1st day of the 3rd month 650th year of the 8th era

A young man in a grey slaves’ skirt climbed the marble steps and knocked on the heavy door. The sound of the knock echoed into the room behind, cutting into the quiet of the street. A man with a haughty nose and a straight back, dressed in a black suit, opened the door. He looked down his nose at the young slave on the porch. The slave stretched out a trembling hand that contained a roll of rough cloth with a green wax seal. The man looked at the sheet of cloth as if it had offended him and took it with a finger and thumb, holding it away from him. The messenger turned and ran down the steps, his bare feet slapping against the warm stone. The butler sighed and closed the door. Holding the roll of cloth in one gloved hand, he walked through the entrance room into a south-facing sitting room. The warm sun streamed in through the glazed windows covered with a thin lace drape. Sitting on the sofa, an old lithe woman lounged in a loose-fitting lace shift.

“Who was that, Albert?” the woman asked, smiling up at him.

“Just a messenger, my lady. He delivered this.”

Albert handed out the ragged cloth held by the green wax seal.

She shifted in her seat, sitting up on the lounge.

“It seems to be a roll of cloth, almost as if the sender didn’t have any paper,” Albert said.

“That is a little strange. Let me see the seal.”

Albert passed the message cloth across to her. Her heart pounded as she looked at the seal. The last time she saw messages on cloth was from when she was a girl. Her family had never contacted her in all her years as a slave or after she had been freed by the man who later became her husband. Albert handed the message to her. She took the roll, broke the seal, and unrolled the cloth. She sat up straight as she read the message.

“Fetch my maid and have her prepare my blue dress for me to go out.”

“As you wish, my lady.” Albert strode out of the sitting room.

She continued to read the message. The flowing script was flowery, and ink stains marked the edges of the page.

Dear Aunt, Irrawella,

I hope this reaches you and you are in good health.

I hear that you have married well and live in luxury. I bring you bad tidings. Your father died some years ago and your brother took the mantle of leadership. He recently passed away with no issue, though not from lack of trying. The elders ask that you return and take your rightful place in the clan.

It is hoped that your husband can help us solve the leadership crisis we are facing. The clan is without leadership and the infighting is threatening to tear us apart.

The other clans circle, ready to destroy us. They have already taken away the mantle of king.

Please come or send your son to restore order. Your vote could solve the infighting and bring the clan together. I can’t hold the family together.

Yours,

Nanberry Bengan, (Daughter to your sister Dujah Bengan)

Clan Lawn of the family Bengan.

Albert returned to the room and stood at the door with his hands held behind his back. Irrawella placed the message on the sofa beside her and stood. Albert was at her side at once. She placed her hand on his arm and smiled up at him. He escorted her out of the room and down the corridor and into her personal chambers. Albert pushed open the door and a young woman, her maid, took her hand.

“Kai, did Albert wake you?” Irrawella asked.

“No, mistress.” Kai led Irrawella to a small table and placed her hands on the table.

“You're naked,” Irrawella sighed. “What would Albert think?”

“I prefer it to be mistress. I want Albert,” Kai said, fanning herself with a hand, her face going crimson. As she lifted Irrawella’s shift over her head, Irrawella raised her hands, and the shift slipped off.

“For me to wear something means I don’t trust you, my lady, as I have told you before. You don’t want your maid to be distrusting of you?”

Irrawella sighed and smiled at the young woman. “I need to visit my son and grandson.”

“Very good, mistress.”

Kai walked over to the large wardrobe that dominated the room. Another door on the other side of the room led to the sleeping room. The wallpaper was green and cheery, reflecting the small amount of light streaming in through a window on the far side of the room. Kai started humming to herself as she pulled out the dress and set it out on the bed.

When a light tap sounded on the door, Kai crossed the room and opened it. A large, slender, brown-skinned, busty woman, long brown hair tied up into a neat bun, walked into the room brushing Kai aside.

“Mistress, it’s your daughter, Jeemo,” Kai announced.

Irrawella let go of the table and stood to face her daughter.

Jeemo wore a loose knee-length yellow skirt with a sky-blue half-shirt that was tight across her ample bosom. She looked Irrawella in the eyes; each woman had piercing, deep brown eyes.

Kai returned to Irrawella and lifted the dress above her head, the eye contact broken.

“What can I do for you today?” Irrawella asked, as Kai smoothed the dress down.

“Mother, Albert just told me that there was a message. Was it for me?”

“No, Jeemo. It was for me.”

Irrawella lowered her arms and began to position her herself into the dress for maximum comfort.

Jeemo sighed and flounced down onto the dressing table chair. “Nice choice, Mother. Where are you going? Are you going to meet someone special?” A smirk on her lips.

Kai set a pair of white slip-on shoes at Irrawella’s feet and Irrawella stepped into them.

“I am going to see your brother.”

“I thought you were dressing up for a date.”

Kai pulled out a yellow length of fabric from the dresser, wrapped it around her hips, and fastened it.

“Dear, your father was the love of my life. I won’t be remarrying again.”

“You should. You are young enough to have another family,” Jeemo said.

“My dear, men get married for only two things, money and children. I can’t give a man a child, and I don’t want to take money away from you or your brother.”

“Mulgooma has all the money he could ever want,” Jeemo said.

“Then you will still need to marry, and money will attract a suitable husband.”

“Mother, please.” Jeemo rolled her eyes. “I can become a prostitute and make my own money.”

Irrawella looked at Jeemo. As the moment lengthened, Jeemo shifted in the chair. Irrawella raised an eyebrow. “Very funny, dear. A prostitute in the family would give your brother a heart attack.” Irrawella strode out the door with Kai following behind. The door clicked shut behind her.

Jeemo followed them, swinging the door open so hard that it crashed into the wall before slamming shut. “I could always marry Albert here; he would always let me do my own thing.”

Kai turned to face Jeemo and stood in her way, her eyes narrowing.

“I wouldn’t be a good match, my lady,” Albert said, appearing at Irrawella’s arm.

Kai sighed, a smirk on her face, and let Jeemo pass.

“Fine, not Albert. I don’t know many suitable men.” Jeemo looked at Kai as she stepped past with a raised eyebrow.

“It would help if you allowed a man to court you properly,” Irrawella said.

“What is that meant to mean?” Jeemo asked, her hands on her hips.

“I know about your partners and I do not approve. You have been lucky not to fall pregnant yet.”

Jeemo flashed a quick look at Kai and Albert. Kai sniggered at Jeemo. Albert’s face was blanker than usual. Jeemo wondered who the snitch was. She squinted at Kai whose smirk turned into a large smile. Jeemo narrowed her eyes at Kai. The culprit found.

“If one of them does make you pregnant, I will require you to marry them the next day,” Irrawella said, her voice steely.

“Yes, Mother,” Jeemo sighed, rolling her eyes. As Irrawella caught her gaze, Jeemo’s face drained and she gulped. She had only seen that steely expression on her mother once before and the consequences still haunted her. She shivered at the memory and suppressed it.

“Don’t take that tone with me,” Irrawella snapped. “Albert, arrange dinners with all the eligible bachelors around Jeemo’s age.”

“Mother, I can’t. I have work,” Jeemo protested.

“Very good, mistress,” Albert said his lips twitching before returning to their bland neutral expression.

“You will be here,” Irrawella said, pointing to Jeemo, “even if you have to close up shop early. Once you have met them all I will expect you to select five to ten for follow up dinners.”

“I don’t want to get married,” Jeemo protested, folding her arms across her chest.

“I am not concerned about what you want at this stage. I also didn’t say anything about marriage,” Irrawella said, “but now that you mention it … your brother is married and has an adult son already.”

Albert walked past her and opened the front door.

“Kai, get the message cloth in the sitting room,” Irrawella said.

Kai bowed and dashed off.

“You will select five to ten to consider. One of them will then be selected for you to court with the intention of marriage.”

“I thought you said you weren’t talking about marriage,” Jeemo moaned, eyes widening.

“You mentioned marriage. I thought it was a good idea,” Irrawella stated, her voice steely. “If you have a favourite that you want to be added to the list, inform Albert and he will arrange a dinner with us.”

“You will be at these dinners?” Jeemo asked.

Kai returned with the scroll and stood beside Irrawella. Albert opened the door.

“If I am not there, then how will I decide on your future husband?” Irrawella said, her voice going sweet.

“I don’t get a say in this?”

“Not about my presence in the dinners, but you can cull the list down to five or ten.”

“There is no way I can stop this from happening?”

“You could, by informing me or Albert by tomorrow before dinner that you are engaged. If not, that night you will meet the first of the eligible men. I love you, Jeemo. I am getting old and I want you to have someone to love. You are lucky that we don’t need any political connections, or you would have been married off well before now.” Irrawella smiled a tight thin smile at Jeemo. She descended the three marble steps, walked the short path to the street and turned onto the quiet street. Kai followed quickly. Birds chirped in the trees as they strode down the street. Irrawella and Kai walked past several small manors and then turned into front yard of a stately manor with a red brick facade set off by neat manicured lawns. They walked up the path and ascended the stairs. As they reached the top, the door opened and a gnome in a black suit hovered at head height and waved them in. The walls inside were made of clear crystal that changed colour throughout the spectrum as they walked past.

A gnome flew into the entrance room on filigree wings. She was wearing a shimmering silver dress that reflected the light of the changing colours in the walls. She was followed by a half-sized man of about the same age dressed in blue tunic and black slacks.

A third followed, a tall man with young features who wore a white, loose-fitting tunic with tight black slacks. They had the same jet-black hair and a sharp nose. The only real difference was that the younger man was thin and lithe like a spear.

“Irrawella, it is good to see you,” the flying gnome greeted, her voice the sound of a gentle waterfall.

“Lady Clovea,” Irrawella said. She and Kai bowed.

“Mother,” said the half-man.

“Mulgooma.” Irrawella squatted and hugged her son, before standing and hugging her grandson. “Araki.”

“To what do we owe this pleasure?” Lady Clovea asked, ushering them into the sitting room. The sitting room was filled with three double-seated sofas and a small table in the middle. Large windows were covered in a light blue lace drapes letting the warm sun stream in through the windows. The room felt warm and stuffy, so Kai reached through the heavy drapes and opened the window. A cool breeze wafted in across their skins.

“I bring some bad news and wish to ask for a favour.” Irrawella raised her hand to Kai who placed the scroll into Irrawella’s hand. “I received a message from my family in Ashford. It seems that my brother has died, leaving no heir.”

“I am so sorry to hear that,” Lady Clovea sympathised, placing a hand to her chest. Her dress flickered and changed colour to a dull blue, the sequins gone.

“What is the favour you ask, Mother?” Mulgooma asked.

“My brother was the king of the people of Ashford, and the fact that he had no male heir caused the other tribes to remove kingship from the family. My niece wants me to send my son to Ashford to stop the infighting amongst the clan.”

“I couldn’t be parted with my darling Moogy,” Clovea said her voice rising in pitch. She reached out and placed a hand on her husband’s leg.

“I know,” Irrawella said, her hand patting Lady Clovea on the leg. “I was hoping to send Araki.”

“My son, my miracle,” wailed Lady Clovea.

“I would have gone, but with my husband gone, I can’t leave my daughter to her own devices.”

“Yes, Jeemo would ruin the family name in a day without supervision.” Mulgooma placed a hand over his wife’s hand.

“She is very close to doing so right now,” Irrawella muttered.

Araki spoke up, “I would like to go.”

“What if something happened to my son?” Lady Clovea complained. “I have no other children.”

“I understand that,” Irrawella soothed. “He would be in no danger at all. My husband has a half-sister that runs a clipper ship that could take him to Ishtaree. From there he could hire a barge to sail upriver to Ashford. My niece in Ashford could meet him and protect him in Ashford.”

“In Ashford at least he would be of some use,” Mulgooma said. “You are the youngest child in a large family, he would never gain the title, and there he could make a name for himself.”

“What would I need to do?” Araki asked.

“My niece didn’t offer much of an explanation on what happened. It seems you would need to cast a vote for the family in the clan elections to decide the new chief.”

“Who would I vote for?” Araki asked.

“I don’t know the contenders for clan leader. I would assume that you would make that choice yourself or follow the advice of my niece,” Irrawella said.

Araki nodded and turned to his mother. “Mother I would like to go; it seems to be a simple diplomatic mission. Go in, cast a vote, and then return.”

“Very well,” Lady Clovea sighed. “I have known for some time that you need to strike out on your own. If you can do that better elsewhere, so be it.”

“I will go and pack.” Araki stood and walked out of the room.

“Kai, tell Araki that I want to see him when he is finished packing.”

Kai nodded and ran out of the room after Araki.

“He seems very eager to go,” Lady Clovea moaned.

“He still loves you, Clovea,” Mulgooma soothed.

Kai returned and nodded to Irrawella.

“I had better go and make arrangements,” Irrawella said, standing. The door was opened for her and Kai as they strode out of the room.

Araki came down the stairs into the entranceway, carrying a small knapsack over his shoulder.

“Grandmother, I am ready.”

“Follow me,” she said descending the stairs.

Kai and Araki followed behind her. They walked down the path which was lined with tall stately trees that covered the road providing shade for the walkers. On their left was the cobblestone road and to their right the property boundaries changed with each manor they walked past. Sometimes imposing brick walls, other times thick neatly cut hedges, and a few times metal bars that teased those outside with views of manicured lawns and water features. They turned left at the street and walked past several manors before returning to Irrawella’s house.

Albert opened the door as they climbed the outside stairs.

“Jeemo left moments after you departed,” Albert said.

“Thank you, Albert. Fetch my husband’s sword and belt.”

Albert bowed and shut the door after they all had entered then walked down the corridor and disappeared.

“I can’t take grandfather’s sword,” Araki protested.

“Don’t be silly, you are the rightful heir to the sword.”

Albert returned with a large wooden box. He set it on the floor and opened it. Inside was a long sword in a deep-red leather scabbard; it was attached by a golden ring to a red leather belt. The handle of the sword was elegantly carved in gold filigree. Albert reached into the box, withdrew the sword and belt, and presented them to Irrawella. A piece of parchment fell from the sword and landed on the floor.

Irrawella furrowed her brow and bent down to retrieve the piece of parchment. She unfurled it, feeling its roughness under her soft fingers. The note contained seventeen lines of poetry arranged into groups of four the middle line was on its own.

“A man’s heart is fickle,

true must a man’s heart be

to wield the spirit.

Honour and glory,

reveal the soul.

Remain true to your word

and see glory.

A king stays with a lie.

Lies destroy the heart and mind,

Truth frees the soul,

Honesty shall humble you.

Gains shall follow.

Return to truth,

Separate truth from lie.

The sword divides,

Truth sets the captives free.”

“What is this, Albert?” Irrawella demanded after reading the lines.

“I am not certain, My Lady.”

“What’s the matter, Grandmother?” Araki asked.

“Your father and I met when he was looking for this belt.” She pointed at the sword and belt in Albert’s hands. “The clues to finding the sword began with the last three verses.” She handed the parchment over to Araki.

Araki read the missive.

“I only saw your husband put the sword into the box before he died, and I haven’t touched it since.” Albert gave the sword to Araki.

“It’s a beautiful sword,” Araki whistled. “I can’t take it with me. I don’t know how to use it.”

“You can learn. I can arrange for you to have some instruction on the way to Ishtaree,” insisted Irrawella. “It is meant to be yours.”

Araki sighed, wrapped the belt around his waist, and fastened it.

“Kai, send a boy to the docks and check to see if the Fleur de Lis is in port.”

Kai smiled, bobbed her head, and ducked down the hallway.

Albert bent down, closed the box, and strode out of the room.

“I must warn you that the sword is special. It will guide you,” Irrawella informed Araki in a low voice. “Your father made a deal with the sword—you may have to deal with the consequences of that deal. Pay close attention to what shows you. It has its own agenda.”

“What is it?”

“Your grandfather couldn’t work it out. He theorised there are other special items around the world, and they all want to be united together.”

Araki smiled at his grandmother.

“It will take some time for the boy to get back. Will you join me for lunch?”

Araki nodded and followed Irrawella through the door to the sitting room. “You will have to tell me how Grandfather got this mystery.”

Irrawella smiled at Araki and nodded. “It is quite a good story, and we have time.”