Takeo's Chronicles, page 102
Takeo went still, and a chill ran down his spine.
“You wouldn’t,” he whispered.
“Oh, I would,” Botan replied. “Gladly. You will never hold this sword again, Karaoshi, but I know you will hope for it anyway, so long as this blade remains intact. Deliver the rakshasa to me, and I will give you the traitor’s name. Fail to do so before our armies meet again, and I will destroy your family’s sword. I will crush it into tiny pieces, melt them down, mix them into a ball of solid metal, and drop it into the deepest part of the ocean. Mark my words.”
Takeo’s throat was dry, and he could feel sweat starting to form on the top of his head despite the crisp morning air. Across the way, Gavin’s eyes went wide, and his lips parted. Botan glanced from one to the other in a slow, measured way.
The shogun waited a moment to see if Takeo had any response, then motioned his komainu to leave. Just before his mount disappeared between the gap and into the trees, he turned his cheek and paused.
“Oh, and one more thing,” he said. “Good luck in your coming battle. You’re going to need it.”
Chapter 2
Takeo and Gavin left the clearing at a slow pace. The silence was ominous, but they were too familiar with each other at this point for that to last long. As always, Gavin broke first.
“Well, let’s get on with it, then,” the knight said with a sigh. “Who do you think it is?”
“I’d rather not at this moment,” Takeo replied. “I have too many problems already. I have a prince I can’t properly advise, a rakshasa to defeat, another one to watch over, and my sword is being threatened with destruction. I think betrayal can sit out for a little while.”
Gavin shook his head, ducked under a branch, and then swayed back and forth on his komainu’s back.
“I think process of elimination would work best here,” the knight continued. “Obviously, our group is out. So that pretty much leaves the Hanu clan in its entirety. Should be easy to narrow down from there.”
Takeo closed his eyes at Gavin’s irksome pressing, but then relented. “Yes, well, I guess that depends on who you consider to be in our group.”
“You’re guessing Emy.”
“Not just her, but yes, everyone should suspect the rakshasa.”
Gavin made a sound of disgust and frowned. “You know, your prejudice against their kind is getting on my nerves. So Jabbar killed Emily, so what? That’s no reason to hate all of them.”
“It’s not just Jabbar,” Takeo countered. “It’s history. It’s practically law. You didn’t grow up in Savara like I did. You don’t understand what they’re like. Addicted to power, incapable of empathy, drunk on cruelty. It’s not a cultural thing either, like the ogres. Rakshasas travel alone most of the time, and I’ve never met one without the itch to be a tyrant. Emy’s only a couple years old. Give her time to mature.”
Gavin scoffed. “Time to mature. She looks like a full-grown person now, at least when she’s shifted. There’s no child left in her, and she’s never left Krunk’s side. Haven’t you seen how she cares for him? Doesn’t that count for something?”
“To you, yes,” Takeo said, “but just because she loves Krunk doesn’t mean she’s incapable of harm. Remember Heliena? She loved her mother dearly.”
Gavin couldn’t argue that point, or at least didn’t want to, but he wasn’t done yet.
“Alright, well you’re forgetting one important thing,” Gavin replied, and met the ronin’s gaze. “Lord Botan said it’s someone you trust.”
Takeo clenched his teeth and looked away.
“Well, let’s say it’s not her, then, for argument’s sake,” Takeo said. “Who else might it be?”
“Like I said.” Gavin shrugged. “It’s someone under the Hanu tree.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down much.”
“Oh really?” Gavin turned and raised an eyebrow. “Do tell, my good friend, exactly how many people in the Hanu clan do you trust?”
“That’s my point. I don’t trust any of them.”
The knight snapped his fingers and pointed at his friend. “That’s where you’re wrong. I think you’ve placed an awful lot of trust in one particular girl.”
Takeo’s eyebrows flew up, and he blinked. “You can’t be serious. Kuniko? You think she’s out to kill me?”
“Why not?” Gavin shrugged. “Didn’t you see her slay that lord? And not to mention what she and her followers did with the body. Takeo, that girl is insane, and you need to watch yourself around her.”
“That girl is above reproach. She did those things to earn my favor, wrong as they were. She would never betray me.”
Gavin scowled. “Really, Takeo? Interesting. Sounds like you really trust this person, who, may I remind you, ate people!”
“As have I,” Takeo said.
Their conversation took a forced pause as they came to a narrow passageway between a thick grove of trees. Takeo went first, letting his komainu duck and weave through the dense foliage, while he dodged tree branches and twitched his nose at the pollen in the air. The scent of fresh flowers mingled with the warm blanket of humidity and tried to lull Takeo to sleep. He was immune to Juatwa’s charms, however, having been baptized in the blood of this land.
When they were once again side by side, Gavin spoke up. “That’s in the past, and you weren’t given a choice. As for Kuniko, well neither of those terms applies. We’re on a dangerous slope here, Takeo, and I think you need to look at this situation with fresh eyes. The Hanu family isn’t the haven we once thought it was. It’s a pit of olgoi-khorkhoi, from top to bottom, and we’re neck deep in it.”
Gavin stopped, as if finished, but then added absentmindedly, “We should have taken Botan’s offer and switched sides when we had the chance. You know, I’ve been asking around about him. I’ve heard some great things, that he’s an honorable, good person. I think we made the wrong choice, not joining with him.”
“That’s not our concern anymore, Gavin,” Takeo said. “He’s the enemy.”
“Yeah, but aren’t you curious? I mean, I’ve heard lots of stories about him, talks of charity and such. That he respects his subjects, is kind to women and children. I mean, doesn’t that give you pause?”
“No. Did you not hear what he said back there, about having to kill his own family? He’s like the rest of them, perhaps worse because he hides it.”
Gavin pursed his lips and cast his gaze into the distance. “I don’t know, Takeo. I mean, I thought you said that was just part of life in Juatwa. Weren’t you willing to ignore that Nobu tried to have his mother killed? And you’re not even sure that’s true. I think Lord Botan can be forgiven for doing what he must to keep bad people from the throne.”
“That’s because you forgive too easily.”
“And you don’t forgive at all.”
They settled into an awkward silence as they approached the camp. The two shared a gaze that said their conversation was far from over, but they couldn’t risk being overheard. Even a common sentry could spread a rumor far and wide if given the chance.
Lord Nobu, being the shogun’s son and thus a prince, could never leave the safety of the Hanu keep without a well-fortified army. His mother simply wouldn’t have it. A few hundred bodyguards might be considered reasonable for most shogun, but Lady Zhenzhen wanted it clear that her son was far above any other royalty. She’d sent her son out with no less than one thousand men, despite Takeo’s many attempts to reason with her. He argued that such a large force would only make them a target for Qadir’s forces, slow and not large enough to stop any serious threat. They were better off traveling light and fast, as was his experience.
She didn’t agree.
So, slow and cumbersome they’d traveled, en route to catch up with the main bulk of their army. The Hanu force originally sent to deal with the Nguyens had met defeat after devastating defeat, reinforced several times by a good handful of generals. Qadir was making a mockery of them, and it was a shock that there were any forces left to fight. Morale was at an all-time low, and it was whispered among the ranks that this army should have been massacred months ago and only lived on because the rakshasa allowed it. Takeo knew why, of course. Qadir was defeating the generals, not the army, all in the hopes that he could lure out the right target, and it had worked. Lady Zhenzhen, emboldened by Takeo’s defeat of Lord Botan, had taken the bait and sent both the shining Prince Nobu and the infamous Takeo Karaoshi into the maws of the beast. Lady Zhenzhen slept easy, thinking the army and thus her son could retreat if they met defeat, as prior generals had done countless times before. Takeo knew better, but had kept quiet. He needed this battle.
Their army was less than a day from joining the main bulk of the Hanu forces, and Nobu and his plethora of advisors were already sending them orders. When Takeo and Gavin reached the camp’s outskirts, a sentry challenged them; to which they replied in kind and were allowed to pass.
Takeo noted the man bowed deeply to him and felt compelled to nod in reply. Since he’d held back Botan’s invasion, that had been happening a lot, but only amongst the lower caste. He was still looked down on by most Juatwa natives who possessed any drop of royal blood.
Takeo and Gavin made their way down rows of tents and past throngs of soldiers who were either marching or lounging—never anything in between. The two dropped their komainu off to the handler and then made their way back to their own outcropping of tents. On the way, a large man with a thick beard and a thicker hammer strapped to his back came running up to them.
“It’s about damned time you two got back!” Nicholas belched out as he sprinted up to them. He leaned in while darting his gaze left and right. “You would not believe who’s come to visit. They want to see you now, Takeo. I’ve been trying to delay them, give you time, but these things don’t exactly have patience, if you know what I mean.”
“Wait, did you say things?” Gavin asked.
The viking went to reply, but a heavy thud interrupted him. The trio turned to look down the way and found that Nicholas had been followed.
Standing amongst the rows of white tents and wandering samurai stood two exceptionally tall creatures with red skin, horned heads, and muscled bodies. They wore only loin cloths, dirty and stained as if hundreds of years old, and they carried massive club-like weapons with metal studs hammered into the wood. Their white eyes had a crazed look to them, yet their bodies were slouched with lazy contempt. They were the stuff of nightmares in many Juatwa stories, and Takeo couldn’t agree more.
“Well, you see,” Nicholas mumbled, unhelpfully late, “the oni have arrived.”
The two were staring directly at Takeo, and neither looked pleased.
“Well now,” Gavin said and began rolling his sword arm. “Guess they finally found us.”
“Takeo Karaoshi,” the closest oni called out, his voice so deep it could have come from beneath the earth. “At last.”
Truth be told, Takeo’s heart wasn’t beating at its normally calm pace. The last oni he’d encountered, one named Borota, had bashed him in the back with a massive club not unlike the ones these two carried. It was an oni’s favorite weapon, after all, and even had a special name: the kanabo. Takeo had been armed with his enchanted sword then and had only just survived. It had taken several dozen wounds from Takeo, Gavin, Nicholas, Krunk, and the whole Katsu army to bring the immortal Borota down.
Now there were two of them, and Takeo had no idea if they shared Borota’s murderous intent.
That isn’t to say Takeo hadn’t known this day was coming. The oni, and their akki underlings, were sworn allies to the Hanu army, and thus it was inevitable Takeo would run into them. Not just that, Takeo had learned that Borota would return from the dead one day, though how that was possible, no human seemed to know. All Takeo knew was that the truth about Borota’s death would one day come to light.
Perhaps that would be today.
“I tried to find Krunk first,” Nicholas whispered none to softly out the corner of his mouth. “Just so we’d be prepared, you know, but I think we’d need Emy, too. There’re two of them now. Maybe we should go find Kuniko and the others, too?”
“If they wanted to kill us, I don’t think they’d do it here,” Takeo whispered back, then nodded subtly to the plethora of armed troops milling about the camp. Most were giving the oni a wide berth. “I think it’s safe to say we have allies. Just stay close and follow my lead.”
“As if we’d do anything else,” Gavin said.
Takeo approached the oni at a casual pace, and all the while, the creatures watched with eyelids half closed. Admittedly, Takeo thought their kind fascinating. On the outside, they looked barbaric and unhinged, what with their wild, curly black hair, crazed white eyes, devilish horns, and jagged teeth, sporting both canines and tusks alike. It didn’t help that they never wiped the blood off of their weapons. Yet, for all their terrifying looks, it was becoming clear to Takeo that the oni were actually a bit lazy. They slouched even when standing, never paced or moved at all, really, unless the situation demanded it, and Takeo had a strong suspicion they blinked less often than humans, just enough to make whomever they stared at uncomfortable.
“You’ve only just arrived, I assume?” Takeo asked. “Is it just you two?”
“Just us,” the same one replied. “Well, the ninja also traveled with us, but not of our choice.”
Takeo raised an eyebrow.
Ninja? Probably Virote’s pet. That isn’t good news.
Takeo glanced back at Nicholas, but the big man seemed just as perplexed. He turned back to the oni.
“Really?” he said. “And did you come here for me? I know Borota was assigned to watch me. Are you two his replacements? I have to say, two oni guards seems excessive. I don’t know whether to be honored or insulted.”
“No, we’re here to guard Lord Nobu,” the same oni replied and shrugged one massive shoulder, his gaze drifting between sleepy and bored.
Takeo relaxed a hair and noticed Gavin and Nicholas do the same. Perhaps there would be no fight today.
“Well, that’s good to hear,” the samurai said. “What do I call you, and why were you looking for me?”
“I am Tokhta,” the oni said. The other didn’t say anything. “We came because rumors say one of Lord Katsu’s men slayed Borota. Nobu is in great danger if this is true. His life must be protected. As for you, I need to know who killed Borota.”
Takeo knew that one. He’d watched Nicholas deal the killing blow, smashing open Borota’s skull with several overhead swings from his massive maul. Nicholas had been quite proud of that achievement, yet dismayed that he couldn’t brag about it to every person that he met. It was a sour point for all involved.
“Honestly, it happened fast,” Takeo lied. “I don’t know the man who did it. Can I ask why that’s important to know?”
“No,” Tokhta grumbled. “That is a shame, but it’s of no consequence. In this time of war, we will know soon. Borota will resurface.”
The oni swung his kanabo up, slapping the shaft on his shoulder, flinging mud, and then the two trudged off. Takeo and the others had to step back to make way lest they be knocked over. The trio watched them go, waiting until their horned heads passed far off into the distant sea of white tents.
Gavin and Nicholas sighed at the same time.
“Two of them,” the knight said. “And to think there are more out there, too. I hear two to three dozen or so? Damn, as if we don’t have enough to worry about. Enemies at every side, I swear. It’s only a matter of time until they find out.”
“Nevermind that,” Takeo said. “At least we have time. Nicholas?”
“Yes?”
“I take it you didn’t see a ninja with them?”
Nicholas grimaced and shook his head.
“Then she’ll find me,” Takeo said. “She must have done the opposite of the oni: gone to see Lord Nobu first. First things first, since she’s here, take me to the group. We have things to do before I lose my privacy.”
The group, as Takeo called them, needed no explanation. He didn’t know what else to call them or, rather, refused to give them an official title. They were a group of about one hundred young, impressionable, aspiring samurai warriors who’d taken a severe and, admittedly, dangerous liking to Takeo. A handful of them had survived that last battle at Takeo’s side, and their de facto leader, Kuniko Zhao, had somehow recruited many others to join what she affectionately referred to as Takeo’s unit. She’d had her father, Lord Rithisak, reassign any volunteers to her unit and permanently assign that unit to Takeo.
What happened to them ultimately, though, was Takeo’s choice.
He’d allowed the group to exist for now because, in truth, he hadn’t been sure what to do with them. Kuniko and her lot had witnessed a stream of events—including the slaying of a lord—that Takeo had covered up to protect his own skin. He had wanted them close to see if any would leak the truth, but they’d proven steadfastly loyal to him thus far, or so it appeared. Perhaps they were just loyal to themselves, knowing that if the truth got out, they’d be in equal peril. However, that had been before Takeo had word of a traitor in his ranks, and he could think of no place closer to him than a personal unit over which he had no real control. Kuniko might be above reproach, but the others were not.
Nicholas led Takeo and Gavin over to where the group was training. They were always training, from sunup to sundown, like people possessed. Kuniko and her second-in-command, a tall and broad-shouldered samurai named Ping Sun, were relentless and inventive in a cruel sort of way. They didn’t train like normal soldiers in a line going through moves, but always in some sort of hybrid fashion that involved a potent mix of physical strength, mental capacity, and combative prowess. Things like fighting multiple foes while balancing on a pole in a fasted state or running up a steep hill with their arms tied behind their backs while others threw rocks at them. Their routines quickly became a spectacle for the rest of the Hanu army, whose leaders and generals openly mocked them. There was no punishment for self-induced training, though, and so the beatings continued. Gavin was a vocal opponent, but only to Takeo, as cultural differences and newfound fatherhood had kept the knight from trying to stop the sessions himself. Admittedly, Takeo agreed with the knight.
