An Emperor's Fury: The Warlord of Pyndira Read online

  The administrator in front of her was an older woman, her uniform not flattering for her pear-shaped body. Her face was red either from the warmth in the room or from the effort of talking nonstop to those seeking an audience with the Emperor. Owori doubted anyone here ever got to see the Emperor, so she would ask to see the only other person she knew of.

  “Greetings,” the administrator said. “How may I help you?”

  “I need to see Yan,” Owori answered.

  “It could take days or weeks. Perhaps if you told me what you have come here for I can better direct you. May I have your name and some details?”

  “My name is Owori,” she said, spelling it and making sure the administrator wrote it down. “The reason I’ve come here is I’m the Emperor’s Fury.”

  #

  Once it was confirmed who she was, she was whisked away to a room inside the palace and left alone for more than an hour. Patiently she sat, studying the expensive wood panels and intricate carvings, memorizing the grain patterns of the polished wood floors. She exercised her chi, as Pearl had taught her, flowing the magic from the tip of her right hand, through her arm, shoulder, chest, left shoulder, and left arm, then down her left side into her feet, up to her core, then back down and up again. The effects were remarkable, filling her with calm and making every ache in her body disappear. It wasn’t without cost, though, as it did make her tired.

  A man entered the room, shadowed by two Furies. Owori recognized them, the two who had traveled with Yan to Salt Island. One Fury gave her a tight-lipped smile, the other was expressionless. Yan was dressed in colorful informal robes and stood in front of Owori, eyes steeled.

  “We were never formally introduced,” Yan said. “I am Wotako-al-Nutahi-Yan, Chamberlain of Pyndira, the Right Hand of the Emperor. Within these walls I am an extension of his will and his power. I didn’t expect to see you. I hope your attitude has changed.”

  “I’ve come here only because I’m bound,” Owori said. “I’ll serve the Emperor though it’s against my will. Everything that has been done to me is against my will. Perhaps if the Emperor proves worthy of my skills, I will be less reluctant to serve.”

  “I see, nothing has changed and your arrogance is sickening. No matter. You will be punished for your insolence and you will serve as the Emperor’s bodyguard regardless. Take her and put her in the dungeons until she’s ready to obey. If either of you speak to her, I’ll have you whipped. Get her out of my sight!”

  #

  As directed the two Furies didn’t speak to Owori though she tried to engage them in conversation. She was taken down into the bowels of the palace to the dungeons where she was locked up in a holding area, not the prisons. She could hear faint screams, moans, and babble coming from a distance, though for the most part her cell was quiet save for the conversations of the guards. She saw twelve guards, three other holding cells that were empty, a guard barracks, and two closed doors that she presumed were the dining area and kitchen. They had neglected to take her weapons and the instructions to the guards had been simple – keep her here until Yan sends for her. She sat on the pallet with her hands in her face contemplating what she should do, if anything. They wouldn’t treat her poorly, so it would be a battle of wills. Release would come anytime she told Yan she was ready to obey, she knew that. A couple of days would be enough to demonstrate that she would not be intimidated by him or anyone else. She was curious, though, to meet this Emperor and see what all the fuss was about.

  After three days passed they came for her. She was stoic, anger simmering along with her curiosity about what would happen next. She won the battle of wills, didn’t she? The guards hadn’t bothered her, but she was forced to endure the indignities of an open cell the first day. It stopped when she stripped down to nothing and made sure all of them saw her tattoos. Now she was heading out of the dungeon with guards in front and behind, feeling grimy and unclean. She needed a hot bath, and for the first time in a long time she thought of Bora and the bathhouse where she had taken so many wonderful dips in the hot scented water. It was also a reminder of Jerr, his crushed body limp against the unyielding wall, the reason she was taken from the monastery. The reason she ended up here as the Emperor's Fury.

  The guards led her through a narrow passageway and a locked door. Ahead was a small courtyard thirty feet by thirty feet. The construction of the palace had enclosed the area as an afterthought or because of a mistake in the measurements. Over a structure this massive, it was plausible that the oddly placed space wasn’t meant to be here. On all four sides the walls stretched fifty feet high, and to her left there was a small wood balcony with a wood railing built up on stone pillars. In the middle of the courtyard was a stone post with shackles. It didn’t register at first, then her heart jumped as she realized this was where people were whipped. The guards were talking to her but she couldn’t hear because of the blood pulsating in her ears. This was the next indignity she would suffer, physical punishment, and it made her angrier. She thought the guards would be easy enough to dispatch, but getting out of the palace would be another matter. She would be hunted and it was no doubt Yan would expend numerous resources to see that she suffered. She couldn’t run away because of the binding to the belt, for if she went too far away she would weaken. Inside her the conflict stirred; it was as if her chi was fighting against itself during her indecision. She came to the startling realization that she would have to endure this punishment. There was nothing she could do.

  “Give her a thick robe so there will be fewer marks.”

  The voice snapped her out of her trance. The guards hesitated to move any closer to her. The world came back to her and she complied by removing her robes and putting on the thicker robe that was offered. On the balcony was Yan with a smug expression, arms crossed and teeth clenched. The magic inside her flared as she was taken forward and shackled to the pillar. Her back was to the door and over her shoulder she could see Yan. There was a crack from behind, then another. Practice.

  “Nothing to say?” Yan asked.

  She gritted her teeth. “Just get it over with.”

  “I will not tolerate your insolence again. You are bound to this family and you will serve, willingly or otherwise. Don’t make me punish you again. It will not be as pleasant as this.” There was a pause. “One hundred lashes. Do not stop until it is done.”

  She heard the whip accelerate back and slice through the air. It impacted on her back and the pain was searing, surprising. It had been a long time since she felt sharp physical pain. She cried out and tensed for the next blow.

  “Harder!”

  Again the whip came. Owori used her magic, creating a shield around her back. The crack upon impact was even louder, but the whip didn’t connect with her flesh. There was little additional pain. After several strikes, she could feel the cool air on her back where the robe had torn. The whip came again and again. Crack! This continued and the insulting comments from Yan fueled her simmering anger. He would pay for this one day, and the whipping would be nothing compared to what she would do to him, or better yet, what she would let happen to him.

  #

  When the punishment was through she was taken to her room. She wasn’t sure where it was in the palace, but she presumed it would be close to the Emperor or it would have easy access to where the Emperor slept. With her magic, she healed her back from the single lash she had taken, and she was glad her red tattoos viewed through the sliced robe looked enough like blood that no one questioned the effectiveness of the whipping. A short time later servants came to her room and escorted her to the baths where she cleaned up, put bandages on her back, and put on fresh black robes to cover it all. They took her to a dining hall where she ate a sweet porridge that was hot and filling, then they took her back to her room where she was instructed to wait until they came for her.

  Her room was larger than expected and furnished modestly with a hand-carved desk, wood chair, empty bookshelves, a black storage trunk, empty w
eapon stand, old mirror, and a large bed. The bed was the most intriguing item for her. It looked softer than any pallet she had slept on. The floors were polished wood, dusty in the corners, and the door on the outside wall went to a balcony that overlooked the exterior of the palace. From this vantage point she could see the entrance to the walled area, an open expanse where a massive gathering could take place, the stables and other buildings, and the monument that had piqued her interest earlier. Toward the back of the property and in front of the hills were outlines of buildings. She wondered if those buildings burned down, as all that was left were the short stone walls, almost like footprints. Farther away the hills were bigger and she didn’t see any structures, only green grass, shrubs, and trees. There looked to be a manicured walking forest. The only thing she couldn’t see from her vantage point was what was on the other side of the palace. As she thought when she arrived, she would become more familiar with the entire layout in time. There was a knock on the door and she answered it, meeting a host of people who were going to take her through orientation if she felt up to it. They understood from Yan that she wasn’t feeling well and nursing an injury suffered during her journey to Daiwer-dar, and it was understandable if she needed time to heal.

  #

  The number of people she met that first day was staggering, yet what was lacking was meeting the Emperor, the person she was supposed to protect. After her initial tour of the palace and introduction of the palace staff, an older gentleman named Isas took her to a meeting room, where he instructed her on what she was responsible for and what her priorities were. Of utmost priority was making sure the Emperor was safe at all times and this included when he traveled. Her second priority was to see to the safety of the palace and the Empire, of which the Emperor would give her more specific instructions later. For the next three hours and into supper, he went over the rules and regulations of the palace, protocol, and who was who. He spoke to her with great respect and was never condescending as Yan had been. After a time and a swish of his robe, she saw a tattoo on his arm. She realized this gentleman was the Emperor’s Fury who willingly had served the Emperor for decades.

  During their travels, Pearl had briefed her on the politics of Pyndira and what she could expect, and what Isas told her confirmed what she had learned from Pearl. The palace was political and she wouldn’t be immune to it, so there was no sense fighting the conventions of a working government or questioning the decisions the leaders made. Her role was that of a protector, and if in time she proved to have political savvy and intelligence, the Emperor would consult with her. Until then, his advice was don’t be opinionated about the workings of the Empire. She learned that Isas was retiring in the coming weeks, thus he wouldn’t be spending much time with her after the transition. His choices were limited because he was a Fury, and despite his age and diminished abilities, he couldn’t go to his boyhood home, nor could he find a small village and live out the rest of his days in anonymity. He was marked for life and had to be with a family. Isas didn’t want to return to Salt Island, instead he chose to live on the palace grounds, where he would spend time as he pleased. There was a hint of sadness in his voice when he talked about leaving the Emperor’s service, and Owori realized Isas and the Emperor were good friends. It would be difficult for him to leave his position, and that was why it was best if he didn’t interfere when she took over.

  With that in mind, the next day she followed a host of servants to another part of the palace that she hadn’t seen yet. It wasn’t too distant from her quarters. Ahead was a long hallway, the floor’s polished boards shined and she did not see one scuff. Down the middle was a rich blue carpet woven of fibers that Owori had never seen before; parts of it reflected the flickering light to create sparkles. It looked as if you were walking on sparkling water. The walls were solid marble stones, heavy construction for being so high in the palace, and solid columns went from floor to ceiling. The hallway was decorated with curtains and tapestries, and every twenty feet there were two guards with long spears. At the end of the hallway were two massive doors, both went from floor to ceiling in height and were wide enough to drive two wagons through. The guards at the door each wore black leather armor with a golden dragon on the breastplate, and they too had long spears for weapons, a long knife on the right hip and a longsword on the left hip. Their swept helms had a dragon sculpted on top and looked more decorative than functional. Owori figured these guards were great fighters, warriors of the best sort, and honored to have this duty. They looked battle hardened and scarred. Her only criticism was how they were arranged in a formal manner, in a constricted space, with long weapons, medium weight armor, and stationary positions. She thought that a handful of Accord of the Hand monks under her direction could dispatch them rather easily. She wondered what the Emperor’s opinion would be of her assessment. Then she wondered, would she even have the chance to offer that assessment?

  They led her through the doors into a grand suite larger than most homes. It was decadent and had the most wealth she had ever seen in one place besides the vault on Salt Island. There were gold statues, paintings, rich silks, handmade furniture, golden suits of armor, and exotic weapons on display. This was indeed a room fit for an Emperor. A bed big enough for ten people was nestled against the wall to her left, partially obscured by portable screens with black lacquered frames that were inset with hand-stitched silk. Closer and deep to the left were the weapons and armor, displayed in racks and on dummies carved out of wood. Far to the right were a library, desks, chairs, and a place where meetings could take place. In the middle of the room and suspended from the dome was a chandelier made of golden blown glass that resembled swimming jellyfish. The back of the room had a dozen wardrobes and she imagined an uncountable number of clothes were within.

  The air smelled strongly of tart apples and cinnamon spice. She saw activity behind the screens near the bed. From it came a man dressed in layers of black and gold crinkled robes, she thought it to be quite gaudy as the clothes looked puffy. The man was older, bald, and had sharp eyes. Flanking him were servants who helped dress him, both women were patting and pulling his clothes so they fit just right. Behind her she heard the outer doors close – apparently her escorts weren’t staying.

  “Leave us,” the Emperor told the two servants. They bowed and darted toward the doors, departing immediately.

  “My name is Toro-et-Nutahi-Shimoyu, Emperor of Pyndira.” He bowed.

  “I’m called Owori.” She bowed in the same manner.

  “Yan tells me you refused to come with him when he departed the island. Why?”

  “My binding to your belt was not done by choice, so I’m here against my will. I’m bound to serve by the magic of your belt. Without that, I wouldn’t here. I would be…elsewhere.”

  “Your honesty is commendable,” he told her.

  “I will give honest answers to you.”

  “It’s not going to change your obligation to the Nutahi family, though. You’re a Fury, and by law you must either be bound by a family or remain on the island. The circumstances of your arrival have nothing to do with your service to the Empire and to me. Understand?”

  “Understood,” she said, and she was surprised when she felt her magic stir.

  “Now that we’ve cleared that up, I need you to be my protector. Later today I’ll want a demonstration of your talents. Is it fire, frost? Lightning?”

  “None of those,” she answered.

  “What can you do?”

  She thought about blinking, but she took the advice Pearl had given her – keep that a secret. If they found out she could become invisible, then she would be used as a spy or assassin. Being the protector of the Emperor, she reasoned, was more palatable than those duties. At least in the Emperor’s service she would be safe from the unpleasant reality of secret warfare. “I can create shields,” she said, “to block attacks and projectiles. I can project my martial arts beyond my physical reach, landing blows without hitting someo
ne. I can grab things, people, move them. I can show you. We don’t need to arrange a demonstration for later.”

  The Emperor looked perplexed. He hid his expression and motioned toward the sitting area. “Let’s move over here and talk. We can do the demonstration in the presence of others. The Furies here are curious about you and so are the soldiers who protect the palace. You are the Fury with two dragon tattoos.”

  “As you wish,” she said, standing.

  “We’ll get you settled into the palace routine, my routine. I’ll have tea brought and we can get down to specifics of your duties. No doubt Isas briefed you. I also need to learn more about you if you’re going to protect me.”

  “I think you have that switched around,” Owori said as she took a seat in the comfortable red velvet chair. The size of it swallowed her. “I’ll need to know more about you if I’m to adequately protect you. And I’ll need to know this palace, its workings, layout – everything. No door is to be locked to me, no area is off limits. We can make your palace secure if I know it intimately.”