Takeo's Chronicles, page 147
Or at least, all that Botan thought he would need.
At the last second before they closed, the two komainu roared, the lord raised his sword, and Takeo vaulted to the left. The ronin dropped his sword, yanked on the reins and sprung from the saddle, ramming his feet into his mount’s head, sending the beast just one-half pace to the right.
They collided at break-neck speed.
Botan’s komainu had gone low for the throat, and instead received an elongated tooth to the eye, which ripped free as the two masses of flesh rammed into each other. One or both komainu’s necks snapped, rolling into each other and then compressing with their weight. Blood gushed from an eye, a tooth, and then the inevitable collision painted the entire scene red before anything else happened. Their bodies whipped over and around, snapping more bones and rag-dolling the beasts. Lord Botan made a feeble swing with the Karaoshi blade before being flung from his saddle, and then he was struck in the upper half of his body by Takeo’s komainu, back flipping him a half dozen times before he slammed violently into the ground. Half of this, Takeo didn’t catch at all, as he, too, spiraled into the air, head bouncing off Botan’s komainu’s backside, while a swinging, clawed foot struck his thigh, catapulting him into dirt and grass harder than a minotaur could punch. Takeo hit the ground so hard his entire world went black for half a second, and everything went silent, all the while he rolled across the ground, limbs flailing, blood in his mouth, dirt in his eyes, and body tweaking in ways it never had before. His left arm hit wrong, and he rolled over it, popping the bone loose, while several ribs cracked as he folded over backwards. When his body came to a rest, his eyes kept spinning, and the world seemed to alter in stages of white and dark. His ears rang, and a stabbing pain echoed through every fiber of his body. If given the chance, he would have lain there for some time, hoping.
But he didn’t have time for hope.
“Urm, uhh,” Takeo moaned as he pushed himself up.
His left arm gave out, and he hit the ground again.
“Come on,” he whimpered.
Takeo dug deep, fighting the aching pain shooting up and down his body to struggle to his hands and knees. The world spun, and he had to hold still, closing his eyes and fighting down a wave of nausea. One of his legs wasn’t responding to his commands, but he was too battered to know which one. He looked up to see the two komainu lying on their sides in mangled poses. Neither moved. On the other side, Takeo heard a low moan echo out, followed by retching.
He survived. Damn it.
Takeo pushed off one knee, he assumed his good one, and tried to stand. He chose poorly and almost crumpled again, catching himself on an elbow. His stomach doubled him over, shooting pain through his body, and he almost fell to a wave of convulsions. He steadied himself, pushed with all his willpower, and staggered to his feet. He dipped left, then right, catching himself with a half stumble, and made his way back to the komainu.
Lord Botan’s bent and bloodied hand flung up onto one of the komainu corpses. One of the fingers was snapped to the side. Takeo’s breath held, and then Botan’s other hand sprung into view.
They were empty.
Takeo instantly ignored whatever the lord did next and began searching for his sword. His eyes swept about the low grass for a glimpse of anything long, slim, and black.
“You psychotic bastard,” Botan said, lifting his head up over the komainu corpse and spitting a wad of blood and vomit over the side. “I’ll murder your friends for that.”
But then the lord caught himself. He saw Takeo searching and realized they were both unarmed. His eyes went wide, and he whirled about, looking for the enchanted sword. He also struggled to a stand, pushing on the komainu corpse for support. When Takeo didn’t see his sword on the first pass, he briefly considered rushing Botan and strangling him to death, but then Takeo heard shouting in the distance. Soldiers barked orders, yet Takeo was too disoriented to catch what they were saying. He remembered Botan had left the drawbridge down, and those men had seen the collision. The two wouldn’t be alone for long, and trying to strangle Botan to death wouldn’t make a lick of difference.
Takeo needed his sword.
Then he spotted it, off to Botan’s right, a flickering of black between the dancing blades of grass. Takeo’s pulse rose as his heart jumped to his throat, and he stumbled forward with all the strength he could muster, teeth clenched from the pain.
Botan saw the movement and tried to follow the gaze, searching Takeo’s direct path frantically. He spotted the black, too, and made a dash for it, but a hair too late. Takeo barred the pain from his mind and dashed several steps to strike Botan in the neck. The lord dodged, but not well enough, and Takeo instead made a glancing blow off the man’s ear.
But in their current state, it was enough to send them both tumbling to the ground.
Takeo landed on his wounded knee, and the resulting spike in pain killed any attempt to stay up. He crumpled and groaned, clawing into the dirt to push himself up and inch forward. He’d lost sight of the sword in the short fray, so his hands began to whip frantically about, searching every bit of space within arm’s reach. His fingers hit something hard, his eyes followed to find the glint of steel looking back at him, and a surge of hope spiraled into him. With the chorus of soldiers shouting in the background, there was no time to waste looking for the handle. Takeo grabbed the raw blade, unconcerned with how the steel cut into his fingers, and yanked it free of the grass.
But the blade that came loose had a brown handle, instead of black, and the touch of it didn’t send any fire spreading through Takeo’s veins. This wasn’t his sword, just some abandoned weapon left behind during the ladder assault. His heart plummeted.
Then he heard laughter.
Takeo turned about on his hands and knees, slowly, sweat collecting on his forehead, blood dripping from his freshly cut fingers. Lord Botan stood just a few paces away, looking much stronger than he had just moments ago, with the Karaoshi blade reunited in his hand.
“I have to give you credit,” Botan said, lifting the blade up so that it flickered in the sunlight. “That was a damned good attempt. You truly are a legendary man, Takeo. But all legends have an end.”
Takeo tried to whirl to a stand, but Botan closed the distance between them in half the time and kicked the ronin back to the ground. His movements were a flash to Takeo’s eyes and the blow struck almost as hard as the collision did. Takeo hit the ground and bounced, another rib cracking as he cried out. He tried to raise his sword, but Botan’s foot slammed down on the wrist, killing his strength. The blade fell from Takeo’s hand. Sunlight poured into his eyes until Botan’s silhouette loomed over him, sword tip raised.
“And this is yours,” he said, and thrust down.
There was no time for Takeo to dodge. Before he even realized Botan had moved, the sword tip reached his chest, striking center mass, and . . . stopped completely.
Takeo froze, one hand shielding his neck on instinct, the other pinned under Botan’s boot. Botan froze, both hands wrapped about the Karaoshi blade with the tip pressed to Takeo’s chest. Even the air seemed to die out for an instant, and all that could be heard was the chorus of soldiers yelling in the distance, growing ever louder.
Botan’s arms shook with force, and a vein bulged out of his neck from effort. The lord gritted his teeth as he put all his enchanted strength into driving the sword through Takeo’s body, yet it wouldn’t so much as pierce the skin. In fact, Takeo didn’t even feel the pressure from the force at all.
“How is this possible?” the shogun grunted. “Curse your infernal soul.”
Takeo was equally stunned, wracked with disbelief, but all that left him as, through the sword’s tip, a familiar fire pulsed and spread throughout his body, filling him with strength unbound.
Damn, that jinni thought of everything.
Takeo’s hand flashed up and grabbed his sword by the blade. Botan gasped just before Takeo kicked up with one leg, striking Botan with such force as to drive the shogun away. Takeo tried to hold fast and rip the Karaoshi sword free in the same motion, but Botan had the better grip, and the sword instead slipped through Takeo’s fingers. The blade didn’t so much as nick the ronin’s skin as it passed through.
Botan stumbled but caught himself from falling. Takeo struggled up to his feet, the enchanted strength having left him and his feeble, impacted body reduced to normalcy.
“Perhaps you’re right,” Takeo said, a thin, death-cheating smile slipping across his face. “Maybe I am cursed, but I accept that. Give up now, and I’ll spare your life.”
“Unfortunately for you,” Botan replied, flicking the blade to hide it behind his back, “the only thing that’s changed is that now you get to die slowly as I beat you to death with my bare hands.”
Botan cut his last word short, his gaze focused ahead. Takeo also became distracted as he looked past the shogun to the drawbridge. It seemed the Katsu soldiers had finally gotten their act together and were charging out, blades ready, a small horde of them. It stunned Takeo to see so many. He didn’t understand why they were only coming out now, and in such numbers, when Takeo saw that Botan had the same stunned look on his face as he looked over Takeo’s shoulder.
Takeo’s ears perked as he realized the shouting was coming from all directions. He glanced over his own shoulder to find an equally sized mass of Hanu warriors flying down the grassy plains towards the opened Katsu gates. Nicholas, Ping, and Kuniko led the charge.
Takeo spun back just in time to watch Botan become a blur to the human eye. A split second later, a fist appeared in Takeo’s gut, slamming him up off his feet and back several paces. Takeo hurled blood as he flew, tripped as he landed, and rolled across the grass. He stood up only to find Botan at his side again, which he caught a single glimpse of before the lord’s hand slammed into the side of his head. The world pitched black as Takeo hit the ground. The ronin’s arms flailed before him, hoping to catch just one touch of his enchanted blade. Instead, his blurry vision was filled with a blue boot, armored and raised to strike down onto his neck.
The only thing that saved him was a flash of gray that streaked over Takeo’s head and collided with the lord, swiping him from view. Takeo’s hearing came back just enough for him to hear the loud thud as Botan hit the ground, followed by a triumphant roar.
“That’s two for two, old man!” Nicholas yelled.
Nicholas had struck Botan with a flying hammer, again, and Ping dashed into view, leaping over Takeo and taking a defensive stance. Kuniko was next, a hair behind and shouting orders.
“Protect our lord,” she yelled. “Spears! We need spears!”
Takeo tried to push himself up, but he had nothing left. Between the komainu collision and Botan’s brutal assault, he teetered on the edge of blacking out. Yet up he went somehow, until he realized it was Nicholas who had hauled him to his feet.
“By Valhalla, how are you still alive?” the viking said.
“I’m cursed,” Takeo mumbled.
“I’ll say.”
“My lord!”
The voice came from a short distance away, and Takeo looked up to see Botan being pulled to his feet by men of his own, the first to reach him, a heavy maul lying in the grass at his feet. Botan could barely stand, seeming only to be conscious after such a blow by holding onto the Karaoshi blade.
“My lord, we must retreat!” one yelled to the shogun. “The gate is open.”
“Not without the ronin’s head,” Botan spat back.
The lord shoved off those holding him up and shambled forward, arms and legs shaking, yet the hand that held the Karaoshi blade was steady. The only thing standing in his way was Ping, and the boy did not move.
“Run!” Takeo commanded, or tried to, as words were difficult to form.
“Take him and go!” Ping shouted over his shoulder, then leveled his blade at Botan. “You’ll not touch my lord.”
Botan was a flash to the eye, his unease tossed aside for one fatal second before the Karaoshi blade punched through Ping’s chest, spilling blood out of his back. Ping stood shocked for all of a half second before Botan ripped the blade free, and then Ping collapsed.
“Damn it, no!” Takeo shouted.
Nicholas took one look at Ping, Botan, and Takeo and swore.
“So much for running,” he said. “Sorry, old pal.”
Botan stepped over Ping’s body, and just as the mad dash of samurai on either side collided, Nicholas hefted Takeo over his head and threw him back into the Hanu ranks.
A multitude of hands and arms broke Takeo’s fall, looping about his crippled limbs. Takeo swore, demanded someone put a blade in his hands, but he wasn’t half as loud as Kuniko, or anyone else for that matter.
“Protect our lord! Fall back! We haven’t the numbers for an assault. They're pulling the drawbridge up!”
“Lord Botan, we have to retreat!”
“What are you idiots doing? Loose the arrows! Kill him!”
Takeo heard the whistle of arrows, heard them thud into the armored troops around him, followed by grunts or screams. Soldiers leaned over, shielding him with their bodies, and all Takeo saw was the ground flying by below him as his troops carried him away.
Chapter 17
“I know what you’re going to ask,” Takeo said, left arm raised as a surgeon wrapped bandages around his waist. “You want to know why I did it. What was I thinking?”
In truth, it was doubtful Mako would ever work up the courage to ask such a question. She sat with her legs pressed together, hands clasped at her waist, and her head hung. She only lifted her eyes enough to meet Takeo’s once every few seconds. There was a glint of anger behind those beautiful eyes of hers, resentment that he would do something so foolish and reckless, knowing that it meant leaving her behind. She’d never say it, but he’d answer the unspoken question anyway. He just needed the surgeon to leave.
There was no need to say anything. This surgeon had worked on Takeo before. Her name was Hoa and she knew to be quick and silent about her work. She’d seen him worse off, having saved him from the brink of death not so long ago. Once he’d been made into a general, Takeo had sent for her to be his personal surgeon.
Hoa finished and left, not bothering to make any useless recommendations such that Takeo stay in bed for a few days. She’d worked with shogun before.
“Firstly, I want to say that I’m sorry,” he whispered, trying his hardest to sound sincere. “I wasn’t thinking about you in that way. I knew you were safe, which is more than I could say for others that are close to me. Hm, I just said that didn’t I? Others that are close to me. Plural. But it’s true.”
“The knight?” she asked.
Takeo nodded. He looked down at his bandages, and then to the warm meal arrayed not too far away. He shook his head. Since when did his actions warrant such extravagance?
“Can I ask where my mother is? What happened to her after I left?” Takeo said.
“Nothing. She’s still in the tent. No one is sure what to do, about anything it seems. I heard Kuniko arguing with Ping outside while I waited for you, before they left to get you. They said there’s talk of defeat since the catapults burned. Is that why you went out there? To get revenge?”
Takeo nodded again, though he didn’t hear Mako so easily as he should have. His senses grew dull as his thoughts slipped into the back of his mind.
“We’re defeated,” he whispered. “I’m defeated. It took the combined effort of all my enemies to do it, but they’ve brought me low. Botan sits holed up in a wall of stone, Qadir is knocking at the Hanu doorstep with an army, and Yoshida sabotages me from within. My sword is taken, my friend ripped away, and my heart torn asunder. Even if I could bring Botan down, I’m not sure I could claim a victory at this point, but that’s irrelevant. What’s done is done.
“I wanted to kill him, Mako. Either that or die trying, that had been my goal. Those are the only two ways I know of rescuing Gavin at this point. I know you don’t understand, but he represents something to me, my morality, if you will. He’s a good man, one of the few truly good people in this world, and if I can’t bring him happiness, then what am I doing this for? Is that not my aim, to bring peace to men like Gavin, so they can put down their swords and pick up their children? Violence, war, greed, the desires of a rakshasa combined with the worst of humanity took from me the only real love I’d known until last night. I can't believe she loved me so much, after all this time. Unconditional, they call it, right? Such love should be allowed to flourish, even if I can't have it. If I can’t save Gavin, then how can I hope to save anyone else? I’m lost. I’ve lost. I’ve lost so much. I’ve lost things I didn’t even know I had.
“Like Ping.”
The name tumbled out of him before he’d thought it. It actually surprised him to say it, yet after doing so, the realization stunned him. He thought of so many more, however, from Emily to his mother, from Gavin to Nicholas, Mako and his brother, all those villagers who’d shown him so much kindness as a child.
It proved too much, and Takeo didn’t have the will to fight anymore. Tears threatened to fall, and he let them. He closed his eyes and shuddered. Then a hand touched his face, and he opened his eyes to find Mako had crawled to sit beside him. They shared a gaze, then wordlessly, she pulled him close, shedding tears of her own, and he rested his head in her lap. She ran her fingers through his hair, and he wept into her gown.
“I watched him die, that boy,” Takeo said. “No, Ping was a man. He fought with me at that ruined fortress. He believed in me. He gave his life for me. I don’t understand. That sort of thing should affect me, shouldn’t it? I should have felt at least some sort of kinship with him, at least some sort of remorse at his death, and yet I’m empty. Where there should be pain, I am hollow. I don’t understand what’s happening to me, Mako, or what has already happened. It’s like . . . it’s like I can’t feel things like I used to, about Gavin, Emily, and sometimes even you. I have this strange sensation where I know the emotions that should run through me and react like I’m supposed to, but the motivations aren’t actually there. Like when I watched Gavin get tortured up on those walls, there was no pit of fear or anger that welled within me. I manifested it, based on memories, but it didn’t seem to naturally occur. It doesn’t make any sense, and I don’t know what to do about it. I’m losing something precious, Mako, yet I can't bring myself to care.
