Takeo's Chronicles, page 113
They leapt up from their game and stood at attention.
“Where is our lord? I need to speak with him immediately.”
They exchanged looks, seemingly unaware and, upon realizing this, embarrassed.
Takeo snarled.
In a proper army, information flowed like water. The man or woman at the top of the chain of command should be easily accessible as information was paramount to success. The fact that some of Lord Nobu’s personal guards were clueless about his location struck Takeo with a sense of dread on par with a knife at his throat.
At his side, Qing seethed.
“Fools,” the ninja said. “Don’t just stand there. Find him!”
The soldiers scattered. Takeo shook his head.
“Any moment now, we could be attacked. I don’t know where Lord Nobu or his generals are, what our current defenses look like, or how Lord Pircha’s position is set up. This would be comical were it not destined for tragedy.”
“We wouldn’t be in this situation if you’d have stayed,” Qing muttered.
“No, we’d be worse off,” he replied. “We wouldn’t even know a tragedy was coming.”
“Takeo!” came a familiar shout from the distance.
The duo turned to see Gavin and Yeira scampering towards them. Takeo dashed to meet them.
“I heard you were back,” the knight called out. “People are saying you fought a battle out there and lost.”
“People are right,” Takeo said.
Gavin swore and glanced at Yeira. She didn’t say anything, but the look on her face was grave. She refused to look Takeo in the eye. They had a common enemy at their gates, and none of them doubted Takeo’s ability to face an enemy down, not even Yeira.
“How bad is it?” the knight asked.
“We’ll all be dead soon if I don’t find Lord Nobu,” Takeo replied.
Gavin hung his head.
“I wish I was surprised,” he said. “Damn, that’s got to be a sign or something.”
“Where’s the prince?” Qing barked.
“He went off with his generals,” Yeira cut in, flicking a thumb over her shoulder to the north. “Lord Pircha has arrived, so they’re going to do those preliminary talks you people are so fond of.”
This time it was Takeo who swore, and then he stormed off. The others followed.
“Takeo, what happened?” Gavin asked. “What do you need done?”
“The attacks on our supply lines were a ruse to hide a flanking army,” he answered. “We’re about to be overrun. Spread the word to pack up. We’re leaving. Say it’s on my orders. If you find people who won’t obey, lie and say it’s Nobu’s command. I’ll make it true soon enough.”
“And if you can’t?” Yeira asked.
“Then it won’t matter anyway. We’ll be dead.”
Takeo made for the komainu stables and, once there, wasted no time explaining himself to the trainer. He grabbed a mount that was already saddled and spurred the beast into a dead run straight through the camp. It was a reckless thing to do as the pace set by the massive creature was nothing short of breathtaking, and samurai and servants alike screamed and dove out of the way as Takeo tore down the narrow alleyways between tents. There would be panic and rumors that a komainu had broken free, but that was trivial. Takeo didn’t slow the beast, not even as he reached the camp’s edge where countless workers were busy fortifying with dirt walls, shallow trenches, and sharpened stakes to blunt an enemy’s charge.
In the distance, Takeo spied a sea of green on the other side of a vast clearing. The green was a blend of a dense treeline and the outer edge of the Nguyen army’s uniforms. Between the two was a small outcropping of komainu mounted by humans and one individual who was orange with black stripes.
Takeo clenched his teeth and spurred his mount once more. The komainu’s claws flung dirt clods the size of heads.
He burst into the center of the group and reared his mount to a sudden stop, the beast standing so tall as to blot out the sun from those nearby. The group balked and pulled away, or rather their mounts did as they snarled and crouched at another creature appearing so suddenly. Takeo’s mount roared and snarled in reply, its bloodlust ramping up from the fierce run, its hair on end, just begging for something to kill. Takeo jerked the reins to bring it under swift control but saved his gaze for the one creature that mattered.
Out of all of them, Qadir looked most relaxed. His pointed ears twitched with nothing more than mild interest, and his tail swished in lazy patterns through the Juatwa breeze. The rakshasa was well dressed, apparently having a kimono custom made for his grand size, and he didn’t appear to be a novice atop a komainu’s back. If one weren’t careful, they might miss the severed limbs. If one weren’t highly perceptive, they might miss that the rakshasa was actually the most on edge out of all of them.
Qadir’s hunter eyes were partially dilated, just ever too much for the bright light of the afternoon. His whiskers appeared to flutter in the wind, but only because his cheeks were chattering. On occasion, the white flash of a long canine slipped between his lips, and the one hand that held the komainu’s reins tightened with neck-crushing strength. His gaze narrowed in Takeo’s direction, and any man could be forgiven if his legs weakened under such ire.
Takeo, however, stared right back.
The others in the group stared between them. Beside the rakshasa sat a portly man with his chin raised just a tad too high for comfort and, beside him, two lackeys. Behind Takeo was Prince Nobu, mouth agape and eyes blinking, though seemingly more perplexed than offended. This look was not shared by the two standing to either side of him, an older man and a woman who gave Takeo murderous glances not unlike the rakshasa’s, though far less threatening.
“My lord,” Takeo said, never breaking eye-contact with the rakshasa. “I apologize for my interruption, but your presence is needed back at camp, immediately.”
“Karaoshi,” one of Nobu’s generals replied first, his tone sharp and commanding, though it had no such effect. “What is the meaning of this? What are you doing here?”
“My duty,” the ronin answered.
Lord Pircha grinned from across the way. “Well, well, well. Fancy that. Who’d have thought my mother’s killer would have such a rebellious streak? It seems he’s not much use besides killing off decrepit hags who should have died ages ago. You sully yourself, Nobu, by associating with such men—no, such beasts. If you ask nicely, I will gladly take him off your hands and give him a proper execution. You see, this is why your mother isn’t fit to rule. Look where she places her trust. For the last time, surrender now, and I promise no harm will come to you.”
Lord Pircha was careful to look past Takeo as if the ronin and his massive mount did not exist. Most would expect the fat man to show a bit more emotion, given Takeo’s last action amongst the Nguyen family, but Pircha wasn’t one to let a good tragedy go to waste. Were he not too proud, he’d have thanked the ronin personally. Yet Takeo took no offense. It was one of Pircha’s greatest flaws, that propensity and willingness to turn a blind eye. Takeo looked forward to exploiting it.
“If there is any fool among us, it’s you, Lord Pircha,” the general beside Nobu continued, also looking past Takeo. “You are outnumbered and outmatched and far from the safety of your mountain keep. Not even your brutish ally here can save you this time.”
“Save me? Ha!” Pircha made a show of touching his chest with chubby fingers. “I’ll remember those words when I’m deciding your ransom price, Lord Yoshida. I look forward to adding your name to the list of men I’ve crushed under my heel. The ballad of my triumphs grows every day, while yours ended long ago.”
“My lord,” Yoshida said, turning to Nobu. “We waste our time talking to this pompous idiot. Let’s select a time for proper battle and be on our way.”
Yet Lord Nobu did not hear. His attention was absorbed in the two individuals whom the others were trying their hardest to ignore. Takeo and Qadir had yet to look away from each other, and the idle banter between the two older men might as well have been the yawns of children for all the weight it carried. After several heartbeats, the lords followed Nobu’s gaze, and they could no longer fool themselves into thinking the status quo hadn’t changed.
“So,” Qadir spoke softly, left cheek twitching. “You found him.”
“Clever trap,” Takeo admitted. “But then again, I expected no less.”
The two generals beside Nobu perked up.
“Trap?” Lord Pircha repeated and then squinted sidelong at Qadir.
The rakshasa’s tail flicked in the wind, and Takeo raised an eyebrow.
So that’s how he does it, Takeo thought. He hides his plans even from Pircha so the fat fool won’t slip up and tell our informants. Qadir is already treating Pircha as a liability, and it seems the shogun has no idea. He might figure it out now, though, the poor soul. It won’t be long before Qadir disposes of him.
“I see the rumors are true,” Qadir said, shifting the topic with a nod to Takeo’s hip. “You have lost your enchanted sword. What an unfortunate thing.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Takeo replied. “Mostly for you, though. When I cut your head off, I’ll have to do it with a normal rusty blade. I apologize in advance for the pain this will cause. It will not be over quickly.”
Qadir’s left lip curled up, exposing a white canine and pink gums. “I hope you taste as bold as you speak. Do me a favor and don’t soil yourself when you die. It can ruin the meat.”
“Likewise,” Takeo answered and then broke their gaze to look at Nobu.
The young lord stared with mouth agape, and he was a shade pale as he met the ronin’s eyes. The two generals were silent for once, and they drew back from Takeo as if he were cursed with a plague.
Takeo ignored them as he nudged his mount alongside Nobu’s and grabbed the reins.
“As I said, my lord,” Takeo repeated. “You’re needed at camp. This meeting is over.”
He gave the reins a tug, and the beast followed. Nobu did not protest or make any sort of gesture other than to look at the ground in embarrassment. Takeo heard Lord Pircha scoff at the rudeness as they departed, for even the two Hanu generals were following now. The rakshasa issued a soft growl, and Takeo resisted the urge to pick up his pace. As they departed, Lord Pircha made a show of leaving in a hurry, not wanting it to appear that it was him who was left standing in the middle of nowhere.
“What in the world are you thinking?” Lord Yoshida said once he thought they were out of earshot. “Why would you provoke that beast? And to lead our prince away without exchanging proper pleasantries with Lord Pircha? The rudeness of the act will not play to our favor. Your lowly upbringing is showing, Karaoshi, and I’ve about had it with you. Lady Zhenzhen will not be pleased to hear of this.”
Takeo waited until they traveled a bit further from Qadir’s ears before answering.
“Two things,” Takeo said, just above a whisper for good measure. “First, I wasn’t provoking the rakshasa. Quite the opposite, my actions gave him pause. If you act like prey, you’ll be treated like prey. That’s how their kind thinks. If I’d shown a drop of fear, he’d have advised Lord Pircha to assault immediately.”
“And what’s the problem with that? We’ve set our defenses up.”
“On one side, yes, but that’s not where death is coming from. A detachment of the Nguyen army is approaching us from the south. That’s who I ran into and barely escaped. We are outnumbered, not the other way around, and we’re outflanked, and our retreat is cut off. If Lord Pircha were to attack now, we might not get a chance to flee, let alone counter, and we would die for sure. Qadir will be weighing this in his mind, too. Our time is limited, with or without my taunting.”
Lord Yoshida gaped. As pompous and self-righteous as royalty could be, not all of them were fools. Some were survivalists. Takeo’s report set the two generals on edge. He even got to watch the slow, dim light of realization dawn on Lord Yoshida’s face as he realized just what sort of tactician they were up against.
“The assault on our supply lines was a ruse,” the lord said, “large enough for us to believe it an honest effort, to distract us, yet small enough for us to safely ignore, or so we thought. Damn, that is clever. I expected something more complex from a rakshasa, but it seems their kind favor brutal efficiency.”
“A rakshasa’s favorite attack is to rip out their enemy’s throat in one clean strike,” Takeo replied.
Beside him, Nobu gulped. Lord Yoshida sighed.
“Are you certain of this, Karaoshi?” he asked.
“I do many things counter to conventional thinking, lord,” Takeo replied, “but fighting a losing battle isn’t one of them.”
The daimyo blinked and cast his eyes down to his mount. He seemed to be in the throes of a tiny existential crisis. As he shook his head back and forth, Takeo studied him. Yoshida was tall, but with a solid gut, and he grew out a short goatee that was greying at the ends. His eyebrows were a tad too long for his forehead, but the man commanded enough respect that few mentioned it behind his back. Takeo didn’t know much else, other than that the Lord had been considered a hero back in the time of Lord Jiro Hanu’s father but had retired from the battlefield since. He was somehow more attached to Lord Virote than any other head of the Hanu clan, and he’d only returned to the killing fields after Qadir had made a mockery of Zhenzhen’s other generals.
“Takeo Karaoshi,” Lord Yoshida said, lifting his head to squint one eye at the ronin, “I think I misjudged you. Rude and unconventional you may be, but I believe I let that blind me to your resourcefulness.”
Takeo balked. Lord Yoshida gave him a swift nod and sat up straight in his saddle.
“I suppose there’s nothing else to do, then,” the lord continued. “Full retreat west, you suppose? Over the mountain?”
“That would be my advice, yes, lord,” Takeo replied, still stunned.
The old man nodded and then looked to the woman. “Lady Xie, if you’ll accompany me. Time is of the essence.”
He spurred his mount, and after a brief huff of surprise and a glance of disdain at Takeo, the woman took off, as well. Takeo blinked in disbelief at the tiny scraps of respect that had been tossed his way.
That was until Lord Nobu began to cry.
The young lord started slowly, sniffing, which could have been caused by the pollen in the wind, but then he whimpered, and that broke Takeo’s fixation on the fading old man. Nobu looked away and tried to stifle the coming storm by sucking in a deep breath, but it broke ragged, and tears came to his eyes. The more he tried and failed to stop the tears from coming, the worse it got, and the lord started blubbering.
Takeo’s heart sank to his stomach and there fell into a well of pity without a drop of sympathy to be found. He slowed their mounts to a crawl and glanced up at the camp ahead, gauging how much time they had until someone saw them.
“My lord, please stop,” the ronin whispered. “We’ll be back at the camp soon. You can’t let your soldiers see you cry. Please, you must stop.”
That didn’t help.
Lord Nobu’s sobbing increased to inconsolable levels, and he cried out. His hands went to his eyes, and he wiped the tears furiously, but still they came. He whimpered and sniffed, and Takeo grimaced and slowed further. The komainu protested with a whine.
Takeo seethed.
How can this boy be crying? No one has died yet. Why am I risking my life to put this wimp on the throne of the world? He wouldn’t last a day without his mother.
“I’m useless!” Lord Nobu shouted out. He wiped tears from his eyes and sucked in air. “It’s like I don’t exist! And when I do, I’m just a burden. Everyone hates me, and they’re right. I should just kill myself.”
Takeo went rigid in his saddle, and a flash of panic whipped through his body. Nobu paid him no mind, though, and just collapsed, burying his face into the massive, furry shoulder blades of his komainu. What followed next might have been the most painful seconds of silence Takeo had ever endured. A grown boy, as old as Takeo had been when he’d lost his older brother, sitting atop an army of terrible size and power, was reduced to tears over something as meaningless as feelings. Meanwhile, Takeo, a man now with many years of battle and loss under his belt, sat beside him, feeling just as helpless and useless as Nobu claimed to be.
Takeo stammered and cringed and hoped against hope that Gavin would appear out of thin air and solve this whole thing. It didn’t help that Takeo partially agreed with the boy, as brutal as that was, but that line of thinking wouldn’t solve anything. They were getting closer to the camp, and at any moment now, Nobu might be seen in this vulnerable state. Worse, if Nobu was telling the truth and actually committed suicide, well, the damage that could do to the army’s morale was too much to consider. They were already retreating, which would bring the soldiers’ spirits low enough.
Like as not, Takeo would have to say something, and soon. He tried to imagine what Gavin would say.
“My lord, you’re not useless,” Takeo lied. “You are, just, how do I say this? Terribly inexperienced.”
Nobu’s sobs lessened, if only to hear the ronin better. He tilted his face, the light of hope shining in his eyes. Takeo fought back a grimace at such naivety.
“For someone in your position,” Takeo went on, searching for words, “you’re doing everything you should. You’re listening to your advisors, perhaps too much, but at least you listen, and that’s more than I can say for others. You, uh, you should be proud of that.”
“But I’m still useless, aren’t I?” Nobu asked. “You weren’t there for the whole thing, but I didn’t say a word back there. The way that beast looked at me, it was terrifying. I don’t know how you kept eye contact. He wanted to eat me, us. I could tell. My stomach flipped in circles, and it was all I could do not to piss myself. I was so scared I couldn’t think. I just . . . I was—I’m a coward.”
And then the sobbing came again, and Takeo lost his patience. They would be upon the camp in moments, so Gavin’s way be damned. Lady Ki would get her wish. Takeo reached over and slapped the back of Nobu’s head as hard as he could.
