by Paul Heisel
“Words of a desperate man,” Haworu said. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way.”
“What would you have me do?” the Grand Master asked.
“I don’t know enough about the situation to offer useful advice, I’ll admit that. I’m still trying to catch up. Forgive me for my outburst.”
“I forgive you, but it is true, you don’t know enough yet to be useful. That’s why when these assassins are caught, they will talk, and they will take me straight to the traitors. Anyone associated with them will be locked in the dungeons or annihilated. I’m finished with being tolerant and on the defensive. Akuka, assemble my Dragonmasters and bring them here. I have tasks for them.”
#
There were guards at each door to the barracks where the contingent from Bora was staying. They let Feln go to Kara with an escort, the guard insistent that Kara wouldn’t want to speak with him. They went up three flights of stairs and down to the middle of the building. It was quiet on the floor and there was no activity in the hallway. The Bora monks, it appeared, had turned in for the night. The escort made Feln stand aside and wait. He rapped on Kara’s door, spoke to her through a crack, then motioned Feln forward.
Once inside the room, Feln could see from her expression that she had calmed down. Her hair was tossed about – presumably she was trying to sleep but was getting none. She was tired and looked exhausted, from what he didn’t know. The candles flickered and the room brightened as Kara lit more candles. She was wearing a short, black silk robe that clung to her body, the sash was cinched tightly around her slender waist. Her features were soft in this environment and her curves were accentuated by the tight robe. She sat on the pallet and smoothed down the fabric, leaving her hands on her thighs.
“Say what you have come to say,” she spoke.
“I’m sorry that you were offended by my actions in Bora. It wasn’t on purpose.”
“Apology accepted. Didn't you think that I would be concerned about your wellbeing?”
“I understand, but you don't need to be concerned. I should have informed you, my mistake, I was wrong.”
“You didn't come here to apologize, did you? That was your sacrificial statement in exchange for whatever it is you want. I may not be as forthcoming as you think I will be.”
“I spoke with Ash today. He told me that a woman named Pearl was Owori’s instructor. She may have insight on where Owori went. I want to speak with her. Did she happen to travel here with you?”
“No, she is in Bora,” Kara answered. “Please sit. Relax for a moment.” She patted the spot on the bed next to her. Feln, instead, sat on the empty cot a few feet away. “Pearl will not give you answers.” Kara put her hands over her cheeks. The low light of the room made her lightly tanned skin darker than it was. “The night you departed, there was a fight between Jerr’s monks and mine,” she said. “Had you not departed, you would have seen the monks casting magic at each other. I’m sure when you left you saw the fires?”
“I did.”
“Jerr’s monks put a contingency plan into effect. The attack was a diversion. We believe fifty of his monks, all knowledgeable in magic, escaped Bora that night. Once we discovered they were gone, I sent scouts to track them down so we would learn more of their purpose. None of my scouts returned. After that, I could only conclude they were heading to Sabrin to put their plan in place to assassinate the Grand Master. I sent messages here to warn the Grand Master of a potential attack. According to the Dragonmasters, there weren’t any disturbances here other than the fires in the western part of the city. I expected to find Sabrin in turmoil when I arrived, being torn apart. Thankfully it wasn’t. What worries me is this; I don’t know where Jerr’s monks went. Believe me, they are a force to be reckoned with. They could strike at any moment and destroy the entire leadership of the Accord of the Hand in one attack. The Grand Master, Caleth, Djaa, and you – me – all of us are in grave danger. The longer we are isolated in this monastery, the worse it’s going to get. I want to get this business of Seveth’s replacement taken care of and get out of here. I won’t feel safe until I’m back in Bora.”
Feln listened, not sure what he should believe. Kara was saying all the right things, but his heart told him different. She was making it seem like she was on the right side, scared, so he would empathize with her. He wondered if talking to Pearl would give him a different story. Besides, who was leading these renegade monks if Jerr was dead? Why wouldn’t they just leave in peace? Why did they hate the Grand Master so much? That’s what was lacking here; motive. Why kill the Grand Master unless there was something to gain? He also noted Kara's unavailability to help defend the Grand Master against the impending attack, all she wanted was to get back to Bora.
“There is so much speculation,” Feln said. “Kara, all I want is to discover Owori’s fate. I want to know what happened to her. I want to find her.”
“Feln, she’s gone, dead to us all. If you haven’t found her by now in the places you know she would go, she’s probably not alive. I’m sorry to say that to you, for I know you cared for her and she for you. Nothing can change what’s happened.”
It stung to hear those words and he didn’t want it to be true. He couldn’t, though, imagine where Owori would have gone. The Accord of the Hand was her home and that was all she knew. If she were alive, she would have contacted Caleth as a minimum. But no such communication happened. She would have found a way to send a note or leave a trinket behind for him. She would have done one small thing to let him know she was alive.
“I don’t believe it,” Feln said. “I can’t believe it.” He stood up. “I won’t believe it. I’m going to talk to Pearl regardless of your dislike for me or any decree you have made about me not being welcome in Bora. I’m going to talk to her.”
Kara stood at the same time as he. The sash loosened and her robe fell open in the middle, revealing a strip of flesh from her breasts down to her midsection and legs. She was completely bare, bereft of any hair, her skin supple. He could see small white scars where blades had nicked her, the only flaws he could see on an otherwise lovely body. Her muscles were tone and she looked strong and agile. Just like Owori.
“I harbor no dislike for you, in fact it’s the opposite. You don’t have to go,” she said. “I want you to stay so we may enjoy each other’s company. At least we can have that before Jerr’s monks descend upon us. We’re trapped here like rats on a ship.”
His nerves shattered, as he wasn’t prepared for this, and he delayed his inevitable negative response. It reminded him of Iristi, using her wiles to blind him, eventually making him take the blame for Chang’s death. Even Suun used her looks to trick Kojo into capture. This, he thought, had to be another ploy to convince him that she wasn’t part of the conspiracy to assassinate the Grand Master. He wasn’t going to fall for it. Not now, not ever again. All he wanted was to put this Master of Winter business behind so he could go talk to Pearl.
“Most decisions in life require deep thought,” she spoke when he didn’t respond to her offer. “There are times, though, when you should act on instinct. You should take what’s in front of you and not worry about things you cannot grasp.” The black robe slipped from her shoulders and silently settled on the wooden floor. “You look like you need a friend. You're so serious, you look like you need to laugh, to have some fun. I promise you all those things, and more, tonight, every night we would be together. You know, the first time I met you, when you came to Bora, I thought – now this is a man I would like to get to know better.”
Feln stared into her dark eyes. He could see she was intent on this, willing to give herself to him without reservation. She was panting softly, pulsating with passion and desire. She looked ready to pounce, to accept him, and elevated on the balls of her feet, her body leaning in his direction. Before she could move forward in an embrace, Feln put out his left hand and steadied her shoulder. Her skin felt warm and soft to his touch. His eyes lingered on her shoulder, the green sna
ke tattoo vibrant. The snake’s eyes on her shoulder stared at him. The chill that went through him was alarming. Her breathing quickened, chest heaving with each inhale. Feln bent down to one knee, letting his hand slide down her shoulder and along her tattooed arm to her wrist. Kara gasped, anticipating what he was about to do. With his free hand, he picked up the silky, black robe. Then he stood, keeping her at arm’s length, and draped it over her right shoulder to cover the green serpent.
“I have been told before that I should take what is in front of me,” he said. “It was wrong then. And it’s wrong now.”
Her head cocked to one side and she looked at the black robe.
“I admire your devotion,” she said. “I hope she’s worth all of this trouble, dead or alive as the case may be.”
“She is.”
“A word of advice,” Kara said as she slipped on the robe and cinched the belt tight. “Pearl will not be as pleasant or as cooperative as I am. If you cross her, it won’t be her robe that comes off, it will be your head.”
The veiled threat was clear. Kara was in fact talking about herself ripping off his head and not Pearl. This was his last opportunity to have Kara’s assistance, or non-interference, if he wanted it. The cost would be too great by engaging in an unwanted physical relationship with her. This made him more curious about Pearl and Owori, and their relationship as student and teacher. It gave him hope if Kara was inferring that Pearl would be difficult. He imagined she was the opposite.
“I can fend for myself,” he told her. “Thank you for your concern. Do I have your permission or not to talk to Pearl in Bora?”
“Pearl will grind you into dust.”
“Your negative portrayal of Pearl intrigues me. I’m thinking she’ll help me where Owori is concerned. Are you going to allow me access to Bora or not?”
“It doesn’t matter. Few of us, if any, will leave Sabrin alive. Yes, by all means, go to Bora. Talk to Pearl. See if she knows anything about your precious Owori, which she doesn’t. Do you want your remains returned to Waskhal for interment or should you be buried in Bora where you die?”
“Rest well,” Feln said, ignoring the question.
“I’m looking forward to tomorrow and the interviews. Sleep well. I’ll have many questions for you.” With that she took him by the arm and ushered him out of the room.
Chapter 15 - Exodus
The acrid smoke and crackle of fires were minor distractions she tolerated. Pearl marched through the grounds with her faithful Elites attending her for protection. The air was fraught with the sounds of battle, and every so often a Fury would unleash a fireball or a lightning strike across the courtyard. She didn’t know what was happening, but she was happy that Owori was safe on Salt Island. The situation had exploded into violence because of Jerr’s death, and Pearl would see to it that the fighting stopped at once. She counted many dead soldiers and monks, the majority of them from Tasha’s group of inexperienced Orchids. They must have either thought themselves more talented than they were or they were braver than they were smart. This had to stop now before more perished needlessly.
Ahead Pearl could see Kara and a small group of monks. They had taken cover behind the garden’s short fieldstone walls. They were crouched down and whispering. Another burst of flame lit up the sky, the fire streaked toward the main monastery building, impacted, and in an explosion, rained down fiery fragments on the ground. The stout stone building took the brunt of the attack and remained intact, charred black on the outside but not significantly damaged on the inside.
“What in shades is going on?” Pearl ducked down at the wall with Kara. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t use that tone with me!” Kara spat.
“I’ll use whatever tone I want! What the shades is happening?”
“Jerr’s Furies are out of control,” Kara answered. “A few of them decided to take their frustration out on everyone, but it’s hard to tell what really happened. The fighting erupted and I came out to stop it, but it’s too dangerous. I fear ultimately that Owori is responsible for this by uncovering Jerr’s plot, killing him, and fleeing. I presume you took her?”
“It was the right thing to do, otherwise she’d be dead. Again I’m correct!”
Another explosion rocked the building, shattering windows and hailing glass inside and to the ground below. The bright lights subsided and they were in near darkness again, the only light was the courtyard lamps illuminating the serpentine walking path and small roof fires.
“I’m open to suggestions,” Kara said. “When Jerr died something must have happened with his monks.”
“A predetermined plan, I’m sure,” Pearl said. “If I die, do this, if this happens, do that.” She could hear shouts as monks and soldiers moved about the grounds, taking up defensive positions. She wondered if anyone knew who was who, or if they knew who was on what side. In the dark they could kill friend and foe alike and not know until the casualties were examined. “We need a truce to stop the fighting so we can talk this over. If Jerr was devising a plan to kill the Grand Master, then he got what he deserved. What we must do is preserve the lives of these monks. Further bloodshed is not acceptable.”
“That’s why I’m open to suggestions. How are we going to stop this except by force? I see no other alternative.”
“I’ll handle this.” Pearl scrambled to the side of the stone wall and slipped into the open. A hand motion kept her Elites from following her. She kept low and used gnarled hedges for cover, then as soon as she found a better spot she stood up. She walked forward, her attuned senses guiding her. She saw movement to the side and she rolled forward, hearing a whistle of an arrow go by. It clattered against stone pavers in the distance. She stood again, wary, but determined.
“Hector! This is madness! Come out and talk to me!”
She stood there, on the defensive, waiting for the next arrow to come zinging at her or for a fool to use magic. If Hector was sensible, then she could defuse the immediate situation and bring the parties together to talk. She had to protect the Furies from further destruction. A monk came from the corner of a building, his orange robe garish in the flickering lamp light. The courtyard became still. A breeze swept through, tossing Pearl’s robe and hair to the side. Hector came forward, alone. He was solidly built, a rock-hard man with broad shoulders and a mean disposition. As Jerr’s second in command, Pearl thought him a good choice for a leader to execute contingency plans. He was a man who would get things done no matter what the circumstance or cost.
“She magically appears once again,” Hector said.
Pearl bowed. “Well met.”
Hector did the same.
“What is this nonsense?” she asked. “Why is magic being used here?”
“It’s not nonsense. One of your Elites killed Jerr and we want her blood! If we must go through everyone in this monastery, then we will!”
At least he was straightforward and to the point. She had to take a different tack than what she felt; she needed to act like Kara, the leader of the monastery. Based on Kara’s reluctance to jump into the middle of the violence, Pearl concluded Kara didn’t care who got killed. This added another dimension to the situation, one she would have to decipher. “This is not how we conduct ourselves in Bora,” she spoke. “The gifts we possess are not for revenge and destruction. I happen to know that Jerr attacked Owori and she defended herself. I suggest that you tell your Furies to stand down. Tomorrow we will hold council and discuss this matter in a civilized manner. You, Tasha, Ash, Kara, and I. We’ll sit down and figure this out. Can you get that through your obtuse head?”
The monk looked away as if seeking answers from the dimly lit courtyard. There were none there. Pearl stepped forward and put her hand on Hector’s shoulder.
“There’s no other solution,” she said softly so no one else but Hector could hear. “Besides, you know that if this continues my Elites will not stand for this. Is that what you want, defeat, complete annihilation? Do you kn
ow what my Elites can do? They can do things with their magic that you can’t even imagine. They have talents you don’t know about, that no one has ever seen. Is that what you want?” That seemed to hit home. Fear of the unknown. Doubt. Uncertainty.
“We’ll talk tomorrow as you suggest,” Hector said. “Tell the other monks to return to their quarters and I will do the same for the Furies. Give us time, though, to account for the dead and injured.”
“Agreed.”
“We’ll convene after the noon day meal. Just the five of us.”
“Afternoon it is. I’ll spread the word and send monks to help with the casualties.”
#
“Commendable,” Kara said. She sipped herbal scented tea while she lounged comfortably on her oversized pillows.
Pearl stood by, rigid, not moving a muscle. It was well after midnight. She was tired and wanted to rest. Though not an ideal meeting time, this was necessary to determine what Kara was thinking. “Commendations are not what I want,” Pearl said. “There are twenty dead or injured monks from this fracas.”
“And?”
“How could you let this happen?”
“I was in no position to stop it. ‘How could I let this happen?’ Owori and Jerr are the ones to blame for what’s happened. I don’t know why or how this started!”
“You are the leader of this monastery. Of course you could have stopped it! After Jerr’s death you should have called for a meeting before anyone could start making accusations! Instead you let it go. You let this fester!”
“This happened before I could call a meeting.” Kara motioned for Pearl to sit with her on the pillows. “Please sit, have some tea, make yourself comfortable. You aren’t yourself.”
“You don’t understand the worth of your own monks. They are marvels of magic, a wonder of nature. In Pyndira they are priceless assets that can make a difference to a family. They’re hard to find, difficult to train without interference, and even harder to control satisfactorily. What we have done here in Bora is remarkable. What happened tonight must never happen again!”
