Takeo's Chronicles, page 111
The worst of his fears were confirmed when they met their allied soldiers returning from the enemy’s encampment at a dead run.
“Retreat! Retreat!” Takeo heard in the distance as his army broke into a field of high grass and scattered trees.
From the opposite direction, a disarray of maybe fifty Hanu samurai came bolting across, waving their hands and shouting at Takeo’s troops.
“Run!” one yelled. “They’re coming! Back to the camp!”
“Stop them and take position,” Takeo commanded of his own men, then drew his sword and stepped forward. “Stop retreating, you fools! Who is in charge? Where is your commander?”
The one who yelled came bolting over to Takeo. He doubled over to bow, but Takeo grabbed the man’s shoulder and hoisted him back up.
“Your commander, where is he?” Takeo asked.
“Dead, sir, my lord,” the man stuttered, clearly unsure what title to use until his eyes took in Takeo’s short hair. Only one man served the Hanu army and wore a ronin’s cut. “Sir, I’m sorry,” the man said, eyes going wide. “I didn’t order the retreat. Please, don’t kill me.”
Takeo glared at him.
“Don’t waste my time with useless requests,” he said. “Answer me. How many of them?”
“Too many, my lord.”
“That’s not a number.”
“I didn’t count. I, I couldn’t. Please, my lord, I have a family.”
The man was near tears now, trembling. Takeo lost his patience and slapped him. “Pull yourself together. If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have waited. Now pick up your sword and join the ranks. Everyone else! Get ready!”
Takeo could hear the enemy approaching. They weren’t far behind the Hanu troops, but they were far enough to give Takeo pause. He expected the Nguyen skirmishers to be faster than this, lighter and more dogged. They should have been right on the fleeing Hanus’ heels, cutting them down in droves.
Unless they aren’t skirmishers, Takeo realized, too late.
The Nguyen forces broke the treeline, and Takeo took in the sight of a full-fledged army geared for war: strong and tall men and women dressed in heavy layers of laminar armor and wielding katanas, spears, and even bows. Thankfully, all of them were foot soldiers, yet they numbered in the hundreds as Takeo’s practiced eye summed up their mass. He couldn’t see their depth, but he noticed their breadth, and he swallowed hard.
The Nguyen army roared at the sight of fresh troops and broke into a sprint.
“Listen to me!” Takeo yelled over the thunder. “Listen! Watch the back ranks. If their numbers thin when they pass the halfway mark, hold your ground.”
“And if they don’t?” Kuniko shouted back.
Takeo didn’t reply. He counted time with the beat of his heart, which was calm, steady, and true. All the while, his mind raced.
This is no skirmish force. Why are they here? How many? Were they sent to crush our counterforces, or were these sent just for me? No, they couldn’t be. I left too suddenly. Qadir may be a rakshasa, but the army is still human, and no human army can react that fast.
At the halfway mark, the Nguyen soldiers did not slow, and their numbers did not thin.
“My lord?” Kuniko asked.
Takeo stayed steady. He had to know. The Nguyen forces outnumbered them by now, and every moment he waited, more troops streamed into view. And yet he watched and waited, because knowledge was power, until the Nguyen forces reached the three-quarters mark, and still their numbers did not thin.
“My lord?” Kuniko pressed.
Her voice was losing its steady tone, as even her loyalty was being tested by the mass of screaming soldiers streaming at them. Her words echoed the sentiments of the rest of the troops, who shifted uneasily in their stances, yet none dared run, not while Takeo still stood at the helm.
Come on. Thin, shrink, stop the flow. Another few steps will be enough.
The Nguyens were nearly upon them, their combined forces a deafening roar, and still their numbers did not thin, and Takeo had his answer.
“Run!” he yelled.
His army turned and bolted, though Takeo stayed behind until the first Nguyen soldier reached him. Every army had at least one crazy fool who was faster and braver than the rest, and that man saw Takeo standing out as a challenge. He reached the ronin far ahead of his allies, and a moment later, he died to Takeo’s blade, still grinning with all the glory he thought he was to earn that day. As the body dropped, Takeo watched the next rows hesitate, if only for a second, and then Takeo turned and dashed off with the rest of his army.
He caught up with ease as speed had always been one of his defining qualities. In the rear were all the people who’d once been in the front. Emy, hefting a heavy load of food stores and a tall woman; Krunk, huffing and sucking air because no ogre was meant for heavy sprinting beyond one or two Lucifan streets; Kuniko, yelling equal parts encouragement and threats at the rest of the army to run faster or risk being slaughtered; and Qing, who for once in her life had dropped her look of quiet discontent, sharing a glance with Takeo that was serious to a fault.
“What now, ronin?” she said, not a drop of sarcasm in her voice.
“You’re faster than this, aren’t you?” Takeo replied.
Qing nodded.
“Sprint ahead, everything you have,” he commanded. “Get to the camp and tell them to prepare. It will be an even fight, I think, if we can add their number to ours. Go now.”
The ninja, weighed down by nothing but air and dark broodings, took off at a sprint that would leave Takeo struggling to catch up, if he tried. Her footing was immaculate, leaping off the ground’s uneven spread and dodging tree roots with neither stumble nor pause.
Takeo ran with his sword drawn and kept his pace purposeful to maintain his place at the back of the ranks. Any time one of his men fell behind, he would drift near them, hovering, so they could glimpse him and his sword dripping fresh blood. One look was usually all it took for them to swallow their pain and double their efforts. He wasn’t sure if they drew strength or fear from his presence, or perhaps both, but it worked, and that was all he needed to know. He checked over his shoulder regularly, where always he heard the Nguyen army following them, and yet they did not catch up, which meant there were no komainu in their ranks.
To that, Takeo was most grateful.
He dared even catch a glimmer of hope when they were halfway back to the camp and still the Nguyen forces had not closed the distance. In fact, they were falling far behind. That was until they met Qing sprinting back towards them.
“Takeo!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, banging her way through the troops. “Stop! Everyone stop. Takeo!”
“Here,” he called back, and the army parted for him as he made his way to her voice. “Do as she says. Stop. All of you.”
Their army came to a halt in a grove of trees. Everyone was breathing hard from their mad run, but these were youthful skirmishers, and they wouldn’t be winded for long. It had still been a harsh pace, though, and even Takeo was taking deep breaths. Krunk was doubled over, sweating profusely, but he was an ogre made of sterner stuff than most. Emy breathed like Takeo, while on her back, Mako looked horribly disheveled from the run.
Takeo met Qing in the center of the army, where men and women formed a small inner circle.
“What, what is it?” Takeo demanded.
Qing’s eyes were wide.
“It’s a trap,” she gasped. “They must have waited for us to arrive and then leave. The camp,” she said, then paused. “All dead. Nguyen forces. More of them. They’re coming.”
A collective silence swept through the army as everyone went still. In that silence, Takeo heard the approaching Nguyen forces still shouting their battle cries and their armor and weapons clanging in the distance. Only now the sound wasn’t coming from just one direction. It was coming from all sides.
A flash of panic swept through Takeo, and then it was gone. Cold, calculated death surrounded him in its place. People would die today.
“Which sides?” he said. “Are they flanking us, or are we encircled?”
“I think we’re just flanked, but I’m sure they mean to encircle us,” she said.
“Does anyone know this land?” Takeo called out to his men. “Anyone? Is anyone from here?”
No reply, and Takeo had only a paltry hand-drawn map to go on. It didn’t detail anything he needed out in this area. He didn’t know the rivers, mountains, forests, meadows, or even the closest keep or daimyo’s mansion. He was ill prepared for this.
“Damn it all,” he said through clenched teeth as howls from the enemy army grew near. “Everyone, prepare! Take a stand; face outwards. On my mark, we retreat in the direction I call, slow and purposeful. Krunk, I’ll need your shoulders.”
Takeo would have used a tree in Krunk’s place, but ogres didn’t have branches that could block one’s sight. Takeo climbed up on Krunk’s shoulders to get a view of his entire army. They did as he commanded, drawing into a tight circle and facing outwards in preparation.
The Nguyen armies came from both sides, the maneuver beautifully executed.
A river of green-clad samurai and conscripts wielding katanas and spears already soaked in blood poured in around them, eager grins on their faces at having finally cornered their prey. They charged in towards Takeo’s lines, and the sounds of battle rang out. Swords clanged, men screamed, and victors howled. In the clamor of it all, if one listened carefully, they could even pick out the sounds of dead bodies thumping to the ground. Takeo’s forces held strong, not that they had any other option. Those at the frontlines never took their eyes off their opponents, but everyone else was looking to Takeo. As for the ronin, he glanced back and forth between the two directions from which the Nguyen armies had not yet come.
I know they’ll try. Their commander is clearly a cunning soul. Which side will swing first?
And then he saw it, a flash of green and shine of metal encroaching on their southern flank.
“There!” Takeo yelled at the top of his lungs and pointed opposite, north. “That way, run, move! Kuniko, lead the way.”
Takeo leapt from Krunk’s shoulders and dashed to what would soon be their rear guard. The army needed no second command. They shifted as a mass of steel and blood and drew away from the Nguyen forces. The enemy pursued, but could not press them now. Their army was constantly creating space. Takeo moved with them, stepping back carefully to avoid tripping. He held his sword straight and ready. He didn’t have to wait long.
The Nguyen forces, attempting to encircle them, came screaming at Takeo and those men and women with whom he stood. They saw the group trying to leave and so pressed their luck with a mad dash. Takeo wasted no time in cutting down any that dared come within his reach. Parry, dodge, slash, and a body hit the ground, and Takeo stepped away from it to move with his army. The fallen foe was left behind to trip their pursuers.
The enemy came in waves, a mass of bodies crashing against a stone wall and a flurry of blows felling men like weeds on both sides.
Those beside Takeo fared better, as did those who stood shoulder-to-waist with Krunk. The ogre had taken up position somewhere along Takeo’s left, swinging his meat cleaver in that favorite manner of his that wiped an area clean and made mortals question their sanity. Those Nguyens who hesitated were sometimes pushed by the throng of their own men and fell into Krunk’s swing unprepared. His might was ferocious, and his sword cleaved men in two. Those who dodged went down to the few samurai standing next to the ogre.
They marched, almost at a walking pace, and Takeo wasn’t sure how long this could go on. If the enemy commander were smart, and he or she most clearly was, they’d send troops sprinting ahead to cut off Takeo’s retreat, but such a thing would take time, and that was what Takeo was counting on. The light was fading, and darkness crept in. If they could hold out until then, the enemy numbers wouldn’t count for so much. They could slip away, not unharassed, maybe, but at least there was that chance.
As dusk fell, the Nguyen forces didn’t pursue so strongly. People tripped over unseen roots or slipped on moss-covered ground. Tree branches and leaves blocked sight further, and the Nguyens stopped to strike up torches. They held them in the second row, so the light wouldn’t ruin the night vision of their frontlines, yet would ruin that of Takeo’s rear guard. Surely, if Takeo had meant to fight, it would have been a great plan. Instead, he gave the order to run.
Their army bolted, slipping off into the coming darkness as the Nguyen forces fell behind. The enemy kept trying to encircle Takeo’s group as evidenced by the light of torches all along their sides. None could run at a full sprint as the sun slipped away, but Takeo’s side had fear and necessity on their side. They left the Nguyen forces behind, right up until Takeo’s men suddenly came to a stop.
“Keep running,” Takeo commanded. “We go through the night.”
He pushed his way through his soldiers until he saw why they’d stopped.
They’d run right up against a mountain, literally, with its smooth, vertical face blocking their exit. In the fading light beneath the grove of trees, none of them had noticed, and no one knew these lands well enough to lead them away. In the distance, the Nguyen torches had stopped advancing but surrounded them on all sides.
It seemed Qadir had been one step ahead all along.
Chapter 10
“So much for the infamous ronin,” Qing muttered as she stood next to Takeo and gazed up at the sheer wall of stone.
“My lord, why are they stopping?” Kuniko asked, gazing out in the opposite direction.
The surrounding trees had not thinned at the mountain’s base, yet through the darkness and leaves, they could all see the line of enemy torches in the distance. The Nguyen army had surrounded them in a half circle, stopping a good distance away, enough so they couldn’t be clearly seen.
Takeo sighed.
“Their commander doesn’t want to risk a night attack,” he said. “They’re setting up a perimeter around us. Smart thinking. It’s hard to coordinate an attack at night when no one can see, even with torches. We could fake our numbers on one end and break through at another, and they wouldn’t know until it was too late. Too much can go wrong for them and right for us in the dark, which is exactly what I’d been hoping for. They’ll wait until morning and then slaughter us.”
“But you’ve got a plan, right?” Kuniko replied. “You always have a plan.”
Takeo’s mind raced. The eyes of his soldiers bore down on him. Their group was silent, minus the deep gasps for air, yet in the distance, they heard the shouts of the enemy barking orders and setting up camp. More torches were lit, bathing their surroundings in orange, flickering light.
The stars peered down on them in silent sorrow, and the mountain laughed at their pitiful existence.
“This is why a commander doesn’t do the dirty work,” Qing said. “If only you were smart enough to know that and not so bloodthirsty, the Hanu army might still stand a chance.”
“Watch your tongue,” Kuniko spat back. “You will not speak to my lord that way.”
Qing laughed.
“I’ll do whatever I want. We’re about to die, and he’s no lord. He’s an intelligent golem, summoned only to fulfill a specific task. Well, he was supposed to be intelligent. It seems he’s a dumb block of clay, just like the stories say.”
Kuniko drew her sword, which she only got out halfway before Qing drew her own blade, and the whole camp stepped back, except for Takeo. He didn’t even glance at them.
“Stand down,” he said. “Neither of you are helping.”
Kuniko swallowed and hesitated, but did as she was told, sheathing her sword. Qing waited until the samurai’s hand left her blade before sheathing her own. The ninja darted a shrewd glance at Takeo as if he were personally responsible.
Takeo didn’t blame her. In a way, he was responsible, but that didn’t make him wrong. Of course, neither was Qing.
She’s right. I’ve been played for a fool. I thought I could try and see through a rakshasa’s trap, but I assumed too little. I didn’t consider every option, and now we’re trapped, alone and outnumbered. What an idiot. I don’t have my sword; I should stop acting like I do.
“Sir!” a voice called out. “Takeo!”
A young man came from the fringes of their army and bowed. Takeo gave a nod.
“Sir, the enemy commander asked to speak with our leader,” he said. “We think that’s what he’s shouting, anyway.”
“Who is he?” Takeo asked. “Did he give a name?”
“Yes, my lord. He said,” the man replied but then paused. “That’s strange. He just told me, I swear, but I can’t recall. He even had me repeat it, I know. This is strange, my lord. I can’t seem to remember. I, I—”
Takeo’s pulse rose, and his eyes went wide.
“Where is he?” he demanded. “Did he come from your direction?”
“Yes, lord, I believe.”
Takeo charged off, and Qing followed at his heels. She looked at him expectantly as if waiting for him to command her to stay put, but he didn’t. He was getting tired of fighting her on everything, and besides, this time around, he wanted someone at his side. The man he was going to face was a treacherous rogue.
“How do you know who it is?” Qing whispered as they broke away from their army. “That boy didn’t even give you a description.”
“Precisely,” Takeo replied.
Halfway between the armies, a lone man stood with a single torch rammed into the ground at his back. He looked nothing but a silhouette, somewhat short with small ears and a wiry figure. He slouched, as if military bearing were beneath him, and started to chuckle as Takeo stepped into the light.
“Wow,” the man said. “Now, isn’t this something. Takeo Karaoshi, as I live and breathe.”
“Aiguo Mein,” Takeo answered. “It’s been too long.”
“Well, this is just wonderful.” Aiguo chuckled in that dull, forgettable tone of his. “Qadir knew you’d send reinforcements, but never did we think you’d send yourself. My lord is going to be quite pleased.”
“Retreat! Retreat!” Takeo heard in the distance as his army broke into a field of high grass and scattered trees.
From the opposite direction, a disarray of maybe fifty Hanu samurai came bolting across, waving their hands and shouting at Takeo’s troops.
“Run!” one yelled. “They’re coming! Back to the camp!”
“Stop them and take position,” Takeo commanded of his own men, then drew his sword and stepped forward. “Stop retreating, you fools! Who is in charge? Where is your commander?”
The one who yelled came bolting over to Takeo. He doubled over to bow, but Takeo grabbed the man’s shoulder and hoisted him back up.
“Your commander, where is he?” Takeo asked.
“Dead, sir, my lord,” the man stuttered, clearly unsure what title to use until his eyes took in Takeo’s short hair. Only one man served the Hanu army and wore a ronin’s cut. “Sir, I’m sorry,” the man said, eyes going wide. “I didn’t order the retreat. Please, don’t kill me.”
Takeo glared at him.
“Don’t waste my time with useless requests,” he said. “Answer me. How many of them?”
“Too many, my lord.”
“That’s not a number.”
“I didn’t count. I, I couldn’t. Please, my lord, I have a family.”
The man was near tears now, trembling. Takeo lost his patience and slapped him. “Pull yourself together. If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have waited. Now pick up your sword and join the ranks. Everyone else! Get ready!”
Takeo could hear the enemy approaching. They weren’t far behind the Hanu troops, but they were far enough to give Takeo pause. He expected the Nguyen skirmishers to be faster than this, lighter and more dogged. They should have been right on the fleeing Hanus’ heels, cutting them down in droves.
Unless they aren’t skirmishers, Takeo realized, too late.
The Nguyen forces broke the treeline, and Takeo took in the sight of a full-fledged army geared for war: strong and tall men and women dressed in heavy layers of laminar armor and wielding katanas, spears, and even bows. Thankfully, all of them were foot soldiers, yet they numbered in the hundreds as Takeo’s practiced eye summed up their mass. He couldn’t see their depth, but he noticed their breadth, and he swallowed hard.
The Nguyen army roared at the sight of fresh troops and broke into a sprint.
“Listen to me!” Takeo yelled over the thunder. “Listen! Watch the back ranks. If their numbers thin when they pass the halfway mark, hold your ground.”
“And if they don’t?” Kuniko shouted back.
Takeo didn’t reply. He counted time with the beat of his heart, which was calm, steady, and true. All the while, his mind raced.
This is no skirmish force. Why are they here? How many? Were they sent to crush our counterforces, or were these sent just for me? No, they couldn’t be. I left too suddenly. Qadir may be a rakshasa, but the army is still human, and no human army can react that fast.
At the halfway mark, the Nguyen soldiers did not slow, and their numbers did not thin.
“My lord?” Kuniko asked.
Takeo stayed steady. He had to know. The Nguyen forces outnumbered them by now, and every moment he waited, more troops streamed into view. And yet he watched and waited, because knowledge was power, until the Nguyen forces reached the three-quarters mark, and still their numbers did not thin.
“My lord?” Kuniko pressed.
Her voice was losing its steady tone, as even her loyalty was being tested by the mass of screaming soldiers streaming at them. Her words echoed the sentiments of the rest of the troops, who shifted uneasily in their stances, yet none dared run, not while Takeo still stood at the helm.
Come on. Thin, shrink, stop the flow. Another few steps will be enough.
The Nguyens were nearly upon them, their combined forces a deafening roar, and still their numbers did not thin, and Takeo had his answer.
“Run!” he yelled.
His army turned and bolted, though Takeo stayed behind until the first Nguyen soldier reached him. Every army had at least one crazy fool who was faster and braver than the rest, and that man saw Takeo standing out as a challenge. He reached the ronin far ahead of his allies, and a moment later, he died to Takeo’s blade, still grinning with all the glory he thought he was to earn that day. As the body dropped, Takeo watched the next rows hesitate, if only for a second, and then Takeo turned and dashed off with the rest of his army.
He caught up with ease as speed had always been one of his defining qualities. In the rear were all the people who’d once been in the front. Emy, hefting a heavy load of food stores and a tall woman; Krunk, huffing and sucking air because no ogre was meant for heavy sprinting beyond one or two Lucifan streets; Kuniko, yelling equal parts encouragement and threats at the rest of the army to run faster or risk being slaughtered; and Qing, who for once in her life had dropped her look of quiet discontent, sharing a glance with Takeo that was serious to a fault.
“What now, ronin?” she said, not a drop of sarcasm in her voice.
“You’re faster than this, aren’t you?” Takeo replied.
Qing nodded.
“Sprint ahead, everything you have,” he commanded. “Get to the camp and tell them to prepare. It will be an even fight, I think, if we can add their number to ours. Go now.”
The ninja, weighed down by nothing but air and dark broodings, took off at a sprint that would leave Takeo struggling to catch up, if he tried. Her footing was immaculate, leaping off the ground’s uneven spread and dodging tree roots with neither stumble nor pause.
Takeo ran with his sword drawn and kept his pace purposeful to maintain his place at the back of the ranks. Any time one of his men fell behind, he would drift near them, hovering, so they could glimpse him and his sword dripping fresh blood. One look was usually all it took for them to swallow their pain and double their efforts. He wasn’t sure if they drew strength or fear from his presence, or perhaps both, but it worked, and that was all he needed to know. He checked over his shoulder regularly, where always he heard the Nguyen army following them, and yet they did not catch up, which meant there were no komainu in their ranks.
To that, Takeo was most grateful.
He dared even catch a glimmer of hope when they were halfway back to the camp and still the Nguyen forces had not closed the distance. In fact, they were falling far behind. That was until they met Qing sprinting back towards them.
“Takeo!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, banging her way through the troops. “Stop! Everyone stop. Takeo!”
“Here,” he called back, and the army parted for him as he made his way to her voice. “Do as she says. Stop. All of you.”
Their army came to a halt in a grove of trees. Everyone was breathing hard from their mad run, but these were youthful skirmishers, and they wouldn’t be winded for long. It had still been a harsh pace, though, and even Takeo was taking deep breaths. Krunk was doubled over, sweating profusely, but he was an ogre made of sterner stuff than most. Emy breathed like Takeo, while on her back, Mako looked horribly disheveled from the run.
Takeo met Qing in the center of the army, where men and women formed a small inner circle.
“What, what is it?” Takeo demanded.
Qing’s eyes were wide.
“It’s a trap,” she gasped. “They must have waited for us to arrive and then leave. The camp,” she said, then paused. “All dead. Nguyen forces. More of them. They’re coming.”
A collective silence swept through the army as everyone went still. In that silence, Takeo heard the approaching Nguyen forces still shouting their battle cries and their armor and weapons clanging in the distance. Only now the sound wasn’t coming from just one direction. It was coming from all sides.
A flash of panic swept through Takeo, and then it was gone. Cold, calculated death surrounded him in its place. People would die today.
“Which sides?” he said. “Are they flanking us, or are we encircled?”
“I think we’re just flanked, but I’m sure they mean to encircle us,” she said.
“Does anyone know this land?” Takeo called out to his men. “Anyone? Is anyone from here?”
No reply, and Takeo had only a paltry hand-drawn map to go on. It didn’t detail anything he needed out in this area. He didn’t know the rivers, mountains, forests, meadows, or even the closest keep or daimyo’s mansion. He was ill prepared for this.
“Damn it all,” he said through clenched teeth as howls from the enemy army grew near. “Everyone, prepare! Take a stand; face outwards. On my mark, we retreat in the direction I call, slow and purposeful. Krunk, I’ll need your shoulders.”
Takeo would have used a tree in Krunk’s place, but ogres didn’t have branches that could block one’s sight. Takeo climbed up on Krunk’s shoulders to get a view of his entire army. They did as he commanded, drawing into a tight circle and facing outwards in preparation.
The Nguyen armies came from both sides, the maneuver beautifully executed.
A river of green-clad samurai and conscripts wielding katanas and spears already soaked in blood poured in around them, eager grins on their faces at having finally cornered their prey. They charged in towards Takeo’s lines, and the sounds of battle rang out. Swords clanged, men screamed, and victors howled. In the clamor of it all, if one listened carefully, they could even pick out the sounds of dead bodies thumping to the ground. Takeo’s forces held strong, not that they had any other option. Those at the frontlines never took their eyes off their opponents, but everyone else was looking to Takeo. As for the ronin, he glanced back and forth between the two directions from which the Nguyen armies had not yet come.
I know they’ll try. Their commander is clearly a cunning soul. Which side will swing first?
And then he saw it, a flash of green and shine of metal encroaching on their southern flank.
“There!” Takeo yelled at the top of his lungs and pointed opposite, north. “That way, run, move! Kuniko, lead the way.”
Takeo leapt from Krunk’s shoulders and dashed to what would soon be their rear guard. The army needed no second command. They shifted as a mass of steel and blood and drew away from the Nguyen forces. The enemy pursued, but could not press them now. Their army was constantly creating space. Takeo moved with them, stepping back carefully to avoid tripping. He held his sword straight and ready. He didn’t have to wait long.
The Nguyen forces, attempting to encircle them, came screaming at Takeo and those men and women with whom he stood. They saw the group trying to leave and so pressed their luck with a mad dash. Takeo wasted no time in cutting down any that dared come within his reach. Parry, dodge, slash, and a body hit the ground, and Takeo stepped away from it to move with his army. The fallen foe was left behind to trip their pursuers.
The enemy came in waves, a mass of bodies crashing against a stone wall and a flurry of blows felling men like weeds on both sides.
Those beside Takeo fared better, as did those who stood shoulder-to-waist with Krunk. The ogre had taken up position somewhere along Takeo’s left, swinging his meat cleaver in that favorite manner of his that wiped an area clean and made mortals question their sanity. Those Nguyens who hesitated were sometimes pushed by the throng of their own men and fell into Krunk’s swing unprepared. His might was ferocious, and his sword cleaved men in two. Those who dodged went down to the few samurai standing next to the ogre.
They marched, almost at a walking pace, and Takeo wasn’t sure how long this could go on. If the enemy commander were smart, and he or she most clearly was, they’d send troops sprinting ahead to cut off Takeo’s retreat, but such a thing would take time, and that was what Takeo was counting on. The light was fading, and darkness crept in. If they could hold out until then, the enemy numbers wouldn’t count for so much. They could slip away, not unharassed, maybe, but at least there was that chance.
As dusk fell, the Nguyen forces didn’t pursue so strongly. People tripped over unseen roots or slipped on moss-covered ground. Tree branches and leaves blocked sight further, and the Nguyens stopped to strike up torches. They held them in the second row, so the light wouldn’t ruin the night vision of their frontlines, yet would ruin that of Takeo’s rear guard. Surely, if Takeo had meant to fight, it would have been a great plan. Instead, he gave the order to run.
Their army bolted, slipping off into the coming darkness as the Nguyen forces fell behind. The enemy kept trying to encircle Takeo’s group as evidenced by the light of torches all along their sides. None could run at a full sprint as the sun slipped away, but Takeo’s side had fear and necessity on their side. They left the Nguyen forces behind, right up until Takeo’s men suddenly came to a stop.
“Keep running,” Takeo commanded. “We go through the night.”
He pushed his way through his soldiers until he saw why they’d stopped.
They’d run right up against a mountain, literally, with its smooth, vertical face blocking their exit. In the fading light beneath the grove of trees, none of them had noticed, and no one knew these lands well enough to lead them away. In the distance, the Nguyen torches had stopped advancing but surrounded them on all sides.
It seemed Qadir had been one step ahead all along.
Chapter 10
“So much for the infamous ronin,” Qing muttered as she stood next to Takeo and gazed up at the sheer wall of stone.
“My lord, why are they stopping?” Kuniko asked, gazing out in the opposite direction.
The surrounding trees had not thinned at the mountain’s base, yet through the darkness and leaves, they could all see the line of enemy torches in the distance. The Nguyen army had surrounded them in a half circle, stopping a good distance away, enough so they couldn’t be clearly seen.
Takeo sighed.
“Their commander doesn’t want to risk a night attack,” he said. “They’re setting up a perimeter around us. Smart thinking. It’s hard to coordinate an attack at night when no one can see, even with torches. We could fake our numbers on one end and break through at another, and they wouldn’t know until it was too late. Too much can go wrong for them and right for us in the dark, which is exactly what I’d been hoping for. They’ll wait until morning and then slaughter us.”
“But you’ve got a plan, right?” Kuniko replied. “You always have a plan.”
Takeo’s mind raced. The eyes of his soldiers bore down on him. Their group was silent, minus the deep gasps for air, yet in the distance, they heard the shouts of the enemy barking orders and setting up camp. More torches were lit, bathing their surroundings in orange, flickering light.
The stars peered down on them in silent sorrow, and the mountain laughed at their pitiful existence.
“This is why a commander doesn’t do the dirty work,” Qing said. “If only you were smart enough to know that and not so bloodthirsty, the Hanu army might still stand a chance.”
“Watch your tongue,” Kuniko spat back. “You will not speak to my lord that way.”
Qing laughed.
“I’ll do whatever I want. We’re about to die, and he’s no lord. He’s an intelligent golem, summoned only to fulfill a specific task. Well, he was supposed to be intelligent. It seems he’s a dumb block of clay, just like the stories say.”
Kuniko drew her sword, which she only got out halfway before Qing drew her own blade, and the whole camp stepped back, except for Takeo. He didn’t even glance at them.
“Stand down,” he said. “Neither of you are helping.”
Kuniko swallowed and hesitated, but did as she was told, sheathing her sword. Qing waited until the samurai’s hand left her blade before sheathing her own. The ninja darted a shrewd glance at Takeo as if he were personally responsible.
Takeo didn’t blame her. In a way, he was responsible, but that didn’t make him wrong. Of course, neither was Qing.
She’s right. I’ve been played for a fool. I thought I could try and see through a rakshasa’s trap, but I assumed too little. I didn’t consider every option, and now we’re trapped, alone and outnumbered. What an idiot. I don’t have my sword; I should stop acting like I do.
“Sir!” a voice called out. “Takeo!”
A young man came from the fringes of their army and bowed. Takeo gave a nod.
“Sir, the enemy commander asked to speak with our leader,” he said. “We think that’s what he’s shouting, anyway.”
“Who is he?” Takeo asked. “Did he give a name?”
“Yes, my lord. He said,” the man replied but then paused. “That’s strange. He just told me, I swear, but I can’t recall. He even had me repeat it, I know. This is strange, my lord. I can’t seem to remember. I, I—”
Takeo’s pulse rose, and his eyes went wide.
“Where is he?” he demanded. “Did he come from your direction?”
“Yes, lord, I believe.”
Takeo charged off, and Qing followed at his heels. She looked at him expectantly as if waiting for him to command her to stay put, but he didn’t. He was getting tired of fighting her on everything, and besides, this time around, he wanted someone at his side. The man he was going to face was a treacherous rogue.
“How do you know who it is?” Qing whispered as they broke away from their army. “That boy didn’t even give you a description.”
“Precisely,” Takeo replied.
Halfway between the armies, a lone man stood with a single torch rammed into the ground at his back. He looked nothing but a silhouette, somewhat short with small ears and a wiry figure. He slouched, as if military bearing were beneath him, and started to chuckle as Takeo stepped into the light.
“Wow,” the man said. “Now, isn’t this something. Takeo Karaoshi, as I live and breathe.”
“Aiguo Mein,” Takeo answered. “It’s been too long.”
“Well, this is just wonderful.” Aiguo chuckled in that dull, forgettable tone of his. “Qadir knew you’d send reinforcements, but never did we think you’d send yourself. My lord is going to be quite pleased.”
