by Ryan Kirk
“I know that, but it doesn’t make my feeling any less horrible.”
“I’m sorry, but this has to be done.”
Takako couldn’t control herself any longer. She whispered violently, “I know that! I know we are stuck here on this path, but it will lead us all to ruin. I know it doesn’t make sense, but it’s what is in my heart.”
Ryuu held her like it was the last embrace he would ever be able to give her. He wanted to give her peace but didn’t know how. “I will be back. I promise it. We’re just going to go scout it out and decide upon our next steps.” He let her go and walked away. “I love you, you know.”
Takako nodded wearily. “I know you do. Please come back.”
Ryuu nodded and turned away. He wasn’t sure he could keep going if he stayed near her.
He met with Moriko and they moved through the woods towards the scout outpost. Ryuu was thrilled by the feeling of hunting with another nightblade. As they drew within visible range of the scouts they halted and whispered. They had sensed other outposts as well, each having overlapping areas of visibility. If they were going to sneak by they would need to wait until dark.
With nightfall near at hand they sat and waited. Ryuu took the time to calm himself and focus his sense. He crawled through the outposts searching forward. He lost the sense of his immediate surroundings in favor of understanding what lied ahead. He didn’t worry, Moriko was alert to changes in their vicinity. He continued forward and found what he was looking for, a garrison, a bright glow of life at the edges of what he could reach with his sense. It was small and seemed to hold less life than he had expected. But they were active, pacing back and forth. They were nervous.
He came back to himself and to the state of awareness which brought in information from nearby. It was a difficult transition to make, and he did it slowly. As soon as he had the attention to spare, the question came full force to his mind. Why would seasoned warriors be nervous when they were on guard duty?
The answer came right after the question. They knew Ryuu was coming. But did they know that he was here? If so, they had already walked right into a trap.
Moriko caught his excitement and raised an eyebrow.
“They know we’re coming, or maybe even that we’re here,” Ryuu said. He explained what he had sensed.
Moriko listened and took a moment to think. “It doesn’t change the situation. We still need to get close enough to know what we’re up against. Orochi is the only one with the sense in this area besides us and I haven’t felt his presence at all.”
“Would you?”
“Probably. It seems more likely he anticipated you coming after him and is set up in a defensible position, or is using it as a decoy to attack you from behind. Either way, he’s around, and we need to know what’s in front of us.”
Ryuu reluctantly agreed with Moriko. A part of him wanted to go back to Takako, to ensure she was safe. She might be in greater danger than he had thought. But the facts were still the same and their decision had to be carried through.
Fortunately, as the sun fell the clouds rolled in and the almost full moon was covered by a blanket of darkness. Moriko and Ryuu moved like ghosts through the woods, passing between guard posts without raising an alarm. They moved into a short clearing where all the tress had been cut down. Ryuu pushed forward with his sense and felt a second ring of guard posts on the other side of the clearing.
Ryuu approved of the simple genius of the plan. Whoever had designed this outpost knew their strategy. They needed wood for the building, and cut it all down in a perimeter around the outpost, creating a clearing that archers could see through. Any attacking force would have to walk through a potential rain of arrows with no cover.
The clearing was filled with tall grass which Ryuu and Moriko knelt in crawled through. The grass wasn’t tall enough to hide a man, but it provided sufficient cover on the pitch-dark night. Moriko and Ryuu made it through and found a concealed place in the forest. Both of them could sense the number of guards around them, but no one seemed to have noticed them.
They slipped into their roles. Ryuu pushed his sense outward and Moriko focused on their immediate surroundings. There were no surprises and plenty of information. Ryuu’s sense traveled up and down the outpost, making quick calculations as to the number of people present, the size, and the layout of the fort.
But where was the snare? Ryuu continued questing with his sense and found it in the middle of the town. Or more accurately, he found nothing. In the middle of everything he found a hole of nothingness, an emptiness and a blackness against his consciousness.
Ryuu retreated back to himself. “He’s there, right in the center.”
Ryuu related everything he had sensed. “Why is everyone so afraid? Who do they think we are?”
“It’s not who they think we are, it’s what they believe about us. You attacked a monastery and killed a fair number of the monks inside. I’m sure the story has grown by now. I don’t think you understand the reverence the common people hold for the monks. They probably view you as a monster.”
“Well, that’s comforting.”
With just a trace of regret in her voice, Moriko responded. “You haven’t spent much time in the world. I haven’t either, but I am familiar with the power of the monasteries, having seen it firsthand.”
For a while the two sat huddled together whispering about a plan of attack. They couldn’t reach an agreement, but every so often Ryuu would return to his meditative state, focusing on the fort. The pattern of the guards was a standard army movement with about twelve day watches and twelve night watches. With the limited number of soldiers it felt like many were pulling multiple watches, which would make them less observant.
The sun was just beginning to rise when they decided they had enough information, and Ryuu was focusing his sense one last time on the fort when he felt the disturbance. Violent actions by the gate. He threw out his sense as far as he could and just barely touched a white-hot ball of anger and fear. His sense collapsed around him as he lost focus and he felt like throwing up. It couldn’t be true, yet he was certain.
Takako was down in the fort. She had been found and captured.
There wasn’t any way.
Ryuu’s mind raced. It could be a trap of some sort. He didn’t know if it was possible, but perhaps it was possible to simulate the sense of someone else. He wished Shigeru was alive to tell him what was possible, what was logical.
The whole army was up and drilling in the pre-morning light. Orochi was awake, the darkness deep in the center of the town. They couldn’t attack now. They would all be killed, and Ryuu didn’t know if it was even Takako. He was unwilling to believe his own sense. He needed to know.
“We need to get back to the camp right away.”
Moriko didn’t question him, even when he got up and began running with abandon. He ran right up to the nearest tree stand and climbed up in three graceful paces, pulling himself up smoothly even as the archers were beginning to react, startled by the presence of another person. His blade flashed twice and all three people dropped from the tree. Two bodies struck lifelessly on the ground while Ryuu landed softly on his feet and sprinted through the grass.
Moriko followed him. One archer in a nearby stand attempted to take a shot, but Ryuu and Moriko were moving fast at a difficult angle, and the arrow passed harmlessly between them. Within a handful of breaths they had fallen into the second ring of trees, pursued only by the sound of alarm bells ringing throughout the forest. If nothing else, Moriko thought, they had lost their element of surprise.
Both Ryuu and Moriko noted the guards in the trees in the second ring had disappeared, but Ryuu did not stop to investigate. He charged forward, fear for Takako lending him a speed he didn’t know he possessed.
They reached the camp and Ryuu dropped to his knees. The camp looked orderly, but it was deathly quiet.
Takako was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Takako was at a crossroads,
torn apart by indecision. Her feelings towards Ryuu were complex. He was a good man and she knew he always meant well. He could be trusted to take the action he believed was right. Perhaps there wasn’t much more she could ask for in this world. Perhaps there was a future with him.
But she could not shake her anger at Ryuu. She knew he was doing his best, but his decisions had brought death to her family. As much as she understood, she couldn’t bring herself to forgive. She wasn’t sure she ever could.
Takako had stayed with Ryuu because it was the easy way out. All she had to do was follow. But this wasn’t her life. She had loved adventure stories growing up, but in reality they were brutal and dark, not as great as the stories made them sound.
She was laying down against a rock which provided a solid back rest. As her thoughts ran away, the evening sun came out, warming her cold body. It brought her thoughts into the light again. She had always been optimistic and her time with Ryuu was ruining her.
In a single moment she knew she was going to leave. There wasn’t any need for doom to follow her. She was a beautiful, well educated lady. The last cycle had been a cycle of change, but there wasn’t any reason she couldn’t start her own life anew. She didn’t owe Ryuu anything.
Her mind raced with possibilities and she felt lighter than she had in many moons. She would want to leave the Southern Kingdom, but there wasn’t anything for her here. Maybe she could start a restaurant. Everyone liked her cooking.
Takako packed up what little she possessed. In a moment of hesitation she decided to write a short note. It read, “Thank you, Ryuu, for everything, but this isn’t the life for me. Please don’t search for me. This is what I want, and I will always be grateful.”
It wasn’t all true, but it was a kindness she could leave him. He deserved that much at least.
With one last glance at the camp Takako took off, her footsteps light and her heart excited. Ahead of her lay a myriad of options. She chose to go north. If her understanding of their position was correct it would send her to the Western Kingdom. There she would start a new life.
The moon was high in the sky when she walked across a wide path, paying little attention to her surroundings. She heard the shouts of recognition and turned and there was a squad of soldiers walking right into her.
Takako moved to run, but the soldiers were well trained. Despite her rush of adrenaline, she was apprehended before she could take three paces. The soldiers found two leather straps and tied one tightly around her wrists and one connecting her ankles. She would be able to walk without problems, but she would not be able to run. Without a word they started marching towards the fortress.
The soldiers did not seem to bear her any particular malice. They kept their pace slow so Takako wasn’t stumbling over the roots and bushes in the last light of the evening. She was grateful for that much, but wasn’t able to focus her emotions on much of anything. The fear churned her stomach and made her legs numb, threatening her ability to walk. There was only death within the fortress, which made taking every step up to it that much harder.
When the fort came into view, she finally lost her determination, her pride. She fell to the ground, and although part of her wanted to have the spirit to walk into the fort on her own two feet, she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t will her legs to move, and she began crying, hot tears running down her face, oblivious to anyone who might see or might care.
She couldn’t see the pained look on the soldier’s faces, but she did feel the strong hands lift her and place her on a soldier’s shoulder. She was carried like a sack of rice into the fort. She couldn’t summon the strength or the will to resist, but she did leave a trail of tears and rage behind her.
Once inside the fort the soldiers took her to a short, stout building with thick, solid walls. She deduced it was a prison of some sort, built to hold deserters and criminals until justice could be dealt. She was deposited in a small room, her bonds left on. A thick, stout door was shut behind her and Takako could hear the sounds of a thick bar being shut behind it. It was almost enough to make her laugh. They were afraid enough of her to make sure she wouldn’t escape. Or, she supposed more hopefully, they were more afraid of who may come to get her.
The hope buoyed her spirits. If Ryuu was scouting the fort he would come for her. But what if he wasn’t? She had been walking for quite a while before she’d been captured. If he went back and saw her note, maybe he wouldn’t search for her. She couldn’t bear the thought she had doomed herself. Ryuu would come. It was the only hope she had.
That thought, Ryuu would come, became her mantra. She repeated it to herself, over and over, and was repeating it when she heard movement on the other side of the door. She couldn’t hear any orders being given, but she could hear the bar being lifted and the door being unlatched.
She didn’t expect to see Orochi standing there, his large frame filling the entire doorway. He stepped in and motioned for the guards to shut the door. Takako did not hear them latch it or put the bar down, which made her wonder what Orochi intended. The fear began to grip her again, but she kept it under control by continuing to think about Ryuu coming.
Orochi looked at her, studying her for a couple of moments. It was as though he was in her head. “It is good you think of him. If you plan to live, you must keep your hope. It will be what keeps you alive in here.”
Takako blinked away her surprise. She had never heard Orochi speak before, and although he had a deep, booming voice, it sounded more like he was trying to comfort her than threaten her. This from the man who had killed Shigeru in cold blood.
Orochi continued to peer into her thoughts at will.
“I suspect there is more to me than you realize. When we are confronted with an enemy, we often seize the opportunity to dehumanize them. I know Shigeru was a friend of yours, but he wronged me.”
Takako found her voice. “So he said.”
Orochi tilted his head in interest. “Did he? I would have loved to hear his accounting of events.”
Takako decided that retelling the story from Shigeru’s perspective wasn’t in her best interests as a captive, and so she remained silent.
“You know he was responsible for the death of someone I cared for.”
Even here, imprisoned, Takako couldn’t believe the justifications the men around her used for killing each other. “Your violence only begets more violence. Now that you have killed him, his student will come for you. All of you create a cycle there is no escape from. For as strong as you all are, you are too weak to find a different path.”
Orochi nodded. “That may be true. Some would argue we are fated to it.”
“A person makes their fate. They can always choose a different path. The paths that doom you are of your own choosing.”
Orochi leaned back against the door of her cell. “You are intelligent. I have respect for Shigeru’s boy and the power he possesses. I see the company he keeps is indicative of his quality as well. For what it is worth, I am sorry it has come to this.”
He paused and then continued. “I have come to offer you an option, a way out.”
Takako’s heart leapt for a moment, unable to think of what such a way may entail.
He motioned for her to calm down. “It is not what you think. I am honor-bound to an oath I made to Lord Akira. You will die today, have no doubt about it. What I come to offer you today is a quick death, a warrior’s death. General Nori is taken with alcohol and has not been able to shake the demon which poisons his mind. He is, literally, mad with grief over the death of his son, and I suspect you will become the victim of that anger unless you take action.”
“I consider myself to be an honorable man. To protect his realm, Lord Akira ordered your death, and I shall see that through as I promised him. But torture and whatever Nori has planned for you this afternoon, is not honorable. It is the product of a weak mind. I will take your head, right here and now, if you wish it.”
Takako’s stomach felt like it had dropped f
rom her body. To choose death over torture seemed like the worst two options she could choose between. She thought of her father, stuck between selling his daughter and losing everything. There had to be a way out of this cycle. She had to hold out hope that Ryuu would come for her. She had to hold on and be strong. He would be here before that happened.
Orochi shook his head. “I sense your hope. The boy will come. Of that I have little doubt. He fights as an honorable man must. He will come after you, but he will have to wait until nightfall. There is no way to approach this fort by day. There are too many archers, and even with his skills he will need the cover of night to reach the fort. By then, it may be too late.”
Takako wanted to call him a liar, to throw his words back in his face as Ryuu strode through the door to her cell at just that moment. It was an attractive, beautiful dream, but she recognized the ring of truth in his voice. He believed in Ryuu, but he also knew Ryuu was smart and would be forced to wait until nightfall to attack. So her choice was before her. One day of torture or immediate death.
Despite her desire to lay down and cry, she held her head up. She wanted life, and she chose hope. She couldn’t afford not to hope, not here. If she needed to survive torture, survive she would. It was better than giving up.
She didn’t have to answer. Orochi read the decision in her face and in her bearing. He gave her a short bow as a measure of respect. “I did not think the consort of a warrior of Ryuu’s strength would be weak, but it seemed appropriate for me to make the offer. I hope you are not offended. From one warrior to another, I offer you my respect. May your journey to the Great Cycle be sweet.”
Takako barely managed to keep her head up as he left the room. She didn’t have the energy to tell him she wasn’t Ryuu’s consort. As soon as he left she collapsed in a heap, her body unable to support her any longer. The time in her small cell seemed to inflate and slow down until each footstep of the guards felt like an entire cycle had passed. She lost any objective measure of time.