by Paul Heisel
“What am I missing?” Owori asked Yuki.
“The fewer people who know the better,” was his cryptic answer.
“Why don’t you just paint a sign on the side of the caravan that says ‘Emperor in here’?”
“If there is anyone lying in wait for us upon the road, they will try to take the caravan. I doubt this will happen, but we’re prepared for it.”
“How am I supposed to protect the Emperor when he’s being blatant and obvious?”
“You’ll come to the cottage late tonight, with my father, while the rest of us go ahead as willing decoys. When you receive a note from me, it will state that everything is in order at the cottage. We will have confirmed the safety of the location at least three times over.”
“Then use a code word,” Owori said, feeling foolish that she hadn't seen this coming.
“My horse’s name is Demon,” he said as if he had anticipated her request. “Demon will mean we made it safely. Anything else, even if I say things are in order, will indicate something is wrong.”
“Noted,” she said. “Am I traveling alone with the Emperor?”
“As father and daughter,” Yuki said, laughing. “I can’t say that I ever wanted a sister, but I guess you’ll have to do.”
Owori laughed in kind. Yuki was the only one that joked with her and the only one besides the deceased Isas that appreciated her quirky sense of humor. Everyone else was serious around her, particularly the other Furies. She didn’t blame them, though, she hadn’t opened up to anyone since arriving as she had been too busy. A playful retort came to mind, but it didn’t reach her lips. It reminded her of Feln and she suddenly missed him. It pained her that she hadn’t heard from him, not even a note, nor had word come from Pearl. She felt alone. Isolated.
“Can I ask a question?” she spoke.
“Of course,” he replied.
“Why doesn’t the Emperor take his dragon? Wouldn’t that be safer?”
“His dragon can only take him part of the way. The dragons won’t go near where the previous Emperors are entombed. We’ve tried, believe me, and with disastrous results. Besides, my father said he wanted to talk to you without distractions. The road will be the best place to do that.”
“You better get going,” she said. “I’ll see you later big brother. You are older than me. Much older. And of slower mind and body.”
The remainder of the day Owori went about her regular duties, rested after midday, then put on traveling clothes given to her by the house servants. Her normal palace outfits she packed so she could change when they arrived. She made sure she had the twin Dragonblades with her – those were easily concealed under her peasant dress. All she was waiting for was the confirmation from the Warlord that all was well. Late that night she received a note from one of the servants, and it didn’t say all was well. It contained one word; Demon. Without fanfare, they departed the palace and traveled through the city by the street lamps. Once upon the edge of the imperial city, they navigated the road by the light of the twin red moons and lanterns. A few stragglers were on the road, hurrying toward the city, and while they traveled, no one paid them any mind. An hour or two into the night they stopped, made a small camp, and rested until morning.
The next morning the Emperor was talkative and it reminded Owori that he was a person, living, breathing flesh and blood with feelings, haunts, hopes, and desires. They spoke about his late wife who died of a rare disease that took away the use of her muscles. From what Owori could gather, he missed her a lot and had no interest in replacing her with another. He had an heir to the throne anyway, so procreation wasn’t required, and he claimed he didn’t have a need for close female companionship. Later that morning, he went into a long drawn out speech about how Owori had made the palace better through her changes. He was proud of her accomplishments and respected her talents. He presented her a pink hibiscus flower for her to wear in her hair, explaining it was not native to this area and he had selected it specially for her. It was from warmer climes in the south, carefully cultivated, cared for, and transported fresh just for her.
When questions of her past surfaced, she was as vague as she could be in response and repeated the story Pearl concocted for her. By no means was she to let anyone know that she had lived in Malurrion, as they may not understand. The Emperor expressed interest in her past, and the conversation always turned to another subject when she bored him with unnecessary details of her life at the monastery. One thing she had learned about Pyndira was monastery life here was perceived as boring, and she supported that notion for her own good. Here the monks were more like their brethren in the Accord of the Spirit, taking on worthy tasks for the good of others and keeping in touch with their spirituality. Yes, there were fighting monks like the Accord of the Hand, but not in great numbers as far as she knew.
She could tell that he was proud of Yuki, his son’s only failing, though, was finding a woman to marry. The Emperor had a good laugh when Owori told him, ‘don’t look at me.’ That comment loosened him up enough that he started talking about Yuki and his secret that wasn’t so secret; his relationship with Qia, his Fury. The Emperor didn’t doubt that Qia would be a good wife, the issue was the expectation for Yuki to marry a woman from Daiwer-dar nobility or for him to take a wife from one of the other families. He admitted he wasn’t a matchmaker, lamenting that his late wife would have been better at that. The day wore on and he talked about Yuki’s accomplishments as a proud father would, and how he would make a great Emperor when the time was right. He spoke about politics with her, but it didn’t make any sense to her except when he started talking about Feln and the Emperor’s quandary about what to do with him. Apparently the Most Favored of Safun was accused of another dastardly act that would need special attention, and recent laws were created to make sure the Most Favored of Safun would be judged. Owori probed for more information, but she just didn’t know Pyndira well enough to convince the Emperor to elaborate the necessary details. It made her worried for Feln. What were these special laws?
Halfway into the evening they took a side path, almost invisible in the darkness, traveling into the trees on a meandering path. There they were met by Yuki, his Furies, and the Dragonguards carrying lanterns. They went past the garrison and traveled another mile through thickly wooded forest. When they broke free of the forest into a large clearing, they could see structures. Ahead Owori could see the cottage, if it could be termed that. It looked more like a hunting lodge – what Yuki called it – and it was large. Lights burned from within and she could see movement through the first-floor windows. Servants and cooks were busy. Just beyond the cottage was another structure similarly built, but less detailed in the design. She could tell it was quarters for the servants, cooks, and performers brought for entertainment during their stay. To the left of the cottage hundreds of feet away were stables and small sheds, set closer to the forest.
The main cottage was two stories and made completely of shaped wood logs, which Owori guessed by the surrounding forest that appropriate trees were abundant. There was a covered porch in the front complete with hand carved benches. The sloped roof was steep to help keep the snow from accumulating, and chimneys stuck up in several places like fingers pointing high into the sky. Servants received them as they arrived and ushered them to the warm interior out of the cool night air. Four stable boys arrived and took the horses. The first floor was open living space, large enough for dozens of people sleep if they needed to. The cooks were busy in the nearby kitchen, grand smells of freshly cooked meat and vegetables filled the room. There was wood furniture spread about in different areas with tables to set drinks and food on. In the middle was a great pit, over it was a roasting boar. A chimney made of iron hung down from the ceiling, whisking away the smoke through the roof above. The servant turning the spit was red from the heat, reminding her of the pig turner she had seen on Salt Island. The decorative colors of the interior were green and gold, and the cottage felt rustic. At the
back were stairs leading to the second floor that looked like it wrapped around the main living area in an ‘L’ shape. It was a handsome lodge, spacious and comfortable for the number of people in attendance. Around the perimeter were spears on display as well as preserved heads of fearsome boars with wicked tusks.
“Your quarters are upstairs,” Yuki said. “Qia and Qio will show you.”
The two similar looking Furies nodded to Owori. She knew they were not twins because Qia looked older than her brother. Both were assigned to protect Yuki, yet she didn’t fully understand why he needed two Furies.
“At first light I want to explore the grounds,” Owori said.
“That’s only a few hours away,” Yuki said. “I suggest you get rest, then we can show you around. We’ll wake you mid-morning.”
“Do you think the Emperor’s enemies are resting?”
“No,” Yuki said.
“Wake me at first light. I’ll take a nap after I’ve seen the grounds.”
“We’ll take her on a tour,” said Qia. “You rest.”
“Very well,” Yuki said. “Make sure you take food with you when you go.”
“Why is that?” Owori asked.
“It’ll take a while for us to see everything,” Qia answered. “A few hours, maybe more. It depends on how many questions you have.”
“She’ll have lots,” Yuki said. “So you better take two meals with you.”
Owori glared at him. “I wouldn’t be doing a good job if I didn’t ask questions from time to time.”
#
They were positioned at the entrance to the forested area, where Owori and the Emperor had traveled in the darkness and where they had met Yuki. There were enough trees and winding paths to discourage anyone coming from the road. According to Qia, only a few accidental discoveries of this area had occurred, and the Emperor’s family kept the location a secret for a long time. Besides, this was Daiwer-dar, the Emperor’s province. They couldn’t recall the last time an enemy army had come close to the borders.
The remainder of the morning they toured the grounds, questioned the garrison commanders, inspected the troops, and made a complete loop around the lush valley. She couldn’t find fault with what they had done; the area had natural protections so any large force wouldn’t be able to come from any direction except where the garrison was stationed. Any individual trying to cross the wilderness would find it difficult to travel, as the brush and trees were thick and the terrain along the valley had steep walls with slippery shale formations. A mile distant, farther into the valley, was a graveyard where the Emperor’s ancestors were laid to rest. It was widely thought that all the Emperor’s tombs were in the palace near the Crypt of Warlords, when in fact all their ancestors were here. The ashes of those who had passed on were in mausoleums, buried, or kept in urns on display at the gravesite. It wasn’t quite noon when they finished the inspection, the autumn sun not obscured yet by clouds rolling in from the west. Owori returned to the cottage for rest and time to think. There was something the garrison commander said that bothered her.
Though not preferred, Owori slept a few hours and woke refreshed in the late afternoon. As a result, she was famished. She was wearing her crimson Dragonguard robes and her tight fitting black suit underneath. She left her room and appeared at the top of the stairs, gazing at the activities. The Emperor and his guests were in the great room having an early dinner or a very late lunch. Performers from the palace were playing music on string instruments. The Emperor and Yuki were enjoying themselves, looking quite relaxed. They had brought with them close friends, cousins, and nobles. All of them had been disguised as servants during the trip, so Owori gave credit to Yuki because they had fooled her. Qia and Qio were on guard, hanging back in the corners and staying out of the way. They were proficient at that. As she went down the stairs, the full effect of the aromas hit her. The food smelled wonderful.
The kitchens were constantly at work, cooking meals for the group and catering to their individual needs and desires. They erected portable screens to block the kitchen, from behind it the shadows were frantically moving about. The cooks gave her a plate of venison steak with green and yellow beans. She stayed in the kitchen and ate from the counter, away from Emperor, not wanting to be part of the celebration. Her thoughts drifted to Feln, and she wondered where he was, and what he was doing. How long would it take Pearl to get to Safun to meet him? Would he come to see her right away? Pearl warned her, though, that Feln’s ability to see her would be limited – he was part of the Xialao family – not necessarily everyone’s favorite. As Pearl explained it, Feln was responsible for punishing Pyndira’s families for crimes and transgressions between the families. It was said the families despised the power the Xialao family held, and detested the family for being true to their purpose.
The plate in front of her was clear except for a few mouthfuls; she didn’t have the appetite to finish everything. The bowl of wine they gave her was untouched. In Waskhal, she would have had wine or ale with dinner, particularly with a plate of hardy stew. The taste for wine was lost to her now, nor did it have any appeal. Instead she drank lemon flavored water, which made her think of lemon and orange groves. Only once, on a trip to the warmer southern climes in Malurrion, had she seen the glorious fruits. The cooks offered her a baked apple dessert and she declined. The kitchen staff continued their work and scurried around. She watched the activity, a wonder of organized confusion, then heard a disturbance in the middle of the hall. The screens were pulled back. Striding right toward her were six servants with the roasted boar. A curved board collected juices, though some managed to get on the floor, and behind then came servants cleaning the oily drips with cloths. Owori moved out of the way. She caught the eye of Qio, the younger sibling, and he frowned. He was slightly taller than she, his dark hair cut so it was short enough to stick up on end. Flat features and brown eyes, light brown skin, he looked only a bit older than her but had a boyish quality to his disposition. She walked over to him.
“How was the food?” he asked when she arrived.
She checked her initial ‘well met’ that had become her normal greeting in the Accord of the Hand. “Good,” she answered. “Did you have anything?”
“Bread,” he said. “I don’t get too hungry at these things.”
“Why not?”
“Too nervous,” he answered. “I’m paranoid something is going to happen to the Warlord and I’ll be responsible for not protecting him well enough. I like it better when we stay at the palace. I get nervous enough when he wanders about town disguised as a commoner.”
“Remain vigilant,” Owori said, not sure where the words of encouragement were coming from. “Can I ask you a question? Actually a couple of questions?”
“Of course.”
“Why are there two Furies guarding Yuki?”
“Oh that’s easy. My sister, who’s older than me, has been his constant companion since he was a teen. She’s been his protector for a long time. After I was marked as a Fury, they brought me to Daiwer-dar to replace the Fury who watches over the Warlord of Pyndira. When Yuki attained the position, I was assigned to him. He had three Furies for a while. It drove him crazy.”
“I can imagine. So one of you protects the Emperor’s son, the other protects the Warlord.”
“Basically.”
“I don’t mean to be rude, but what are your talents?”
Qio laughed. “It’s not rude, you know we Furies don’t take offense. You must have lived a sheltered life on the island.”
“That’s a good way to put it, my life was as sheltered as it can get. I may ask questions that a normal person or a Fury wouldn’t ask. I don’t want you to think poorly of me.”
“Were you on the island for a long time?”
“Not really. I’ve been away from normal society,” she said. “I spent most of my life in a monastery, learning to be a monk. We had a strict upbringing and rigid schedules all centered around the operation of the
monastery. Enough about me, what’s your talent?”
“I can produce frost,” he said. “I’m good at creating blocks and walls of ice. When I was younger I could build small houses out of my magic.”
“What can your sister do?”
“Fire. We’re opposites. She’s never nervous like I am. She’s always serious and confident, even when she’s wrong she just keeps plowing forward through the rocks even though she knows any planted seed will not grow. Actually, she’s not fun at all. Always responsible. Teacher’s best student always. I don’t see the appeal.”
“The older sibling has to be that way sometimes,” Owori said.
“You don’t know how many times I’ve been told that. Everyone is trying to justify her dreary existence. The only thing that she gets excited about is Yuki.”
“I heard about that.”
“Not that I object, mind you,” he said. “Like I said, I don’t see the appeal.”
“She’s quite lovely,” Owori spoke. “Distinguished, elegant, graceful.”
“Please, spare me. She’s a brat, and I should know, I spent most of my life with her. What else do you want to know?”
“This is more off our current topic. Do you remember the garrison captain?”
“Barka? Of course. He may not look like much of a fighter, but I hear he’s skilled with a blade, almost as proficient as Yuki.”
“I’m sure he is. Do you remember when he was telling us about when the patrol thought they saw animals roaming around the cottage?”
