Takeo's Chronicles, page 88
Takeo pursed his lips, wanting to keep quiet, but couldn’t stop his head from shaking slowly back and forth. Gavin frowned.
“Something I’m missing?” he asked.
“No,” Takeo said. “That attitude will suit us just fine for the first month. It’s the second month I’m worried about.”
“Second month? You really think we’ll be out here that long? Surely we’ll be noticed before then. I thought Lord Botan said he'd only give us a month?”
Takeo nodded, regretfully. “We might be noticed by some merchant coming to resupply our old camp. I wouldn’t bet on that, though. Word has probably spread of my reckless disregard for the lives of those last merchants I used as viking bait. And even if some merchant did come, Lord Botan probably has komainu scouts who will hunt down and kill any such bystanders. But let’s say one of them did notice and got back to the Hanu keep. This merchant would have to describe what they saw to someone of importance, which wouldn’t be much, and then a scouting party would probably be sent to confirm the report. Assuming they didn’t get captured, they’d then have to travel back, give their reports, and only then would word be sent to distant reinforcements. A few more weeks will pass just getting there, then mobilizing, and then traveling back to the Hanu keep. Ignoring all possible chances for something to go wrong in between, and we’ll still be here well into the second month before reinforcements ever come.
“And I know we’ll get that second month, because Botan will know all of this as well as I do. As much as time is his enemy, I’ve made it clear that assaulting this fort is too costly. At least by ladder, it is. He'd have to build siege weapons to break down our walls, which he probably will, but that will take time. After he gives us the first month, we'll get the second, too. I’ve seen it happen before, and then things will get grim.”
Gavin licked his lips. Takeo gritted his teeth.
“So, in your experience, what's going to happen?” the knight asked.
“I’ve only been on this side of a siege a few times, with Okamoto,” Takeo began. “We’d take our small strike force out to obliterate an enemy, only to find ourselves on the run from reinforcements. We’d take shelter in a fort, but being so valuable to Lord Ichiro, he’d always have a relief force at the ready to come save us. Things never got too bad. Never more than a day or two without food, and often that was at Okamoto’s command just to be on the safe side. I’ve been on the opposite side more often, though, as the aggressor. Lord Ichiro was very fond of lengthy sieges. He liked to watch the enemy die slowly, watch their will break and bend to the slow strangulation of his power.
“It will start slow. I’ve cut our rations drastically, but not by enough, not by how much I will have to. We’re still taking at least one bite every day, which I’m doing to keep spirits up for now, and also to let our stomachs shrink. The coming hunger pains won’t be so bad this way. They start as dull aches in your gut. In fact, you probably feel it already, like a useless mass has taken up residence on the underside of your belly. It sends a polite ping to your mind perhaps every hour, telling you to eat, which you quietly ignore. This affects people differently, but most get by with only mild annoyance. Some even take pride in their ability to ignore the voice, but then I will cut the rations again, and the ping is louder. It comes every half hour now, and every conversation turns to food—the smell, the taste—and still things are only terribly inconvenient. People still have the energy to complain, and do. They have no idea how good they have it.
“But then I cut the rations again, and suddenly that dull ache never goes away. It grows and grows, taking over your entire core, and it feels like every part of your body is being pulled into the empty well. It hurts, like a sharp knife every so often, and you don’t think as clearly as you once did. Events start to become hazy, as does your ability to listen, speak, even recall the past. You’ll swear it’s affecting your breathing, too, because you become winded just climbing the ladder. The pain is bad enough you think it’ll keep you up at night, but then you’re so exhausted that you pass out. At this point, there isn’t a line for rations anymore. It’s a mob. If you get your food first, you’ll see others staring at the sustenance in your hands, and you’ll see thieves just waiting for the opportunity to strike. You’ll find yourself doing it to others, and mentally checking to make sure no one else is receiving any more than you do. You’ll start questioning whether that heavier looking fellow is hoarding food somewhere, and perhaps follow them around just to be sure. If they catch you, they’ll take offense, easily and without a moment’s thought, because no one is taking a moment to think anymore. The only reason you’ll climb the ladder to the roof now is because you’re forced to for guard duty. The smell of cooked meat from the Katsu campfires wafts over the walls and you’ll think about surrender often. The only thing that stops you is the energy required to argue with me. So you pass out again and wake up shivering because you were too lazy to pull a blanket over yourself. Your thin body lacks the fat needed to keep warm.
“And then I cut the rations again.
“After that, you’ll find yourself in perpetual drunken stupor. Any random thought might become too much and reduce you to tears, and any slight between two people is liable to end in a brawl. I’ll assign two people to guard the food stores and carry the key on me at all times. I’ll always be in company then, for safety, and you’ll notice eyes on me everywhere I go. Sleep becomes the only other regular routine. People wake up to eat or relieve themselves, but otherwise spend their days skipping from one nap to the next. You’ll lose track of the days, perhaps even the time of day. If any relationships have started up between the troops, they’ll quickly grind to a halt, as no one will have the energy for love. They’ll barely have the energy for hate.
“At this point, Lord Botan will become a frequent visitor. He’ll lay out a feast just beyond the walls and promise to treat us nicely if only we’ll surrender. Some will. With luck, I’ll catch them before they can defect, and execute them as an example.
“And then I’ll cut the rations again.”
Takeo went silent and let his head fall. He could have gone into more detail, but he knew that was more than enough for Gavin. The knight wasn’t particularly fond of nightmare descriptions, having an active imagination and a strong aversion to dark times. Gavin already looked pale.
“And what happens then?” Gavin asked.
“I don’t know,” Takeo replied. “That’s usually about the time the defenders give up. If we go past that point, we’ll be in uncharted land in my experience. Tensions will be high, I know that. Watch out for Yeira. She’ll be receiving extra rations, and we won’t be able to keep that a secret for long. Things might go poorly for the less honorable men in the ranks.”
“That’s a dire prediction.”
“Dire doesn’t begin to describe it. Once the food runs out, so will all manner of civilized society. If we get out of this alive, it’s entirely possible some will look back on this moment and wish we hadn’t. I know how much you revere the high road, Gavin, but when those times come, don’t try to stop me.”
Gavin scoffed and shook his head. “By the way you tell it, I won’t have the energy to care.”
Chapter 26
Takeo cut the rations again after the first week, and the first signs of crumbling stability began to poke through.
He gave the command as people lined up for food one day, and an audible groan ran along the line. It must have been involuntary, judging by the number of people who quickly went quiet, as if shocked they had joined in. Considering typical samurai culture forbade such expressions, that in and of itself was bad enough, yet one voice took it a step further.
“Oh, come on,” a disembodied voice whispered. “As if we aren’t starving already.”
But by then the groans had died, and the voice was heard so clearly that Takeo knew in an instant who it belonged to. He marched down the line, people parting a path for him without word, until he found and locked eyes with Chet. One glance was all it took for all the fire to fade from the boy’s eyes. His jaw clamped shut and he tried to fade into the crowd. Takeo only stared, unblinking, until Chet was so still and silent that no one could hear him breathe.
When Takeo cut the rations yet again a week later, no one said anything.
As expected, nearly all activity took a sudden plunge. If one mustered the strength to wander around the fort, it wasn’t uncommon to see a man or woman lying in same place, in the same position from morning to night. When people did congregate, the conversation was often about food, and laughter was few and far between. Takeo began to encourage Nicholas to follow him around, not because it was necessary yet, but because it gave the big man something to do. Nicholas was more prone to bouts of complaining than most, and his usual method of alleviating boredom—wrestling Krunk—wasn’t so attractive anymore. It required too much energy, and the ogre just wasn't up for it. Krunk was a total recluse these days, and no one needed any help in figuring out why. Emy wasn’t talked about much, but Takeo hoped the ogre found solace in the thought that the little rakshasa was eating better than they were. It was one of Nicholas’ favorite things to talk about.
“Make me the next person you send out,” the viking said. “I could do with a bit of prison time, a bit of prison food. It’s not so bad. I’ve seen bad, you know. A whole year locked in a cold, damp cage, being fed nothing but scraps. This ain’t tough; I know tough. Not that I need things to be tough. Surely don’t miss them. All I’m saying is, clearly speed didn’t work last time, so send me, alright? I mean, really. I’m so hungry right now, if any komainu came for me, I’d probably take a chunk out of it. Oh man, the taste of it. I can taste it, Takeo. Oh wait, no, that’s just my saliva. But yeah, anyway, send me. If I don’t make it, I can at least kill a komainu and we can haul it into the fort. Just one. Just one more. Think about it.”
“No one leaves, Nicholas,” Takeo responded.
Not that the viking heard. He just wanted to talk.
Besides that, things weren’t all that bad yet. To Takeo’s surprise, Kuniko still wanted training sessions, and she still brought half the remaining army with her every time she approached.
“Surely you can find other ways of entertaining yourselves,” Takeo said by the middle of the month. “No one should be working up a sweat at this moment, or an appetite.”
“Not all training need be physical, Sir,” she responded and bowed low, along with all the others. “Besides, how can I be the best if I let something as insignificant as hunger stand in my way? You would never be so weak.”
Takeo couldn’t explain it, but something unnerved him in the way she said those words. He lost his will to argue and led them to one of the many unused rooms.
Ping was with them this time. Takeo was having the food guard rotated as often as possible, at odd times, and was sure that the selected pair was comprised of opposing social circles. After each change, he counted the food stores to make sure nothing had been touched, both as a way of eating up time and as a way to spread the word that distrust and unpredictability were the only constants in the new order of the fort. Some people, such as Ping, were still given guard duty often, however.
Takeo went through slow motions with the group, correcting form where he cared to, as the lack of energy was making more than a few sloppy beyond reason. He thought the entire exercise a waste, but he hadn’t anything better to do. He thought the group was being intentionally relaxed, when the questions started coming, and he realized he’d been lured into a trap.
“Sir,” Ping began as Takeo was correcting the man’s grip. “If I may ask, what do you consider to be your greatest fight?”
Takeo paused, caught off guard, until he noticed every ear in the room perked.
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I’d have to think about it.”
“Can you name some anyway?” Ping pressed.
Takeo watched as every sword hand began to droop, and he sighed.
“No one came for training today, did they?” he asked.
“Sir,” Kuniko was quick to jump in. “As I said, not all training need be physical. We were hoping you could help us in other ways.”
“What ways?” Takeo sighed.
And why do I feel uneasy?
“We’ve been talking a lot about what you said,” Ping responded. “About a samurai’s true purpose. We were hoping you could impart more of your wisdom on us.”
“I don’t remember saying anything about a samurai’s true purpose,” Takeo replied. “And what wisdom are you talking about?”
“You’re not struggling like the rest of us,” someone said.
“Why are you so strong?”
“What made you?”
“Teach us to survive.”
Takeo whirled on the voices, yet more questions came, and Takeo cut a hand through the air.
“Silence,” he said, and he was obeyed. He closed his eyes. “Sit. If we’re not training, we’re not wasting energy standing.”
They did so, and he followed suit. They waited in silence, with full attention focused on him. From across the way, Nicholas stared wide-eyed, mouth agape at what surely must have been pure insanity.
Or at least that’s the way Takeo saw it.
They must be bored out of their minds. That’s it. I remember being that way, a young recruit eager to hear the stories of older veterans. That must be what they’re after.
“One question at a time,” Takeo said.
“Mine, please, Sir,” Ping spoke up.
Takeo waited, hoping someone else would shout out another question, but they all stayed quiet. Takeo relented.
“My greatest fights,” he whispered, but was heard quite well. “What do you mean by great? The ones where I learned the most, that changed the course of my life? Or do you mean the ones where I came closest to death’s door?”
“The second, Sir,” Ping replied.
Takeo sighed. “Of course, I thought so. That’s too bad. I think I’d much rather describe the first. Just one story, and I’m not sure if it will be my greatest fight or not. Death and I have meet too often for me to remember every encounter.”
After some deliberation, he decided to tell of the second time he fought the infamous rakshasa, Jabbar, in the jinni’s den below the sands of Savara. He chose that story because it included not only Emily, but also Kollskegg Ludinson the Sturdy, and it was much easier for Takeo to talk about the accomplishments of others rather than himself. It also had the added benefit of entreating Nicholas, who loved to hear about that old viking.
Takeo dragged the story out, hoping to bore them, but to his dissatisfaction, yet more questions sprung upon completion. They wanted to know the largest creature he ever fought, one-on-one, and he paused because he’d never thought about that before. He told them it was a close call between a golem and a minotaur, and then had to explain what they both were. They asked what was the largest number of opponents he fought at once, but he refused to answer, because he didn't want to think about it.
He thought the conversation would come to a close then, but still they persisted, asking instead what his childhood had been like. They shouted rumors that he’d been born out of jinni’s wish, or that he’d been fed vampire’s blood as an infant. Someone said they’d heard he’d survived a basilisk’s gaze, and Takeo couldn’t help but bury his face in his palm.
“How strange,” he said aloud. “In my absence, I’ve become the monster that mothers whisper about to scare their children.”
He asked what other rumors they’d heard, and the stories tumbled out.
Apparently, in no particular order, Takeo had been swallowed by a kraken and cut his way free; lost a lover on the Great Plains, and then fought to the death the banshee that arose from her soul; traveled to The Forest of Angor and slayed treants by the thousands just to sharpen his sword; spent some time being raised among wargs in the North; caught a pixie with his bare hand; survived a gunslinger’s bullet by cutting the projectile in half; and made love to a yuki-onna.
They tried to go on, but Takeo stopped them. He’d heard enough.
“I think I see the problem here,” he said. “It's a lack of proper education. I need to teach you all proper skepticism. Surely, after meeting me, you don’t still believe any of these tales?”
He expected to be met with silence, but Kuniko responded in a heartbeat. “Sir, after seeing you leap from the walls of the fort, I think the legends are understated.”
A wave of nods swept through the room, and Takeo balked. He opened his mouth to respond, to counter, but found himself speechless instead. He’d just asked these people to examine something with their own eyes, and they responded that they had. What could he possibly say? Tell them they hadn’t seen anything? That their eyes deceived them? That it wasn’t him they saw, but his enchanted sword, an ill-gotten thing stolen from a jinni under a rakshasa’s nose?
Maybe one day he could, but not now, not in this besieged fort.
“I’m not answering any more questions or telling any more stories about my past battles,” Takeo said. “At least not until we make it out of here alive. If you have other questions, though, I will answer those.”
A moment’s silence passed, and Takeo was certain he’d stumped then, when Kuniko raised her hand. Takeo slouched and nodded to her.
“My lord,” she said, and Takeo missed the opportunity to correct her, “in your opinion, what is the true code of a warrior?”
Takeo blinked.
“That's a deep question,” he said slowly. “Is this what you have been doing with your time? Contemplating philosophy?”
They grinned and hunched forward, and Takeo noticed even Nicholas was all ears.
“The true code of a warrior,” Takeo echoed, feeling the weight of the words. “What would I possibly know about that? I’m just an exceptionally skilled swordsman, nothing more, trying to balance the scales that I tipped over long ago. However, a certain attribute does come to mind. I’ve never a met a great warrior who didn’t have purpose, and so no code would be complete without that element. You constantly speak about wanting to be like me, fight like me, and survive like me. If that’s true, then understand that you’ll need this above all others.
