by Paul Heisel
“No, you don’t have to do it. I will hold true to my word, believe me.”
“I pledge my loyalty to the Xialao family,” Pearl said, staring at him the words coming to her extemporaneously. “Until death releases me, I will serve faithfully and uphold the needs of the family and needs of the Most Favored. I do so willingly and without reservation.”
The belt tingled with new energy and he knew the magic had bound her to his family, her willingness made it immediate. He felt guilty as he had two Furies in his service that he didn’t intend to have. Maybe Pearl was doing this because she was stubborn and knew he didn’t want this done. Tasha and Hector departed, satisfied, leaving them alone.
“So be it,” he muttered.
“Don’t you have a question to ask me?”
“Where is Owori?”
“She’s safe, on a secret island where they mark the Furies. It’s in Ashimo. Few know of its true location.”
Feln nodded. “How do we get to her?”
“The best thing to do is for me to return to Bora so I can transport to Pyndira. I’ll collect Owori and bring her to Safun, if that’s what you wish.”
“Yes, yes,” he said, relieved. “And the others? What about the other Furies?”
“We can transport all of them to Ashimo via my connection, then we’ll travel in small groups to Safun. I’ll work out the details. Tell me, where is your connection to and from? Waskhal?”
“No, my connection is from Borgard castle to the city of Hou in Emesia. It happened by accident, believe me, if I could choose differently I would. Can I go with you? To the island in Ashimo? Then all of us could travel together.”
“We can try,” she said, “but the belts are particular when they have made a connection. We may get to Bora and you won’t be able to transport, and you’ll have to go to Borgard anyway. It may just waste time, and you’ll still have to travel from Hou to Safun. You couldn’t pick a spot farther away from Safun.”
“Tell me about it.” Though Feln wanted to try, his gut told him that he would have to transport to from Borgard to Hou. It would cost him additional time if it didn’t work, and Suun was waiting for him in Hou anyway. He would have to let Pearl keep her part of the agreement and see everyone safely to Safun. It was a wonderful thought that Owori would be waiting for him at his new home. He smiled. “I’ll go to Borgard as you suggest. Let’s not take a chance with me not being able to get to Ashimo. Will you be able to take our monks from Waskhal?”
“In fact, I would prefer it now that you mention it. We’ll need to have unmarked persons with us as we travel. A group of Furies roaming around Pyndira would bring about suspicion.”
“Once Caleth gets back we’ll finalize plans and details,” Feln said. “I think we should depart Sabrin tonight if we can.”
“No argument here.”
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A half hour later, well into the night, Caleth returned with a small group of monks and five horses. He explained to Feln that twelve wanted to come with them, while the other eight were skeptical and had reasons to stay behind. He did have one of the twelve who volunteered to bring other monks from Waskhal if it would be beneficial. Feln decided it was a good idea, and traveling on a horse, the volunteer could be to Waskhal and to Bora without much delay. Moments later, Pearl gave the monk instructions where to go in Bora and sent him on his way back to Waskhal. She told him that she, or one of the Furies here, would transport back periodically to pick up any stragglers.
The fires waned and the large group gathered together, distributing what provisions they had, and putting the bulk on the horses. All but Caleth and Feln would travel to Bora to transport to Pyndira with Pearl’s help. She dismissed the occupying army as being a problem. They would manage. Before they departed and went their separate ways, Ryl gave Feln a goodbye hug and Pearl gave him a half smile half smirk. Thankfully Tasha convinced Ryl to come with them to Salt Island, explaining that she would get to see Feln several weeks from now.
“So how does this work?” Caleth asked as they plodded along the road with a lantern lighting the way.
“How does what work?”
“You’re the head of the family. How does it work?”
“I’m the Most Favored of Safun, the leader of our family and province. My word is law and rarely does a Most Favored have anything they do questioned. You are a Favored One, part of my family because of the belt you wear. Favored Ones fill various roles within the family; warriors, leaders, businessmen, and protectors. That belt is the key. In Safun you’ll be respected and recognized immediately as being an important part of the family. Outside of the borders of Safun, you must be vigilant. Discovery that you’re from another family can be dangerous for you. Particularly our family. We aren’t well liked.”
“I have so many questions,” Caleth said. “I don’t know where to start.”
“First thing we need to do is give you a name. My name is Feln-en-Xialao-Narneth. The naming convention normally has the last part of the name being what you want to be called. Mine is backwards, but no one seems to mind. So we need to grant you a family name. If you are ever asked for your formal name, this is what you must give.”
“Do you think the Grand Master is dead?”
“If he isn’t, he will be soon. Once they find the key to the vaults underneath Sabrin, he will be of no use to them.”
“I’d like to use part of his name, to honor him and the Accord of the Hand.”
“Even after he trapped us in the church? Left us for dead?”
“He was desperate. Who is to say if we would we done anything differently?”
“I don’t’ know,” Feln responded. “I’m not sure we had many options. Kara was going to execute her plan regardless of what we were going to do. And Djaa missing from all of this worries me.”
“So you don’t mind if I use part of his name?”
“Not at all. Maybe it will remind us of the chaos this greed fostered.”
“Montishari Gatôn,” Caleth muttered. “How do I do this?”
“Montishari-en-Xialao-Caleth is an example. Or you could do Gatôn-en-Xialao-Caleth.”
“I like Gatôn.”
“Then all you need to do is pick the second two-letter modifier. Vowel and syllable, like ‘ur’, or ‘ot’ or ‘en’ like mine.”
“How about Gatôn-et-Xialao-Caleth?”
“That sounds good. Just keep repeating it over and over. Remember, if you’re asked to give your formal name, you must give it. It may save your life.”
“Gatôn-et-Xialao-Caleth, Favored One of Safun,” Caleth said. “Sounds very formal. Is that correct?”
“It is. And it’s supposed to sound formal.”
Feln smiled, happy to have Caleth with him, a person from Malurrion who would understand where he had come from. Having Caleth working with him would be welcome, now he had a dependable leader to help him manage Safun. He imagined Caleth would make a perfect captain of the guard, a warrior to watch over the palace and organize the security. It was adequate now, he was sure of that, but it would give him comfort to know that Caleth was there protecting his interests. They didn’t travel far that night and made camp as best they could. In the distance, they could see tiny pricks of light, Sabrin, on the horizon. They both slept until later in the morning, then they made their way to Borgard as fast as possible. From there they would transport back to Pyndira, and Feln was determined never to go back to Malurrion.
The Warlord of Pyndira (preview)
Chapter 1 - Awake
The winding roads that Pearl traveled she had never taken before. Faded signs and townsfolk promised her it eventually led to Daiwer-dar. This road meandered through lush hills and dark forests that were common in Hikimi. She reflected, this used to be her home. Further to the east near the coastal forests was where her family lived, unless her mother had moved again, and she thought that was highly probable. Pearl purposely didn’t think about it. It was too much to endure for any length of persistent thoug
ht. After the death of her father, her mother moved them around, in fear, to prevent them from being marked. Pearl and her mother fought and words were said that can never be taken back. Promptly she departed and did the one thing her mother despised; she received her marks with the intent on staying on Salt Island forever. From there she fled to Malurrion with the help of a friendly Fury, and she hid. There she discovered the Accord of the Hand and other unmarked, untapped Furies. Months later she found Bora, became friends with Kara, and began teaching about magic. The found others who had the gift who wanted to learn. After establishing her connection back to Salt Island, Pearl collaborated with the Kolun’s moving Furies back and forth. The remainder was a blur now.
Her attention was back on the road. Today she scared off desperate bandits with a display of magic, and she knew more was in store if she didn’t remain alert. Owori was weak and partially conscious, and in time she would be strong enough to talk and hear the good news she bore. Feln was alive and they would get to see each other soon. It wouldn’t be as either of them had planned though. Paq, at her urging, sent a message on her behalf to Safun so Feln would know that Owori was with the Emperor. She hoped Feln would understand. The way she saw it, he didn’t have a choice. He would be angry, she was sure of that.
The first week on the road softened her anger over Owori’s binding. She didn’t blame Paq. She did blame his father and his greed. She felt stuck, frustrated because she would be unable to fix the situation. Owori’s trust in her was most likely shattered. It was impossible to break the bond between a magic belt and a Fury; Owori would have to serve the Emperor, just as she would have to serve Feln and the Xialao family. There were myths about breaking the bond between Fury and belt, and she knew of them well. It was rumored if a Fury’s master died and the belt went unclaimed, after a time the magical binding would wane. What complicated this was most Furies were bound to the family and not a singular belt. Loss of a belt or it changing hands or families didn’t change the magic or change the Fury’s allegiance. Perhaps if the Emperor died, the forced bond would be broken. Pearl shuddered at her next thoughts. Getting rid of the Emperor wasn’t an option and never would be. The other way to break the bond, it was said, was to take an unclaimed Most Favored belt, have the Fury wear it, and will it to break all bonds. The chance of a Most Favored belt being unattached and in her possession was next to impossible. If Feln died, yes, maybe it was possible. Again, his death wasn’t an option and she was certain Owori wouldn’t want to consider that path. Without the ability to break the bond, though, Owori would have to serve the Emperor and his family. It would be best to prepare Owori for her new role and not expend energy trying to break a bond that couldn't be broken.
Her thoughts wandered. Her decision to bind herself to Feln for the good of her Furies came to mind, and she wondered if any of the rumors Paq told her were true. It sounded like speculation, and she couldn’t believe that Feln would come to Pyndira and announce his presence by murdering a Most Favored. It didn’t fit his character either. Most likely he was outmaneuvered by those who wanted Chang dead, those who could benefit from his death. When she arrived in Safun, she would get the full story either from the family or from Feln.
The sun dipped on the horizon and she came to a wooden bridge that spanned a large crevasse. The churning river below was hundreds of feet away, the drop dizzying. She hurried across because the opposite side would be a perfect spot for an ambush when it was dark. The horse’s shoes clopped on the worn wood planks, the sturdy bridge creaking in the wind. Pearl drove the wagon, pushing the horse faster so they wouldn’t be caught near the bridge. In the distance, on a high hill, she could see the ruins of an ancient temple. It was overgrown with trees; the most recognizable feature was a gray stone arch. The shivers that went down her spine made her urge the horse on. She didn’t know why the temple had been abandoned long ago, and if bandits weren’t hiding there, then other creatures were. To the east the twin red moons shone with exceptional clarity, the sun to the west was waning. Ahead she could see the lights of a village, quiet and unassuming. She neared, noting the militia and makeshift barriers blocking the road were to keep bandits away. She explained to the guards that she was seeking shelter for the night, and they promptly motioned toward a large boxy inn in the middle of town. It was square shaped and two stories high, with a long sloping roof and ample eaves to keep falling rain, snow, and sleet away from the building. The roof’s wooden shingles were gray and covered with bothersome moss. The wooden plank walls were warped by time. She brought the wagon to a halt and jumped down. They were another day closer to Daiwer-dar, she thought, the capital couldn’t be more than a week of travel away. Pearl regarded Owori’s prostrate form, wishing she would wake. This was the hardest part. Taking an unconscious person into a business without drawing attention was impossible. A reasonable explanation, like sickness, was believable but not always accepted and was additional grounds for being turned away. People in nearby homes and businesses peeked their heads out of decorated doors and dirt stained windows. Pearl took note of them while she went to the covered portion of the wagon, waving to the more curious folks as if she knew them. She pulled back the canvas cover and opened a small pack that contained the wealth she had taken from Paq. To her surprise and delight, Owori was awake. Though she didn’t look any better than before, at least she was conscious.
“Feel like walking?” Pearl asked.
“Where? Where are we?”
“All in good time. Let’s see if you can sit up.”
Owori pulled herself up with Pearl’s assistance, coming to a sitting position in the wagon.
“I’m sore,” Owori said. She swooned but Pearl caught her.
“I’ve tried to move you into different positions so you wouldn’t get too sore,” Pearl said. “You’ve been lying down for weeks. Now that you’re able to sit up, you’ll heal quickly. We need to get you stronger. I know a few tricks that will help you.”
Reaching into the wagon, Pearl pulled Owori toward the edge. Between her strength and Owori’s, they got her out of the wagon and on her feet.
“The ground is cold,” Owori said.
“I have your boots for you when you’re ready to walk more,” Pearl said, looking at Owori’s bare feet. “Until then, I have slippers for you. Let's get inside.”
Pearl threw the pack over one shoulder and gripped Owori tightly with her other hand. Together they walked into the establishment, aptly named The Cliffside Inn. It was cozy inside, sparsely decorated with patrons leaned over bowls of wine, ale, and stew. She paid for room and food, asked to proprietor to look after her wagon, and took Owori upstairs to their room. It was a struggle to get Owori up the stairs and Pearl could feel the collective eyes of the common room upon them. Pearl put Owori on the bed and fetched warm water from downstairs, washed Owori’s feet, and put on slippers to keep the chill off.
“I feel better,” Owori said. “Explain to me what’s going on?”
“How about some good news first to lift your spirits?”
“There is no good news in the cursed place. These tattoos were forced upon me, as was my service to the Emperor. What good news could you have?”
“I found Feln.”
The tears of joy came pouring out and it wasn’t the last time that evening that Owori would weep.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 - Stability
Chapter 2 - Paths
Chapter 4 - Refused
Chapter 5 - Return
Chapter 6 - Emperor
Chapter 7 - Xialao
Chapter 8 - Executed
Chapter 9 - Naïve
Chapter 10 - Malurrion
Chapter 11 - Search
Chapter 12 - Bora
Chapter 13 - Assassins
Chapter 14 - Sabrin
Chapter 15 - Exodus
Chapter 16 - Winter
Chapter 17 - Trapped
The Warlord of Pyndira (preview)
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Paul Heisel, An Emperor's Fury: The Frayed Rope
