The Ever Lord: Jhod and Karn Li-Schan

The Eve’nbell rang out over the Ever Palace. All returned to their homes, save the Doorsmin, their eyes scanning every shadow, seeking out every corner, attentive in their holy duty to ensure that after Eve’nbell had rung, there was no one whose feet walked the pavement.

Tonight, his Indomitable Grace, Grand Duchen Karn Li-Schan, Warlord of House Li-Schan and Knight Commander of the Order of the Flank, would slip past them all.

Not because of any desire to flout the Eve’nbell’s curfew, goodness no. It had been a good many decades since youthful vigor and a prideful spirit had pushed Li-Schan out of doors during the night. No, now a veteran of over fifteen military campaigns, Li-Schan knew the importance of following orders, and of giving them as well. He knew that no matter how odd or inconsequential the curfew might be, there was cause, and it was his duty to follow. Even as a Grand Duchen and Warlord, he had to follow orders.

In fact, that was exactly why he would defy the curfew this night. He had been commanded, and he would not shirk his duty.

Duchen Li-Schan was no stranger to the night. The Curfew of the Empire did not extend to the battlefield, and both as Warlord and soldier he had spent many hours out after the light of day had faded. Besides, he didn’t need as much sleep as others seemed to, and if he nodded off while reading morning reports from House Li-Schan’s Knight Commmanders, well, it rarely mattered.

But he had been summoned. From across the Ever Empire, a letter had appeared at his study door, held by a nervous-looking servant. It had been sent direct from the Ever Palace and bore the seal of the first of the Ever Lord’s Trusted, the servants who were given access to His most illustrious and blessed personage. It was as good as recieving a letter written by the Ever Lord Himself.

Karn had boarded a ship and traveled to the Ever Palace that very day. Now, not two weeks later, at the hour appointed in the letter, he found himself sneaking through shadows and alleyways towards the Immaculate Hall of the Ever Palace.

His heart beat fast as his large bulk slipped between the shadows. Not with the thrill of avoiding the Doorsmin — Ha! Were the Doorsmin feared? Their eyesight was deadened and senses dulled by hours of stillness and silence in the dark. Let them hunt for enemy soldiers through the jungles of Bi-Khan province, or listen for rebels during a sandstorm across the Eastern Dunes. Then let their legendary skills be whispered about. Li-Schan had to bite his tongue to keep from scoffing; they wouldn’t last seven minutes in a real war.

No, Karn was excited because he was taking action for the first time in many years. It had been too long since his boots had felt the mud under their soles, to coin a phrase; his duties as Grand Duchen and Warlord were so often little more than writing letters and sending delegations. He performed ceremonies, gave speeches, and did all the perfunctory necessities of keeping House Li-Schan safe, honored, and functional.

Of course, moving from his resident chambers to the Immaculate Hall was nothing like enemy territory, but it was something, nonetheless. A welcome pittance to an old starving warhorse.

And far more fitting to his personage than whatever would happen once he was behind the great wooden doors. In spite of his age and experience, he still did not understand the need for another room which appeared to have no purpose that the Throne Room did not also serve. This was a comfort of sorts; Karn was no monarch, and certainly nothing like his Ever Lord. If His divine self saw purpose in it, then Karn would not disagree; what right had he to do so?

Karn’s scorn towards the Doorsmin faded quickly; his eyes and ears were no less subdued than theirs, stained by hours of candlelight and staring at paper and tapestries instead of enemy battlelines. He had become too comfortable as of late, too soft. His air was warmed by fireplaces and gentle music, his tongue caressed with sweet wines and rich food. His backside was more familiar with hard cushions than soft mud, and he was met more often with smiles than arrows or bullets. It had been years since he had slept under the sky on campaign or felt the thrill of blessed light cutting through his foes as their bullets chipped his armor. His duties were all important, naturally; not one of the Great Twenty Houses could function without the efforts of their Dukes, Marqs, and Counts; much less those of a Grand Duke who commanded a whole Legion of the Imperial Honor. And yet…

It was a blasphemous thought, but Karn couldn’t shake the idea that without him, without any Grand Duke, in fact, House Li-Schan would carry on more or less unchanged.

Luckily, the thought had no sooner returned to his mind than it fled again, pushed out by Karn’s arrival at the doors to the Immaculate Hall. There were no Doorsmin about, and the doors were sealed tight. Nearby, a thin pole was topped with the sigil of the Ever Lord; five twisting and entwined lines that marked the doors as sacred.

Karn paused. Ordinarily, the pole would be used by the Doorsmin to signal a citizen desiring entry and request the doors open. They did this by driving the end of the pole into a shallow brass divot set into the floor nearby. As it was, if he signaled the doors to open, the sound would surely be heard. Instead, he reached out, gripped the handle of the great door, and heaved as hard as he could. The door was well balanced and opened smoothly, with only the faintest creaking sound from the ancient hinges.

Karn had been in the Immaculate Hall but once in his life, when he and five others sought leave from the Ever Lord to grant dispensation to their Houses after a battle along their borders. The Ever Lord had sent his most Trusted to preside over their petition, and granted it with some provision.

The room looked much the same. The great stone table as long as ten men laid end to end, the chairs sitting silently, and the giant fireplaces adorned with finely carved stonework. Even Jhod was sitting in the same chair. He had lit the nearby fire, and the flickering flames gave the room a flickering air, an inconstant contrast to the eternal and immovable shapes of the furniture.

Karn couldn’t help but smile as he saw another mark of the eternal. “Jhod, First Among Trusted,” he stepped forward. “It has been a long time indeed.”

“Too long,” Jhod answered his smile with one of his own. The two men clasped arms, each gripping each other’s elbows. “Forgive my prying, I saw you landed two days ago. I hope your trip was well made?”

“Passing well,” Karn shrugged. “The Step of God twists my stomach along with the Velvet.”

Jhod nodded at the reference to the Ever Lord’s great magic that allowed his vessels to travel the Velvet in seconds rather than years. “I too never liked the journey. I am told it is a common malady. I hope it passes swiftly?”

“Within half an hour,” Karn waved a dismissive hand. “Constant as the tides. But enough of my infirmities,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a well-folded letter. “I am summoned in our Ever Lord’s name, and I am come.” In spite of himself, he could not help but speak with a note of anticipation; “is he to meet with us?”

Jhod’s face fell. “The Ever Lord will not be here this evening.”

Karn gave a slow nod. Turning from his friend, he selected a nearby chair and sat down, resting his elbow on the black stone. “If I may speak freely, I cannot remember a time I have been called to the Ever Palace — or called someone myself — and met in a room without Doorsmin at the threshold.”

“It is best our meeting go un-noted.”

Karn blinked. “Were you anyone else, I would think you needed reminding of the Doorsmin’s vows and oaths such that to even question their loyalty is a sin. What…what could possibly be so secret as to fear their noting?”

“Will you take some Sweetdust, old friend?”

Karn watched as Jhod walked to the lit fireplace and pulled a small censer from its mantel. Taking a long lighting-stick from an ornate box, he placed the thin tip in the fire for a moment, catching a flame on the end. Setting the censer on the table, he opened the lid and placed the flame in the small pile of wood shavings inside. He blew out the lighting-stick and pulled a shiny silver box from his robe. He pulled a tightly wound twist of dried grass from inside, snapped it in two, and tossed one half on the tiny fire in the censer before closing the lid once more. In seconds, faint wisps of silver smoke began to leak from the censer’s openwork.

Karn inhaled, letting the thick and spicy perfume cleanse the uncertainty from his mind. He could feel the tickling fumes begin to wipe at the darkened recesses of his mind, clearing out the crusting concerns and rusted worries that he hadn’t even realized he was carrying with him. Jhod breathed deeply as well, though the furrowed brow and worried lines did not fade from his face.

After a moment, when the new lightness of his head had settled somewhat, Karn leaned closer to his old friend. “While it has been too long since we enjoyed each other’s company, I know the Ever Lord did not summon me here to enjoy a moment with an old friend. Pray tell, what duty does he will me perform? I will do so gladly, if I but know it.”

Jhod took a deep shuddering breath. “I would tell you if I could, but my dear friend, I do not know either.”

Karn opened his mouth, and then closed it again. After a moment he found his tongue. “Jhod, I am but a simple man. Wisdom was never my virtue and I am confused by your words.”

“Ha,” Jhod snorted as he stood once more from his chair. “Far from simple. Grand Duchen Warlord of House Li-Schan is no small role.”

“Perhaps not,” Karn said, “but I doubt the wisest sage could tease out some meaning of this meeting. I come at the command of a letter signed in the Ever Lord’s name, though you tell me he will not bless us with his presence, yet his purpose is so secret that the Doorsmin are sent away and even you know not what it is. Jhod, why am I here?”

The man did not answer but instead turned to a small letter-box that sat next to him on the table. He produced a letter and held out like a holy symbol, a blessed warding. “Do you recognize this seal?”

Karn nodded. “The selfsame seal that graces my letter of summons. It is the personal seal of the Ever Lord, held by his own hand.”

“Will you accept the Anointed Oath and become an extension of the Ever Lord’s will and purpose to undertake whatever duty he places upon you?”

Karn straightened. “I will.”

Jhod placed the letter on the table and produced a small candle and seal. He stood, holding the candle in his right hand and the seal in his left. “Kneel.”

Karn stood from his chair to kneel in front of the First Among Trusted, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. “I am ready.”

“Do you swear to execute the will of our Ever Lord in the duty He has chosen for you?”

“I so swear.”

“To do what must be done, in spite of fear?”

“I swear.” There was a searing spot of pain on Karn’s brow as a single drop of hot wax landed on his skin.

Jhod continued; “To do what must be done, in spite of pride?”

“I swear.” There was another drop of pain.

“To do what must be done, in spite of hardship?”

“I swear.” Another drop.

“To do what must be done, in spite of temptation?”

“I swear.” Another.

“To do what must be done, in spite of the Deceiver?”

“I swear.”

After the last drop had fallen, Jhod pressed the holy seal of the Ever Lord onto Karn’s brow. The oath made, Jhod carefully pulled the fast cooling wax from Karn’s skin and placed it to the side. “So you have sworn this oath, so shall this seal remain whole. Break the oath, and you shall break the seal.”

His forehead stinging from the hot wax and his old bones aching from kneeling, Karn stood and settled gratefully back into his chair.

After Jhod had replaced the tools on the table, he offered Karn the letter. “Written within is the will of our Ever Lord, which is now your duty to fulfill. You are to speak to no one of what you find within.”

Karn took the letter, the smell of sweetdust still thick in his nostrils, and popped the seal open. He read swiftly, then again, slower. At last, he looked up. “What does this mean?”

Jhod waved his hands, leaning away from his friend. “Do not ask me. I have been spared the weight of wisdom in this matter. What he wrote there is for you and you alone.”

“Indeed,” Karn read again. “It must be, for it is so short. In his wisdom, he knew my aversion to the scholarly arts,” he looked up into Jhod’s careworn eyes, “but did not know my lack of skill with riddles. These words…they are meaningless.”

“It may seem so,” Jhod clasped his hands, “but I promise you, our Ever Lord would not place an obstacle in your path that he did not know you could surpass.”

“Perhaps not,” Karn rubbed his chin as he read the letter for a fourth time. “Yet neither are we his puppets. That I could one day glean the meaning of these words is cold comfort if it comes too late. I can see I am to travel to a barony of the Fourth World, but what I am to do when I arrive…”

“You will succeed, I am certain,” Jhod smiled a tired smile. “There are few among the Ever Empire that I would sooner trust with a command of our Ever Lord.”

Karn looked up. “I hope you are correct. Is there nothing more to be said, then? Am I to wander out of these doors and back to my bed with no more than this enigma as my guide?”

“I can give you little more, save my well wishes.”

“Perhaps not the most useful of gifts,” Karn smiled back, “But welcome all the same.” With that, he stood and saluted his farewell.

He noticed, as he left, that Jhod made no move to follow him nor to douse the fire he had set. He considered this as he made his way back through the cold night air to his warm chambers. Why did Jhod remain? Was he meeting with more nobles this night?

It occurred to Karn, not for the first time, that if Jhod had desired it, he could have written the letter Karn now held in his hand. All knew the sign and seal of the Ever Lord, there would be no difficulty in crafting a fake seal and pressing it into the wax. How would anyone know?

But to even think such a thing was a sin. If Jhod were to pretend to be the Ever Lord, there would be no salvation for his soul. To even imagine such a thing as possible put Karn’s own soul in peril. Such peril didn’t concern him too much. He knew his heart, and he knew that his soul had been placed in worse danger before. The question itself didn’t bother him either; whether the Ever Lord or Jhod had writ the letter, it didn’t matter. He knew his duty and would not be found wanting.

When he reached his chambers, he read the letter a sixth time. It didn’t make sense. What was his Ever Lord asking him to do?

He spent a full hour studying the letter, teasing out any hidden meaning he could find. ‘Journey’ was plain enough, as was ‘return,’ but the rest? Go where? Return with what?

A burst of inspiration hit before the hour was done. A distant memory of a petty Lord begging for House Li-Schan’s assistance in defending a holding from an antagonistic House. A means of coordinates using letters instead of numbers. If that was the case, then this nonsense was not a word, but a destination. This would therefore be a Port City designation, and this…

With the hour gone late, Li-Schan turned his attention to sleep. He knew where he needed to go, and that was a good enough start. What to do once he got there…

Well, he’d at least have the time of the journey to work that out.