An Emperor's Fury: The Frayed Rope
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Feln was about to answer when another monk entered the room.
“Master,” the monk said. “I’ve been asked to bring you to a meeting. Djaa, Kara, and Abram are being summoned as well.”
“What’s this about?”
“I was told to bring you to a meeting with the other Seasons and Abram to discuss the upcoming vote. That’s all I know.”
“Thank you.” Caleth grabbed his Master of Summer robe and donned it. As he left, he gave Feln a concerned look.
#
It was a room deep in the old part of the monastery, hardly used, dim and dismal. The alight candles brightened the mood, but the collection of dark paintings of storms and stormy seas on the wall suppressed any light. Caleth glanced at the others assembled here, trying to ascertain the purpose of the meeting. The Sabrin monk who led them here departed immediately, saying he would return with modest refreshments. Everyone remained standing, silent, so whoever called the meeting wasn’t talking. Or wasn’t here yet.
“Who’s responsible for this meeting?” Caleth asked.
The three others indicated they didn’t call it.
“I was told to come here to talk about the vote,” Kara said.
“As was I,” Djaa chimed in.
“That’s what I was told as well,” Abram said.
“Me too. Then all we’re missing is the Grand Master,” Caleth spoke. “I don’t think he’s well enough to attend. So if no one called this meeting, then why are we here?”
“Or one of us won’t admit they called the meeting,” Kara said, casting a glance in Caleth’s direction.
“It’s obvious. The Grand Master wants us to work out the vote ahead of time,” Djaa said. “That’s the answer to our question.”
“We haven’t conducted the interviews,” Caleth said. “How can we discuss anything until we’ve had the opportunity to speak with the candidates? I don’t know Haworu or Ash. This meeting is pointless.”
“Pointless or not, the Grand Master wants us to discuss the matter ahead of time.” Djaa straightened his robe.
“I don’t like this,” Caleth said.
“Or is there another reason you don't like it?” Kara asked.
The door to the room opened. In stepped the head Dragonmaster, Narahashi. Caleth had seen him before on previous visits. Like all the Grand Master’s protectors, he was a tall, solidly built monk with a hidden intensity. These were fanatical warriors who would do anything to protect the Grand Master. It was a shame that Owori didn’t make it to Sabrin. She would have been a great addition to their ranks.
“Good evening,” Narahashi said, bowing. His red robe stood out. “The Grand Master has asked that I attend in his place since he has fallen ill. I’m sure you’re all wondering how the Grand Master is faring – he is doing better and the sickness isn’t as serious as we thought. He should be back to his regular routine in a day or so.”
“What is the purpose of this meeting?” Caleth asked.
“I believe the monk who summoned you briefed you on that, did he not?”
“Indulge me,” Caleth said.
Narahashi closed the door. “The Grand Master asks that you discuss the upcoming vote as a group. He understands that the interviews haven’t taken place. It doesn’t mean that you can’t discuss it.”
Caleth recalled the times when Kara and Seveth were nominated to advance as the heads of their monasteries. After the initial meeting, there was open discussion about the candidates and interviews immediately after. It took no more than a day to complete everything, and the final selection of a Season concluded with a joyous celebration. When he advanced, so long ago it felt, there was no opposition so he won by default. Regardless, the process was similar with no delays. He doubted the Grand Master’s sickness was genuine, so there had to be a reason that he wanted the vote delayed. Caleth sat down at the table and tried to think of what the Grand Master was trying to accomplish. He wondered, perhaps, if it was to give Sondossasya more time to question the visiting monks while the leaders were busy.
“I have been asked by the Grand Master to lead the discussion and to facilitate. Tea is being brought. We can have anything else brought that you desire.”
“Why are we meeting in this room?” Kara asked. “One of the regular meeting rooms would have been sufficient.”
“I know the rooms here in the older part of the monastery are not as comfortable as our other meetings places. For that, I apologize. The reason we are meeting in this room is because it isn’t accessible except for that door. Behind the other three walls is solid earth. There is no opportunity for unwelcome ears to hear our discussion, so you can be candid.”
“I don’t understand the need for this,” Kara said. “Are you saying there are spies?”
“The extra security is not because the Grand Master fears spies. His concern is having all of the leaders in one accessible room together, which would make it easy for one devastating attack to cripple the Accord of the Hand leadership.”
“If he was so concerned, then he should have left us with our monks,” Kara said. “Bringing us together like this is probably worse! Or better yet, let us go back to our monasteries!”
“It would take a formidable force to get this far into the monastery. There are guards everywhere.”
“Force?” Kara questioned. “There are monks who can sneak about undetected. Caleth, you know this to be true. All it would take is one skilled assassin!”
Not responding, not moving a muscle, Caleth figured this was the purpose of the meeting. Narahashi had trapped Kara, so he made no response as he didn’t want to be implicated in this by any means. The mistake was simple and Caleth could see that Djaa was realizing it too. Narahashi mentioned a threat, and anyone loyal to the Accord of the Hand would have assumed an outside kingdom or faction would want to get rid of the leadership in order to invade. Kara assumed the danger was internal, coming from other monks, and she implicated herself as the suspect. Caleth was sure as soon as the tea came that a message would go out to Sondossasya, ordering him to question Kara’s monks first or detain them in total.
The silence became uncomfortable.
“If there’s a matter of security that concerns this monastery or the Grand Master, I would know of it,” Narahashi said. “Caleth? What say you to her statement about these stealthy assassins?”
“I have already spoken with Sondossasya about security matters,” Caleth answered, deciding he should disturb the hornet's nest. “There is no need to repeat it here. Waskhal will cooperate with the interrogations.”
“What interrogations?” Kara asked before Narahashi could say anything.
“The Dragonmasters are going to question monks from each monastery,” Caleth said, clearly to the distress of Narahashi. “While we are gathered here to talk of things that we shouldn’t be talking about – the upcoming vote, they are taking our monks one by one and interviewing them.”
“I forbid this!” Kara hissed. “This is unacceptable!” She stood, knocking her chair over. Djaa stood as well. Everyone was up and looking to Narahashi for answers.
“This meeting is over,” Djaa said. “We will reconvene when the Grand Master is healthy. Out of my way!”
#
The hallways, though lit with torches, were dreary. The old part of the monastery made Caleth pause. The walls were old, stout blocks of sandstone hewn from a forgotten quarry. Ahead of him Kara stormed away, and he was certain what he revealed would make his old friend Sondossasya unhappy. The prospect of interrogations rattled Kara. Maybe she thought one of the monks would buckle under questioning and give Sondossasya reason enough to incarcerate Kara or worse, further implicate her in the conspiracy. In his view, things were starting to fall apart. Though it would be unlikely that Kara’s plan would succeed, whatever it was, he was certain if the leadership of the Accord of the Hand was destroyed and only a few monks were left to rebuild, they could do whatever they wanted. If it all happened within the confines of Sabrin, the oth
er monasteries wouldn’t know what really happened. The victorious would write any version of the conflict that they wanted.
Back at the barracks, Caleth went about looking for Feln but couldn’t find him. It was evening and the cloudy day gave way to more thunder storms, the rain driving against the windows and walls. Others were returning from supper, and no one knew where Feln was. Caleth hoped Feln wasn’t out and about, as the violence of the impending storm looked nasty, and he hoped Feln wasn’t in the monastery sneaking around. Not now, it was too risky.
#
The near darkness and the swirling storm made it difficult, but Feln kept a good pace so he could get back to the barracks. When the rains began, he was as far away from the structures as you could be and not be outside of the monastery walls. The guards stopped him many times, delaying him further, and when the rain came down in buckets, he realized an evening walk, free of storms, was too optimistic. Earlier the storms looked too far off to intrude on his jaunt outside. It didn’t matter, as he was wet now and wouldn’t dry out until he was back with the monks from Waskhal. There was a lot on his mind. He spent several minutes speaking with Sondossasya about security, and endured other questions that made no sense whatsoever. He answered them anyway.
He was thoroughly soaked, the rain relentlessly pounding down. Lightning flared in the distance and the rumble followed seconds later. The skies were a dark gray, it was nearly dusk, and the bright lanterns spread about the grounds swayed against the growing wind. The outside walls of the barracks were within his sight, the lights blazing from windows served as beacons for him to follow. He could see outlines of figures in the windows and he relished the thought of getting out of the rain and having a solid roof over his head. As he was about to make his way across the grass, he saw a solitary person scurrying along the wall. The figure was dressed in dark robes, as he was, and was moving from point to point as if he was following someone. Feln diverted.
The figure saw him and waved him over. It was Ash.
“I took a walk and got caught in the storm,” Ash said.
“As did I. Is there a problem?”
“I don’t know. I saw a monk over there and he looked like he was trying to hide.” Ash pointed into the distance near the entrance to one of the smaller walking gardens. “By those trees. The lanterns are out all along that path. Curious.”
“Should we alert the Dragonmasters?” Feln asked.
The lightning flared again. Near the dark oak trees Feln saw two figures. Once the brief light was gone they disappeared in the gloom, and Feln drifted forward, hoping his eyes would adjust so he could see what they were doing. The nearby lanterns weren’t helping his vision any. Ash came next to him.
“I see them!”
Feln followed Ash’s outstretched arm. One monk was running toward the building, looking as if he was going to collide with the wall if he didn’t stop. The other lifted his hands and unseen magic came forth. Feln’s stomach dropped at the sight. The running monk leaped into the air, caught an invisible wave of force, and was propelled up to the roof.
Ash ran forward.
“I’ll get help!” Feln yelped.
“No time! Come with me!” Into the storm Ash went after the monk who was on the ground and now fleeing. Ash shot out his arms and from them came twin streams of fire. The bright fire illuminated the area, giving Feln a better view as he went to the building. The monk stood his ground and deflected the fire, shot out his arm, and sent Ash flying back a dozen feet into the mud. Feln ran into the nearest door, calling for guards and the alarm. Monks were slow in responding to his pleas, so Feln started up the stairs calling for help while he searched for a way to get to the roof. There had to be a way to get to the roof. Suddenly behind him was Ash, nose bloodied, runny mud dripping from his robe.
“Are you all right?” Feln asked as he came to the top of the landing.
Ash nodded. “Got away.”
Feln opened the window at the top of the landing. He went out on the ledge and maneuvered his way to protruding bricks. With a steady hand from Ash, and a heave and a stone decoration, Feln made it to the roof. Leaning down and holding out his arm, Feln returned the favor and helped Ash up. The roof here was made of clay tiles and was at a gentle pitch, and with the rain pounding down it was a slippery surface. Feln discarded his heavy robe and scrambled to the top of the slope, then he ran down the length of the peak toward where he had last seen the monk. Ash was right behind him; he too discarded his burdensome robe. It was dark up here, causing Feln to slow down as he couldn’t see where he was going. Below him the grounds were lit and above him the storm cast more lightning about. Over the roof’s ridge a monk was traveling, moving with great purpose. He wasn’t running, but he wasn’t walking. Feln was certain he didn’t know he and Ash were on the roof with him. They could take him by surprise.
Ash and Feln followed on independent routes to outflank the intruder. Ash was taking a different path, swinging around toward flatter roofs so he could run faster. Not diverting, Feln continued ahead, his eyes locked on the monk. Ash was now farther away and circling so he could approach the monk from the side. Above the lightning flashed. The monk stopped where a dome protruded from the regular roof line. He was still oblivious to him and Ash.
From the monk’s hands came frost, all directed at the dome. The structure froze and the Fury continued to blast frost until the rain around him turned to sleet. The ice spread along the dome and went to the roof surrounding it. Feln pulled the Dragonfly katana from its sheath and closed the distance. The Fury looked up. Ice shot out toward Feln, freezing the wet roof in front of him. He hit the ice and slipped, skittering down the slope in a direction he didn’t want to go. Hail, snow, and sleet rained down from above. The full brunt of it missed Feln, but the Fury was correcting his aim. Heat arrived in a fiery blast and the shower of ice turned to cold water.
Feln skidded to an abrupt halt on the roof where the ice ended, regained his footing and started anew. Ash and the Fury were throwing fire and ice at each other, neither had an advantage. He went back toward them, hit a patch of ice, slipped, regained his feet, and went after the Fury with sword ready. Ice came at him in a sweep, and only the fire from Ash kept him from taking the full brunt of it. It chilled him, though, and his clothing stiffened as it froze. He continued forward, rigid clothes resisting his movements. Ash fell to his knees and his fire waned. The Fury took advantage and sent Ash sprawling, then he turned his attention to the dome. He blasted it again, then took his ice-encased fists and hammered on it until a hole appeared in the masonry, an opening leading to the unknown. More frost poured into the hole, then the Fury slithered into the hole and disappeared.
Arriving at the breached dome, Feln dropped into the unknown without hesitation. He slid down a shaft of ice. Streaks of blue jellyfish went by and the brightness of the chamber dazzled him. He spun this way and that, trying to find a hold or protrusion to slow his descent, but there was nothing but ice. Hitting the floor jolted his legs and nearly knocked the wind from him as his knees hit his chest. Cold saturated him, nipping at his ears and nose first. It hurt to breathe in the frigid air of the room. To his left was the Fury, covering the area with deadly frost. One person was already frozen solid, a blue statue. Farther to his left double doors opened and guards rushed in, only to encounter a blast of cold from the Fury. They scattered to the side, slipping and sliding. Amidst them was Akuka, unaffected by the frost, who stormed straight ahead.
Warmth came. Ash arrived and was using the last of his magic to restore heat to the room. Feln saw him collapse; Ash was spent. Taking steps forward, Feln found reasonable footing and charged. He let go of the Dragonfly blade so there would be no mistaking his intentions. The Fury was turning, his magic depleted as well. They collided, and Feln wrenched the Fury to the ground, twisting him until he had him firmly held by the neck. The Fury struggled and lost consciousness. Releasing the Fury, Feln looked up to Akuka and the other guards who were recovering.
“Haworu is certainly dead,” Akuka said, pointing to the frozen man near the Grand Master’s desk.
Feln pushed the unconscious Fury to the side, rolled, and found a hand waiting for him. Ash pulled him to his feet. The Grand Master appeared from behind the refuge of the bed. He looked unharmed. The guards did as they were told and secured the Fury.
“There better be a perfect explanation,” the Grand Master said as he gazed at the frozen Haworu, “of why both of you came sliding through the roof right behind this assassin.”
“We saw him on the roof,” Ash explained. “We climbed to the third story, went out a window to a ledge, and climbed up to follow him. We figured he was up to no good.”
“There was another who was helping him,” Feln added. “He escaped near the walking forest, the gardens with the large oak trees in front. He helped him get to the roof.”
“We had nothing to do with this, if that’s what you’re implying,” Ash said. “I was coming back from a walk when the storm hit and I saw two monks loitering near the trees. The lanterns had blown out or were put out, so they were hard to see. Their presence didn’t feel right to me.”
“I had finished my interview with Sondossasya,” Feln said, “and took a walk toward the gates, but underestimated when the storm would arrive. I was caught in the downpour.”
The Grand Master looked at the gaping hole in the dome. Rain was streaming in, melting the column of ice the Fury created to aid his descent. Bits and pieces of the broken chandelier were strewn about. The Fury stirred from unconsciousness. “Take them for questioning,” the Grand Master commanded. “I want to know who sent that man to kill me.”
Dragonmasters took the Fury, bound his feet and gagged his mouth, then dragged him toward the door. Additional Dragonmasters arrived to take Feln and Ash away as well. Without warning, the column of ice came crashing down, smashing on the floor and showering the library with frigid shards.