Takeo's Chronicles, page 91
“Why aren't they aimed at the same spot? This is insanity,” Gavin stuttered. “Doesn't he care about defeating us?”
“We’re already beat,” Takeo replied, shouting again to be heard over the barrage. “And one of these walls is going to give eventually. We might last a day or two more because of this odd attack pattern, but this fort is too old to survive for long. You needed to see this, though.”
“What? Why me?”
“For Yeira,” Takeo answered. “You need to be ready. When the attack comes, it could come from any side, and you need to be prepared to take Yeira to the safest place in the fort, which will only be known once they break through somewhere.”
“Alright, well I’ve seen it. Now let’s get out of here.”
Takeo nodded in reply, and they climbed down the ladders to more stable footing below.
“Remember,” he whispered to Gavin, leaning close, “when they come, you grab Yeira and find a place to hide. Don’t worry about me or anyone else, just keep safe.”
Gavin narrowed an eye and dashed a cautious glance over the plethora of meditating soldiers all around them. Kuniko and the rest didn’t seem interested in anything that was happening, though, and the fort continued to shudder and rumble in steady rhythm.
“What are you saying?” the knight responded. “I’ll be at your side, Takeo. I can’t leave you.”
“Yes, you will. It’s the only way I can forgive myself for this failure. You must survive, Gavin. As my last—perhaps only—act of kindness in this world, I want you to live through this. I can’t let you share her fate.”
Takeo steadied himself, the overwhelming hunger assaulting his senses again and threatening to topple his calm nature. Gavin, who had no such reservation, let a tear come to his eye and reached out to clap Takeo on the shoulder. The samurai didn’t shrink away this time.
Gavin pulled him close and whispered in his ear, “We can still surrender, you know.”
“No,” Takeo whispered back. “We cannot.”
He didn’t elaborate out loud. He knew Gavin would never approve. The truth was that no shogun would spare a sellsword’s life when there were so many other captives on hand. If Takeo surrendered, Lord Botan would have more than enough Hanu soldiers on hand to barter in the future, and Gavin would become irrelevant. The only chance for the knight to make it out of this alive was to limit the number of captives Lord Botan would receive. If Takeo and all the other troops died in the final assault, there might be so few remaining that the shogun will take the chance on keeping Gavin alive just in case.
It was a slim chance, and it would require the sacrifice of every life in this fort, but Takeo was willing to take it.
“Ah, there you are,” a familiar voice called from across the room.
Takeo and Gavin turned to see Lord Eun appear from one of the hallways, bathed in the bright afternoon light shining in from above.
“There can be no more delay,” he said, coming forward and picking his way over meditating samurai. “It’s time, Takeo.”
The old man's was followed by his usual entourage, minus one of course, which wasn’t threatening in any fashion to Takeo. They all seemed as determined as their lord, despite being only a handful in number, and Takeo had to wonder that this encounter wasn’t specifically planned by Eun to take place in full view of the entire remaining group. All were present except for Nicholas, Krunk, and Yeira.
“Time for what?” Takeo replied.
“To surrender,” Eun answered.
He enunciated his tone by raising his chin, as if doing so put his opinion above reproach. Takeo found himself quite surprised to hear this, not the words necessarily, but the confidence with which the man spoke. He shook his head.
“What’s this?” Takeo said. “Have you run out of witless lackeys to do your protesting for you? Has Lord Eun fallen so far that he’s been forced to grow a spine? Go ahead, bastard. Challenge me.”
Takeo dropped a hand to his sword. To Eun’s credit, he only withdrew by a hair.
“You’ve done well,” Eun said, speaking with his chin still raised and in a heightened tone. “No one can deny that, Takeo. You’ve held out long enough for honor’s sake, even longer than that and delayed the Katsu army as much as you could. I . . . I commend you for that. We all do, but to resist any longer would be futile. We must surrender, and thus live to fight another day. Any longer and we will die for nothing.”
Takeo didn’t reply. He couldn’t come up with a convincing lie to counter those words. Among the meditating samurai, he noticed a few were cracking their eyes open, perking their ears. They were listening, and Takeo’s adrenaline spiked.
“We’re not surrendering,” he answered. “We aren’t cowards.”
Eun balked. “I'm no coward. You're a fool. Haven’t we suffered enough? What possible benefit could come from waiting this out? In our weakened state, we won’t even be able to put up a proper fight. We’ll die in moments, all of us, and for nothing. Surrender, Takeo! Don’t let more of our youth die to slake your thirst for glory. If you don’t have the stomach for it, then fine. I’ll do it. Just give me command. Relinquish your duties and let an old man like myself take the fall. Do it for them.”
He pointed to the samurai still sitting around them, now all with their eyes fully open, minus Kuniko. Eun stepped toward her and cast both hands over her quite figure.
“I know you favor this one,” he said. “Think of her father. Think of your promise. You can save her, if only you’ll surrender. Do the right thing.”
Takeo’s mind raced in circles, cognitive thought forever slowed by hunger-stricken pain. He gritted his teeth and felt sweat drip from his pores. He tried to keep his gaze focused on Eun, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw the many samurai surrounding him were watching his every move. They seemed poised for action, desperate for guidance. Among them, Takeo saw so many he had helped and advised over these short months. All the faith they’d placed in him, and how he was willing to cast them all aside. Did they see that? Surely they saw that. Surely they could see that he was a fraud, a dealer of death as harmful to his allies as he was to his enemies. Takeo was a plague, he knew. A disease that killed all those close to him, and yet he could stop it now. He could. If only he was willing.
Am I? Is this the right thing to do? Do I even care if it’s the right thing to do?
He wasn’t sure anymore. He felt lost, hopelessly so. He tried to draw strength from his sword, but no answer came to him in that moment, only heat. He felt weak and stumbled off balance, taking an awkward step toward Eun. With his hand on his katana, the move must have seemed threatening, because Eun flinched.
Takeo stopped and let his hands drop. He’d been silent for too long now, and his indecision lay bare. He looked weak.
Okamoto would be ashamed.
Kuniko stirred. She twitched to life for the first time since Takeo had entered the room, placing one hand on the stone floor and standing up with her eyes still closed. Lord Eun backed away to give her space, and his attention darted between her and Takeo. The entire congregation transfixed on her every move.
She lifted her eye lids and faced Lord Eun. He gazed back, face hopeful.
In one swift motion, Kuniko grabbed her sheathed sword, drew it, and sliced the blade across Eun’s body, cutting the lord open from left hip to right shoulder. He screamed both in shock and pain as blood spilled bright red in the afternoon sun, splattering across Kuniko and those closest to her. The lord crumbled to the floor, gasping for air as he bled out from a deep gash in moments. His frail, old, and hunger-weakened state allowed him only a few fleeting thrashes before he lost strength and lay still.
Kuniko held poised over the old man, her sword dripping blood.
“What have you done?” Eun mumbled, and then rattled as death took him.
Lord Eun’s entourage recovered from their shock far too late, and they drew their own swords to level them at Kuniko. But then they froze, because the entire congregation stood next and drew their swords, too.
They leveled the naked blades at what remained of Eun’s legacy.
“This is the fate of all cowards,” Kuniko spoke. “Sit and join us, or follow in his footsteps.”
The handful of youth, remarkably paler than Takeo remembered, needed only a few breathes to absorb the apparent. They glanced at Takeo, as if he might step in and save them, but the ronin was too stunned to move. A few moments passed, and Lord Eun's followers sheathed their swords, if reluctantly, and kneeled. The congregation sheathed their blades, too, and sat back down. Kuniko turned and paced toward Takeo, her blade still drawn.
Her straight, dark hair and narrow face were still dripping with lordly blood. Her sword made a neat trail of tiny splatters in her wake, while her footsteps left red prints in the ground. Takeo found himself held motionless by her steady walk, and Gavin alongside him suspended in an equally aghast state. As she came closer, Takeo’s senses kicked in, and his fingers itched for his sword. He didn’t know what she was planning. All he could think was that none of this should have happened. He willed her to stop, begged her to stop, and yet she persisted, coming closer and closer, and Takeo was certain she met to attack him as well when she came within a fraction of his reach and fell to her knees.
She bowed, hands going to the floor with her bloodied blade before her. Her hair fell, too, parting down to expose her neck. The tiny bumps of her spine pushed through and the soft, hunger-thin skin that protected it.
“My Lord,” she started. “I apologize for killing without your permission, but I couldn’t hear him speak treason any longer. However, I make no excuses for what I’ve done. I submit myself to your judgment, even if that means death.”
Takeo was reeling. His mouth still hinged open. Kuniko’s words passed by him like a breeze for all the attention he paid, because he couldn't summon words.
She killed him. She killed a lord. Not in defense, or in the heat of battle. I’ve never seen that. No samurai should be capable of that. How did that happen? What are you?
He looked down at this young girl with the certainty that he did not know her in the slightest. He even felt a twinge of fear. If a battle weren’t looming over their heads, he might kill her just to assuage the unease in his stomach, which was so strong that it overpowered his hunger.
“There,” Takeo started then paused. “There will be no punishment for now, but I will think on it.”
“My lord,” Kuniko replied.
She stood and paced back to her former place, where she took a seat in Lord Eun’s blood. Takeo grabbed Gavin by the shoulder and dragged the knight out the room as fast as he could.
“By the angels,” Gavin stammered once they were beyond earshot. “Did you see that? In Ephron’s name, did I just see that?”
“It’s hunger,” Takeo replied, but without confidence. “Everyone’s going insane, that’s all. Just a little bit longer and it will all be over. Come on, let’s go. You need to get back to Yeira. Never leave her alone again, do you hear me?”
“Like I need to be told that,” Gavin said and shuddered. “What are you going to do, Takeo?”
“The plan is unchanged. We fight and survive as long as we can. You and Yeira get to safety, and—” He paused, stopping in his tracks as a thought struck him suddenly. Then he smirked, which grew into a grin, and despite himself, a quiet chuckle escaped his lips. Gavin turned his astonished face on the samurai.
“I just realized we won’t be able to find out who Eun wrote that letter to now,” Takeo said, “and for a moment, I worried what Lord Virote Yang would say. But then I remembered it doesn’t matter, because we’re all going to die anyway, and I was relieved. How strange a feeling is that?”
Gavin’s response was silenced by one particularly large crash against the side of the fort, and they both flinched. They paused, waiting to hear Katsu’s army cheer, but the boulders didn’t stop.
They haven’t broken through yet, but they’re getting close.
“I think we have bigger issues at hand than whatever Lord Virote had in mind,” Gavin said. “If we do get out of this alive, you’re going to have to explain how your subordinates killed a noble.”
“A bridge I will gladly cross, if I get to it.”
Takeo left Gavin at Yeira’s door. He got a peek inside, only to see Yeira leaning against the wall with a hollow look in her eyes. She looked frailer than last Takeo remembered, with thinning hair and gaunt eyes, and the look on her face was worse than Takeo recalled. The only healthy spot on her body appeared to be her swollen belly, by now lurching out towards her knees as she sat. Takeo thought she must not have long, perhaps only a couple months. He grabbed Gavin by the forearm and nodded in her direction. The knight grimaced.
“The pregnancy is getting rough,” he said. “She’s having trouble keeping food down. It makes her sick. Apparently it’s quite common in the beginning and end of any pregnancy. And her stomach is hot to the touch. I think she's got a fever, but her head is cool.”
Takeo furrowed his eyebrows. He didn’t remember Yeira being sick at all in the beginning of all of this, but he decided not to comment. Who was he to know? He went to leave without saying anything when Gavin caught his attention.
“Hey, do me a favor,” the knight said. “Check on Krunk. I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“Believe it or not, I was going to do just that. After what just happened, I think it will be best that no one goes alone anywhere.”
The fort wasn’t big by any means, and after so much time spent do nothing inside, Takeo thought himself well versed in the stone structure’s layout. However, in spite of this, he still found tracking down Krunk a difficult endeavor. He checked all the normal locations people were known to hide, those with large rooms, crates for seating, or crude furniture erected from left over wood. He checked the well and the privy, twice, and still nothing. Stumped, he began to walk the darkened halls where light did not touch, scanning each room and calling for the ogre. He even returned to the center of the fort and climbed the ladders just to peek out at the roof. On the way, he felt his stomach flip at the sight of Lord Eun’s corpse, and Kuniko sitting comfortably in the pool of coagulating blood.
Takeo wasn’t sure what to think about that. The fact that he never saw Eun’s death as a possible outcome struck him to his core. He should be better at reading people than that, at least when it came to murderous intentions. He needed to tread carefully.
After searching the fort over once and finding nothing, a brief panic gripped him that Krunk had made a run for it. He shook his head, though, because that just wasn’t possible, so he doubled back and searched again, this time thoroughly. Rather than glance into each room, he resolved himself to enter and scan the entire place, as if Krunk were not a monstrously tall figure who breathed heavy and drooled often. He also stopped bothering to shout for the ogre, instead sneaking into each room as silently as his ninja training would allow.
He almost missed the ogre a second time, in the room where Nicholas had been digging a shallow tunnel, if not for the fact that a boulder struck at just the right time and a tiny clod slipped off the pile of dirt Nicholas had made, and a shimmer of purple revealed itself.
Takeo sighed, walked over, and scooped a pile of dirt away. Two tusks popped out, smeared black with saliva and dirt. He scraped again, and his hands raked across Krunk’s ugly face. The ogre snarled and snorted.
“Ow,” the ogre said. “You scratched my eyes.”
The pile of dirt now had a talking head, one with sunken yellow eyes and hairless skin. Takeo folded his arms across his chest and cocked his head.
“What in the world are you doing, Krunk?” he asked.
The ogre looked left, right, and then down. “Hiding,” he mumbled.
“From what?” Takeo asked.
“From you,” he replied, and Takeo would have been lying if he said that admonition didn’t sting. “I heard you calling, so I hid. But then it got quiet. I can’t hear the thuds so good under here. So Krunk fell asleep. It’s cool, too, like Lucifan was.”
“Well, uh,” Takeo paused to swallow the pain back down his throat. “I’m sorry I disturbed your sleep. But, why did you hide from me?”
Krunk shrugged, making the dirt pile shift and slide away to reveal parts of his shoulders.
“I thought you wanted to talk, and I couldn’t think of anything to say,” he replied. “You always seem to know the right words. Krunk never thinks of the right words until the next day, but then it’s too late. I thought maybe if I hid, I could think up something good to say, and then we could talk. And Krunk wouldn’t look so stupid then.”
“You’re not stupid, Krunk,” Takeo said. “You’re as smart as any ogre can be. And besides, how could you think up something good to say when you didn’t know what I wanted to talk about?”
Krunk paused and blinked. “I don’t know. Can you give me a day to think about it?”
Takeo shook his head. He reached up and began to scoop away piles of dirt from about the ogre’s wide, if slightly diminished, figure. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you out of there.”
He found one of Krunk’s four-fingered hands and tugged the ogre from the mound. Too weak and apathetic to resist, Krunk tumbled out into the open and shook the dirt from his body. Takeo had to stop and admire how thoroughly the ogre had covered his hulking mass in such a short time, and all by himself, and was of a mind to ask when Krunk frowned.
“I’m glad Emy was captured,” he said. “At least she’ll be okay.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Takeo lied.
“I hope she sees me fight. How long until we fight?”
“Not long, Krunk. Don’t worry, they’ll come for us soon. This old stone fort won’t hold out much longer.”
The ogre paused and looked at his feet.
“Krunk is sorry for fighting with you,” he said. “He knows you just wanted to help.”
