An Emperor's Fury: The Frayed Rope

by Paul Heisel

  While he walked back to their quarters, he contemplated blinking and trying to spy on Kara or Djaa. It seemed improbable, though, that he would learn anything useful by pure chance, and getting caught would be instant death. The plans for the assassination were already set, and he presumed, with contingencies made as well if things went awry. Feln went over the options in his mind, trying to anticipate what would happen. If Ash became Master of Winter and the Grand Master died, then Kara and Djaa could be nominated to take the overall leadership of the Accord of the Hand. If Haworu became Master of Winter, then killing the Grand Master wouldn’t produce any results. There would still be a stalemate and no probable way for either of them to become Grand Master. Caleth would ally with Haworu, and the fifth vote would fall to one of the Dragonmasters filling in for the Grand Master. Feln wasn’t positive about the protocol, but it seemed correct to him.

  He climbed the stairs to the second floor, intending to get a decent evening’s rest. Monks passed him and he acknowledged them, and he came to a stop at the top of the landing. A long corridor was to his left and to his right was an outer wall of the structure. The window was open, a cooler breeze coming in and bringing relief from the heat built up in the building. It was warm, but not too stuffy. The wooden floors here were worn and creaked underneath his feet. Feln went to Caleth’s room and knocked on the door. Caleth bid him to enter, and he was surprised to see Kara there. She was casually dressed in a black halter that displayed her tone midriff, with clingy black leggings that showed off her defined calves, similar to what she wore the last time he saw her. Her hair was pulled back and tied with white ribbons, and those smoldering dark eyes cut into him.

  “So, are you going to run away again?” she asked.

  She was making this personal. Feln bowed. “Well met Kara.”

  “We thought that you got caught in the chaos. You could have told one of our staff, or a gate guard, that you were leaving. Or sent us a message. As a courtesy. There were monks killed in the conflict and when we didn’t find your body among the dead, we assumed that you departed.”

  “The chaos was the reason I left,” Feln said. “I didn’t want to get caught and end up dead, as you have suggested. I apologize I didn’t let you know, or let the guards at your door either. Please understand that the last I saw of your monks was worrisome. They were flinging fire around the monastery, and more were gathering to fight. I wanted no part of it.”

  “Understandable, but still rude. You could have told someone, anyone!”

  “I would rather be rude than dead, wouldn’t you?”

  Kara scowled. She turned to Caleth and bowed. “Thank you for your time this evening. As for you,” she said, addressing Feln, “you’re not welcome in Bora. If you come to our gates, we won’t let you in. Even if you do become the Master of Winter tomorrow, it will be a long time before you’ll be welcome – maybe when I’m dead. If we catch you trying to get into Bora, you will pay the harshest penalty.”

  Kara stormed past Feln and out the door, shutting it as she left. Not understanding completely what just happened, Feln motioned toward Caleth for guidance.

  “Don’t look at me,” Caleth said. “She’s pissed off at you. She has taken this personally. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s…infatuated with you.”

  “Far from it,” he said. Then he remembered Kara lounging on the pillows, perfectly presenting herself to him while they had tea. Shades…

  “Well, I don’t know what to tell you.”

  “I had no intention of being rude,” Feln said, flustered by Kara’s actions in Bora. “You would have done the same thing. They were fighting amongst each other. I didn’t want to become involved or caught in the conflict.”

  Caleth held up his hands. “You don’t have to explain this to me. She’s taken your affront to heart. She has her eye on you. She asked lots of questions about you, and Owori, and you and Owori. I answered as little as I could, but I’m sure she pieced it together. I don’t know if she’ll try to kill you or kiss you.” Caleth howled with laughter.

  “It’s not that funny.”

  “Yes it is. Shades…”

  “I don’t care,” Feln interrupted. “I’m going back to Bora to speak with Pearl no matter what Kara says. She must know where Owori is or what happened to her. Pearl is the key to finding her.”

  “I figured you’d go no matter what the consequences. You may want to smooth things over with Kara tomorrow. Hopefully she won't get angrier.”

  “How can she get angrier?”

  “Think about those times you experienced Owori's anger, her behavior that you mentioned to me on the trip here. You missed all of the signals from Owori, now Kara is after you.” Caleth grinned.

  “Shades,” he said. “It could get worse.”

  “Yes, lucky you. Get some rest, you'll need it,” Caleth said. “You have a long day of interviews tomorrow. If all goes well, you can travel to Bora before Kara can send a message there to ban you. Or maybe you can smooth things over with her.”

  “None of this helps the situation here. I will think on it tonight.” He paused. “Why was she really here? Not just to talk about me?”

  “Trying to convince me to vote for Ash. She’s not dumb, that’s for sure. She had me figured out.”

  “She knows why you nominated me?” Feln asked.

  “Yes. So there won’t be any surprises tomorrow that’s for sure. You three will go through your interviews, they’ll be voting – ties – until the Grand Master gives the order for combat. Because there are three candidates, you may have to fight each other several times. You’ll need your rest.”

  “Of course.”

  “Now tell me, before you retire, what was Akuka’s reaction?”

  “Indifferent. He claimed to know nothing of what I spoke about. I expected that and delivered the message anyway. If he’s good at what he does, he’ll make sure the Grand Master is aware of the danger.”

  “Go,” said Caleth, “take your leave. Get some rest.”

  “Farewell master. Thank you.”

  Feln went to his room and sat down. Where did Kara get this notion that they shared some connection, a common interest in each other? They barely knew each other and only interacted a handful of times in the past. Yet, for some reason, he felt guilty about it all – about leaving that night while the fighting was going on in Bora. Maybe he should have been more courteous, but at the time that’s not what he was thinking. He was protecting himself so he could find Owori. Shades! Now he would have to face Kara in the interviews, and who knows what she would discuss with him. If only he had talked to Pearl while in Bora. If he would have stayed one more day, perhaps he would have had that opportunity. On the other hand, he could have been killed. He sat back and closed his eyes, wishing tomorrow would be over so he could travel to Bora as Caleth suggested. He knew Kara wasn’t throwing around idle threats, so he would have to go there before they could act upon her orders. He sat up and went to the door. Smoothing things over couldn't wait for tomorrow.

  “Shades,” he muttered as he exited his room, wondering where the Bora monks were barracked.

  #

  The Grand Master, as normal for this time of day, was in his private quarters and sitting at his desk. Tea was in front of him, and he allowed himself sips as not to keep himself awake all night if he consumed the whole bowl. Tea did that. He would have to switch to hot water spiked with lemons soon. He sat back in his chair, returning the quill to the ink container. Now was the time for thinking, not writing. He had to figure out how to keep things under control. The way things felt meant the Accord of the Hand was headed for civil war. If things didn’t go Kara and Djaa’s way, he guessed there would be a contraction of loyalty. Bora and Tyilip would break off from the Accord of the Hand, and conflict would result. The only peaceful solution was to let them have their way, but he wasn’t prepared to give in to them, not even to save the Accord of the Hand. He just didn’t know what they were up to or what th
ey really wanted.

  He suspected for a while now that Kara was a Fury. She learned how to travel to Pyndira, went there, became marked, then returned to assume her role here. That was a mystery, as marked Furies were sold to families. How had she avoided that? His spies had gathered some information on what was going on in Bora, but they hadn’t been effective in sorting the truth from speculation. Thusly he involved Caleth, trustworthy and loyal, to send his best scouts to learn what they could about Bora. He sent Owori, a woman of renowned abilities, to Bora to investigate. If they discovered what Owori was doing, certainly she was dead and not simply missing – the search for her could be a ruse. His plans to understand details of what was going on evaporated into nothing. It produced rumors of a plot against him, led by a monk, Jerr, who was now dead by Owori’s hand. Often there were rumors about assassination and he didn’t take them too seriously unless there was proof. This one he did because of the Furies. They could actually make this happen.

  He speculated Kara was training a Fury army, but for what purpose he didn’t know. Hundreds of Furies, all working together, could be devastating in an attack. Why was she marked? That allowed control if bound. Why bother going through with it? The marks meant nothing in Malurrion. She was unbound, free, with no allegiance to any family. It was a possibility in the future she planned to go to Pyndira and serve a family, but would she give up her position in the Accord of the Hand to do that? He thought not. Furies were useful, but of low station. Only Furies, like his friend Akuka, were worth having influence. What he needed to know was if others in her order were marked? Or were they false tattoos? Were they destined for Pyndira or content to stay here? He didn't know. It was ironic that Salt Island, where they marked Furies, was in Ashimo, his family's province. For centuries the locale had remained secret through magic and deception, the lake virtually untouched by outsiders. Of course others were brought in, journeys of weeks and days were simulated so no one would really know how far they traveled. There were a few who knew where it was, and he was sure the Emperor was one of these people. On his next trip back home, he would send a message to Salt Island about Kara and the Furies. Answers would come from the Kolun family. It didn’t help him, though, with the problem in front of him; what to do about Kara and her Furies. He couldn’t act until he understood what they were trying to accomplish. It was his hope they could work out their political differences, but what he feared was this had turned into a search for wealth. Could someone have found out what they were doing – shuttling Ashimo’s wealth to Sabrin for safekeeping? For hundreds and hundreds of years they had done this.

  He laughed aloud, the echo haunting his private chamber.

  The Accord of the Hand was no more than a bank for the Yokai family. What better place to keep it safe? There was only one entrance on this side, and even if they did get the key from him to open the door, they would have to figure out the complex combination to unlock the vault door. Should they not figure out the levers, the floors would fall away and the outer door seal. They would be stuck in there until the rightful persons returned to find their desiccated bodies. A select few of the Yokai family knew of this secret, and they had established their connection to Malurrion from their fortress in Kenkawa to the vault, so items could be deposited and withdrawn. A banker. That’s all he was, and the Yokai family didn’t care about the Accord of the Hand to any great degree. They only cared that the Grand Masters throughout the ages were part of the Yokai family. It took manipulation and all of them served well, including him. Though, he admitted, he was more interested in the Accord of the Hand’s expansion in Malurrion than his predecessors. The Accord of the Hand had such potential, and combined with the surrounding allies and the Accord of the Spirit, they were a large empire. Perhaps he was an idealistic fool. Was there any other type of fool though?

  The one thing he feared, beyond his suspicion that Kara had a Fury army, was that a family member in Ashimo had been compromised and revealed where their wealth was hidden. If Kara was bound to another family, then what was going to happen would have deadly purpose. Conflict from Pyndira had not been taken to Malurrion for ages, centuries if he recalled correctly. Pyndira preferred to ignore Malurrion if it could. Even transporting to and from was frowned upon. Yes, Malurrion wasn’t as lush and vibrant as Pyndira, but it had its charms and delightful groups of people. Roots here were deeper than many thought, and he was certain if he put together the collected histories of the Malurrion kingdoms, it would show links to civilizations older than Pyndira. To what end, he asked himself. It wasn’t a matter of people not believing him, it was a matter of indifference. People didn’t care about this land where he made his home, and all in the service of his family. Soon he would die a false death so he could return to Pyndira and retire from his work. That time was coming. If only Seveth had survived the attack, then they could have worked together to flush out the traitors. Now he had no one to trust, no one from Ashimo.

  It made him angry a family was using Furies here, or if Kara was doing this on her own, then he would see her punished for it. If Djaa was involved, he would stand guilty with her. He was determined and wouldn’t give up without a struggle, and he reflected that his first instincts were serving him well. He had already sent a great number of his army to Bora and Tyilip through hidden routes across the wilderness, as well as a smaller force to Waskhal just in case Caleth made trouble. They were marching into the cities to become an occupying force, under the guise of bolstering defenses. Yes, the move was bold and could end up making things worse, but he had to make sure Kara and Djaa wouldn’t have a safe place to return to should it go badly here. This left Sabrin vulnerable, but any direct attack would come from monks and Furies, not from external armies.

  A knock came at the door and one of the Dragonmasters ushered in two robed figures. Akuka and Haworu strode in and bowed. The Grand Master motioned for them to sit. They took their places at the table and the Grand Master sent for more tea and hot water.

  “What news do you bring?”

  “I spoke with Feln,” Akuka said. “He’s convinced there’s a plot to assassinate you. He says he doesn’t know who, but he knows it’ll happen after the Master of Winter is named.”

  “Let me think about his for a moment.” Looking away, the Grand Master stared into the distance and absently drank lukewarm water. “With so many deaths there would be suspicion. Seveth, then me – improbable. Only if the Master of Winter is Ash would they have enough votes to elect one of their own Grand Master. Haworu must be the next Master of Winter – there is no other way to avoid this disaster.”

  “How can we be sure that Haworu becomes the next Master of Winter?”

  “I don’t know. Though I have suspicions about Djaa, he has always supported me. By supporting Kara’s nomination, I must conclude that his political support has shifted. I don’t know why Djaa has turned against me. We had an unwritten understanding, a common political view of things. He has been passive lately, tacitly waiting in the background. Another purpose is driving him, but what?

  “Caleth is trustworthy, his motives though for making a third nomination tells me he didn’t want to be the tiebreaker and he wants to stall. So he nominates Feln, who may be qualified, but most notably is one of the higher skilled fighting monks in our ranks. I have heard he could probably challenge Gargam with his skills. If this goes to a tie, there will be unarmed combat. By all rights Feln should win those matches easily.

  “Kara is the one we must watch. She has brought a large contingent with her, among them I must conclude are several marked and unmarked Furies. I have asked my Dragonmasters to keep a close eye on her.” The Grand Master took a drink of water. “So, Akuka, what proof did Feln bring that there is a conspiracy to kill me after the Master of Winter has been chosen?”

  “None. He said he was from Pyndira, claiming to be one of the Most Favoreds. Obviously, he was coached by an opposing family. The belt he has is a fine replica.”

  “I have seen it too.
What family did he claim to be the Most Favored of?”

  “Xialao, Most Favored of Safun.”

  “Convenient, the only family that doesn’t have a Most Favored. They haven’t had a leader in what, fifteen years?”

  “Twenty,” Haworu said, interrupting. “We have heard rumors that the Most Favored of Safun has returned. They say he murdered Chang. That is why Erise-na-Yokai-Iwaku had to go to Hiru, for the funeral.”

  “I have not heard this,” Akuka spoke.

  “Because you haven’t spent enough time in Kenkawa with your ears and eyes open.” Haworu ran his fingers through his twisted hair and made it sprout in more directions. “Iwaku went there and was due back just before you fetched me. You can go back and confirm it if you want. Transport to Kenkawa and see if he’s telling the truth.”

  “Why are you so worried about this?” Akuka asked.

  “Because I want to know if there are other families living here,” Haworu said. “I was told we were the only family interested in Malurrion. It's enough trouble to worry about the monasteries.”

  “A valid concern,” the Grand Master muttered. “I’ll go tomorrow, early morning. At that time, I’ll show you the secret of Sabrin. One day you will be Grand Master and continue the family’s legacy.”

  “Not if we don’t have a majority vote.” Haworu put his face in his hands. “I can fight, but I can’t beat Feln. He looks like he could rip my head off if he wanted.”

  “You’ll find a way to win.”

  “How can you be so confident?”

  The Grand Master patted the young man on the shoulder. “Because, once I understand what’s going on, anyone not loyal to Sabrin will find themselves locked in the dungeons. Those who are loyal to us will vote for you.”