Takeo's Chronicles, page 62
Rithisak leaned in and whispered in his ear, “In the grave.”
Takeo raised an eyebrow.
“Oh yes,” Rithisak continued, frowning. “I'm afraid so. Our samurai forces consist of the very old like my father, the middle-aged useless like myself and our shogun, or the very young, like my daughter. As to how we ended up in this terrible state? Well, you were actually at the cataclysmic event yourself.”
Takeo's eyes widen further, and he had to stop because he was out of breath. “The battle against Ichiro Katsu?” he said.
“The Massacre of the Young, they're calling it,” Rithisak replied. “Lord Jiro and Lord Ichiro decided that death by a thousand cuts was too slow, and so pitted near all their able forces against each other. Lady Xuan stayed out of the fight, the two sides butchered each other, and all of Juatwa suffered the consequences.
“You're probably piecing everything together, but let me walk you through it. That battle was seven years ago, if you'll recall, and a battle of seventy thousand souls, which was the largest Juatwa had ever seen in recorded history. Such a large number couldn't be all samurai, of course. There aren't that many samurai in Juatwa. It was a combination of samurai and conscripted villagers, but by far the bulk was made of men and women just around the age you are now, Takeo, plus or minus a decade. As you well know, that is any army's bread and butter, the backbone of their forces. It’s the perfect mix of youth, experience, and strength.” He paused to pat Takeo's shoulders and rub the muscle there. “Yes,” he continued, “the lifeblood of our military, quite literally. We sent them to the slaughter. Lady Xuan stayed out, and the two groups cut each other down practically to the man. Excellent tactic to win a war, actually. Lord Jiro lost his head and Lord Ichiro was toppled soon after, lacking the manpower to repel Lady Xuan's assault of his keep. If her eldest son, Pircha, hadn't been so incompetent on the battlefield, we might have been conquered in a year. Yet he foundered and failed, and here we are seven years down the road, the status quo unchanged. The old samurai who got us through those seven years are now older still, long past their usefulness, and so our ranks are being revived by the only new power left; the tragically young.
“The Katsu's are in the same boat. Only the Nguyen forces survived unscathed for the most part. However, as their population has always been smaller, they now sit on equal footing to us and the Katsu's. Fortunately, they're lead by an imbecile. You killed the only smart one.”
They came to a hallway that split off from the staircase, and Takeo was relieved when Rithisak pointed down that way. The two hobbled onto level ground, and Takeo released the man the moment he seemed steady. Rithisak hesitated before letting go, and then leaned over on his cane.
“So someone had to be promoted,” Takeo summed up. “It might as well be your daughter.”
“Correct,” the lord said.
“Is that also why they chose you to lead me to Lady Zhenzhen?” Takeo said through deep breaths. “The rest are all dead? I mean, no offense, but you seem a terrible candidate for this job.”
“Well, no. I'm here because I'm the only one willing to accept the duty. The others refused.”
Takeo sighed. Figures, he thought.
The hallway they were looking down was long, wide, and tall. The grandness of its size leading toward a set of heavy doors just down the way told him he was near royal chambers. Extravagance wasn't a requirement for being a shogun, yet they all seemed to share the trait of excess. If Takeo were a pious man, he might take offense, but he was more the opposite. He liked his royalty marked by treasure. It made looting them just as interesting as killing them.
At the end of the hall, before the doors, Takeo and Rithisak were greeted by ten armed and armored samurai. They had Takeo open his dirty, travel-stained kimono, and then checked him anyway for weapons. Satisfied, they gave the door a heavy knock.
“Come in!” came a muffled voice from the other side.
Rithisak patted Takeo's shoulder one last time and smiled at him. “I'm glad to have met you,” the lord said. “Good luck in there. I'll see you on your way out. I have something for you.”
He bounced his eyebrows. Takeo forced a smile, and then the guards escorted him inside.
Chapter 3
If lavish excess was a contest between shogun, then Lady Zhenzhen Hanu was a contender for the crowned champion.
Massive tapestries and large paintings adorned every open wall space from floor to ceiling, so much so that Takeo couldn't see any more than a sliver of gray stone from time to time. The floor was a patchwork of elaborate rugs, rich in color and material, glittering with gold and beautifully designed. Cabinets, dressers, and stands lined the walls, each a work of art in their own right and yet covered in countless tiny treasures. He saw pots, candle holders, vases, statues, chests, horns, bowls, plates, chalices, and some other random items he couldn't fathom a purpose for other than to be melted down in a time of need. Scattered about them were rings, jewels, coins, and necklaces, all made of terribly useless material for martial combat. The room was so full that sound itself deadened among the numerous angles, and Takeo walked like a ninja through sand. Yet none of this drew his attention more than the massive, four post, fur-sheet and pillow covered bed at the far end of the room, and the stunningly attractive woman astride it.
She was dressed in a red silk kimono with slits cut up the leg. Her wide hips were further accentuated by a narrow waist, and the kimono was both too small in the chest and cut a hand's width lower than was distracting. Her long lashes made every blink an action in slow motion, and her small mouth and powdered face made it hard to look away. He might have gone on staring at her were it not for the other company in the room.
Two others were beside the woman. One was a bone-thin young girl in black clothing with short hair, standing as stiff as a statue. She had a short katana, called a wakizashi, at her waist, which confused Takeo because this was normally a ninja weapon. Then he looked at her again and realized, judging by her clothes and hair, she probably was a ninja. He tried to fathom what that meant, but couldn’t piece it together. Was she an envoy, perhaps? Was she here for Takeo? The possibilities seemed endless and he let the questions slide to look at the other person at Zhenzhen’s side.
Sitting in a chair was an older man with a hard face, stiff jaw, and extremely bushy eyebrows. Like Rithisak, he was shaved bald, and Takeo recognized the man after a moment.
Lord Jiro Hanu's uncle. He was there when I joined Jiro’s army with Emily. I wonder if he hates me now, too. Hard to tell with a face like that.
Takeo and his armed escort walked up until he was ten paces from the royal bed and took a deep, long bow.
“Lady Zhenzhen Hanu,” he said cordially. “Thank you for receiving me.”
He remained bowed, noting deep respect, and also granting him a view of how the samurai behind him were arranged. One could never be too careful as a ronin.
“Takeo Karaoshi, as I live and breathe,” Zhenzhen replied, voice high-pitched and full of excitement. “You have no idea how pleased I am to finally meet you. I'm not sure if you'll understand, but I've played such a hand in moving you about all these years that I feel like I know you already. Please, take a seat.”
Takeo knelt down to rest on his knees, and then glanced to the two beside the shogun. Neither had changed their stoic faces.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, my lady,” Takeo said. “But I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean.”
Lady Zhenzhen sat up on the bed and folded her legs beneath her. With one hand and a shake of the head, she tossed her thick, flowing hair behind her back and then leaned forward. Her gaze was intense, and it made Takeo tense.
“Do you remember when my husband purchased your freedom from ninjas?” Zhenzhen explained. “I was the one who pushed him to do it. He thought to send a token amount to have you killed, thinking you were bait, but I knew better. While everyone else whispered in his ear to ignore the offer, I whispered into the more important part of him what he ought to do. It didn't make sense to me, why Ichiro Katsu would call you dead for near a year, only to have you appear out of nowhere and offered to the highest bidder. Between your legendary reputation and your brother's, it just didn't add up to me. And then the rumors swirled of some young amazon woman with you, and I could see the signs of love all the way back in my fortress. I saved you, Takeo, and you repaid me a thousand times over by delaying Ichiro's escape, helping slaying the rakshasa who impersonated him, and then returning to slay Lady Xuan yourself. I can only hope I will get to thank you again, soon, as you slay yet more of my rivals.”
Lady Zhenzhen's eyes traced slowly down Takeo's length and then back up, blinking half as often as Takeo would have liked. He wasn't horribly unnerved, though, as truth be told he was used to being treated like a mindless killer. In truth, it was her companions that interested Takeo more. He looked to her sides again, but neither the young girl nor the uncle had moved yet.
“Well, if all you say is true, then I owe you thanks, my lady,” Takeo said. “I'm sure you've heard the stories about the Angels' Vassal by now. You saved her, as well as me, and I did indeed love her. Also, were it not for you, I might never have learned of my family's heritage from Lady Xuan. I will serve you gladly, but I'm confused on one part.”
“Hm?” Zhenzhen blinked. “What's that?”
“Downstairs, in the courtyard, I saw your son training,” Takeo said, and Zhenzhen rolled her eyes and made a sound of disgust. Takeo quickly tried to hasten a reply. “I didn't mean any offense by this, he just happened to be at the entrance when I arrived.”
“No, it's not you,” she said. “Please, continue.”
“Lady Ki Hanu happened to walk by and, well.” Takeo shrugged. “She said I wouldn't be anywhere near a battle of importance, or near your son. The latter is fine, if that's your wish, but the former doesn't align my goals or strengths.”
The old man started to speak but coughed instead. The focus of the conversation shifted to him as he covered his mouth with a fist and struggled to gain his voice. He swallowed and eyed Takeo.
“Do you remember me, young man?” he said.
“Of course, Lord,” Takeo replied and bowed to him. “You were Lord Jiro's uncle, or at least that's what he called you. I'm afraid I don't know your name, though.”
“I'm Lord Virote Yang,” he said. “What exactly did my sister-in-law say to you?”
I know that tone, Takeo thought. That sounds like petty royal politics. You'd think people with so much wealth and power would get along well, yet they always seem to be at each other’s throats.
“Nothing terrible,” Takeo said, carefully. “She just informed me that I'm to report to Lady Zhenzhen alone. After what happened to Lord Jiro, she wants me to stay away from her grandson.”
“Well, that's just unfair,” Virote said, then hummed and leaned forward in his chair. “That wasn't your fault. However, she is right. Although the three of us see your potential, your reputation as a pariah is a barrier to having you involved in any major fight. Just having you join has already made some daimyo uneasy. If we have you lead, we might have outright defections on our hands. That's something we'll have to overcome.”
“I'm all ears,” Takeo said. “What is your plan for me?”
Virote looked to Zhenzhen, and the two shared a nod. Meanwhile, the young girl still hadn't moved, not even to relax. Takeo began to wonder if she blinked at all.
“Your first task is to head south,” Virote explained. “Along the coast there, in what should be the stronghold of our land, an annoying raiding party has set up camp, a group of vikings who have become a thorn in our side.”
Takeo's jaw dropped opened. He waited for Virote to break into laughter or for Lady Zhenzhen to correct him, but when the two remained motionless, he shook his head in disbelief.
Vikings weren't necessarily rare in Juatwa. That war-loving race of people attacked anyone and anything that had wealth and offered a good fight, and near all of Juatwa with its rich daimyo and samurai armies had wealth and offered a good fight. Vikings regularly landed, raided, and then took to their ships with what meager treasure they'd collected long before reinforcements could arrive. In times of heavy war, such as now, they sometimes even set up small camps and raided for long periods of time until a large enough force could be diverted to dislodge them. Pirates were known to do the same from time to time, though they mainly just raided merchant ships on the high seas.
However, vikings weren't like samurai. They didn't have any interest in holding land or fighting to the last man in the name of honor. When a large enough force arrived, they just packed up and left, looking for another place to go and ruin someone's day. If Takeo took a group of samurai down to deal with these vikings, they would just take to the ocean.
In other words, it was a job even the cripple Rithisak could perform, given enough men.
“You want me to scare off vikings?” Takeo asked. “Wow. I really am at the bottom of the barrel, aren't I?”
“I'm afraid so,” Virote said. He rubbed his wrinkled neck and grimaced, then looked sidelong at Zhenzhen who seemed just as annoyed as Takeo.
“I have to ask, is this just to demean me?” Takeo replied. “If it is, so be it, but please be honest. This task could be dealt with by an old man and a group of young boys, so long as they had the numbers. Why waste my talents?”
I didn't track down a jinni in a desert and slay a shogun for this.
“Well, that's the thing. We already did,” Virote continued. “We got reports that a single viking ship had landed and was causing trouble to our supply lines, so we sent an older commander and a group of fifty young samurai down to clear them out. That was three months ago, and the problem still isn't resolved.”
“A particularly stubborn group of vikings,” Takeo muttered.
“Or an incompetent leader,” Virote countered. “Either way, you're to take your group of mercenaries, go down there, and relieve the old man. No one will care if you're in charge of a force scaring off vikings. If you deal with this quickly, you'll have proven yourself more capable than at least one of our commanders, and you may also curry favor with Lady Ki. It's her lands being pillaged by this savagery. What do you say?”
Takeo made a show of thinking the offer through, but there wasn't much to consider. Truth was that he was a beggar—an exceptionally deadly beggar, sure, but a beggar nonetheless. He needed a force and a cause to fight for. He needed armies to assist, a lord or lady to serve. His purpose was bigger than him, or anyone else, and it required sacrifices both great and small. Until another opportunity presented, this was his best option.
Not that he was going to admit it.
“I'll accept on three conditions,” Takeo said. “Firstly, that the Hanu family never sits idle. The wars that have ravaged this land, this world, have gone on for far too long. I will see them put out so that peace might finally have a chance. Promise me that you won't stop at Juatwa's shores. I want Savara conquered, and The North, maybe more if need be.”
Lady Zhenzhen smiled and looked on Takeo with long lashes. “I’m pleased to hear you say that. So long as it's possible, I don't see why my kingdom should have an end,” she replied.
“Secondly,” Takeo pressed on, “don't ever betray me. I would think this condition to be self-evident, but I've found so many knives in my back over the past years that I feel it must said. I will not forgive betrayal, and if my past has anything to gleam, it will not play out to your favor. That's no threat, only a warning.
“Thirdly, my group of thugs, as they’ve been called, are to stay with me, unharmed. I know it's difficult to understand in Juatwa culture, but they've come to mean a lot to me. I trust them, they fight well, and I live for them as much as I do for my purpose.”
Zhenzhen glanced to the two beside her. The young girl still had not moved, and Takeo briefly considered that she was paralyzed, mute, and deaf. As for Virote, he only shrugged at the shogun and nodded. Zhenzhen turned back to Takeo.
“So long as they fight for me, I don't see an issue,” she said. “They do know they'll never hold rank, title, or land here? If you die, I won't guarantee them a home either.”
“They're fine with that, trust me,” Takeo said.
“Well then,” Zhenzhen replied, smiling. “We have a deal?”
Takeo bowed low and lifted slowly. “We have a deal. My life is yours.”
Zhenzhen laughed and clasped her hands together, squeezing her chest with her elbows. She smiled and shook in place, seemingly elated.
“Oh, yes!” she said. “The dastardly ronin himself at my command. You'll strike fear into the hearts of my enemies, Takeo, and I shall reward you for it.”
“I can only hope,” Takeo replied.
“You should leave at once,” Zhenzhen said. “Get some laminar armor to replace that horrible Nguyen garb and be on your way. The oni, Borota, has already agreed to be your guide. He’ll take you to deal with this annoying viking business and then I can put you somewhere more useful. I have plans for you, Takeo Karaoshi, many plans!”
She laughed again, and Takeo's heart felt heavy. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath.
“There is something you should know, my lady,” he said. “However, before I tell you, fair warning that you will want to hear this in secret.”
The young girl bolted upright, moving with such speed that it startled everyone in the room. She glared at Takeo as if he'd just hurled the vilest insult ever conceived.
“Absolutely not,” she said.
She went rigid again, only this time poised for a fight, and Takeo had to wretch his attention away from her. He waited until Zhenzhen had turned back to him and then raised a hand toward the girl.
“Can I ask who this is, my lady?” he said.
“This is Qing,” Zhenzhen replied cordially. “She’s my personal bodyguard.”
Takeo furrowed his brows. He looked back at the ten heavily armed samurai then up to the frail, lightly armed young girl who seemed in danger of being blown over by a strong breeze. Not that Takeo was one to judge a warrior by their size, but never in all his life had he heard of a shogun using non-samurai as a guard, especially a ninja.
