The Wall of Storms, page 1
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CONTENTS
MAP OF THE ISLANDS OF DARA
MAP OF THE LANDS OF UKYU AND GONDE
A NOTE ON PRONUNCIATION
LIST OF MAJOR CHARACTERS
WHISPERING BREEZES
TRUANTS
FALLEN KINGS
PRINCES AND PRINCESSES
GRAND EXAMINATION
MIMI
THE HUNDRED FLOWERS
TEACHER AND STUDENT
A DRINKING PARTY
PALACE EXAMINATION
A BALLOON RIDE
THE CRUBEN-WOLF
CRESCENT ISLAND
MERCHANTS AND FARMERS
THE HIKE UP THE MOUNTAIN
A REBELLION OF SCHOLARS
FIGHTING FIRE
THROUGH THE VEIL
HEIR TO THE EMPIRE
PARTINGS
GUSTS AND GALES
THE MAGIC MIRROR
MOTHER AND DAUGHTER
THE EMPEROR’S SHADOWS
LETTERS FROM CHILDREN
AN OUTING
TESTS AND COUNTERTESTS
LIGHT AND REASON
REBELS OF DARA
REFUGE
EMPRESS AND MARSHAL
ZOMI’S SECRET
A VISIT TO THE LAKE
BATTLE OF ARULUGI
MATTERS OF HONOR
UNEXPECTED NEWS
TEMPEST FROM THE NORTH
THE COMING OF THE CITY-SHIPS
STRANGERS
THE PRINCE’S STAND
THE EMPRESS’S REQUEST
THE FARSEER’S DEPARTURE
THE CORRUPTION OF RA OLU
THE INTERPRETATION OF A LETTER
INVASION OF RUI
A TASTE OF VICTORY
THE VOYAGE OF LUAN ZYA
AN INTERLUDE
PRINCE AND PRINCESS OF UKYU
MAPIDÉRÉ’S EXPEDITION
THE LYUCU AND AGON
THE DREAM OF CITY-SHIPS
HOMECOMING
A TRAP
THE MARSHAL’S DECISION
DISCOVERIES
THE AID OF TAN ADÜ
THE SILKMOTIC FORCE
THE PRINCE’S FLIGHT
CLASH OF TYPHOONS
A PLAGUE
DREAM OF THE DANDELION
BATTLE OF ZATHIN GULF, PART I
BATTLE OF ZATHIN GULF, PART II
MESSENGER FROM AFAR
PARTING OF THE LOTUS SEED
GLOSSARY
NOTES AND ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
For Lisa, Esther, and Miranda, supra omnia familia
A NOTE ON PRONUNCIATION
Many names in Dara are derived from Classical Ano. The transliteration for Classical Ano in this book does not use vowel digraphs; each vowel is pronounced separately. For example, “Réfiroa” has four distinct syllables: “Ré-fi-ro-a.” Similarly, “Na-aroénna” has five syllables: “Na-a-ro-én-na.”
The i is always pronounced like the i in English “mill.”
The o is always pronounced like the o in English “code.”
The ü is always pronounced like the umlauted form in German or Chinese pinyin.
Other names have different origins and contain sounds that do not appear in Classical Ano, such as the xa in “Xana” or the ha in “Haan.” In such cases, however, each vowel is still pronounced separately. Thus, “Haan” also contains two syllables.
The representation of Lyucu and Agon names and words presents a different problem. As we come to know them through the people and language of Dara, the names given in this work are doubly mediated. Just as English speakers who write down Chinese names and words they hear will achieve only a rough approximation of the original sounds, so with the Dara transliteration of Lyucu and Agon.
LIST OF MAJOR CHARACTERS
THE CHRYSANTHEMUM AND THE DANDELION
KUNI GARU: Emperor Ragin of Dara.
MATA ZYNDU: Hegemon of Dara (deceased).
THE DANDELION COURT
JIA MATIZA: Empress of Jia; a skilled herbalist.
CONSORT RISANA: an illusionist and accomplished musician.
COGO YELU: Prime Minister of Dara.
GIN MAZOTI: Marshal of Dara; Queen of Géjira; the greatest battlefield tactician of her age. Aya Mazoti is her daughter.
RIN CODA: Imperial Farsight Secretary; childhood friend of Kuni.
MÜN ÇAKRI: First General of the Infantry.
THAN CARUCONO: First General of the Cavalry and First Admiral of the Navy.
PUMA YEMU: Marquess of Porin; practitioner of raiding tactics.
THÉCA KIMO: Duke of Arulugi.
DAFIRO MIRO: Captain of the Palace Guards.
OTHO KRIN: Chatelain to Emperor Ragin.
SOTO ZYNDU: Jia’s confidante and adviser.
KUNI’S CHILDREN
PRINCE TIMU (nursing name: Toto-tika): Kuni’s firstborn; son of Empress Jia.
PRINCESS THÉRA (nursing name: Rata-tika): daughter of Empress Jia.
PRINCE PHYRO (nursing name: Hudo-tika): son of Consort Risana.
PRINCESS FARA (nursing name: Ada-tika): daughter of Consort Fina, who died in childbirth.
THE SCHOLARS
LUAN ZYA: Kuni’s chief strategist during his rise, who refused all titles; Gin Mazoti’s lover.
ZATO RUTHI: Imperial Tutor; leading Moralist of the age.
ZOMI KIDOSU: prized student of a mysterious teacher; daughter of a farming-fishing family in Dasu (Oga and Aki Kidosu).
KON FIJI: ancient Ano philosopher; founder of the Moralist school.
RA OJI: ancient Ano epigrammatist; founder of the Fluxist school.
NA MOJI: ancient Xana engineer who studied the flights of birds; founder of the Patternist school.
GI ANJI: modern philosopher of the Tiro states era; founder of the Incentivist school.
THE LYUCU
PÉKYU TENRYO ROATAN: leader of the Lyucu.
PRINCESS VADYU ROATAN (nicknamed “Tanvanaki”): the best garinafin pilot; daughter of Tenryo.
PRINCE CUDYU ROATAN: son of Tenryo.
THE GODS OF DARA
KIJI: patron of Xana; Lord of the Air; god of wind, flight, and birds; his pawi is the Mingén falcon; favors a white traveling cloak.
TUTUTIKA: patron of Amu; youngest of the gods; goddess of agriculture, beauty, and fresh water; her pawi is the golden carp.
KANA AND RAPA: twin patrons of Cocru; Kana is the goddess of fire, ash, cremation, and death; Rapa is the goddess of ice, snow, glaciers, and sleep; their pawi are twin ravens: one black, one white.
RUFIZO: patron of Faça; Divine Healer; his pawi is the dove.
TAZU: patron of Gan; unpredictable, chaotic, delighting in chance; god of sea currents, tsunamis, and sunken treasures; his pawi is the shark.
LUTHO: patron of Haan; god of fisherman, divination, mathematics, and knowledge; his pawi is the sea turtle.
FITHOWÉO: patron of Rima; god of war, the hunt, and the forge; his pawi is the wolf.
WHISPERING BREEZES
CHAPTER ONE
TRUANTS
PAN: THE SECOND MONTH IN THE SIXTH YEAR OF THE REIGN OF FOUR PLACID SEAS.
Masters and mistresses, lend me your ears.
Let my words sketch for you scenes of faith and courage.
Dukes, generals, ministers, and maids, everyone parades through this ethereal stage.
What is the love of a princess? What are a king’s fears?
If you loosen my tongue with drink and enliven my heart with coin, all will be revealed in due course of time. . . .
The sky was overcast, and the cold wind whipped a few scattered snowflakes through the air. Carriages and pedestrians in thick coats and fur-lined hats hurried through the wide avenues of Pan, the Harmonious City, seeking the warmth of home.
Or the comfort of a homely pub like the Three-Legged Jug.
“Kira, isn’t it your turn to buy the drinks this time? Everyone knows your husband turns every copper over to you.”
“Look who’s talking. Your husband doesn’t get to sneeze without your permission! But I think today should be Jizan’s turn, sister. I heard a wealthy merchant from Gan tipped her five silver pieces last night!”
“Whatever for?”
“She guided the merchant to his favorite mistress’s house through a maze of back alleys and managed to elude the spies the merchant’s wife sicced on him!”
“Jizan! I had no idea you had such a lucrative skill—”
“Don’t listen to Kir a’s lies! Do I look like I have five silver pieces?”
“You certainly came in here with a wide enough grin. I’d wager you had been handsomely paid for facilitating a one-night marriage—”
“Oh, shush! You make me sound like I’m the greeter at an indigo house—”
“Ha-ha! Why stop at being the greeter? I rather think you have the skills to manage an indigo house, or . . . a scarlet house! I’ve certainly drooled over some of those boys. How about a little help for a sister in need—”
“—or a big help—”
“Can’t the two of you get your minds out of the gutter for a minute? Wait . . . Phiphi, I think I heard the coins jangling in your purse when you came in—did you have good luck at sparrow tiles last night?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Aha, I knew it! Your face gives everything away; it’s a wonder you can bluff anyone at that game. Listen, if you want Jizan and me to keep our mouths shut in front of your foolish husband about your gaming habit—”
“You featherless pheasant! Don’t you dare tell him!”
“It’s hard for us to think about keeping secrets when we’re so thirsty. How about some of that ‘mind-moisturizer,’ as they say in the folk operas?”
“Oh, you rotten . . . Fine, the drinks are on me.”
“That’s a good sister.”
“It’s just a harmless hobby, but I can’t stand the way he mopes around the house and nags when he thinks I’m going to gamble everything away.”
“You do seem to have Lord Tazu’s favor, I’ll grant you that. But good fortune is better when shared!”
“My parents must not have offered enough incense at the Temple of Tututika before I was born for me to end up with you two as my ‘friends.’ . . .”
Here, inside the Three-Legged Jug, tucked in an out-of-the-way corner of the city, warm rice wine, cold beer, and coconut arrack flowed as freely as the conversation. The fire in the wood-burning stove in the corner crackled and danced, keeping the pub toasty and bathing everything in a warm light. Condensation froze against the glass windows in refined, complex patterns that blurred the view of the outside. Guests sat by threes and fours around low tables in géüpa, relaxed and convivial, enjoying small plates of roasted peanuts dipped in taro sauce that sharpened the taste of alcohol.
Ordinarily, an entertainer in this venue could not expect a cessation in the constant murmur of conversation. But gradually, the buzzing of competing voices died out. For now, at least, there was no distinction between merchants’ stable boys from Wolf’s Paw, scholars’ servant girls from Haan, low-level government clerks sneaking away from the office for the afternoon, laborers resting after a morning’s honest work, shopkeepers taking a break while their spouses watched the store, maids and matrons out for errands and meeting friends—all were just members of an audience enthralled by the storyteller standing at the center of the tavern.
He took a sip of foamy beer, put the mug down, slapped his hands a few times against his long, draping sleeves, and continued:
. . . the Hegemon unsheathed Na-aroénna then, and King Mocri stepped back to admire the great sword: the soul-taker, the head-remover, the hope-dasher. Even the moon seemed to lose her luster next to the pure glow of this weapon.
“That is a beautiful blade,” said King Mocri, champion of Gan. “It surpasses other swords as Consort Mira excels all other women.”
The Hegemon looked at Mocri contemptuously, his double-pupils glinting. “Do you praise the weapon because you think I hold an unfair advantage? Come, let us switch swords, and I have no doubt I will still defeat you.”
“Not at all,” said Mocri. “I praise the weapon because I believe you know a warrior by his weapon of choice. What is better in life than to meet an opponent truly worthy of your skill?”
The Hegemon’s face softened. “I wish you had not rebelled, Mocri. . . .”
In a corner barely illuminated by the glow of the stove, two boys and a girl huddled around a table. Dressed in hempen robes and tunics that were plain but well-made, they appeared to be the children of farmers or perhaps the servants of a well-to-do merchant’s family. The older boy was about twelve, fair-skinned and well proportioned. His eyes were gentle and his dark hair, naturally curly, was tied into a single messy bun at the top of his head. Across the table from him was a girl about a year younger, also fair-skinned and curly-haired—though she wore her hair loose and let the strands cascade around her pretty, round face. The corners of her mouth were curled up in a slight smile as she scanned the room with lively eyes shaped like the body of the graceful dyran, taking in everything with avid interest. Next to her was a younger boy about nine, whose complexion was darker and whose hair was straight and black. The older children sat on either side of him, keeping him penned between the table and the wall. The mischievous glint in his roaming eyes and his constant fidgeting offered a hint as to why. The similarity in the shapes of their features suggested they were siblings.
“Isn’t this great?” whispered the younger boy. “I bet Master Ruthi still thinks we’re imprisoned in our rooms, enduring our punishment.”
“Phyro,” said the older boy, a slight frown on his face, “you know this is only a temporary reprieve. Tonight, we each still have to write three essays about how Kon Fiji’s Morality applies to our misbehavior, how youthful energy must be tempered by education, and how—”
“Shhhh—” the girl said. “I’m trying to hear the storyteller! Don’t lecture, Timu. You already agreed that there’s no difference between playing first and then studying, on the one hand, and studying first and then playing, on the other. It’s called ‘time-shifting.’ ”
“I’m beginning to think that this ‘time-shifting’ idea of yours would be better called ‘time-wasting,’ ” said Timu, the older brother. “You and Phyro were wrong to make jokes about Master Kon Fiji—and I should have been more severe with you. You should accept your punishment gracefully.”
“Oh, wait until you find out what Théra and I—mmf—”
The girl had clamped a hand over the younger boy’s mouth. “Let’s not trouble Timu with too much knowledge, right?” Phyro nodded, and Théra let go.
The young boy wiped his mouth. “Your hand is salty! Ptui!” Then he turned back to Timu, his older brother. “Since you’re so eager to write the essays, Toto-tika, I’m happy to yield my share to you so that you can write six instead of three. Your essays are much more to Master Ruthi’s taste anyway.”
“That’s ridiculous! The only reason I agreed to sneak away with you and Théra is because as the eldest, it’s my responsibility to look after you, and you promised you would take your punishment later—”
“Elder Brother, I’m shocked!” Phyro put on a serious mien that looked like an exact copy of their strict tutor’s when he was about to launch into a scolding lecture. “Is it not written in Sage Kon Fiji’s Tales of Filial Devotion that the younger brother should offer the choicest specimens in a basket of plums to the elder brother as a token of his respect? Is it also not written that an elder brother should try to protect the younger brother from difficult tasks beyond his ability, since it is the duty of the stronger to defend the weaker? The essays are uncrackable nuts to me, but juicy plums to you. I am trying to live as a good Moralist with my offer. I thought you’d be pleased.”
“That is—you cannot—” Timu was not as practiced at this particular subspecies of the art of debate as his younger brother. His face grew red, and he glared at Phyro. “If only you would direct your cleverness to actual schoolwork.”
“You should be happy that Hudo-tika has done the assigned reading for once,” said Théra, who had been trying to maintain a straight face as the brothers argued. “Now please be quiet, both of you; I want to hear this.”
. . . slammed Na-aroénna down, and Mocri met it with his ironwood shield, reinforced with cruben scales. It was as if Fithowéo had clashed his spear against Mount Kiji, or if Kana had slammed her fiery fist against the surface of the sea. Better yet, let me chant for you a portrait of that fight:
On this side, the champion of Gan, born and bred on Wolf’s Paw;
On that side, the Hegemon of Dara, last scion of Cocru’s marshals.
One is the pride of an island’s spear-wielding multitudes;
The other is Fithowéo, the God of War, incarnate.
