Difference between revisions of "BurgerSlave/FineVintages"

Latest revision as of 01:15, 6 April 2010

Fine Vintages

"These are the signs of a traitor to kin:\\

Greed for the wealth he must share\\
Shedding of shared blood, their power to win\\
Ears that from them hear no prayer\\
Lust for the flesh of the common source born\\
Shatter each promise to them made\\
Banish the traitor by kin-bond forsworn\\
Give him no shelter or aid"

--Mercedes Lackey, 'Oathbreakers'

The policemen had been milling around the sumptuous apartments for some time. An investigating magistrate on the Council's payroll had been retained, and all the appropriate bribes, fines, and levies paid in cold, hard jade. It appeared to be a routine hit. Everyone knew that Tang-Zen and Daido Ji had been at each others' throats for years. The bosses of Tang-Zen must have been getting audacious indeed, for the victim this time was the younger son of Daido Ji's oyabun and his wife.

It was a damn shame, the magistrate concluded. Of all the criminal scum operating in Nexus, Daido Ji was the one he hated the least. They could never go fully legit--there was too much blood in the family's past. But in all his time serving the Council, they had never left a mess for him to clean up. The neighborhoods that paid them protection were happy and safe. Whenever business became 'unfortunate' (one of the many euphemisms the crime syndicates used instead of 'murder'), it was almost always scum nobody would miss that got dumped in the Yanaze.

The magistrate was examining the body now, while under-officers made notations of everything in the room. Daido Ji Rama had been a handsome fellow of not quite thirty summers. His wife had been a wealthy spinster. The magistrate remembered the wedding. All of Sentinel Hill had thronged with partygoers. They had been so happy. He remembered--he had been there, eating sweetmeats and drinking sake paid for with Daido Ji jade. That had been eleven years ago. Now, Rama lay on his front, his head twisted completely around to gaze up lifelessly at the ceiling. His wife had suffered a similar fate. It didn't appear that the poor girl had had to suffer much more than simple dismemberment. Tang-Zen legbreakers had a thing for raping Daido Ji women before killing them.

The magistrate shook his head, rising to his feet. "It's a shame," he said, turning to face the Daido Ji oyabun. No matter how many times the magistrate saw him, he was always amazed. It was said that Daido Ji Ursus was nearing eighty summers, and yet didn't appear a day over thirty. The rumormill said that he had a contact in the Guild that kept him in age-staving cordial, while others hinted that there might be some God-Blood in his branch of the Family. The magistrate had heard stories about how, fifty years ago, Daido Ji had been one of the most ruthless crime families in all of Nexus, and how, out of the blue, their simpleton legbreaker had grown a conscience, killed the oyabun, and put an end to all their illicit dealings. For the last forty-five years, Daido Ji had dealed explicitly in protection.

There are certainly worse things a crime family can do, the magistrate supposed.

For a man whose youngest son had been murdered, Ursus was remarkably stoic. His lips were pressed into a firm line beneath his whiskers, and his eyes like hard chips of granite.

"My granddaughter," he said quietly, his tone heavy. "Have you found my granddaughter yet?"

The magistrate shook his head. "We're still looking, Mr. Daido Ji, but we haven't found her yet," he said. He looked down at the bodies, which were being covered by a canvas sheet. "It's a shame," he repeated quietly. "They did so much for the community. They'll be missed."

Ursus simply nodded. "They will," he said.

The magistrate glanced up at Ursus. It was hard to think of him as a 'mobster' or a 'crime boss'. There was a kind of quiet majesty about the Daido Ji oyabun that made him seem trustworthy. The magistrate considered himself a fine judge of character. He liked Ursus. He was a good man who was dealt a poor hand. Perhaps, in another life, he might have been a legitimate security provider.

Ursus drew a deep breath. "I'd like to look around, if I may," he said. The magistrate nodded.

"Of course. I'll be in the front hall if you need anything." He put a hand on the larger man's shoulder. "Don't worry, Mr. Daido Ji. We'll find the ones who did this, and we'll make sure they suffer."

Ursus simply nodded. "I certainly hope you do," he said. With that, he turned and lumbered towards the stairs.

Ursus looked around the bedroom. It was immaculately kept, with small toys and dolls and pretty cheongsams perfectly sized for a little girl. He closed his eyes and opened himself to the world of Essence. Every word being spoken downstairs was thrown into sharp relief, and he could pick out each and every policeman by smell alone.

But it was the quiet, terrified breathing in the wardrobe that drew him, and he opened his eyes. Slowly, he made his way across the floor, his heavy boots ringing like hammers on an anvil in his ears. He crouched down before the wardrobe and spoke quietly.

"Ilya. Come out of there."

The door was flung open, and an eleven-year-old girl threw herself into his arms. "Grandpa!" she whimpered, burying her face in his chest. "I heard them, grandpa! I heard them fighting! I was so scared! I'm sorry!"

Ursus shushed her quietly, picking her up in his arms and stroking her hair. "I know, dear one. I know. I'm going to take care of you. You're gonna be okay."

Ilya wept into Ursus' shoulder, shaking her head. "I should have tried to stop them. I should have done something. I'm sorry, grandpa. I know Family comes before all, but I was too scared."

Ursus held his granddaughter at arm's length. "You did the right thing, Ilya," he said, giving her a firm shake. "You understand me? I don't want you to grow up 'til it's time for you to." That admonishment brought on a fresh rush of tears, and Ursus cradled her all the way down the stairs. He did not address the magistrate or the officers as he left the apartment. Nothing needed to be said. If Tang-Zen had left behind an assassin to deal with the girl, all his efforts would have been wasted. She was cradled in the safest place in all of Nexus at that moment.

The Golden Domino casino was in full swing that night, and silver and jade were flowing like the wine. Exotic girls dressed in gauzy veils carried trays laden with choice sweetmeats and intoxicants, while wealthy men and women played at cards, dice, go, and mah jong.

In the private suite above the gaming floor, Ophilis Ses entertained the wealthy and powerful of Nexus, floating in a smoke-laced world of giddy euphoria. The snakeman had a particular weakness for fine hashish, and paid well to have the best crops of the Southeast imported to his compound in Nexus. Tang-Zen's boss was engaged in the most wonderful witty banter with one of Plentimon's brood, when the door slammed open.

"Boss!" The intruder was one of the runner boys from the kitchen, pale-faced and shaking. "He's here!" He slammed the door shut and leaned on it, eyes wide with terror.

The bodyguards of various socialites, criminals, and divinities barely had enough time to rise out of their seats before the door exploded inward, propelling the kitchen-boy forward with a squeal.

Ursus strode through the ruins of the door with death in his eyes. Knobs of orichalcum encrusted his knuckles, spattered with fresh blood. He raised a thickly-muscled arm and leveled a single accusatory finger at Ses, whose tail was lashing with rage.

Ophilis Ses sputtered in fury. "You... how... dare you..." he hissed. "Men, show this insolent brigand what happens to those who upset Tang-Zen!"

As one, eight men strode forward. Ursus just grinned.

"You wanna play? I'll play," he snarled. He cracked his knuckles as Ses' thugs surrounded him. Gold winked at his forehead as Essence began to flow like blood. Then, he became a blur of motion. Every time his fist connected, a peal of thunder sounded and bone cracked. In the space of mere moments, the eight men lay dead at Ursus' feet. He glowered at the crowd of luminaries.

"If anyone else wishes to have their skull busted open, then please form a line at my right hand," Ursus growled. "Otherwise, get the hell out of here so Ses and I can talk all friendly-like."

One of the lesser goddesses hiding behind Plentimon's yojimbo let loose a squeal. "Look at his forehead. He is Exalted!"

It didn't take long for the room to empty, leaving Ursus and Ses glaring at each other.

"You will pay dearly for this outrage, Daido Ji," Ses hissed, drawing himself up to his full height. "You and your entire bastard fa--urrk!" The threat died in Ses' throat. Ursus had crossed the room in a single heartbeat. Golden sparkles trailed in his wake. In that same breath, he had his hand around Ses' throat and the snakeman up against the wall.

"I'm only gonna say this once, you sorry-assed sack o' shit!" Ursus snarled, his eyes narrowed. "You keep your filthy thugs away from my Family. You come near 'em again, an' I'll kill ya. You got me?"

Ses' smile was a cold, heartless one. "Come now, Ursus. Surely you're not that foolish, are you?" he said. "If you kill me, someone else will take my place. And then, Tang-Zen will crush your family out of existence. You cannot hope to--awwk!"

Ursus' fingers closed around Ses' throat. Ses clawed at the thick arm holding him up. "Ursus... stop... we are both... Night Caste," the snakeman wheezed. "You would not... kill your brother... would you?"

Ursus's face turned cold. "My son is dead because of you, Ses," he said, his voice quiet as the tomb and brimming with hate. "Killing you would be a pleasure." With that, he let the snakeman drop, looming over him full of threat and meanace. "Last warning," he said. "Cross me again, and I'll make you beg me for death before I'm finished with you."

With that, Ursus turned on his heel and lumbered out of the suite. He could feel Ses' ophidian eyes boring holes between his shoulder blades. But he was not afraid. The snakeman had got the message.

Ilya padded on silent feet through the halls of her grandfather's compound. She held her favorite doll clutched in her arms. Every now and then, an adult would pass by, and she would flatten against a wall. "Don't see me," she would think to herself. And the trick would work, like it always did. The adult would pass by without pause, passing close enough to touch her, but never seeing her. She had become very good at it.

It was the same trick that she had used the night the Bad Man came to the house, five years ago. While she heard shouting and screaming downstairs, Ilya had hidden in her closet, making herself invisible. She had hidden and prayed to any god who would hear her to make the Bad Man go away and make everything okay. The next thing she could remember, her beloved Grandpa Ursus had come to take her away.

Family is everything. That's the Daido Ji way.

She found her grandfather where she knew she would, reclining in his den. He slowly pulled at his pipe, watching the smoke curl in the air, while a bottle of sake was held near the fire to keep it warm. Ilya padded into the den on tiptoes, but she knew he would hear her.

"You should be in bed, dear heart," Ursus said without looking her way. "You have a big day tomorrow."

Ilya bit her lip. "I cannot sleep, grandpa," she said. Here, in the den, she could call him that, and he could call her 'dear heart'. When anyone else from the Family was about, it was always 'Ilya' and 'Honored Grandfather'.

Ursus chuckled, and patted the sofa next to him. "Come sit with me, then," he said. Ilya did so gladly, curling up next to her grandfather's bulk. His burly arm surrounded her shoulders, and she felt safe, at long last.

"Is it dreams again?" Ursus asked, looking down at her. Ilya nodded.

"It's been five years, grandpa. But I still dream about it." Ilya watched the fire, drawing a deep breath. "They're never going to find the ones who did it, are they?"

Ursus sighed. "Probably not," he said quietly. He was quiet for a long while, puffing in silence while Ilya watched the fire crackle. Then, she looked up at him.

"Tell me a story?" she asked. Ursus glanced down, chuckling.

"Aren't you getting too old for stories?" he asked. Ilya shook her head.

"Not when you tell them," she said.

Ursus nodded. "A story. Hmm. Let me think for a moment." He picked up his cup of sake and downed it in one go. He licked his lips, letting out a sigh. "Family blood is like fine wine," he said. "It gets better with age. Its flavor ripens. But when it's wasted, it's a tragedy."

Ilya nodded. "Go on," she said.

Ursus leaned back in his seat, exhaling a cloud of smoke towards the ceiling. Then, he began his story...

Once upon a time, there was a man who was thought of as a great hero by some. He and his companions had performed great deeds. It is believed, by some, that he was one of the Exalted, Chosen of the gods themselves. But the time came for the circle of friends to part, and the man returned to his hometown. He fell in love with a woman, and they married, as people often do. The man and his wife had a son. We'll call him Toma.

Now, the man believed as we do, dear heart: Family comes first. So, he lavished all his wealth and attention on Toma (for being a hero can be quite profitable), and gave the boy every advantage he could. But, for his part, Toma became spoiled and ill-tempered. The man tried to teach Toma how to act properly, with respect for his elders and generosity for those less fortunate than he. But greed had hardened Toma's heart and closed his ears. When he was old enough, he took his leave of the man's house. The night they parted, they exchanged angry words. The man said things he did not really mean, and in return, Toma broke his father's heart. They have not spoken since.

For a long while, the man did not think he wanted any more children. He believed himself to be a failure as a father, you see. Instead, he poured himself into his Family's business, making sure everything got run properly. When he had the time, he would take a trip down the Yanaze to see his friends in the next city over. It was during one such visit that the man's neighbors had come to his home. They had seemed courteous, but they had wicked intentions. When the man returned, he found his wife dead and his house burnt.

Of course, he didn't let this stand. He took his revenge on the men that had killed his wife and burned his house. He left their leader alive, as an example to anyone else who would dare to harm his Family. It took him many years to rebuild. Fortunately, his friends were able to come to his aid when he called, and he rebuilt his Family business from scratch. When he was done, his business was one of the finest in all the city. He made new friends, and this made his neighbor all the more jealous.

For a long time, the man felt as if he could never fall in love again. But he did, and his new wife bore him another son. We'll call this boy Mara. Now, the father had learned much in the years since Toma was born, and he was determined to raise his second son properly. But, he had passed on a measure of his power to his new son, since his own had grown. So perhaps he really was Exalted. But this is just a story, so we'll never really know.

Mara was made to appreciate his father's wealth. He was made to earn all the privileges he was given. Mara grew up respecting his elders and appreciating the wisdom they shared with him. He married a shopkeeper's girl, and made the man a proud grandfather. But the man's neighbor saw their prosperity and became angered by it. Once again, he came to Mara's house with a courteous seeming but wicked intentions. He told Mara about the brother he had never met, and how Toma had become wealthy and powerful. He planted seeds of jealousy and resentment in Mara's heart.

That night, Mara invited the man over for dinner, and over the meal, he brought Toma up. This opened old wounds, and the man refused to talk about it. He tried to drop the subject, but Mara was willful, and refused to stop. He demanded to know why he had not been given all the same advantages as his older brother. He wanted to know why the man had lied to him, why he had hidden the truth. The man tried to keep calm, to discuss things rationally, but Mara would not have it. Finally, he said that if the man could not give him the same wealth as Toma, then perhaps their neighbor might.

That was the last straw. Perhaps Mara had said that only to be hurtful, but he should have known better. The man had taught him all his life that the worst thing you can do is betray your Family. The man became angry, and they shouted. And once again, things were said that broke the man's heart. Only this time, his limit broke as well, and he became overwhelmed by his anger. He killed Mara and his wife, and tore their dining room to pieces. By the time his senses returned, it was too late for him to save either one, and he fled in shame.

Ursus watched the dying embers as he drew his story to a close. "And the man has never spoken of that night with anyone else," he said. "But he was able to take his grand-daughter in, and help raise her. Perhaps she will be wise where his sons were not. That is his dearest and most precious wish." He closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath. "He loved his sons, more than anything. But they betrayed him, and there's only one penalty for those who betray the Family. So you can understand. Can't you?"

Ilya watched as Ursus drained another cup of sake. As his face turned from the firelight, she saw something glimmer in the dark.

"Grandpa, there's something on your forehead," she said.

Ursus shook his head. "Nah. It's just a trick of the light, dear heart," he said. "Now, you skedaddle on to bed. Tomorrow's your birthday, and you want to be ready to play your sanxian for us, don't you?"

Ilya hugged him around the neck, and then stole out of the den. When she rounded the corner, she hugged her doll to her chest and drew in a breath. "Don't see me," she whispered. "Don't see me." And she poked her head around the corner.

Ursus watched the fire. Fresh tear-tracks glimmered on his face. But that was not what drew Ilya's eye. It was the gold circle on his forehead, ever so faint, as though a ghost had painted it there with a brush. He drew his hand across his eyes. "God damn you, Rama. If it had been anyone but Ses, I could've forgiven you," he whispered.

That was enough for Ilya. She turned and padded down the hallway back to her room.

He had said her father's name. He had all but admitted it. Could it be that her loving grandfather, the man she had come to depend on for everything, was the Bad Man from her nightmares?

No, Ilya refused to believe it. He had never lied to her before. Her grandfather was many things, but he was not a monster. She knew that the Family business was dangerous at times, and called for harsh measures now and again. But she refused to believe that her grandfather could murder his own son.

Unless, of course, the story was true, and Rama had betrayed him. She knew that Ophilis Ses was the name of Tang-Zen's boss, and she knew that Tang-Zen had been rivals of Daido Ji for as long as she could remember. Everything her own father and her grandfather had ever told her about Tang-Zen led her to believe that they were the very incarnation of what was wrong and immoderate in the great city of Nexus.

Ilya thought long and hard, cradling her doll close. If she had learnt that her own father had betrayed her grandpa and gone over to Tang-Zen, just for a little bit of money, could she find it in herself to hate him?

The sun was starting to gray the horizon when Ilya finally came to her decision. She burrowed beneath the silken coverlets and drifted off to sleep.

For the first time in five years, she did not dream.

Commentary?

I loved it, wonderfully done. -- BogMod

Très cool.... --MF