Takeo's Chronicles, page 117
“I’m sorry,” Emy whispered. “I shouldn’t have said that. I know you didn’t do the deed yourself. I didn’t press to find that out, by the way. Krunk is a fountain of words these days, prone to blathering out whatever is on his mind, regardless of the company. I’ve been trying to keep him secluded from the common soldiers as best as I can lest he spill our secrets. I think you understand the gravity of that. I mean, really, I didn’t even know what angels were until he started talking about them.”
Takeo didn’t have a reply. He only half listened as he drowned in regret. Of all the times he’d wished the angels had lived, he’d never wished as hard as in this moment. He could have used their guidance. It was too bad only one lived, hidden away in the cavernous seclusion of the Khaz Mal Mountains.
“Takeo,” Emy went on. “I don’t know how to approach you with this, so I’m just going to be straightforward. I want to help.”
“Help?” he echoed, shaking his head. He rose from his bed to find his clothes. “Help how?”
“In every way I can,” she pleaded. “Please, you know how useful I can be. I can hear, smell, see, in ways no one else can. I can fight, better than most, and I could be your most valuable asset with some training. I’ve been perfecting my disguises, testing my limits, mostly out of curiosity, but I could do so out of necessity just as easily. You’re a smart man, Takeo, perhaps the only one. Just think of the potential.”
Takeo found his kimono and slipped it on. It was still damp and had a moldy smell to it. However, it was still fresher than most of his gear, which had been spared the rain and so was caked in dried dirt. He tossed the kimono on and hoped the morning sun would dry it out. He exited the tent with every intention of ignoring Emy, who still looked very much like Kuniko, but she caught him by the arm before he’d gone a single step.
He stopped dead in his tracks, half because he couldn’t believe she’d dare do that, half because her grip was firm. His pulse rose, and he swiveled his head about to stare at her. His eyes fell to her hand and then rose to her face. The look he gave made her hesitate. She swallowed but didn’t let go.
“It’s time we had an honest conversation,” Emy whispered.
Takeo’s eyes flicked to her hand again. She released him.
“You want an honest conversation?” he said, feet planted. “Fine. I’m at the end of my rope here anyway. I’m surrounded by enemies, our armies are in retreat, and those who I’m supposed to trust are either abandoning or turning on me. My sword is lost, along with my most treasured memories. I suppose it doesn’t matter if you defect to the Nguyens anyway, as in the end, your fate would be the same as Qadir’s. Either you’ll stand victorious over my corpse, or I will over yours. Fine then, let’s have at it. You want the truth? I’ll give it to you. I’m not here to protect you. The only reason I keep you close is because, one day, I might have to kill you.”
“I know.”
Takeo blinked. Emy sighed.
“No one told me,” she followed up. “I put it together myself. I always sensed you’d kill me if you had the chance, which is why I was so afraid of you for so long. However, I started to realize that you’d only do that if I left your side, and so I stopped being afraid.”
“What? Why?”
“Because, Takeo”—she leaned in— “I’m not going anywhere.”
He balked. Try as he might, he couldn’t stop the next words from tumbling out.
“You’re not?”
“No,” Emy pleaded. “By the angels, Takeo, no! You’re smarter than this. Why would I go anywhere? Where would I go? To Qadir? Someone I don’t even know, to what? Have children with him? How stupid is that? I don’t even know him, other than that he’s crippled and weak. And what do I want children for? What’s so special about them? And how do I know what my life would be like under the Nguyens? Would they lock me up? Cripple me so I couldn’t run away? And if not to the Nguyens, where else would I go, huh? I can’t go to Savara where my kind is being hunted into extinction. I don’t really want to go anywhere else, where I don’t know anyone or anything. What could possibly be out there more important than this? I’ll live for hundreds of years, they say. Why should I be in a hurry to rush off? I only have so many more years to spend with the only people I’ve ever known, people who sheltered me in Savara when they could have cut off my head for bounty. It’s not just Krunk I care about, Takeo. It’s Gavin and Yeira, and their baby, and even Nicholas and you. Yes, you. I should hate you for all the prejudice and hypocrisy you show me, but I struggle. I look at you, and I just see a broken soul, hurt too many times to be mended. Takeo, I can help. Please, please let me.”
Her words were soft and begging, and were she Gavin, Takeo would expect her to reach out for him. However, she wasn’t even human, and so her arms stayed at her sides.
Like his.
“I . . . I find that hard to believe,” he said, yet his mind and heart were bending all the same. “Rakshasas don’t have the capacity to care about humans.”
“Well maybe I’m as good at being a rakshasa as you are at being a samurai.”
Takeo stiffened. The comparison struck him at the root of his being. He’d been a true samurai once, loyal to his lord, fanatic in his duty to his every word. Then he’d been broken, and he was a samurai in name only. He questioned commands. He switched allegiance as it suited him. He was a ronin and wore the title proudly, despite all the animosity that earned him. He was a terrible samurai. In fact, he was a terrible ronin, too.
Ronin were supposed to be cowardly. He wasn’t. Ronin were supposed to be exiled. He defied the odds. He was judged by royalty on nothing but his name, and he took advantage of that because they were narrow-minded and short-sighted. They couldn’t see past their own hatred. They were blind to his abilities, his usefulness, and his purpose. If only they accepted him, he might solve all their problems.
If only.
I’ve been wrong. This whole time, I’ve been wrong. What was that Emily had said about Krunk? She judged him wrongly before she ever gave him a chance.
“But how can I trust you?” he whispered, the words slipping out, addressed more to himself than to her.
Emy sighed and answered anyway. “Takeo, after all I’ve done, how can you not? How many more times must I prove myself to you? Once more, I hope, because I have something to tell you.”
“What?” he asked.
The breeze kicked up, and Emy sniffed it. She leaned in, and Takeo didn’t pull away. He could tell she was listening for eavesdroppers, but she must have heard nothing because she whispered none too softly.
“It’s the smell that gives it away,” she said. “Every time she passes, I sense it, even after the rains. I didn’t figure it out at first because everyone has a unique scent, but hers is different, entirely different. And the way she moves and speaks and acts. I’ve got it now. I know her secret.”
“Who?”
“Qing, the ninja. She isn’t human.”
* * *
Takeo never did find out what meeting he had missed. He and Emy stayed in the tent until marching orders for the army came down the line, still in the early morning. Lord Yoshida issued the commands, as promised. They were to follow the original plan, following the road between the river and the mountain, aiming for favorable ground with which to force a battle or make a retreat.
As for Takeo and Emy, they never stopped talking, not even when Kuniko returned.
When the call came, Emy heard and smelt Kuniko coming and so transformed into Gavin before she came. Kuniko brought company, too: Ping and two new faces. The group of four called Takeo “lord,” went to their knees before him, and offered to strike his tent, pack up his things, bring breakfast, and fetch his komainu for the journey, as he clearly still needed rest. Takeo thought they’d brought three too many for such meager tasks, but he was too distracted to bother with logistics. He agreed and stepped off to the side with Emy, their conversations low and absorbing. They continued talking while marching, too, and Takeo found himself traveling side-by-side with Gavin once again, if in appearance only.
“You say she’s not a rakshasa,” Takeo whispered, “but how would you know? You’ve never met another.”
His volume, which was nothing more than a step above mute, was quickly lost to the overwhelming clamor of the army marching in step all around him. Swords banged at hips, armor creaked, men shouted, and footsteps fell like thunder, yet Emy heard him clear as day.
“I’m not sure I can explain it,” Emy replied, shouting up from the ground. “I just have this feeling: no familiarity. She’s something else.”
Takeo nodded, the movement exaggerated as he rolled back and forth atop his komainu.
The army was slower than the beast’s preference. As it sauntered along, its shoulder blades rose and fell in exaggerated movements, swinging Takeo from side to side. He would have rather walked, but as he and Emy continued to talk, he felt the need to conserve his strength.
“And you’re certain we’re walking into another trap, then?” Takeo replied, the words barely leaving the safety of his lips. “You think Qadir has really thought this far ahead? I find that difficult to believe. How could he predict this many moves?”
Emy didn’t reply, and Takeo looked down to her. She peered back and frowned, then nodded at all the soldiers marching with them.
Ah, too complicated to reply in generalities. My mistake. I must break up the question.
“How exactly does a rakshasa think? Where does the plotting stop?” he tried again.
Emy was assuredly trashing Gavin’s reputation as she shouted randomly. In truth, it wasn’t imperative that she be disguised anymore. Everyone knew by now that Takeo had a rakshasa in his company, or at least had heard the rumors. However, Takeo and Emy both agreed that it was best to keep her whereabouts shrouded. There was no need to make things easy on the ninjas. Yet Takeo wondered if it was wise to have her so disguised, being as the real Gavin was liable to show up at any moment.
No, he won’t. Not after last night.
“The way I see it, the best hunters attack in threes,” Emy said, talking with such ambiguity that one couldn’t be sure whom she was replying to. “Take a komainu for example: two paws, one mouth. That final third is the deadliest. They use their paws to line up their kill and then decapitate their foes with a swift bite. Always in threes.”
A random soldier happened to take a liking to what she was saying and nodded vigorously. Emy flashed him one of Gavin’s charming smiles, which was a remarkable impersonation. Takeo almost bought it.
“We only escaped the first trap, then,” Takeo whispered. “Plans within plans within plans, and I can only imagine what Qadir has in store for us next. Our only chance is to catch him by surprise, like I did in that cave, but how can I do that with an army? There’s no hiding here, and we’re already on the run. We need something he won’t expect. Something no one would expect, not even me.”
Hours prior to this, throughout that early morning, Takeo had broken a number of promises concerning Emy. He had numerous excuses for this, including the fact that he no longer had Gavin at his side to rely upon and the fact that he was at his wit’s end with enemies all around. They were lies, though. He spilled secrets to her because, true to legend, Emy was brilliant.
Before the tent was packed, he had asked, “What else have you been holding back?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking on this one for a while,” she had replied. “Remember those ninjas we faced in the forest? The number of arrows they shot didn’t match up. They were firing twice as many arrows as they had people. I didn’t know humans were capable of such things.”
Takeo’s eyes had gone wide.
He’d remembered that moment, how he’d clearly seen at least one ninja using that secret elven technique. It amazed Takeo that Emy’s hearing was so precise she could tell the difference. Emily had taught those ninjas well, and they had passed on those skills. It seemed to have taken them years, and they had nothing close to her accuracy, but Emily had taught them as payment for his life, and now they’d turned it against him. They’d pay for that.
“How many were there?” he’d asked. “Is your sense of smell that good?”
“No, not by itself,” she’d said, “but combined with my hearing and sight, I can make a good guess. I’d say there were thirty of them, at least.”
So they’d come with the intention to run. They’d only wanted it to appear like they had strong numbers. Illusion and subterfuge, how ninja-like of them.
After Takeo realized just what Emy could do, the flood gates were opened.
“The prince,” Takeo had asked. “He seems uneasy around the oni. What is it? Apprehension? Fear?”
“Fear, beyond a doubt,” she’d answered, eagerly. “It’s the same smell I get from prey just before I catch them. The oni, too, look at the prince like he’s prey.”
Well now, that is interesting. And here I thought the oni were protecting the prince. Aren’t they, though? I’m missing something big here, but at least now I know the oni are wrapped up in whatever is going on between Nobu, his mother, and his grandmother. That means Borota’s attempt on my life was over this feud. He said I threatened what they stood to gain. By “they,” he must have meant oni-kind. I’m certain now. I’ve been caught up in this for a while, it seems. If only I could unravel the web.
Before the army had begun its march, Takeo had realized this might be the only few moments he’d get alone with her for the day. He’d hesitated, teetering on the brink of a slope so deep and slippery that he couldn’t see the bottom, and in a way, knowing it didn’t matter. He couldn’t stay on top, not alone, like he was now. He took the plunge and laid out many secrets to her, and she rewarded him with pure insight, unclouded by moral judgment.
“Emy, what do you think of Lord Virote? Do you think he’s the one with a knife at my back? Or is he against Lady Zhenzhen?”
“Against you, maybe. Lady Zhenzhen? Doubtful. He’s already the shogun’s right hand and has no children to usurp the throne. What benefit would he gain by risking everything to kill her? Also, on that note, I see no point to killing you when you’re already doing his bidding.”
Damn it, of course. Why didn’t I think of that?
“I noted you put the attempts on my life and Zhenzhen’s in different categories. How certain are you that we have separate traitors?”
“Well, to be clear, Uncle, whoever went after you might not think of themselves as a traitor, but I’m certain he or she is in the Hanu ranks.”
“And why is that? There are many people who want me dead. Just because someone is out to get me from within doesn’t mean this particular attack didn’t come from without.”
“No, it was too private. Qadir wants you to die a humiliating defeat after what you did to him. A quick knife to the back won’t be good enough. Also, as you said, your assassin can’t be anyone else, like Lord Botan. He needs you to weaken the Nguyens. These assassination attempts, from the ninjas to that fight at the tent, come solely from within the Hanu ranks.”
“You keep referring to this person as if they are a singular entity, rather than a group or a family clan.”
“It’s the only explanation.”
“Really? One person came so close to taking down Lady Zhenzhen? How so?”
“Whoever tried to assassinate the shogun did so over a year ago and has yet to be uncovered, and they haven’t tried it again, or at least not that we know of. As Virote said, that attack could only come from within. That’s a long time for a group of people to stay both dormant and undiscovered. Such a secret should be impossible to keep unless only one person knows the truth.”
Amazing, Takeo had thought. She’s only been alive for a short time, and yet she’s already dissected human behavior down to a predictable pattern. She understands complex power struggles with no formal training or education beyond eavesdropping on conversations. What power that sort of mind holds . . . what terrible power.
“So then, if that’s the case,” he’d said. “What do you think about the attempt on my life? What about the rumor that whoever is after me is someone close to me? How can someone be both close to me and Lady Zhenzhen at the same time?”
“Once again, Uncle, perhaps they are different people. Remember, the attempts on your life are recent. However, I wouldn’t rule out that these two are working together. In fact, I’d be counting on it.”
The conversation had ended there, but the topic lived on in Takeo’s mind. In fact, he thought of little else while they traveled, his mind swaying back and forth with his movements on the komainu’s back. The idea that Emy had put forth, that Zhenzhen’s would-be killer had turned one of those close to Takeo, intrigued him to no end. He’d thought about that once before, but only in passing with hundreds of other possibilities swirling around in his mind at the same time. However, with Emy’s insight, he focused down on it, and suddenly no other option seemed plausible.
Although Takeo could think of plenty of people who would benefit from Lady Zhenzhen’s death, he could only think of one person in his inner circle who wanted him dead and needed to work alone.
In all honesty, he shouldn’t have been surprised. She’d warned him. She’d told him in plain, simple words that she was coming for him. Yet he’d ignored her warning because he didn’t think she could carry through with it. After all, what could one foreigner in Juatwa do to a man like him? She had no friends, no contacts, and no allies. No power that didn’t stem directly from him. She shouldn’t have been a threat, and yet she was the only possibility.
Now, in the hot afternoon sun, Takeo reached down and tapped Emy’s shoulder. She looked up at him, and he jerked his head upwards. The rakshasa took his hand, and he pulled her into the saddle.
“Emy, you’ve been stalking all of us for some time, right?”
