the meeting chamber, bringing their conversation to a halt. Two Dragonmasters guarded the door. Feln wasn’t sure what he should believe. Ash being so forthcoming made him cautious about embracing the information. He thought about what happened, Feln trying to imagine Owori spying upon Jerr. Now that made sense, given her ability to blink – but who knew about that ability? Kara? This Pearl? Caleth sent Owori to spy upon Bora, and Kara took in Owori and had her spy upon Jerr. Naturally she would accept the challenge because it involved a plot to assassinate the Grand Master. But it went wrong – she was discovered, and in the ensuing fight Jerr died and Owori was blamed. That was where the story became questionable for Feln. It didn’t make sense for her to run, particularly if Kara had ordered her to spy on Jerr. They could have hidden Owori or at least questioned her more thoroughly, and at least protected her until the truth prevailed.

  Feln had a knot in the pit of his stomach.

  What this meant was Owori was either dead, tying up loose ends to prove her innocence, or she fled to avoid the monks of Bora. He knew what he needed to do next – he needed to find this Pearl and talk to her. As soon as this business was done here, he would go to Bora. Again. Shades!

  Inside the room there was food and hot tea waiting for them. They were offered refreshment and seats at the front of the room a short distance away from the round table. Several discussions were taking place. Feln caught Caleth’s eye, and he gave a hand signal – they needed to talk. It made Feln anxious. Caleth must have information. He scanned the other monks in the room, Abram, Djaa, and Kara. When he caught Kara’s eye, she stared back at him without expression. She looked angry, probably because he left Bora against her instruction. The only goal he had now was finding Pearl and talking to her about Owori. He didn’t care if Kara was upset that he left in such a hurry, and without telling her.

  He sat down in the row of chairs with Ash and Haworu, then it dawned on him why he was here. One of the Seasons nominated him to become the Master of Winter. Feln looked at the competition out of the corner of his eye, hoping he would lose in the voting stages. If it came to combat, he was sure Ash and Haworu would have their hands full trying to fight him, and it would be difficult for him to purposely lose. He had no intention of becoming the Master of Winter. His nomination must have been a matter of necessity or a mistake, or a political move.

  The Gr
and Master stood up as the outer door closed and he cleared his throat, which brought the conversations in the room to a halt. Abram and the other Seasons sat down. “It’s my great honor to inform you three, Haworu, Ash, and Feln, that each of you have been nominated for the leadership of the monastery at Renk. As Master of Winter, if appointed, you will be the head of the monastery and responsible for its well-being, operation, and you will oversee its armies. Interviews will take place starting tomorrow so that all gathered here will get to know you better, then following that there will be a vote. Should the required number of votes not elect a leader, then nonlethal combat will begin, as directed by our laws. The victor will take his responsibilities immediately. Are there any questions?”

  No one said a word.

  “Good. You three are excused. We must get back to our agenda.”

  He rang a bell and the Dragonmasters came inside to escort them out before they could finish their refreshments, which Feln didn't mind. His stomach was in knots anyway.

  #

  Later that evening Caleth returned, looking worn from the daylong meetings. They ate dinner together but didn’t have the opportunity for a private discussion. The dining halls were bursting as so many monks had come from each monastery. The halls were emptying and the bowls and plates were being cleared by lay people and initiate monks. The food here was rather good and every plate that Feln could see was clean. Feln and Caleth took a walk outside of the monastery walls, heading toward the docks along the lake. It was a cloudy evening, hinting of rain, the sun hidden in the west by sheets of gray clouds. Street lanterns were lit early. Over their shoulder, the Sabrin monastery stood like a sentinel protecting the city.

  “Before you start asking questions,” Caleth said, “I did it because I felt I had to nominate a person that would get under Kara’s skin. I couldn’t let the vote fall on my shoulders to pick between the two other candidates. If I vote for you, there will be a tie.”

  “And combat to follow. You know I will put both of those men down in a few seconds.”

  “You can lose on purpose.”

  “They’ll know I’m not giving my full effort. The Grand Master knows I can fight – you told him yourself I saved everyone back in Waskhal! You should vote for one of the other two candidates.”

  “I’d rather have the decision not be mine. I’d rather not have either of them as Seveth's successor. This Haworu is from Pyndira. We can’t trust him to know enough about the Accord of the Hand to represent Renk well. And Ash, I have never heard of him, nor do I like Kara’s influence over him. She’s trying to hurry things along so she can put Ash in power. I don’t like it.”

  “I’ll stand by your decision, but don’t prejudge the others until you’ve had a chance to talk with them. You may find one of them or both to your liking.”

  “Perhaps. I will go into the interviews with an open mind.”

  They neared the lake, now walking on wood planks built on pilings that circumvented the water. Jetties and docks were abundant, and the activity was tapering down as the few fishermen went home for the night. It smelled strongly down here as filth from the city was getting into the lake. Feln knew that it was one of Sabrin’s biggest challenges – keeping the water clean. They began walking east, which would swing them behind the elevated monastery and take them along the shoreline toward other distant districts. It would take them many hours to walk around the whole lake, which they decided against. They would walk and talk for a while, then return to the monastery before the gates closed for the evening.

  “What else have you learned?” Feln asked.

  “The only items of interest are Kara’s reports from Bora. She claims Jerr was plotting against the Grand Master. Owori uncovered the treachery and killed him, which turned his followers against Owori – against the monastery. She said there was infighting and a portion of Jerr’s monks escaped, and she believes they will be coming here to finish what they planned. It all sounds too…”

  “Convenient?”

  “That’s a good word,” Caleth said. “We queried her about Owori’s whereabouts. No one knows where she went. It’s like she vanished.”

  “I found out from Ash that a woman named Pearl was Owori’s instructor. I’d like to go back to Bora to question her. She may have information that would help me find Owori. If you hadn’t nominated me for Master of Winter, I could leave now. More delays…”

  “When this is through, assuming you aren’t the Master of Winter, I’ll give you permission to go to Bora. Once you've exhausted that, come back to Waskhal and we'll figure out what needs to happen then. Don't give up hope. Owori didn't give up on you, so I will grant you the same courtesy.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Lost in all of this is the plot against the Grand Master. If something is going to happen, certainly it’s going to happen soon.”

  Feln came to a halt. “After he names the Master of Winter. If it’s Ash, and the Grand Master is dead, there is nothing to stop those three, Ash, Kara, and Djaa, from nominating who they prefer to take over. They will have a majority.”

  “We need to flush out this conspiracy and foil this assassination attempt. There were no hints, either, that Djaa or Kara had anything to do with the attacks on us in Waskhal.”

  “At least we know when the Grand Master will be attacked,” Feln said.

  “We think we know when it will happen. It’s still a guess.”

  “What should we do? Warn the Grand Master?”

  Caleth took a deep breath. “Though my inclination is to speak with the Grand Master, I think he’ll want more proof – proof we don’t have. We’ll be thought fools and it will diminish our credibility if every time we hear some rumor we take it to him as being factual.”

  “Until it happens, then everyone will wish they would have listened to us. Let me speak with Akuka. Maybe there’s an approach we haven’t thought of.”

  “Like what?” Caleth asked.

  “If Akuka’s anything like other denizens of Pyndira, he’ll listen to me, and believe me he will.”

  “If you think it’ll work, do it. I don’t have any additional ideas. Besides that, both of us are running out of time.”

  #

  Feln waited in the Grand Master’s office, his request for an audience with Akuka took time to arrange. The walls here were thick and it was quiet, unlike the city buzzing outside the monastery walls. The office, now bare except for basic decorations and two paintings of landscapes, remained unremarkable. This was the third time he had been here. Perhaps this time the meeting would go right. The door opened and Akuka came through. He looked taller than before. His robe swung loosely as he crossed the distance easily. Hidden in the cowl, his face was dark. They bowed to each other. Akuka shoved his hands into his robe – Feln had seen a Fury do that before – and he stood taller.

  “I have come as requested,” Akuka said. “What news do you have for me and me alone?”

  Direct and to the point, just as the Grand Master said the other evening. “First, let me introduce myself properly.” Feln revealed the golden dragon belt of the Most Favored.

  Akuka made no move, nor did he make comment.

  “My name is Feln-en-Xialao-Narneth, Most Favored of Safun.”

  “I have no idea what you are speaking of,” Akuka said.

  “I thought you would say that because we are here on Malurrion. It doesn’t matter. You know what my family represents, do you not?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Xialao is bound to dispense justice, to right wrongs when family is against family. What I want you to know is this; there is a plot to assassinate the Grand Master. I don’t know who. I feel, though, it will take place after the Master of Winter is named. There are other Furies here, hidden, posing as monks. If you need proof of this, speak with Kara and ask to see her tattoo. It is of a green serpent, a snake, and I have seen other Furies in Pyndira with the same tattoo. In fact, I saw one when I was traveling in Em
esia.”

  “Forgive me Feln, but what you speak of makes no sense to me. I’m the Grand Master’s friend from Kran, now serving as a protector in these troubled times. You must know that I will protect him at any cost. Besides, what you speak of is impossible. Pyndira is a mythical place. Thank you for your concern, but I have other things to do with my time than listen to your fancy tales of families and tattoos. We can’t waste our time chasing ghosts. Are we finished?”

  “It will happen after the Master of Winter is named, not before. That is the best time for them to strike.”

  Akuka bowed and strode across the room, where he exited and didn’t look back. Feln picked up the lantern and went to the door. Outside one of the Dragonmasters gave him a curt bow and directed him back towards his quarters, taking the lantern and leaving Feln in the darkened corridor. Down the hallway towards his destination, oil lantern lights flickered. For a moment Feln stood there, staring at the light until his sight blurred and everything around him was silent. He was certain Akuka would heed his advice, now it was a matter of the assassins setting up their plan. Perhaps they would make a mistake and he would catch them before the violence began. Feln wondered if he should do additional spying.