Chapter 33. Imperial Guild Census

aineng Center was thick with banners and guild members as they all filed toward Raisu Pavilion and waited their turn to enter the Imperial compound.  Eventually, Crystal Palm drew toward the first of many gates and Pendaran sat exhausted in their midst, his head pounding to match the throbbing ache of his injuries.  A feverish sweat lay over his flesh and he struggled to regain focus and control over his pain.  He longed for the oblivion of the mandrake syrup that he took before going to bed at night.  He wanted his soft feather bed and Teleri at his side and the safety of the compound.

Lemony came to his side and prayed over him gently, easing some of his suffering but she conceded he needed a quiet place to rest.  To his chagrin, he was also aware of the many stares he was receiving from rival guild members and he sensed by the scowls of his compatriots that there were some unattractive things being said about him and the Order of the Crystal Palm.  Even Zhou looked annoyed as he went through the grueling process of accounting for everyone listed on the guild roster with the Emperor’s Hand.

Thankfully, Brigit was drawing the majority of the sneers and taunts in her outrageous armor of fur, leathers, and strategically placed pieces of dented metal.  The warriors holding Pendaran were blushing on her behalf as she took matters into her own hands and started taunting them back with a series of flexes and rude gestures.  Scandalized chatter buzzed like a hive of angry bees.  Even the Emperor’s Hand raised his dour head from the long scroll of the guild roster and glared at the warrioress.  Zhou looked livid as she turned to wiggle her rump at a half dozen assassins belonging to a guild with a fiery mountain on its black banner.

“Brigit, please stop,” Pendaran said, for she stubbornly remained beside him as she performed her antics.  She gazed down at him past the jaws of her monstrous helm, her freckled visage crimson with anger only to be brought up short by the horror in Pendaran’s face.  He glanced sidelong at Zhou standing some paces away and she followed his gaze and blanched.

“We’ve been standing here for an hour,” Brigit complained under her breath, “What does he expect?”

“It’s his first time doing this as a guild leader,” Lemony said, “and his authority is being questioned.  Apparently Dojin did not name him as a successor because he was not counting on two of his officers dying with him.”

The Emperor’s Hand rolled up the scroll of names and gave it back to Zhou.  Then, exchanging bows, the man stepped aside at last to allow them to proceed past the plaza of flowing water and carp through the first of many gates into the palace grounds.  The imposing walls gleamed under rich red tiles and thick square pillars adorned with gold.  Serpentine dragon images glinted in the late morning sunshine.  There were intricate screens and sprays of wisteria cascading over the walls, turning golden now that autumn was well under way.  They traveled over the hump of an ornate bridge and filed into a wide yard paved with an intricate pattern in red sandstone and blue river stone.  Other guilds had arrived before them and there were pavilions blossoming around the edges of the yard in the shadow of the high walls.  Zhou led them quickly toward a blue and red one that was not being shared with another guild.  There were mats stacked up near the empty pavilion which the guild members soon scattered on the hard paving stones to cushion them while sitting.

“Bring Pendaran in here,” Zhou said after investigating the fluttering tent.  Within there were three low pallets and a pile of blankets.  As promised, the imperial quartermasters had ensured that visiting guilds would have a sheltered place for their sick or infirm members to rest between ceremonies.  Pendaran wobbled tiredly as he was propped up on his feet while Lemony removed his fine silks and robes to investigate his wounds.

“How long have we got?” she asked.

“He can sleep for three or four hours while we’re away at the opening ceremony.  However, we need him on his feet for the blessing and show of allegiance.  Brigit can keep watch over him,” Zhou said.

Pendaran sighed with relief in his breeches and blouse drooping with weariness and pain.  Lemony smiled up at him before going to a large barrel containing water and dipping a nearby bowl into it.  He watched her drizzle the sticky green mandrake syrup into it and thanked her as he received the offering and downed it in a few swallows.  She refilled the bowl twice more, forcing him to drink all of it before asking Brigit to come help him lie down near the ground, a position that was particularly hard on his dead leg and scarred belly.

“I’ll stay with him,” Lemony said as she knelt beside the bed and drew blankets over Pendaran.

“Very well.”

Zhou nodded curtly at Pendaran before departing. Lemony fidgeted with the hem of her sky blue outfit as Pendaran grew numb and drowsy.  He closed his eyes, comforted by the low murmur of the two women conversing quietly beside him.  Reality melded with dream for the mandrake often gave him strange visions when he slept. 

He awakened shivering and sweating upon the hard cushion.  Sunlight poured through the fabric of the pavilion stained red and blue as it filtered down to him.  Lemony was dabbing his brow with a dampened cloth, her round face tense with alarm.

“You need to be home and in bed for a few days,” she said softly, “This is ridiculous, you’re still very weak.”

“Don’t say my name,” he pleaded.

“I won’t, darling,” she murmured, indulging his fevered mumblings.

Zhou entered the tent and stood over them, his face grim as he met Pendaran’s gaze.

“I am sorry to put you through this, my friend.”

Zhou’s eyebrows rose when Pendaran focused his will against him and prevented him from speaking within his mind.  He was afraid that Ashekoroth was still with him, watching and listening, and he could ill afford to expose either of them to the danger.  Zhou was freer with his speech when he could not be overheard, a liability Pendaran would not risk while they were outside the safety of the Crystal Palm compound.

“I’ll be fine,” Pendaran murmured, “Did you choose a Canthan name for me?”

“Yes, I had to.  The roster required it.”

“I wish only to be called by that name now.”

Pendaran grinned to himself.  Now if he could just convince his friends to play along he might be able to hold the vile creature off long enough to return to the safety of the compound and appeal to Zhou for help.  There was little they could do now and he saw no need to worry his master about it at that moment.  He sensed Ashekoroth could not make a move while they dwelt within the high walls of the palace.

“Kai Peng Ren.  It contains elements of your Tyrian name,” Zhou explained, “It means you are a person who is a kind or joyous friend.”

“Oh,” said Lemony, blushing, “I thought you named him ‘cut open friend person’ because of his injuries.”

Zhou grinned and chuckled.

“That could be one translation, Lemony; however, I would not mock my Adept with such a cruel reference to his wounds.”

She blushed and looked at the ground.

“When we are done here, I will find a tutor for the two of you to begin learning Canthan.”

“Thank you, Master. I would like to go by my Canthan name now, please.”

Zhou smiled at him, clearly flattered and unaware of Pendaran’s true motivation.

“We are being summoned to a private audience for the statement of vows and ceremony of allegiance.  I am afraid you must be present for both, Peng Ren.”

He nodded and strained to sit up, his guts a welter of pain as the mandrake wore off.  Lemony rushed to enchant him, praying softly and laying her hands upon his shoulders as the sweet pale light of Dwayna suffused his aching body.  The rest had helped a little, although it might have proved more healing had he not been engaged in a battle of wills with Ashekoroth.  Brigit lifted him to his feet, amused by his new name as she repeated it a few times.

He wobbled slightly as Lemony helped him dress once more in the elaborate robes. As she loosely bound the sash around his waist, Zhou intervened and drew a palm-sized piece of jade from his own sash and slid it against the wound on Pendaran’s belly.  He did not have much chance to see its elaborate design but it had a serpentine shape.

“It is a charm my mother gave me long ago,” Zhou said quietly, “You wear it for a while.  Perhaps it will protect you from what troubles you now.”

Pendaran was moved by the gesture, knowing Zhou referred to the wall of resistance he maintained to prevent their silent conversation.

“Thank you.”

Lemony resumed her work, helping him negotiate the long row of buttons of the outer robe.  He donned the ridiculous hat once more without complaint and followed his master back out into the yard where the rest of the guild stood in formation awaiting their arrival.  Pendaran was relieved to have his vitality significantly restored so that he could walk this time and reclaim a little dignity after the morning’s events.

Once Zhou was back at the head of his assembled guild, he clacked his black staff loudly upon the stones and nodded to the leader of the imperial guards.  Four score guards now fell into place around them, spaced out to flank their column and take up the lead with the scarlet imperial standard held out before them.  Their bronze armor had a reddish sheen to match their silken cloaks.  They bore long elaborate halberds surmounted with golden tassels and etched with dragons.  Beauty and power bound the gathering, drawing them deeper into Raisu Palace.  They passed through a series of towering gates, each roaring closed behind them with verdigris stained portcullis barring the way.  More guards fell into file around them.  Pendaran knew that the locked gates and entourage were meant to impress upon them how mighty the Emperor was and how futile and life limiting any attempt to resist him would prove.

At last they filed into a wide hall, an inner plaza paved with gleaming tiles depicting interlocking dragons.  More square red columns bore aloft the high pavilions draped with iridescent banners.  Ahead of them a mighty image of an ancient emperor was emblazoned upon the wall above the imperial throne.  Towering over them upon a raised dais sat Emperor Kisu in blue and purple robes and a hat that Pendaran decided as far more humiliating than his own.  Guards were interspersed upon the long rows of steps leading up to the imperial throne and an entourage of personal body guards and silk clad officials surrounded the dragon throne.

It was a sight designed to impress and it succeeded.  The wealth and might of the Canthan empire was focused on that singular shining place.  As one, the guild members lowered to the ground, even Brigit, as if all were overwhelmed by the great emperor.  Pendaran remembered his own instructions and lowered his face, realizing that for a few brief moments he had been openly staring.

The sight of a foreigner standing disrespectfully in honorary Canthan attire naturally caused a stir but Zhou responded to the angry demands of the Emperor’s Hand, his musical Canthan speech no doubt explaining the situation even as he himself was bent to the ground in supplication.  Tensions softened and the Emperor’s Hand withdrew to stand at the foot of the dais.  Soon a line of priests arrived and a blessing of some kind was pronounced upon their kneeling gathering.  The eldest of the priests then unrolled a long scroll and began a recitation from it.  Occasionally he stopped and Zhou responded with words that Pendaran did not understand.  Much of what was happening was a complete mystery to him, and yet it was intriguing as well.  None of his experiences in the royal court of Ascalon had prepared him for such a high degree of pageantry and ritualized exchange.

Incense burned to chase away evil spirits and the long ceremony ended with everyone rising and then lowering themselves to the ground once more in a respectful bow.  A man in shimmering golden silks moved from the Emperor’s side with a thin black lacquered box clutched in his hands and stopped before Zhou.  He was followed by a second figure who held a cord of golden silk with an elaborate knot and a shimmering jewel at its center.  Zhou rose slowly and lowered his head as the cord was looped over his neck and the knotted emblem dropped softly against his breast.  He then received the box and bowed, lowering himself to the ground and setting it aside to touch his forehead to the stones in gratitude.

And then it was over.  The Emperor’s Hand shouted an order, Zhou rose with the flat lacquered box in his arms, and they were escorted into the court beyond the high throne where the toothsome odor of roasting food greeted them.  More pavilions and columns and festival lanterns greeted their eyes, a panoply of glorious color.  Music lilted upon the air and Pendaran sensed joy and relief now that the greatest of the ordeals was behind them.

They were guided to a red and gold tent beside a shimmering pool of carp in their own corner of the great yard. A low table arrayed with a feast was spread out before it and the ground was already heaped with cushions and silk for their comfort.  Zhou was smiling as the escort departed, leaving them to enjoy the bounty and gifts of the emperor.  Lemony and Brigit came to Pendaran’s side and guided him toward the pavilion where another pile of bedding awaited him.  He set aside the silly hat and allowed Lemony to help him remove the excessively buttoned outer robe, but he would not let her remove the sash and touched the jade pendant beneath the cloth, feeling comforted by it.

As Brigit helped him to lie down, Zhou entered and set the gleaming black box down near the foot of the bed.  Its upper surface was decorated with inlaid mother of pearl and gold depicting chrysanthemums and peonies.

“Ooo, what is it, Zhou?” Lemony cooed, shuffling toward him on her knees.

“A gift,” he said quietly, “He said it was to further my good works.”

“Open it!” she cried, but Zhou only smiled and ran a hand over the elaborate artwork on the lid.  At last Shikai arrived with a rustle of jade beads and silver medallions, a broad smile upon her lips as she looked upon her husband.  With infinite care, Zhou released the catches and drew open the box, stunned by the platinum bars he found neatly arrayed within.  A sealed letter lay atop it and Zhou’s hand trembled as he reached for it.  He broke the elaborate seal and scanned its contents, a broad smile rising to his lips.

“Land has been granted for a new academy.  Now my orphans will have a place to study,” he announced and his voice was almost childlike in his exuberance.

“Congratulations,” Pendaran said, delighted for his master.  Shikai embraced her husband and kissed him lightly upon the cheek.

“Well done, my love,” she murmured, “Your work has drawn the eye of Kisu.”

“Then we must celebrate,” Zhou said, “Come, let us dine and dance until the day is at an end.”

“If you don’t mind, I think I will sleep,” Pendaran said.

Zhou smiled sadly at him and nodded.

“I hope to see you recovered soon, Kai Peng Ren.  Rest well.  I will dance for both of us.”