Takeo's Chronicles, page 73
“Things have changed,” Takeo said. “Not just the situation but also the people involved. I had to alter course.”
Krunk seemed none too assured. “You didn’t ask me. Why didn’t you ask me? I’m going back.”
“Stop,” Takeo said, grabbing the ogre’s arm. “She’s safe, Krunk, I promise. She’s much more adept at this stage than any of us thought. Dangerously so, and you need not fear for her. I didn’t force her to stay. I gave her a choice. She wanted me to tell you not to worry about her.”
The last sentence seemed to sway Krunk enough to drop it, though no one seemed pleased with Takeo’s decision. Krunk was upset for obvious reasons, but Nicholas seemed slighted, and so did Gavin who’d overheard. They gave Takeo a cold shoulder, but spoke no disagreement yet. They would eventually, but now was not the time, not in the presence of so many listening ears.
Most prominent was Borota, who, having found his samurai of interest, took up position right behind Takeo. All was right in the world again, unfortunately.
They reached the village by midday, another burned out shell of a former home. This one had fewer corpses due to some prior fleeing and more ample warning, but those bodies that were left still had flesh on their bones, rotting and releasing a stench that overpowered the smell of smoke. Lots of coughing was had as Takeo order another search, and he took a seat under a shady tree. The mix of contempt and hate in the air was almost palpable. He examined the scene.
As always, he looked to Gavin first. Duty sworn and honor bound, Gavin acted as Takeo’s point of reference in all things. Gavin might complain about Takeo’s actions or opinions, but the knight was stalwart in his ability to shoulder burden. If Gavin complained he was hot, then everyone was hot. If Gavin said he was hungry, then everyone was hungry. If Gavin was having a miserable time picking over old corpses and sifting through ashy remains, than everyone else was, too.
Judging by the knight’s grimace, Gavin was having a bad time. Takeo sighed. Time was running out.
Next he looked to Nicholas, who Takeo had come to recognize as the perfect conscripted soldier. All soldiers, when not set to combat, were inherently lazy and stubborn. Nicholas embodied this mentality one-hundredfold. If Nicholas was fighting, he was happy, but if he was lying around drinking, he was also somewhat happy. However, set him to menial work of any kind, and the big man became downright agitated. Deprived for too long of the first two and given too much of the latter, he became unbearable.
And as Nicholas poured over blackened logs and pushed aside discarded debris, he was indeed muttering to himself and looking irritated.
I wish I could share my plan with them. Unfortunately, I need them to act the part.
Between Gavin and Nicholas, all range of possible moods could be found in any given situation, which meant all the samurai under Takeo’s command ranged from slightly annoyed to overly irate.
He cut the search time in half and rallied everyone together in a straight line again, only this one front-to-back instead of side-to-side. He set a jogging pace back towards the camp, but then veered off course, skirting its edge and disappearing into the forest beyond. A murmur of voices swept through the line, a sound of confusion loud enough to be heard over the sounds of crunching dirt and shuffling gear. Directly behind him, Gavin whispered for Takeo’s attention, but Takeo ignored him and doubled his pace. The sounds of heavy huffing under the fading light was only muffled by the sounds of the branches and leaves blowing in the low breeze of Juatwa’s pleasant afternoon. Sweat fell aplenty in the warm, humid weather, but Takeo didn’t relent. He’d tested these soldiers once before and knew they could be pushed. Besides, it would be nightfall soon, and he couldn’t afford to be late, not by a single heartbeat.
After a few hours of running directly away from the camp, Gavin couldn’t hold it in anymore and whispered more urgently for Takeo’s attention.
“Damn it, Takeo,” the knight said, breathing hard. “Where are you taking us? Back to that damned keep? At this rate we won’t make it back until morning.”
“If everything goes well, we need not return to the camp at all,” he relied.
“What are you talking about? Can you stop being so secretive for a second? Also, you can’t be serious. We have to return. Krunk is worried sick about Emy,” Gavin pressed. “I can see it in his face.”
“Tell him not worry. She’ll find us,” Takeo said. “Now shut up and save your breath for running.”
They ran until midnight, with the whole line of soldiers gasping for air by then. Takeo took them through the thickest parts of the forest, forcing them to jump, duck, and dodge as well as keep a relentless pace. They surely thought he’d run them to death when Takeo halted suddenly before a shallow stream. He muttered a single order to drink, and by then his samurai were so exhausted they could do nothing but obey. Packs hit the ground, as did knees, and men and women came over to drown their dried throats with cool water and splash the sweat from their brows. Takeo drank sparingly and told them all to wait here, then marched off down the stream.
He found a place to sit comfortably under a tree, and there waited with eyes closed and a calm heart. Despite how weary his limbs were, sleep would not come. He was far too anxious.
Footsteps interrupted him not long after, and he opened one eye to see a short figure approach him in the dark, though unfortunately not short enough. His eyes adjusted to see Kuniko marching towards him, cheeks red from the run and eyes set hard. He twisted his head and met her gaze.
“We’re not training tonight,” he said. “Leave. Rest now while you can.”
“I’m not here for that, sir.” She came to a stop several paces from Takeo and stood upright, at full attention, chest heaving. Cool stream water dripped from her face, smearing the light amounts of makeup she liked to wear. It was a bad look, honestly. Kuniko wasn’t exactly an attractive young girl, not that Takeo cared.
“Well, what is it then?” he asked.
“Permission to speak freely, sir,” she replied.
Kuniko was as rigid as stone, and Takeo just stared at her. He let out a sigh and shook his head. “You know, I think my brother would have liked you, and that isn’t a compliment. Go ahead, and make it quick.”
“Sir, I,” she paused and swallowed. “I think you’re an idiot.”
The girl was still staring straight ahead, but she squinted her eyes as if preparing for a blow. Takeo’s cocked an eyebrow.
“Well, that was mighty brave of you,” he said. “A soldier like you, saying something like that to a man like me. Usually only lords and ladies make that mistake. Perhaps you’re incredibly stupid? I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, though, and let you explain yourself. Let’s hear your reasoning.”
Kuniko didn’t relax. If anything, she stiffened further, which Takeo thought was quite the feat. She took a moment to gather her thoughts, or perhaps wonder if Takeo was leading her into a trap, then cleared her throat.
“You’ve completely ignored Lord Eun’s advice,” she said. “You’ve been marching us out in large groups, splitting us into search parties, and making us vulnerable to ambushes. Then you sit down off to the side and doze off. You’ve recalled the troops defending the supply lines, and just as forewarned, they’ve been attacked. We haven’t received anything in a week, and we’re running dangerously low on food. You’ve left our camp indefensible several times now, opening us up to attack, and marched us toward dead villages to search for nothing. I keep trying to think of some clever plan or way this could be turned to our advantage, but the only thing I can come up with is that you want the vikings to think you’re a fool, and us, too, and the whole world for that matter because none of this makes any sense. You’re a great swordsman, but there’s no way you can overpower all fifty of us. If you keep leading us into destruction, nothing can be done for you.”
Kuniko’s speech had quickened with every word, and at the end of it, she seemed out of breath again. Takeo nodded, once.
“Hinting at mutiny,” he said. “Your fellow conspirators would be very upset to hear this from you.”
“You're my commander,” Kuniko replied, eyes still locked straight ahead into nothingness. “It's my duty to warn you.”
“And if I asked you turn on these others? Give up their names? What then?”
A vein pulsed in Kuniko's throat. She gave no reply.
“Don't worry, I won't do that—this time,” Takeo said. “There won't be a need, hopefully. I would like to ask why you didn't mention the old man.”
“Sir?”
“The merchant whose family was killed,” Takeo said. “Lord Eun had similar misgivings about me and was rather open about them, and he couldn't wait to bring up the merchant and his dead family. I expected you to do the same, but you didn’t. Why not?”
Kuniko blinked. “Merchants know the danger of their lot in life, sir,” she said. “It's considerably less dangerous than that of a samurai, anyway. We live, fight, and die to protect them. If a few villagers die but the masses are saved, then the sacrifice was worth it.”
“Really?” Takeo said, taking full interest in Kuniko for the first time. “What interesting thing to say. You know you’re only half right, though.”
“Sir?”
Takeo stood up and brushed the leaves from his kimono. “Samurai don’t live and die to protect peasants, you stupid girl. We exist to keep the elite in power, like a tool, to subjugate and bargain in blood. Look at me, Kuniko. Look at my past. Under Ichiro Katsu’s service, I slayed countless villagers, and never once was my allegiance questioned. I wasn’t branded a ronin until I disobeyed my lord. We are weapons, and if you think otherwise, then you've been lied to. Now, go and fetch the others. We'll be on the move soon.”
Kuniko stammered, and her rigidity was lost for a moment as she gaped at Takeo’s words. Something he said must have struck her hard, but he didn't much care at the moment.
Because just behind Kuniko stood an ogre child, and Takeo sighed in relief.
Chapter 12
It was a dark night as the vikings descended upon the circled caravans, and the thick foliage of Juatwa’s southern region provided ample cover. The three circled carts and the innocent merchants milling about inside were just a few short minutes away from being slaughtered, and chances were they wouldn’t know until it was too late. The vikings were smart, too, staying downwind so their scent wouldn’t be caught by the sleeping komainu. Were it not for the low moonlight, height advantage, and assistance from inhuman eyes, Takeo might not have seen them either.
“There, right there,” Emy whispered and pointed.
Takeo squinted, but all he saw was leaves and shadows in the far distance.
“No. Describe it,” he said.
“Okay, see the wagons?” she replied. “The one on that side. Look up and left, to the branch that just moved.”
His eyes scanned the area, and a tiny wink of light reflected back at him. It was subtle enough for anyone to miss, but Takeo knew well the reflection of steel in the moonlight. He honed in on the spot, and his heart beat strong.
“Well done,” he said to her. “How many do you see?”
“There are ten in all,” Emy said. “Two are behind that one, and I see five over there. Two more are up a ways. They’re slow and fat, like Father.”
Krunk grumbled and Emy giggled. Takeo darted a look at them both and they fell silent. He then turned back to the caravan to make sure none had heard.
Takeo and his army were a ways back, fortunately. With so many samurai to herd along, Takeo didn’t want to take the risk of pushing their line too far forward. He had everyone stop some distance from the caravan, close enough that they could be there soon with a mad charge, but far enough that they couldn’t be heard or seen by a false step. If they stood up and tried to charge the caravan, it would give the merchants—or vikings—more than enough time to disperse and retreat. Unfortunately, he just couldn’t risk getting any closer. Too many of the young samurai knew nothing of stealth, and they were as nosy as a gashadokuro in his opinion. But Emy was right. Krunk wasn’t much better.
Takeo had his entourage pulled close. Emy was just in front of him so he could follow her pointing, Gavin to his right, Krunk on his left, Nicholas and Yeira pulling up the rear. Kuniko and Ping were on either side of them, too, because Takeo wanted to be sure they witnessed his subtle plan bear fruit. He needed the positive propaganda to flow.
“This will be over quickly,” Takeo whispered to them all. “Everything we know about these vikings tells me they won’t stay to fight, especially once they see our numbers. Be ready Emy.”
Takeo nodded, and the cub slunk off into the brush. She was out of sight in less than two paces, and unheard long before that. Takeo had to fight the urge to be proud.
Remember what she truly is.
That didn’t stop Krunk from grinning though.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said to Takeo.
The samurai shrugged. “Admit it, Krunk, you would have tried to stop me. But once I realized how often she’d been hiding from us all, I understood the potential. I was able to speed up my plan, thankfully. I like to think of myself as pragmatic above all else. Now, is everyone ready?”
Nods came from all around.
“Good,” he said. “Fall back and tell the others we charge when the vikings do. Spread the word. Gavin, stay with me.”
Everyone but Gavin crawled away to the hiding samurai army several paces back. The level of shuffling made Takeo cringe. It seemed he’d have to throw in some ninja training amongst his weapons training to better develop these young souls, assuming they stayed under his command. He had a lot of work to do.
“You took a big risk,” Gavin whispered once they were alone. “Was it worth it?”
Takeo reached into his clothing and half slid out a scroll of paper, neatly folded and freshly sealed. It was still new enough to lack wrinkles.
“Just as I hoped,” Takeo said. “Eun took the opportunity to send a letter to his friends, whom ever those may be. Emy tracked the messenger unnoticed and swapped the letter for a blank. Though Eun will find out eventually, hopefully this will give Virote and Qing whatever they need. As for what happened next, Emy went off and found the vikings. So, yes, the risk has paid off so far. There’s just one more task to go.”
“What’s the letter say?” Gavin asked.
“I haven’t had the chance to open it,” Takeo replied. “No time like the present?”
“No, we need watch the caravan.” They paused, and the knight fidgeted as Takeo pocketed the letter. “You really should have consulted me first. I’m serious, Takeo. I don’t think this was worth it. What if she was captured? Or even caught?”
Takeo scoffed. “I pity the poor man that catches a rakshasa, however short his life may be. Besides, I knew that was never the real danger. Were it not for my years of ninja training, I never would have heard her. Were it not for my speed, I never would have caught her. We vastly underestimated how quickly she would develop, and how soon her hunting instinct would kick in. She’s already stalking us, and though the reasons might be innocent now, that will soon change. I realized she was a gunslinger’s pistol with the trigger held down, just waiting to go off on something. I had to redirect the bullet, or otherwise disable the gun. And Krunk hasn’t degraded mentally enough yet for me to do that.”
Gavin went deathly still, and Takeo paused. There was sudden tension, and it occurred to Takeo that Gavin wasn’t well. He turned his gaze from the caravan to the knight and saw a look of horror and shock on Shaw’s face.
“What?” Takeo whispered.
“Do you hear yourself talk?”
Takeo blinked. Gavin sighed and shook his head.
“What?” Takeo demanded.
“Nothing, I don’t know why I’m surprised.”
“What’s the problem, Gavin?”
“You just suggested killing Emy.”
“She’s a rakshasa, Gavin, and a bargaining chip.”
“No, she’s a child.”
“For now, hence why she can be controlled, but at this growth rate? She’s going to be an adult soon, very soon. And what then? What happens when she lusts for power, and has the tools to take it? What if she leaves to join Qadir, her own kind? Don’t you think she’ll want to continue her species, once she finds out what’s been happening to her kind in Savara? We can’t risk her running off to continue the rakshasa bloodline under Nguyen rule. We might as well enslave all of humanity personally at that rate. Krunk and Emy are thick as thieves now, sure, but change is coming. You know this, Gavin. It’s in her blood.”
Takeo laid everything out in preparation for a huge moral battle with Gavin. The knight was fond of telling the samurai how and why a particular action was wrong, and as much as Takeo appreciated the input, sometimes Gavin’s naivety put them all in danger. Like the time he convinced Takeo to spare Aiguo Mein, despite that man being a horrible stain of human waste, deserving worse than death. Now Aiguo was nestled comfortably in the Nguyen family bosom, or so Takeo assumed. He’d fix that one day, assuming he could muster the intellect to spot the man on sight. Yet even so, Takeo didn’t blame Gavin for that misfortune. Gavin did as Gavin had always done; he aimed for the good deed, the immediate good deed, believing that such actions multiplied and their sum would outweigh any consequence. It was a thought shared by the angels, or at least so Gavin claimed, and though Takeo didn’t agree with it, he still liked to hear it. His brother had always forewarned against insular thinking.
Yet here Gavin was, clearly in disagreement, and yet utterly silent.
“What?” Takeo said. “Nothing to say?”
“Everything you just said was so wrong, I don’t even know where to begin,” Gavin said.
“Pick somewhere then.”
Gavin rolled his eyes. “I don’t have the time or patience then. Just promise you won’t do it without consulting me.” Gavin stiffened and appeared alarmed. “Oh damn. That’s exactly what Duncan used to say to me. Oh no.” The knight buried his face into an open palm and dragged it down, stretching his skin. “That never worked out well for him.”
