Takeo's Chronicles, page 76
“Karaoshi,” Eun spoke up first, clearing his throat.
Takeo paused.
“I know I’m an old man set in his ways,” the lord continued, “but I just want to say this. Although I don’t approve of how you accomplished this task, you still completed the mission our Lady set us to. I take responsibility for losing those two vikings, but it’s you who takes responsibility for killing all the others. I will make sure the prince knows of your victory here.”
And just like that, the candle of rage in Takeo’s stomach was blown out. He blinked, stunned to hear even that little amount of praise coming from a member of the old guard. Juatwa elders were infamous for their lack of emotion and inability to acknowledge individualism, unless it was to bring shame upon those who broke the mold. Takeo had always rubbed the older generation the wrong way, he felt, and to hear Eun speak differently made him balk.
I think Virote was wrong about this man, Takeo thought.
Takeo found himself too stunned for a response. Words failed him, and he stood there like a fool. He wasn’t sure whether to acknowledge Eun’s words or continue berating him for letting the vikings die. Several moments passed, and Takeo decided it was best he stopped looking like a fool by just standing there. All eyes were on him. He turned without a word and left the group, waving off those who begged his attention on Nicholas and went to the river to clear his head. He needed to think.
The vikings, focus on the vikings. Don’t let Eun distract you. You have a job to do. Or is it already done? Am I searching for something that isn’t here? He wondered, staring into the cool waters that flowed from the waterfall towards the ocean. No. Vikings don’t leave their ship for no reason. However, it is possible that the reason doesn’t concern me. I’ve killed them like Lady Zhenzhen asked. Perhaps the vikings’ ship is of no concern to me.
The words were comforting, but hollow. He hoped Nicholas found something—or nothing—soon.
A shuffle of feet on sand caught his attention, and he turned to see four of his samurai had approached. The two in the lead were Kuniko and Ping, and another two were behind him that he’d seen in their midst more than once. They had their heads bowed, like a servant before royalty, and Takeo frowned at them. He thought they had more items to show him, but their hands were empty, clasped together in the sign of submission. Takeo narrowed one eye.
“My lord,” Kuniko started. “We—”
“Don’t call me that,” Takeo cut her off. “I’ve already asked you not to call me sir, which you’ve ignored, and I’ve let slide. However, if you call me lord again, I’ll take it as an insult, and reply in kind.”
Kuniko smiled, and at first he thought she was actually taunting him, but then her cheeks turned red. He shook his head. He didn’t know what that meant so instead just ignored it.
“What do you want?” he demanded.
“We want to apologize, sir, personally,” Kuniko said. “I was wrong—we were wrong.”
Ping took a half step forward, his body poised as if bursting with nervous energy. “Sir, you’ve done in weeks what others have failed to do in months. I can’t believe—”
Kuniko leaned forward to overtake the taller boy and hunched lower. “We’ve been disrespectful of you. We doubted your abilities as a leader and a fighter, and we couldn’t have been more wrong. Everything I thought of you, I realize now, was all based on what others told me, and they were nothing but lies. I thought about what you said about samurai, too, and I feel like there was a lot of truth to your words. They make sense, and I’ve told my friends.”
What I said about samurai? What is she talking—oh. That short conversation in the forest? I can’t even remember what I said. What is she going on about?
“We wanted to apologize for our prejudice and disrespect,” Ping stressed. “I know you never heard me say it, but I thought of you as a coward. I was always taught one couldn’t be a ronin without also being a coward, and yet I’ve seen you at the front of every charge. You’re no coward, sir, and I apologize for ever judging you one.”
Takeo cut a hand through the air, silencing them. He couldn’t take anymore. He was withering in embarrassment. He’d received more praise in the past hour than he’d received in his entire life, and none of it felt deserved. He wasn’t worthy. There was far too much blood on his hands, and he was just getting started.
“Apology accepted,” he said, looking for an easy way out. “Just be sure to use your own judgement from now on. Go and help the others.”
They bowed, deep and slow, showing such respect that Takeo couldn’t help but reply in kind. They gave another curt Sir! and then marched off to join the fray. As Takeo watched them go, he noticed that the entire conversation had drawn intense stares from the company. When he glanced around, young samurai quickly looked elsewhere, and he narrowed his eyes at them.
Was I that odd at that age? I must have been. I hope this group grows up fast. They’re getting on my nerves.
There was at least one pair that didn’t have eyes for Takeo. Gavin was on his knees before Yeira, whispering to her a hand’s width away. Yeira, although no longer out of breadth, was sweating profusely, and it was easy to see why. She was wearing several layers of clothing under her armor, which was far too much for Juatwa’s warm climate, and it seemed Gavin was trying to convince her to take some of them off. Yeira shook her head and kept looking elsewhere, and the knight pressed by reaching out a hand toward her the bottom of her shirt. She pushed the hand down first, but he went again, reaching for her stomach, and she slapped his touch away. He gaped, and Yeira bit her lip, stood up, and marched off toward the river upstream. She plopped down on her knees and splashed the cool water on her face. Takeo seemed to recall her face being wet already, but it was hard to tell now. Gavin never moved, staring at the place where Yeira had left him.
A small part of Takeo died as he looked away.
“Takeo!” Nicholas called out.
The viking came charging over, a flock of samurai in his wake. Yet more turned to join the crowd as this was the first time Nicholas had called for attention, and the whole group paused. Takeo said nothing as Nicholas approached with a handful of crumped, torn up parchment in his large hands.
“This girl here was smart enough to check the trash,” Nicholas explained, holding the crumpled papers out. “They were going to use this to start a fire, I think. I’m having two look through ashes in case any other papers survived the flames. You might want to read these one, though.”
Takeo glanced from Nicholas to the camp itself. All eyes were turned on him, and every ear was perked. Takeo snatched the parchment out of Nicholas’ hands and started to look them over. A few had already been flattened, so he started with those.
The papers were hand torn, making them perfect for campfire starting, yet terrible for reading. Takeo went one by one looking for words that might pop out at him, and soon they did. A quick line I’ve paid good money to make sure the beach is big enough, and another path should support our entire army and made his heart skip. He flipped through and caught words like a few thousand at first and the komainu should have all the meat they need, and suddenly he was pouring over the rest. He started to unrumpled the others and piece them together. A word jumped out at him, a signature at the bottom of a corner.
The Lady Anagarika Katsu
Takeo went rigid, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. Despite Juatwa’s warm weather, a layer of cold seemed to descend upon him, and he looked up slowly to meet Nicholas’ gaze. The hint of grave understanding lingered in the viking’s eyes.
Takeo shoved the letters back into Nicholas’ palm and then dashed down the beach at full sprint. He followed the river as it curved gently down to the ocean waters, and behind him a thunder of footsteps echoed. There was no time to wait for them, though, and Takeo ran until he burst out from lush forests and out onto the wide, open beach. He looked left and right, seeing nothing but yellow, sandy shores slopping down toward slow, rolling waves of white foam. On either side strode streaks of green where the shoreline bent and curved, meeting the vibrant forests and creating the look of a perfect paradise. Not content, Takeo took off down the sands, heading for the water. Behind him, the entire army was catching up, a full throng of warriors too nervous to speak up.
Takeo only stopped when his feet hit water, and he could finally peak around the shoreline to the open sea to the east. He wasn’t out of breath from the run, but he breathed deep anyway, his heart racing with dread. The entire group joined him soon, their feet dipping into perfect wet sand where gently dying waves could tickle their feet and bath them lovingly.
All eyes followed Takeo’s, and at once, all mouths fell open.
For just down the next bend, and across every bend beyond that, was entire fleet of ships. At this distance, Takeo couldn’t make out the shapes on their flags, but he could see the stark blue of the Katsu family color flying brilliantly.
* * *
Takeo didn’t let his samurai loot the viking camp. There was no time. He didn’t order them into a line either, for necessity drove them into that formation before his words ever could. Takeo had enough time to order Nicholas and Ping to lead from the front and run like mad while Takeo took up the rear. They raced back up the forest’s shallow mountain side to their former vantage point at the waterfall’s peak, and Takeo order them to press on back to the camp. He’d catch up once he had a look. Stubbornly, Borota chose to stay, and Takeo didn’t have the time to argue.
The others charged on, while Takeo climbed the former boulder to get another view. He didn’t bother lying low to stay hidden this time around.
“Too many,” he said, having counted a rough quarter of the ships and then taken a rougher guess at the total. “Damn it, not again. How did I miss them the first time? Was our timing really so close?”
“How close to death are you, human?” Borota asked from below.
Takeo looked down to see no smile staining the ugly creature’s face. The oni wasn’t joking.
“Very,” Takeo replied. “Those aren’t just passenger ships. I see siege equipment and ships to carry komainu. It’s an assault force thousands strong, perhaps tens of thousands. Their Katsu ships, I’m certain of it, but I don’t know whose leading.”
He squinted into the distance, trying to trace just where and how he’d miss so many ships traveling the first time he’d arrived. It was Juatwa’s fault, of course. This area of land had small mountains and hills, all covered in wide, thick trees, blocking sight and sound. Even from his vantage point, Takeo couldn’t see much of the ocean, which hadn’t been a problem at first when he’d only been looking for a single viking camp. He cursed himself. He must have just missed the first couple of ships arriving.
Damn my luck.
“What are you looking for?” Borota asked.
“I’m gauging their speed. They’ll land within the day, I think,” Takeo said. “Then they’ll find the viking camp raided, and depending on who is in charge, we might get an extra day as he or she wonders what to do. However, I won’t count on it. Either way, we don’t have much time.” Takeo leapt off the boulder and paused. “I won’t wait for you.”
“I don’t expect you to,” the oni said.
Takeo gripped his sword handle and took off at an inhuman speed. A chorus of heavy thuds followed behind him as Borota’s wide gate kept pace for a short while, but then he slowly receded in the distance. Takeo didn’t slow, and he caught up with his samurai forces just as night was falling. Borota arrived soon after, but not before Takeo could gather Gavin, Eun, and the others around him.
“Everyone take a rest, but we’re not sleeping here,” Takeo called out, and not a single groan was issued.
The whole of the army plopped to the ground. Food and water was passed around, and Takeo paced to the group’s center, signaling over all those he felt should be involved in the decision making, including Kuniko and Ping because Eun just wasn’t enough. Takeo needed to appear like he cared about the army’s opinion just as much as he cared about that of his friends. He made sure to speak loudly enough for all to hear.
“It’s not an invasion force,” Takeo said. “There weren’t enough of them to hold land, and I didn’t see much in the way of supplies or civilians. My guess is it’s mostly samurai with a small amount of siege engines and a small contingent of komainu mounts. I don’t know their numbers exactly, but I know it’s enough to lay siege to a castle. A force that size in an area this desolate surely only has one purpose: the Katsu army is making a surgical strike for the Hanu keep.”
Takeo paused to let that sink in. The bad news was only just beginning.
“You’re right,” Nicholas said, pulling out more pieces of torn parchment from the viking camp. “We looked over the other papers we found, the shreds anyway, and put them together. This one is another letter from that Anagarika lady, asking how many villages have been burned out. It seems the vikings were being paid to clear out prying eyes.”
Takeo snatched up pieces and skimmed them. There wasn’t much to it, as Anagarika was just asking for information, but there was another named mentioned in the letter. A Lord Botan Katsu, who Takeo assumed to be Anagarika’s cousin. Takeo had heard that two of Ichiro Katsu’s relatives had survived the family civil war following Ichiro’s death, and came out on top. It must have been these two.
“Great,” Takeo huffed, folding up the papers and shoving them in his clothing. “Now I know whose head to look for. Alright then, listen up.” The whole camp went tense and strained to hear him. “We’ve rested enough. These ships have komainu on board, which means we can’t hide nor outrun them. If they choose to, they can pick up our scent and hunt us down. If we’re lucky, whoever is in charge won’t think we’re worth the effort, but for the sake of our lives, I’m going to assume we’re unlucky. Now get up. Up! Now! We run until we reach camp.”
They stumbled home weak and exhausted in the dead of night. Takeo commanded everyone to get what sleep they could, because they’d be running again at first light. None spoke up in objection, and they passed out soon after. Takeo only hesitated long enough to corner Yeira alone.
“I’m not telling him, not yet,” the woman whispered in anticipation.
Takeo shook his head. Both of them were taking long, slow blinks as sleep overtook them.
“I’m not here for that,” he said. “Tomorrow, if you’re not going to wear fewer clothes, then you need to run without your armor. I saw you back there, sweating and nearly falling at night. You’re going to cook yourself alive tomorrow if you try that again. Promise me you won’t be so foolish.”
Yeira glared at him for a half second before exhaustion wiped it away. She gave a nod, and then settled in. Takeo did as well.
True to his word, Takeo woke everyone at first light. He had Krunk bang his heavy sword against Gavin’s metal shield to stir the whole camp from their slumber. Only a few grumbled, but the weight of what was after them kept most in check.
“Food and water,” Takeo shouted. “All that you can carry. Weapons and armor, only what you need. Everything else stays and burns, and I mean everything. We’ll be running until we die, whether that be by exhaustion or an enemy blade. We leave when I’m ready. If you fall behind, perform seppuku. If you don’t, I’ll return and do the deed myself.”
They set everything to the torch. Takeo wasn’t worried about the signal that might send to the invading army. Between the freshly killed vikings and komainu’s powerful scent, they were already as good as dead.
Chapter 15
As relentless as Takeo claimed to be, he was actually more efficient and resourceful. At only a rough fifty soldiers, he needed every blade he could get if a fight came, and he wasn’t truly intending to leave anyone behind so long as they were able-bodied. He watched his troops carefully, making sure to keep an eye on those who’d proven to be slowest and least capable. Whenever those individuals began to wane too much, he’d push just a little more and then let the entire convoy break. Sleep was regimented, always short, and done en masse. They couldn’t afford to set a watch, for every hour counted, and if they were found by Katsu’s mounted troops, then they were all dead anyway. No watch would save them.
At least not out in the open.
Of those samurai that Takeo had his eye on, one in particular began to stand out more than the rest. A pudgy boy with a round face, who for better or worse, had a look on him that reminded Takeo of his old nemesis, Renshu Miyazi. Takeo realized it was wrong to think of him as a boy, though, as although he was young, he was older than most of the others. He was close to Nicholas’ age when Takeo had brought the viking on back in Lucifan.
While all the other samurai felt the weight of the situation and didn’t complain about the pace, this pudgy soul seemed to find reason to whine, if ever so quietly. He didn’t utter anything out loud per say, but Takeo heard quiet murmurings of discontent whispered between the boy and his friends before and after short bouts of sleep. A week in of running and Takeo felt the urge to say something. Quiet discontent had a way of spreading like an infection if left unchecked.
“What’s your name?” Takeo demanded, approaching the boy and his two friends.
The trio went silent, and the other two looked at the ground. The boy balked, clearly surprised to find himself addressed, or perhaps even noticed.
“Chet Hu,” he replied.
“I’ve not heard that name before,” Takeo said. “Where is your family from? Its relations?”
“We swear allegiance to the Zhao family,” he said.
Takeo gave a curt nod and then turned away. “You’re in the back of the group far too often, Chet. That’s not the place I’d recommend being when the komainu arrive. Best pick up your pace.”
