Takeo's Chronicles, page 94
His whole world went dark and deaf, and Takeo couldn’t breathe for what seemed far too long. His lungs refused to expand, his hands and legs were numb, and everything was a blur. He squeezed his hand to draw in warmth and strength from his sword, but his fingers closed on nothing but air. Raw fear pulsed down the length of his body, and his eyes came into focus to star out along the ground at his empty palm.
My sword. Where did it go? No, please no.
He was lying on two dead samurai. The blood that leaked from their armor soaked ground and caked Takeo’s outstretched arm in muddy soil. He cracked his neck as he strained to look elsewhere, sweeping the landscape for his blade. He saw nothing but blue sandals and spear tips, and yet they weren’t moving forward. He clawed a handful of dirt, trying to get purchase, trying to force himself to a stand, but the pain crippled him at every move.
Finally, his lungs expanded, and precious life-giving air flowed into his body. Takeo gasped deep then coughed, which send shooting spirals through his body. A single, involuntary twitch told him at least two ribs had broken.
“I’m sorry, my ronin rival,” came a deep, throaty voice, which was followed by heavy footsteps, and a large, horned shadow fell over him. “You are too dangerous to survive. I can’t let you threaten all we stand to gain.”
Takeo turned over on the backs of the dead to see Borota standing calm and determined above him, his kanabo held up in both hands. The oni was bleeding from more wounds than Takeo, but he seemed not to care. The entire Katsu army was stuck in place, having taken a step back, with every mouth agape in total silence. The only sounds that elicited from beyond were those of battle so far in the distance, that it was clear the issuers weren’t around to witness this grand betrayal. Takeo swallowed, tasting globs of blood, and tried to pull himself away again, only to fall back as pain wracked him. It hurt just to breathe.
Borota drew in a large breath and lifted his kanabo high. For a moment, everything went quiet, except for the quiet pounding of someone running at full speed, weighed down in metal.
The oni roared as he slammed his club down with all his might, and Takeo looked away and threw up an arm on instinct. His entire body went tense, and he heard the brutal sound of the kanabo’s metal studs crashing down with a heavy thud. He held his breath, in anticipation of the pain, the death, but he tensed for an entire second and felt nothing.
Shocked, Takeo drew in a tiny breath and opened his eyes.
The kanabo was frozen in place just one body away from Takeo’s head. Borota was still grunting, pushing down with all his might, yet could move the club no further.
Because between Takeo and the oni’s weapon, knelt a handsome knight with his shield braced overhead.
“Gavin?” Takeo whispered, and then winced in pain. “What are you—no. You can't be here.”
“Can you shut up for five seconds?” Gavin responded, straining and sweating under the oni’s attempts to crush him. “We’re trying to save your life.”
“We?” Takeo croaked.
A glorious battlecry echoed out across the skies, and Nicholas Stout soared into Takeo’s view, maul held two-handed over his head and legs pulled up for additional height. The viking thundered through the air behind Borota and swung his maul at the same time, the solid block of metal connecting with the back of the oni’s skull so hard that Takeo heard the bones shatter, and Borota howled as his entire red body went limp.
The oni collapsed onto one knee, and his kanabo club slid off Gavin’s shield to clatter harmlessly into the blood-soaked ground. Gavin stood up, but didn’t move from his sheltering location over Takeo. Nicholas hit the ground and skidded to a stop, turning with a leap and a roar that matched the pain in Borota’s.
“Got him! I got him!” Nicholas laughed. “I downed a—”
Nicholas’ grin disappeared as Borota punched the ground and reeled up to full height. The oni brought his kanabo around for a swing, but his inhuman roar was matched by another barreling towards him. The oni spun just in time to meet Krunk’s charge, catching the ogre’s massive cleaver with his kanabo. Gavin seized the moment and darted forward, spearing his longsword into Borota’s side and ripping it free, spraying black blood across the ground. Nicholas was a half second behind and lunged forward to swing his maul in a deathly arc, connecting with the oni’s knee and sweeping the foot clean from the ground. Borota hit the dirt again, shrugged off Krunk’s attack, and slammed a fist into the ogre’s stomach. Krunk gaffed and tumbled back, despite his size, and Borota stood up again whilst sweeping his kanabo back defensively. Gavin and Nicholas, who’d both gone in for a second blow, were forced back.
“Krunk,” Gavin shouted. “Are you okay?”
The ogre shook his head and stood up, dragging his massive sword with him. The entire blade was splattered in blood, with bits of blue cloth stuck into the nooks and crannies of the weapon’s terrible form.
“I’m angry,” Krunk replied.
Borota raised his club and held it ready for a swing, but paused as his milky-white eyes swept the situation. Gavin, Nicholas, and Krunk surrounded him on three sides, all poised to strike with equal vigor. He looked to each until his eyes fell on Takeo, and there they stayed.
“Now!” Gavin shouted.
Borota roared and charged for Takeo, swinging his club low as if to fling him in the air. Takeo took cover among the bodies, but it was Gavin that saved him, as the knight dropped down and planted his shield in the dirt and sunk behind it as a barrier. With a slight tilt, the kanabo slammed into the heavy metal like a gong and then ricocheted overhead, flailing wildly in the air. Nicholas and Krunk closed the distance and swung their monstrous weapons with all their brutish strength. Borota released his kanabo with one hand to catch Nicholas’ maul, shielding his face from the blow, but Krunk’s heavy cleaver took him square in the back, hacking open a chunk of flesh and flinging black blood across the grass. Borota howled and flinched, and that momentary loss of time cost him dearly.
Gavin attacked from the ground, standing and lunging in the same motion to pierce Borota’s chest. As the oni let go of Nicholas’ weapon to swing for the knight, the maul came back with a vengeance and struck the red beast’s knee. The oni hit the ground, and Krunk’s cleaver came flying overhead, ripping down Borota’s spine just as Gavin’s longsword sliced open his belly. The oni made a swing to bash them away, but not fast enough. Gavin and Nicholas dodged, and Krunk kicked the swing aside, and then descended on him with their weapons, slashing, stabbing, and bashing the oni to the ground. Black blood pooled like a marsh and stained everything in sight. Borota hunched over, hardly able to keep his footing, and Nicholas brought a full blow onto the creature’s head. The maul smashed the skull, spilling brains, black blood, and bones, yet as he hit the ground, Borota continued to breathe and claw the dirt with his hands. Nicholas wasted no time and swung again, smashing his maul down on Borota’s head, and then again, again, and again. Like battering away at a rock, the oni’s head cracked only slightly from each blow, until finally Nicholas’ maul struck a blow and burst the head completely.
Borota hit the dirt, and the metal hammer sunk into the black soil. The oni’s head was no more.
The silence following was deafening, despite the heavy breathing from the four remaining warriors, and the sounds of distant screaming and clashing in the distance. Gavin, Nicholas, and Krunk were all sweating profusely, dripping black with oni blood, and heaving in air through dry-mouth mouths.
“I did it,” Nicholas said, eyes-wide. “That’s it. That’s my name.” He looked to the others. “I’m Nicholas Stout the Immortal Slayer! Did anyone see that?”
As if on cue, they all lifted their heads from the immediate scene to see that they were still surrounded by a sea of samurai in blue. The ranks had closed in on them, spears and swords pointed in their direction like a deathly curtain. They’d seemed content to let the events play out before them, yet were now taking an active interest in finishing things. They were all grinning, and Takeo noticed a new figure standing on his feet at the edge of the crowd.
“Well, well, well,” Lord Botan said, stepping forward and distancing himself from his own men. “If that wasn’t the most interesting thing I’ve seen in months. It’s almost as interesting as finding out your weakness, Takeo—almost.”
Lord Botan smiled and leveled the sword in his hands at Takeo and his friends. It was a simple katana of modest design, with a black handle. It was covered in dried, charred blood, with tiny flames licking along its edge.
Takeo's heart stopped.
Chapter 31
“So this is how you so effortlessly slaughtered all my men,” Lord Botan said, shaking his head. “And to think I almost bought into all the legends of the Karaoshi family skill.”
Gavin, Nicholas, and Krunk formed up over Takeo, putting their backs together. Takeo struggled to stand with his broken, battered, bleeding bodied, and gladly accepted Gavin’s arm to pull himself up. He grabbed a fallen katana on the ground and leaned back against his friends. He held the borrowed sword out towards the shogun, against his own blade, and felt all the remaining warmth in his body seep out. Cold chills ran down his spine, and he could only breathe in shallow gasps.
“I can’t believe this power I’m feeling,” Lord Botan whispered, which was heard clearly over the clamor in the far distance. “I’d heard rumors from ninjas, some speculation on you dealing with jinn in Savara, but I never imagined they were true. You still bleed after all. But this? Quite extraordinary, I must say. What did you trade for it?”
“Nothing of interest,” Takeo replied, flat. “It won’t harm you at all, I promise.”
The shogun froze and his eyes snapped to Takeo, a momentary look of apprehension seizing him. It didn’t last, though, and the look of fear passed. He smiled again in his typical charming fashion.
“That was good,” he said. “I almost believed you for a second. I also almost want to spare, if for nothing else than to say thank you. With this sword, I think my conquest of Juatwa will be inevitable. You may not see it now, Takeo, but you’ve helped the world over by giving me this weapon. Juatwa will finally know peace, and you should die with the knowledge that you were a part of it.”
Lord Botan took in a deep breath, and his limbs trembled. Takeo imagined the power flowing through the man’s body, pumping through his veins and instilling him with abilities unreachable by any other means. His body took on a dark hue, as if an aura surrounded him that bent light away. When he opened his eyes, Takeo could see the flames had consumed him. There would be no stopping him now.
The shogun stepped forward, as did all his samurai and komainu troops on every side.
“You fool, Gavin,” Takeo whispered, struggling just to stay upright. “Why did you come? Now we’re all going to die.”
“You have a funny way of saying thank you, you know?” Gavin replied. “How was I to know you were going to disobey your own rules and let go of your sword?”
“It was forced,” Takeo bit back. “I didn’t do it on purpose, and you’re still a fool for coming. You’ll die now, and your child is going to grow up without a father, assuming she gets to grow up at all. I told you to stay hidden. Why did you disobey me?”
“Because for once, I know something you don’t,” the knight replied and then cleared his throat. “Lord Botan! Before you kill us and gloat over our dead bodies, I suggest you take a moment to consider your surroundings.”
The shogun paused and tilted his head. His wicked smile took on an intriguing edge, and the rest of his army slowed their advance.
“I can’t believe I’m about to robbed of a glorious death,” Nicholas muttered.
“Pay no attention to the ugly one,” Gavin shouted out, “and I’m not talking about the ogre. Do you hear those distant sounds of battle, Lord? Do you notice anything odd about them?”
Botan seemed confused. He frowned at Gavin.
“No,” he said. “The only thing I find strange is that they’re still going on. Your troops must be putting up a strong defense, but I’ll put an end to that. I look forward to testing out this sword’s full abilities on them.”
A chuckle swept through the Katsu army, and Takeo clenched his teeth. He leaned hard against Gavin.
“Will you not let us die with some dignity?” he whispered.
Gavin ignored him.
“Lord Botan,” the knight spoke out again, voice still raised to an appreciative level, “I don’t think you took enough time to listen properly. Are you certain those distant battle cries sound like a half dozen fighters in a stone fort?”
The laughter went quiet as Gavin persisted, and Botan took a moment to listen again. Takeo, for the first time, decided to as well. He took a moment to listen to the distant clamor that hadn’t stopped since the battle began.
Instantly, Takeo noticed that it was quiet louder than before, and closer.
Closer? How could it be closer? And why is it coming from everywhere?
He heard screams and the clang of metal approaching, coming off center from the fort’s direction. There were roars, komainu roars, which sent a chill up his spine, because he didn’t think any of Katsu’s komainu troops had joined the assault. On top of that, he heard commanding shouts coming through on the wind, indiscernible from this distant, yet they were growing louder, and one voice pierced their silence.
“Retreat!” it shouted.
Lord Botan’s grin slipped away, and his lips parted as he met Gavin’s gaze.
“What is happening?” he asked.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Gavin replied. “I’m stalling you.”
The distant clamor rose, and suddenly it wasn’t so distant anymore. Clangs, screams, shouts, and roars were upon them at every end, and an indiscernible force pushed against the entire Katsu army surrounding Takeo and the others. The yelling became audible, and words formed in terror and alarm.
“Retreat! Fall back!” someone yelled, among other calls of, “Forward! Slay them all!”
Lord Botan turned to the nearest soldier mounted on a komainu, a man frozen with mouth agape and eyes focused on something not too far away.
“What is it?” the shogun yelled.
“Sir,” the soldier stammered in disbelief. “It’s the Hanu. They’ve come!”
“What?” Botan gaped.
Gavin yelled, “Nicholas!” and grabbed Takeo and fell to the ground, dragging the samurai with him.
Nicholas whirled around with his maul held out, using the momentum to fling his weapon like a sling. He released it at the perfect time, and the weapon flew straight and true over Takeo’s head and into Lord Botan’s back, slamming with such force that it sent the shogun straight into the ground, and Takeo’s family sword flying off into the Katsu army.
“Lord! Protect our lord!” the soldier on the komainu shouted. “Grab him and the sword! Retreat! Fall back. Go, go, go!”
The ranks closed up, spears out and pointed at the four warriors still grouped up.
“No!” Takeo shouted and went to sprint for where his sword had flown, but Gavin’s grip held him firm.
“Don’t be stupid, Takeo,” the knight shouted.
“But my sword.”
“Is lost.”
Just at that moment, the distant sounds of battle burst and rolled over them, and the sea of blue gave way to an army of red. Mounted komainu warriors in Hanu colors raked through the lines of Katsu troops, spraying fresh blood and bodies on the ground. The Katsu army broke and ran. A trio grabbed Botan’s stunned body and tossed him to his komainu guard, and they turned and bolted to the rear. One of the komainu carried a black blade, wreathed in charred blood. The rest of the Katsu army formed up and retreated, but not fast enough as yet more samurai in red laminar armor burst onto the scene, cutting and slicing their way through the masses. All around Takeo, Hanu soldiers rolled over him, saturating the air with battle maddened cries and shouts of victory, a thing only achievable when pursuing a full rout. Swords flashed and killed Katsu troops left and right. Takeo ducked and pressed close to his friends, trying to avoid being trampled as the Hanu army ran past him, chasing after the Katsu blue.
“Drive them to the sea!” a voice shouted, young and full of energy.
Above the flood of red that streamed by Takeo in exuberant numbers, he spied a group of komainu in regal attire approaching at a light gallop. A skilled, confident, watchful guard surrounded a young boy of perhaps no older than a decade and a half, with hazel eyes and smooth skin, who seemed as nonthreatening as a kitchen maid, were it not for the thousands of death-dealing soldiers at his command.
Lord Nobu Hanu was grinning like mad, and he had his sword out and pointed toward the retreating Katsu forces, though the blade was clean. Upon spying Takeo, he jerked the reins of his mounted and waded through his still charging army. He approached with all the regal bearing of his birth, mixed in the exuberance of youth and the elation of total victory.
“Takeo Karaoshi,” Nobu shouted over the thunder of his stampeding army.
“My lord,” Takeo replied, struggling to stand, only just to bow. He couldn’t go as deep as honor demanded with broken ribs. “You made it. How?”
“As I understand it, I have you to thank for that,” Nobu replied, and then waved at one of his komainu guard. The samurai nodded and pulled to the side.
A small ogre child peered out from behind the soldier’s back.
Takeo gaped, as did Gavin and Nicholas. Krunk broke from their group and threw open his arms.
“Emy!” he shouted.
“Father!” she shouted back, and leapt from the komainu’s back to rush into the ogre’s arms.
Krunk gripped her tight and pulled her into the air, spinning and laughing. Emy giggled back, seemingly undisturbed by Krunk’s uncontrollable drool that mixed with the black oni blood on his purple skin. He danced in circles with her, and Takeo couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
