Takeo's Chronicles, page 163
The walls were choked with soldiers trying to leave, either climbing the rope or in some cases just flinging themselves from the walls in terror. The flames stopped at the wall’s base; the heat from the flames was staggering.
“Lord!” someone shouted, spotting Takeo among the rooftops. “Our lord! He’s alive. Lord Takeo’s alive!”
The Hanu army, shocked as they were from the tragedy thus unfolding, cheered at this glimmer of hope that their leader had survived the carnage. They cheered again as Takeo leapt to the next rooftop, gathered his strength, and then made the final leap that put him safely on the walls. The soldiers caught him as he fell into their crowd.
“My lord, you’re alive!”
“Lord, is there anyone else out there?”
“What happened? Did you see what happened?”
“It was a trap, wasn’t it, my lord? The bastards!”
“Off,” Takeo roared, pushing himself free of those who’d caught him.
The crowd drew back, stunned by his tone.
“Off, I said,” Takeo repeated and pointed away from the city. “Everyone off the walls, now!”
He had to shout over the roar of the flames to be heard, and it spoke volumes that he was not instantly obeyed. The soldiers balked, but only so long as it took the sergeants and others with any sort of authority to remember their place. Takeo’s orders were repeated, and the throng of soldiers inched back to life. They began to descend the ropes again.
“Faster,” an officer barked.
“You heard the general. Get off the walls,” another said.
Takeo turned away, satisfied there would be no further delays, and surveyed the scene he didn’t want his troops to take in.
The Phan city burned now with extraordinary brilliance. Every building, every street, every inch of the place was a raging inferno, burning so brightly that it ripped tears from Takeo’s eyes just to look upon it. The heat rushed by, creating its own wind, and blew Takeo’s short hair back. He could feel his skin bake, and the immense roar of the flames was louder than anything Takeo could remember hearing. Not a scream issued out now. Everyone who had failed to make it out was dead, or otherwise so consumed in flames that they could no longer speak. Thick, black clouds of smoke rose up, visible only by the brightness of the flames that created them. Takeo knew that when this infernal storm finally died, nothing would be left behind but ash and soot. They would only know the death toll by counting the survivors and subtracting the difference.
Yet, hard as it was, Takeo strained his eyes through the bright flames just enough to see the lone tower in the distance. Like the wall on which he stood, the fire stopped just before the tower, raging all around but leaving the structure otherwise intact. Likely now, those within would feel the heat, but they would live. Untouched, as it were, perhaps only slightly annoyed by the sound of the inferno, the bright light in the middle of the night, and the smell of the dead being turned to ash.
Takeo clenched his fist and looked down at his sword.
“Useless,” he muttered.
“My lord.”
Takeo jerked his head ever so slightly away from the flames, catching a glimpse of the last remaining soldier on the walls. He was kneeling over the side, one hand on the rope, shielding his face from the heat with the other.
“My lord, are you coming?” he asked.
Takeo sheathed his bloodless sword and nodded, walking over. He took the rope and paused a moment.
“Dispatch a messenger back to Lady Kuniko,” Takeo commanded. “Tell her I require new guards.”
* * *
No one slept that night. Those who managed to do so the following day passed out from exhaustion. The fire raged strong all through the night and well into the next day. Considering an entire city needed to be consumed, the beast would be feasting for some time.
Worse still, by Takeo’s estimation, the danger wouldn’t abate once the flames died down. The streets would radiate heat for weeks, covered in a thick layer of insulating ash that would keep hot embers burning and make the city unsafe to enter. The fire had raged with such intensity that it had partially melted the massive steal doors of the city, welding them shut. The entire entry would have to be dismantled and brought down so the Hanu army could bring in shovels and carts to haul out, load by load, the massive amounts of debris that would bar their path.
“There’s more bad news though,” Gavin said over breakfast following the second night. “The first batch of scouts we sent out have returned, and things aren’t looking good. They’ve been preparing for you for a while. The few farms all around this fortress have been burned. The wells were poisoned. Even what few forests existed were set aflame. There’s nothing around us we can use that we didn’t bring ourselves. Nothing but rocks and dirt.”
“And why are you telling me this?” Takeo asked. “Why not someone else?”
Gavin shrugged.
“The daimyo asked me to rely the information. I think they’re afraid of you right now.”
“Of me? It’s not their fault the city burned. I walked blindly into that trap, and we still haven’t figured the total losses. I’m not going to punish them.”
“I don’t think they’re afraid of receiving your wrath as much as they are terrified to witness it.”
Takeo sipped his tea and coughed. The air in their small valley was atrocious to breathe and would be for some time. The mountain peaks created an almost hermetically sealed lid on their smoke-filled camp. It didn’t much matter what Takeo’s cook brought him. He couldn’t taste anything but char.
“Have you figured out what you’re going to do?” Gavin asked.
“The only thing I can do,” Takeo responded. “See the other fortress I must bring down.”
“The Ngo fortress? Before you go, you know you have to say something to the troops, right? You can’t leave them like this, Takeo, with this loss. So many died, and for nothing. At least, that’s how they’ll see it if you leave. If you can’t think of their loss, at least think of the morale. Desertions are soon to follow.”
“And where will they go?” Takeo said. “As you said, there’s no food or drinkable water anywhere within walking distance. I don’t need to speak to my troops after a defeat. They should trust by now that I’ll see us through to victory, and if I don’t, well, no speech will change that. I only need to talk to one person right now. Bring Anagarika. I have orders to give.”
Lady Anagarika came wearing a black veil, which Takeo assumed was her attempt to show subtle condolences to the soldiers that had died. He also assumed she’d done this on advice from one of her old counselors because the warriors who fought and died while she sat and watched would be little swayed by a simple, dark face covering. Takeo had to admit that although Lady Anagarika played a deft hand at entreating royalty, her ability to work with the common troops was sorely lacking. Of course, that had been Botan’s job before, as it was now Takeo’s, but she would need to step up her charismatic abilities in the coming days.
“My lord,” Anagarika said, putting her knees to the ground and resting on the back of her heels. “You sent for me?”
Takeo took a moment to inspect the daimyo. Truth be told, Takeo had a considerable amount of respect for this woman, which she’d earned over these past few months as they’d gotten to know one another. At first glance, the Lady Anagarika Katsu was equal parts plain and unassuming. She preferred dressing simply and applying just enough makeup to hide some of her less attractive features—or those she thought unattractive. Whether standing before a servant or kneeling before her superior, Anagarika kept up a meek guise with narrowed shoulders, a slight hunch, and elbows drawn inwards. When combined with a soft voice, to appear any more harmless would have aroused suspicion, and Takeo quickly deduced that this was all by design.
The Lady Anagarika was clever.
Takeo soon came to realize that although he’d been the one to offer Anagarika life, her current position had been entirely her doing. Anagarika displayed an artful tact upon the political landscape, cropping up at just the right time when a favor was needed or a task remained unfulfilled or a position lay open. In a world where knives could come from anywhere or anyone, people were reluctant to give power to that which could hurt them. Anagarika seemed harmless, and therefore trustworthy. In such a way, her path to power continued to rise while others fell.
Takeo only needed to look as far as Lord Botan to see the truth in this. Despite Botan having been the face of the Katsu army, playing general and lord with equal enthusiasm, he’d still acknowledged Anagarika, his cousin, as an equal shogun. Even though he led the battles and constantly put himself in harm’s way while she sat on pillows in a tower, he had no issues sharing the proverbial throne with her. And then look what happened when he died. Somehow, while Botan’s head went rolling across the stone steps, Anagarika had raised herself up. Not only did she command the Katsu regions more thoroughly than ever, Takeo was now about to entrust her with leadership over a good number of his Hanu troops, as well.
To Takeo, these were admirable qualities. Anagarika displayed not only prudence, but resourcefulness, and he felt confident that she would see her way out of any sticky situation, no matter the cost—just like him.
As vain as that sounded.
“I’ll be leaving soon,” Takeo said to her. “Seiji is just one of three brothers I need to slay, and I need to see how the last one is holding up. With any luck, Lord In-Su will be more reasonable, but I doubt things will go that easily. At this point, I’m just hoping Oiu obeyed my orders not to engage with his older brother. If Qadir was omniscient enough to foresee me coming here first, I fear what may be happening at the Ngo fortress in my absence.
“As I said back at our main camp, I’m leaving you in charge here. There’s no need for us to play games; I know that I’m leaving you in a tough position, but I believe you’ll be able to hold things together until I return.”
Anagarika bowed until her forehead touched the ground.
“My lord is too kind,” she said. “I will strive to be worthy of your trust.”
“I’ve already gone over how tricky the rakshasa race can be—and you’ve now witnessed that in grand display, unfortunately—but I’m going to give you some more advice. I’ve been in a number of sieges in my life, so I’m going to tell you what I would do in your situation.”
“And I will listen,” she replied. “Your input will be taken to heart.”
Takeo paused as he realized Anagarika had not balked at his decision to leave, as Gavin had. He had to appreciate that sort of obedience. No wonder the late Lord Ichiro had ruled with an iron fist. Having one’s words treated as indisputable law was highly addictive.
“Let’s first examine the situation,” Takeo said. “Our resources are thin here. The Nguyens have burned or poisoned everything they could, leaving us nothing to work with. That tower is large, too large to be taken down by anything less than siege engines for which we have no material. With only a few small windows to protect, a ladder assault won’t work either. A couple of defenders could hold off an endless horde of enemies. Our chances of starving them out are nothing short of a dice roll, but we can rest assured that Seiji was well prepared for our arrival and thus will have stocked himself with lots of provisions. I wouldn’t be surprised if he could sit in that tower for a year. Add to this our army’s low morale and recent death toll—more than a few of our soldiers will be hesitant to re-enter any battle for some time. Some are liable to run.”
“My lord paints a bleak portrait,” Anagarika said. “What would you have me do? Strike at the base with battering rams?”
“No, no,” Takeo replied. “Seiji has already shown me that he brought archery equipment with him. He’d pick off our men while they uselessly flung themselves against a wall designed to withstand boulders flung from catapults. I need you to do something perhaps even more mundane. I want you to tunnel under the building.”
Gavin and Anagarika perked up.
“My lord?” the daimyo said. “Tunnel? But this ground is more rock than dirt.”
“And it’s my hope that Qadir came to the same conclusion,” Takeo pressed on. “Find a building close to the tower that survived the carnage and start digging. Once you are under Seiji’s tower, begin searching around. In all likelihood, there is a storeroom or basement of some sort beneath the tower, and at least one of those walls will be thin. Something down there will be non-structural, so to speak—find it, break in, and lay waste to all inside.
“This also presents some solutions to our current problems, if I may continue. The soldiers, so recently shaken, will not want to rush headlong into another battle. You can work the entire army in rotating shifts, day and night, completing the work faster while simultaneously assuaging any feelings of unease through exhaustion. Better still, you’ll give them purpose, entrusting that their lord has a plan to snatch victory from the maws of defeat once again.
“I’ll have timbers shipped up with the rest of the supplies from the main camp. These you can use to support the tunnel’s interior. If, at the end of this, the tunneling proves ineffective, we can pull the timbers out and re-purpose them into at least one siege engine. We’ll see.”
“My lord is tenacious,” she answered, bowing. “I’ll put your plan into action immediately.”
A quiet sigh escaped Anagarika’s lips as Takeo dismissed her, and the tension in her shoulders eased. If Takeo didn’t know any better, he’d have said she was terrified during that entire meeting. But then he thought no more of that and commanded his servants to pack a single bag. He, Gavin, and Emy would make the journey to the Ngo city alone.
Chapter 9
The journey from the Phan to the Ngo city was not a short one. Normally, Takeo wouldn't risk traveling alone through enemy territory, but Qadir had made it clear that he didn’t intend to fight the ronin by normal means. The fire proved that Qadir had much more elaborate plans at work, and a simple ninja ambush in the woods was beneath him.
Or at least, that’s how Takeo interpreted it. Gavin wasn’t of a similar mind.
“I can’t help but feel like this is a show of power,” the knight said as they traveled on the backs of komainu at a leisurely pace. “You were trying to demonstrate to the troops that despite the loss and you leaving, you don’t fear the enemy, so confidently that you’d strike out yet again with only a few people at your side. Only this time, we’re not traveling a short way to some daimyo’s home; now we’re going leagues from one major city to another. You know, Takeo, for someone who claims not to care what others think about him, you put a lot effort into manifesting that image.”
“Yes, yes,” Takeo answered. “Your philosophical ponderings are as surgical as always, Gavin, but you’re completely forgetting the tactical necessity of leaving with as few as possible. Our main defense is our speed while mounted, and that’s the case with or without an armed escort. If we encounter any force too large, we’ll run, and that would have been our strategy regardless.”
“Yada, yada, yada,” Gavin replied. “Your tactical summations are as impeccable as always, Lord Takeo. It’s almost as if you’ve thought of everything, and you’re incapable of making a mistake. Surely you wouldn’t be so foolish as to play right into Qadir’s paws.”
“Would you feel better if we rode faster?”
“And then run the risk of losing my grip and falling and breaking my neck? Don’t be ridiculous. I’d rather get ambushed and say that I told you so.”
Takeo smiled.
It was good to have the old Gavin back, especially as the ride otherwise would have been dreadfully boring. Emy’s mouth was a steel trap, indistinguishable from a mute. Not that she was rude about it, though, as she still responded well enough when Takeo or Gavin asked her a direct question, though Takeo did this rarely.
Deep down, the ronin understood that he was biased against the rakshasa race. However, he felt justified in that bias, just as he felt justified in the way he viewed the oni and akki. Creatures, like cultures, had a nature to them that ran into one’s blood. A rakshasa couldn’t be human any more than a hydra could, and Takeo didn’t even trust most humans for that matter. The longer Emy kept silent, the greater Takeo’s suspicion grew. He’d always suspected that once Krunk was gone, Emy’s independent and self-serving nature would surface. Her complete passivity appeared to Takeo as another disguise, her attempt to hide the thoughts that lingered just behind that orange and black-striped fur. In short, he became convinced she intended to kill him—or at least she was thinking about it.
And why not? He had stabbed Krunk, after all, as inevitable as that situation had been. It was plain as day that for some strange reason, Emy had revered Krunk as a father figure. How would anyone feel watching someone kill their only parent? It was natural for her to plot revenge, as natural as it was for Takeo to take precautions against this.
And so, Takeo decided that Emy shouldn’t get to hide undisturbed behind her new mask of silence. After a couple of days, he began to probe her.
“You’re probably wondering why I had you sit out that assault on the Phan fortress,” Takeo said to her one evening as they laid out their meager campsite. “Or perhaps not, as you are a clever girl.”
It took a few moments for the other two to catch on that he was addressing Emy, even with the gender-specific word. Emy glanced uncertainly at Gavin, just to be sure he had heard the same thing as her. The knight frowned and shrugged.
“Of course, I know,” Emy said. “Or at least I suspect. To you, I’m a potential bargaining chip with Qadir. You know that he wants me alive, and you feared that whatever he had planned for you on the other side of those walls would involve snatching me away. Better to leave me in the safety of the camp, especially as my particular talents were not needed.”
