Chapter 39
Emperor Vishou of Nakuchi paced angrily before his ornate throne in the large throne room. He was growing impatient waiting for his advisors. Surely five in the morning was not too early an hour to please the Emperor’s wishes! Apparently his advisors didn’t care, for they took their time in rising.
At last, the men came shuffling in, rubbing sleep from their eyes and looking just as annoyed as the Emperor. “What have you summoned us here for?” asked Egamer, the first advisor.
“I hope it’s important,” grumbled Palesh, the second advisor.
“Likely it’s about a new wardrobe for His Majesty,” muttered Atran, the third advisor under his breath.
“Read this!” Vishou shoved a crumpled letter into Atran’s face.
“Fa-Ying, advisor to his Majesty Vua Sheiji-Yueng, king of Imatsuro, etc. etc. Respectfully to his Majesty Emperor Vishou Loromi—,” Atran began aloud.
“No, no,” Vishou said irritably, tearing the letter away from Atran and scanning through it to the part he wanted. “You may rejoice that your daughter Sahima Loromi, heiress of Nakuchi, is alive and well under our care…We shall begin planning for the wedding of Sahima and Vua Sheiji-Yueng as soon as possible…”
Atran’s face paled.
“Tell me how this happened, Atran,” Vishou said in a dangerously low voice.
“I…I…don’t know, Your Majesty,” Atran stuttered.
“Tell me!” Vishou roared.
“I couldn’t kill her. I couldn’t kill a helpless baby. She looked so innocent. I couldn’t kill her, not when I had a daughter just her age. I took her far away! I took her to Imatsuro and left her in a dark alley. I thought she would die there,” Atran wept in fear of his life.
“You will pay for this,” Vishou said. “Guards, take this man and kill him and his family. Burn his house and all his belongings.” Vishou proceeded to give detailed directions as to the gruesome death he wanted Atran to face. Then Vishou turned to his other advisors, “Sahima must not live. Aruj must become emperor.”
“Fa-Ying!” Sheiji exclaimed. “Fa-Ying, are you all right?” Fa-Ying had slid off his chair and now lay limply on the floor with his eyes closed. “Fa-Ying,” Sheiji said again. He turned to Jihaad, “Go get the doctor for…for your father. Hurry!”
Jihaad sprinted from the room after a quick but respectful bow to Sheiji who paid no attention. He knelt before Fa-Ying and felt for a pulse. Ammar also knelt beside the old advisor.
“It was too much of a shock for him and he’s fainted,” Ammar explained. “But I suspect he’ll wake up and be all right in a short while.”
As Ammar had said, Fa-Ying woke before the doctor arrived, but he did not look well. His face was ashen and his eyes wandered aimlessly around the room.
“Just lie here and rest until the doctor comes, Fa-Ying,” Sheiji told him. Fa-Ying gratefully lay back on a pillow Sheiji brought from his bed.
The doctor arrived presently and proceeded to look over Fa-Ying. After a thorough examination, the doctor ordered Fa-Ying to bed and had several servants deliver him there, despite the weak protests that Fa-Ying made. When Fa-Ying was gone, Sheiji asked worriedly, “He will be all right, won’t he?”
After a long pause, the doctor replied solemnly, “In time. If he rests as I have prescribed. He must stay in bed and not exert himself for a week at the least.”
“But I’m being crowned king in five days,” Sheiji protested. “We have much to do.”
“It is vital to his recovery that he doesn’t get out of bed for at least a week,” the doctor replied. “The coronation will have to go on without him. As for the preparation, you’ll have to find someone else. Fa-Ying is not to be worried with anything, good or bad. I suspect that the stress has been building on him all this time. Protecting a king and stopping a usurper is a difficult task. The weeks in that horrid prison didn’t do much for his frail health either. The news that he had a son, the soldier told me all about it, just sent him over the edge.”
Sheiji hung his head. If it hadn’t been for him, Fa-Ying would be fine. Sheiji caused him all this stress and he hadn’t made it any easier by disobeying Fa-Ying. He said so to Ammar.
“No, Sheiji. I have talked much with your Fa-Ying these past days and with Inon who knows him well,” Ammar replied. “Fa-Ying would be glad to give his life for you. If it wasn’t for you, Inon says, he’d be dead by now. He lives by sheer will, knowing he still has much to do.”
“Where is Jihaad?” Sheiji asked. “I must speak with him.”
“Don’t condemn him, Sheiji, it’s not his fault,” Ammar said.
“Condemn him? I’m not going to condemn him,” Sheiji assured the general. “But I must talk to him about a certain matter of importance. As soon as Inon returns from searching for the man that provided Sui-Tsai with a sword, I would like you to begin organizing my army and teaching him how control the men. Would you do that, General?”
“Of course, my lord. That is the reason I stayed here,” Ammar answered. “I will leave you now, if you like.”
“Thank you,” Sheiji sighed. He turned to the doctor, “Where did Jihaad go after he talked to you?”
“He said he had something to do at home and took off,” the doctor replied.
Sheiji frowned. “General, see if you can find out where he lives. Then send a messenger to tell him to come here as soon as possible.” Ammar bowed and left the room. The doctor reminded Sheiji not to bother Fa-Ying with any worries and followed General Ammar out of the room.
At last, Sheiji was alone. Well, not completely. Servants stood outside his door waiting for his command, but his room was empty. He sank down on his bed and cupped his head in his hands. Everything was going wrong. Sahima had left him, Sui-Tsai had taken his own life, and now Fa-Ying lay ill. His head ached from thinking about Sui-Tsai, worrying about Sahima and about her father, and from trying to get his kingdom back in order.
In a sudden burst of anger, he wondered why he had to be king. He longed for the carefree days of his street life where his only worry was how to get food in his stomach and where to sleep at night. Maybe he could sneak away, just for a short while. He could go find Sahima and apologize to her. He could be free one last time before being tied down with ruling the Kingdom of Imatsuro.
Sheiji shook his head. He couldn’t do that. Not anymore. He had responsibilities. There were people counting on him and looking up to him. He had to stay here, no matter how tortuous it was. If Sahima didn’t return on her own, he would have to live without her. He couldn’t go look for her now. That thought was like a knife cutting into his heart. But perhaps it was really best that she was gone. It was safest, anyway, if his speculations about Emperor Vishou turned out to be true. With that last thought giving him slight peace of mind, Sheiji fell into an exhausted sleep.