by Paul Heisel
“Leave,” she repeated.
“Of course. I’ve upset you. I’m so sorry. Truth hurts, doesn’t it?”
The woman strolled away slower than when she arrived, and Owori watched as the other men in the room followed her movements. She couldn’t imagine Feln, her Feln, doing such things with Iristi. Whatever the truth was, there had to be a reasonable explanation, and she would get it from Feln. Now she was confused. Why would Iristi say such things? How did Iristi know that she and Feln were together? What was going on?
Through the door walked Feln and his dinner companion Suun – a woman no less – and Owori held her breath. There he was, at last, he was here. The emotions ran wild. He looked different to her, as if Pyndira had taken the monk out of him. The dark blue uniform fit him well and made him look sharp, and his hair was short and he had no scruffy beard. She couldn’t wait to get her arms around him. The Most Favoreds and guests began introducing themselves, Feln kept scanning the room, she hoped, for her. He didn’t look this way, it was an odd angle, and after the introductions, Iristi went over to him and tried to jump into his arms. Her blood boiled. Iristi got her arms around Feln, and tried to kiss him full on the lips, but Feln’s companion intervened and made Iristi falter. To Owori it looked as if Suun was helping Iristi, then she saw the finger hold which was causing the discomfort. Clever girl. Feln and Suun talked with Hiru and Iristi, who soon departed in a huff, then Feln looked in her direction. Her heart pounded.
#
Though not her first choice, Owori left the reception. She could have blinked and monitored the celebration, spying, but decided against it. The reasons for doing it would be selfish ones. What bothered her was this mysterious close relationship between Feln and Iristi, but she wasn’t sure of the extent. Was it physical as Iristi suggested? There had to be marginal truth in what Iristi said to her, but to be fair to Feln, she had to hear the full story. She admitted it was heart wrenching to think of Feln with another woman. For so long they had been together as friends and companions, and now he had betrayed her. She knew after the initial shock diminished, she would be angry. Angry at Feln. Angry at Iristi. The question was, who would take the brunt of her anger? Outside of the dining hall she found Qio loitering. She had seen him inside the reception talking to Yuki, then he had departed. Was he waiting for her? Qio approached her and gave a curt bow. Owori kept walking.
“Is everything well?” he asked as he quickly caught up to her.
“Fine as could be.”
“You looked upset when you came out of there.”
“I haven’t seen Feln in a long time,” Owori said.
“Is he a friend? The Most Favored of Safun?”
“You could say that.”
“I’ve seen him before.”
“Here?” She came to a halt.
“Yes, the Emperor brought him here. Qia and I followed him and Yuki into the city. They went to a tavern and had bowls of beer. They talked for a while.”
“What did they talk about?”
“We weren’t close enough to hear, only close enough to keep an eye on Yuki. My guess is Yuki likes him, if that helps any. Not many, heck no one, has a casual beer with the Warlord of Pyndira. Feln must have said something meaningful to him.”
Now that sounded like Feln. He always had a way with people. In Waskhal, everyone knew him, and it wasn’t because he was outgoing, it was because he was genuine. Feln cared about other people and he was always helping Caleth run the monastery, even if Feln didn’t realize what he was doing. Those memories made her feel warm inside, casting away doubt gathering within. She imagined Feln trying to help Iristi solve her problems, and that evil woman took advantage of his good nature. And he was so oblivious at times – it took him such a long time to notice that she wanted to be more than friends. But she was stupid enough to keep her feelings to herself. They were a sorry pair.
“Thanks for sharing that with me,” Owori said.
“You’re welcome. Once I saw you two talk at the reception, I thought you would like to know that he and Yuki had spoken before tonight. Can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.”
“What are you doing tomorrow?”
It was a leading question and she knew where the conversation was headed. Since returning from the disastrous events that led to the death of the Emperor, Qio had shown more than a passing interest in her. She was nice to him and didn’t encourage him, yet she didn’t discourage him either. Neutral, that was the best word. She liked him but there wasn’t that spark of attraction, nor did she think accepting any manner of affection would be good for her, no matter how innocently presented. She was either going to have Feln or no one.
“I’m heading to the Xialao compound,” she answered. “Feln and I have matters to discuss.”
“What about the next day?”
“Qio, I appreciate this. You’re a wonderful person and showed great qualities when the Emperor needed us most. That I admire.”
“You were incredible,” he said, eyes alight. “You saved all of us. I still don’t know how you did it.”
“It was my duty.”
“I only wanted to take you to see the gardens in the city,” he continued. “Since coming here you haven’t seen much of our city. It has lovely areas if you know where to look.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I must decline. I’ll get out in the city by myself, perhaps when things are less hectic. Thanks for thinking of me.”
“My sister said you would say that.”
“Really? What else did your sister say?”
“She said that you would say ‘no’, and for me not to get upset about it. In time you may come around to having interest in joining me to see the gardens.”
“Your sister speaks from experience, does she not?”
“You mean her and Yuki?”
“How long have they been together?”
“You mean together or together?”
Owori laughed. “I mean the last one.”
“A year or two. The Emperor didn’t like it, so they kept their relationship secret. With the Emperor gone, I think they may make a formal declaration. It will be tough for Yuki, as many nobles are hoping he would select one of their daughters, or he would agree to an arranged marriage to another family for political purposes.”
“Is that your plan, to wear me down and in a decade you’ll have me?”
“If that’s what it takes, yes. We’re not going anywhere. We both serve the Emperor. Well, I serve the Warlord I guess. When the new Warlord is selected, I’ll serve him or her. I guess you could say I'm between jobs right now.”
There was truth to his words as they were captive here in the service of the Emperor, forced by the magic to be loyal to the Nutahi family. She was stuck here and soon Feln would return to Safun. Her insides dropped. Owori looked up at Qio, a young man, but older than she. He reminded her, though, of a boy. Not in a detrimental way. She was sure his sister had sheltered him, and his daily routine had taken all his attention. She frowned at him, and no silly smirk came across his face and there was no indication that he was just being playful. To him this was serious business, but she was happy that Qio didn’t look hurt.
“My future is with Feln. For now, that needs to be the way it is. Your understanding will help me. This has been a difficult time for all of us.”
“I understand,” he told her and it was the first hint of disappointment she detected. “But I won’t give up.”
“That’s your choice.”
They walked deeper into the palace, nearing a juncture where they had to decide if they were going up or staying on the same floor. Owori went up, and Qio stood there watching her. She waved goodbye to him and went straight to her quarters. Once inside the room she barred the door, a new habit since the attack on the Emperor, and discarded her robe and the black fighting clothes. Across from her was the gilded gold mirror, showing her the woman she thought she knew. The dragon tattoos were still vibrant with color and
detail, crisscrossing her body and leaving small strips of her natural skin exposed. The accents of orange, yellow, black, and blue were the expert touches that Paq used to keep her alive. She was thinner, stronger though, and she couldn’t see any of the scratches from her recent battle to save the Emperor. She covered herself with a more substantial robe and sat down at her desk, scanning through reports to keep her mind off Feln. Everything was well and nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary.
When she retired for the evening, she was thinking of Feln and wondering what he was doing. She could see him easing into the flow of the reception and enjoying himself. Tomorrow would be a monumental day for them, their relationship, and their future. It bothered her that something happened between him and Iristi, but was it unforgivable? Her blood simmered and she had to grit her teeth to keep from getting too angry about what she could only imagine. It was suspicious, though, that Iristi flaunted her relationship with Feln so she would doubt his loyalty. That extra push was enough to make her question Iristi’s motives along with what might have happened. Iristi was upset because Feln resisted her advances, as Suun suggested, and this was her way of trying to hurt him. Plus, she didn’t know if the disdain held by the other families toward Feln added to Iristi’s theatrics.
Owori was left wondering what would happen tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. She wanted to be with Feln so badly that it hurt, and she buried her head in her blankets trying to hold back the tears. Without a way to break the magic binding, she couldn’t leave the service of the Emperor. She would remain here. The night wore on and she stared into the darkness of the room, imagined shapes came before her as she tried to sleep. Sleep wouldn’t come, though, so she dressed, put on her red robe, and roamed the palace like a ghost haunting a forgotten grave.
#
It took most of the morning for Owori to get permission from Yuki to leave the palace, and once obtained, it took more time for her to decide what to wear. She didn’t have her black outfit with the split sides, nor did she have time for the seamstress to make one for her. The formal dresses she had (and rarely wore) didn’t seem appropriate for the visit. She was sure Feln would either be in a house uniform or in monk robes. She defaulted to the norm, putting on her black fighting suit and a red robe with a hood. She strapped the Dragonblades to her, and lined the secret pockets with shuriken and short, thick throwing knives. Her hair was still a problem, not long enough to do anything with it or put it up as she would like. She had a gracious house lady help her with it, and it despite her aversion to more cutting, she allowed the woman to shape the back of her hair into what she was told was an age-old style that would make her look sophisticated, at which Owori joked it would go well with her red robes, blades, and hidden weapons. Considering her situation, she looked presentable, and as she was departing the palace, she wished she had put on a dress. It was too late now. Outside she saw there were hundreds of people lining up to pay their respects to the Emperor, and the army was out in full force to control the crowds. The guards helped by showing her a little-known back way out of the palace grounds, a heavily guarded area she was happy to see, where a carriage was waiting to take her to the Xialao manor.
Walking the palace last night gave her further perspective and a better idea of what she needed to do. Today would be difficult for them and she hoped Feln would understand. What it came down to was simple; while she was in the service of the Emperor they couldn’t be together. Physically she couldn’t go far from the Emperor or his belt. Feln couldn’t stay in Daiwer-dar as he had other responsibilities. The other aspect of this was the politics. She learned more about Feln’s family and their responsibilities from Yuki and Yan earlier this morning, and the opinions were overwhelmingly negative. The Xialao family, despite the valuable function they performed, was hated by the other families. She was taking a great risk even associating with Feln.
Ahead of her was the section of the city cordoned off for the Xialao family, the stout walls lined at the top with heavy iron spikes that not only looked dangerous, but could keep attackers out or residents in. She was allowed through the gates on foot, and she dismissed the carriage and asked for him to return later that evening to fetch her. Yuki knew where she was and if there was an emergency, he would send for her. With all the preparations for the funeral going on and anticipation of the Crypt of Warlords opening, Owori doubted Yuki would leave his study the entire day. There was so much for him to attend to.
The grounds were manicured. The green grass and seasonal plants had long since turned yellow. What leaves remained on the trees were yellow and red, most had fallen to the ground and were gathered in neat piles. Groundskeepers were collecting the leaves in wheeled carts, taking them to a pit, and burning them. The air was filled with sweet smelling smoke. She walked along the cobblestone path that meandered to the manor through fresh gardens, green shrubs, and hardy flowers that had a few reddish blooms left. House guards flanked her as they walked. The grounds opened into grassed lawns meticulously kept, except for deep gashes that a crew was repairing. At the front of the manor servants began filing out. The housemaids and kitchen staff wore aprons, the servants had deep blue uniforms, and the remaining staff appeared to be guards and soldiers. All of them lined up as if they were going to be inspected. They bowed as she walked by, a few younger servants boldly told her ‘welcome’. At the head of the receiving line was an older gentleman dressed in the Xialao uniform. He bowed the deepest.
“Welcome to our home,” he said. “My name is Emato, and if you need anything at all please inform me. The manor house is yours.”
“I’m Owori,” she announced. “I will let you know if I need anything. Thank you for the warm reception. It’s kind of you to make me feel so welcome.”
She was taken inside by Emato while the other servants stayed outside. Owori guessed they would come inside after she was taken to Feln. The manor was decorated with dark walnut paneling, accented by carvings, the floor was black marble tiles. It had a striking luxurious look that didn’t fit Feln, but she guessed it must have fit the Xialao family. Emato escorted her to a lounge, parted the sliding doors, ushered her inside, and closed them.
Feln was in front of her, standing. He looked tired around the eyes, as if he had little sleep. He was wearing a less formal deep blue Xialao family uniform. As she reflected, he looked handsome, more so than in his monk attire. Next to him was the ever attentive Suun. She looked sharp and mischievous, her blue eyes held a hidden sparkle. A less formal and more flattering uniform accented her soft features, belying the calm, collected killer beneath. That’s what she was, thought Owori, an assassin. There was one more person in the room and the man didn’t register initially. He was tall, had unkempt blonde hair, handsome face, and a crisp Xialao uniform.
“Caleth!” Owori rushed to him and gave him a hug. She couldn’t believe it! Caleth!
“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked Feln.
“I was so caught up in seeing you that I forgot I brought him to Pyndira,” Feln answered.
“Master, it’s so good to see you.”
“I’m your master no longer,” Caleth said. “I’m part of Feln’s family.”
“It’s good to see you again,” Suun said.
“Of course,” Owori said, moving toward Feln. She gave him a long lingering hug. Over his shoulder Owori could see Suun smiling and she wasn’t sure why.
“I’d like to show you the manor house and the grounds,” Feln said. “We’ll have plenty of time to talk. The chefs are preparing a feast for the whole household.”
“I’m looking forward to that.” She gripped his hand. “Where do we start?”
“In the study. I want to show you a painting of my mother?”
“Your mother?”
“That’s where the story will begin. The tunnel collapsed.”
Her insides went cold. She never wanted to feel loss like that again. “I thought you were dead.”
“So did I. I also
thought you were dead, and I thought nothing more of getting back to you.”
#
The sun was setting and the temperature dipping. Owori and Feln stood outside of the manor house hand in hand observing the swirling colors in the Pyndiran sky. The twin red moons were crescent shapes, adding an additional dimension and depth to the scene before them. Both were exhausted, eyes red from tears, both sad and happy for different reasons. They had spoken at length about what happened to both of them, the good, the bad, and the unfortunate.
#
Owori felt Feln’s strength in his hands, they were still calloused and rough from using weapons, and she reflected, that was the way it should be. She wasn’t happy with his explanation about Iristi, no matter how honest his tale was, she didn’t know why he went back to Hiru to rescue her, nor did she understand why he was so desperate to accompany her during the trip. Many times today she scolded him, telling him he should have done this or he should have done that. Hindsight was always better than foresight, yet Feln didn’t argue with her about the choices he made. There were no excuses, only explanations of what happened and what he felt at the time. It made her wonder if he fell for Iristi and wouldn’t admit it. She could accept the circumstance and the extremes they faced together, but to let her become so familiar with him was beyond reason. She felt the heat, anger rising.
“You’re hurting my hand,” Feln said.
“Sorry. Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“Iristi.”
“Oh.”
After parting from Iristi, the story was more intriguing, and she was proud of what he accomplished. Though she wasn’t the best judge of things Pyndiran, she had an appreciation for what he faced. This was a far more complicated, delicately balanced land than Malurrion. The story of the Accord of the Hand broke her heart, and she couldn’t imagine Kara as the Grand Master.
