by Travis Bughi
“To tell my advisors how screwed we all are.”
Chapter 4
Takeo used to have only one tent to contend with: where he slept. Lord Nobu had had ownership of all the others, such as the dining tent, bathing tent, entertainment tent, receiving tent, messenger tent, music tent, weapon tent, command tent, writing tent, and conceivably every other noun associated with war or luxury. Now that Nobu was dead, though, all those tents so liberally devised by the Lady Zhenzhen had passed onto Takeo, reluctantly.
They remained just as unused under their new owner as their former, all except the command tent.
Takeo wasn’t just a general of the army now. As Lady Zhenzhen’s rumored fiancé, he was commander and soon-to-be emperor of a soon-to-be conquered land. As much as diplomacy pained him, Takeo needed a place outside his normal sleeping quarters to formulate battle plans and disseminate multiple reports. In addition, the tent needed to be large enough to accommodate all those parties interested in his success, which was a fair number by now. Where once Takeo only met with his close entourage and perhaps one or two daimyo, he now had to make room for over a dozen lords, ladies, their personal advisors, and even their attendants, because heavens forbid that some royal run out wine in their shallow cup.
But this was a small price to pay for warriors and supplies. Above all else, Takeo needed bodies, preferably well-trained and strong bodies, and these daimyo had brought them.
So now Takeo called a meeting. The daimyo wasted no time in flocking to the command tent, and soon Takeo’s command tent was once more a well-stocked room buzzing with gossip and anticipation. Lady Anagarika was there, as was Lord Oiu, and newly risen members of the Choi, Han, Zhao, and Yang families. All were people with a right to hate Takeo, as he had in some way or another caused the death of one or more members of their families, yet here they were. Takeo had Juatwa tradition to thank for that. The constant state of war this land thrived under meant that the conquered were used to shifting alliances to their conquerors, and deaths in the family weren’t immediately seen as a cause for vendetta as much as a door to opportunity. Without murder, it would be hard to advance in Juatwa society.
Like Kuniko had once said: There were plenty eager to follow Takeo into victory; they just needed a reason.
Once all were present, Takeo raised a hand and brought swift silence to the tent. The daimyo watched as the ronin paced to the map in the center, strewn with miniature figures representing the army, and began to shift them about without a word. The map was a representation of Juatwa as a whole, as the war was being waged on that scale, full of little wooden figures representing armies, castles, supply lines, and cavalry. The largest portion had been concentrated at the top about the Nguyen fortress, but more than a few hushed whispers broke out as Takeo grabbed two thirds of this number and scattered them across the map. One portion he swept to the eastern end of the Nguyen lands, the other portion to the west. He paused, then shifted a handful of scouting groups with apathy. He scanned the map, re-counted the new configuration, then spoke aloud.
“Xianliang, in his infinite wisdom, did not murder his two younger brothers,” Takeo said. “Seiji and In-Su are alive and well, and they have each taken a third of the Nguyen forces and holed themselves up in the fortresses of other families, the Phan and Ngo fortresses, respectively. Needless to say, this complicates things. If I try to focus on only one brother at a time, that will leave us open to retaliation from the other two. For all I know, Seiji and In-Su are on their way to attack us right now, and they’d surely win with our forces spread out in a vulnerable pattern. Obviously, this is a risk I can’t afford to take, and scouting groups won’t be enough to give us ample warning. To ensure this war isn’t ended prematurely, I’m dividing up our forces and laying siege to all three cities.”
A muffled shock swept the crowd, though this was to be expected, and Takeo did not address it. The Nguyen fortress alone was impregnable enough to hold off the army Takeo had summoned. How was he going to take two more, and each with a third the original number?
He addressed this unspoken question.
“One of these fortresses will be weaker than the others,” Takeo said. “I will inspect each, personally, and make my decision which is to fall first. Then our forces will re-concentrate, and the original plan will resume. This is nothing but a stumbling block, an attempt to dissuade my efforts—and yours. Do not falter, as others have done in the past, and you’ll partake in the glory you’ve all come to witness.
“Until then, here are my orders. I’m leaving Lady Kuniko here to maintain the siege of the Nguyen fortress, as well as the brute you all love to mention named Nicholas. I expect most of you will want to stay here, as well, as you’ve already set up a fine camp, and that is fine by me. For those of you wishing for a change in scenery, I will be going to the Phan fortress first, where Seiji resides, and Lady Anagarika will accompany me. She’ll oversee the siege there. As for you, Lord Oiu, I’m sending you with Qing to encircle the last place, the Ngo city, where you’ll await my arrival. Do not engage with your brother until I’m there, not even to speak to him. Qadir is a dastardly fellow, and I have no doubts he’ll try to kill you when I’m not around, hence Qing will go with you.”
“My lord, you are as kind as you are wise,” Oiu replied, bowing graciously.
As much as it irked him, Takeo ignored the flattery. He’d learned by now that such comments were too ingrained in Oiu to alter now. He’d survived by such groveling for too long to act differently. Takeo tapped the table once with a knuckle.
“Any questions?” He said and glanced about the tent.
None spoke up.
“Good.”
And with that, the meeting was adjourned. Takeo left the tent with Emy and Gavin behind him. He’d made no mention of them because there had been no need. He commanded more with silence than others could do with words.
Upon returning to his personal tent, Takeo was surprised to find his guards weren’t the first ones to greet him. Instead of concentrating about the entryway, they were spread out, giving wide berth to the small, chubby boy in the center. It took Takeo a half second to recognize Pranav, and another half second to scan the area for Nicholas.
The viking wasn’t far off. He’d found a seat on a small stool next to a weapon rack, where he sat comfortably with arms folded and a wide grin stretched across his face.
Pranav bared his teeth and put a piercing gaze on Takeo. Somewhere, somehow, the boy had acquired another sword, which he held in both hands and at the ready. He stared down the ronin. A couple of the guards chuckled.
Takeo stopped and cocked an eyebrow.
“I challenge you!” Pranav roared, or rather shouted in that high-pitched tone of children who haven’t quite reached puberty.
The guards chuckled again, but one glance from Takeo silenced that. The men straightened and shared looks, suddenly not so sure it was a good idea to allow this lunacy.
Not Nicholas, though. He kept smiling.
“I thought I told you to watch this boy,” Takeo said, coldly.
“I am watching him,” the viking replied. “About to watch him make a fool of himself.”
“Fight me!” Pranav shrieked.
Takeo stomped on, intending to ignore the child. Pranav either mistook that for a charge or didn’t care and raced at Takeo with sword raised. A flash of movement later, and Takeo deflected the blow and laid into Pranav with single open hand, sending the boy crashing to the ground. Takeo never paused in his stride.
“Watch him better next time,” Takeo snarled at Nicholas.
“Fight me,” Pranav moaned from the dirt, pushing up with some difficulty. “You have to fight me. Coward!”
Takeo froze, though in shock rather than anger that anyone could be so stupid as to utter that phrase to him. The sheer defiance in that statement rooted Takeo for a moment, and by then his curiosity was piqued. He glanced at Nicholas again, this time with intrigue.
“Admit it,” Ni
cholas said. “He sure is brave.”
“You have to fight me,” Pranav called out again, struggling to a stand. “All the stories say you’ll accept any challenge to your rule. Well, I challenge you!”
The guards shifted in place. What they once thought a mild joke suddenly had taken a more sinister tone. Knowing Takeo’s reputation, doubtless they feared they were about to witness a murder any moment because, unfortunately, Pranav was right.
“Don’t be stupid, boy,” Takeo said. “I made that law so that my soldiers will always know they’re led by the strongest. I’m not about to cut down every urchin and washroom whore that crawls in front of me, begging for a chance at suicidal glory.”
“I’m the son of a daimyo,” Pranav replied.
He held his sword at the ready, surprisingly steady for the blow Takeo had laid into him. Half of Pranav’s face was completely red.
“I have a right to this challenge, same as everyone else.”
He paused to spit. Takeo imagined the boy’s ears were ringing.
Denying the request would be a trivial thing. No one would question Takeo’s decision to ignore this ridiculousness, but one thing made him pause—the sight of Gavin—and then he knew he had to accept.
I only made that stupid rule for him. If Gavin kills me as the legend foretells, he needs to lead this army, or at least prevent it from falling into another’s hands. And as an ex-knight, he’ll have less claim than this boy right here. I can’t walk away. I do have to accept. Damn it. What a waste of my time. I’ll give this boy a lesson he’ll never forget.
Takeo drew his enchanted sword. Pranav gulped. Nicholas’ smile faltered.
“I mean, you have to admire this sort of bravery,” Nicholas said. “Right, Takeo?”
The ronin ignored him and strode towards Pranav. The boy trembled but did not run. If anything, he rooted in place and readied his blade. Takeo showed no intention of stopping; he wanted this finished as swiftly as possible. Takeo raised his blade just two steps from Pranav, aiming to strike the boy’s forehead with the pommel, and with any luck, knock him out cold for less than a day. He couldn’t hit too hard, however. The boy wasn’t annoying enough to kill—yet.
Pranav raised his own sword and drew in a breath. Takeo thrust down. Pranav dropped his sword and raised his hands, catching Takeo’s handle on the way down.
And that’s when things took an unexpected turn.
Before the blow struck, fiery energy burned through the enchanted blade and into Pranav. The boy’s grip strengthened on the Karaoshi sword, and he ducked with lighting quickness out of the pommel’s path. Takeo stumbled, and Pranav acted on it, yanking the ronin with all his newfound strength. Takeo whirled but stayed standing, nearly losing his grip on his weapon, yet sending a wave of adrenaline, nausea, and even a dash of fear ripping through his formerly lethargic movements.
Pranav lashed out, his fist a blur to the human eye, and Takeo only took the blow so as to stay locked in place. Aided so by inhuman powers, Pranav’s fist hit like a grown man’s, and Takeo snarled as he swallowed the pain, then yanked his sword to him. Pranav was flung forward, unwilling to let go, and Takeo grappled the boy. He tried to pull the sword away, but Pranav screamed and tried to bite Takeo’s arm while keeping a death grip on the enchanted sword. Takeo had to pin the boy down with a knee and twist Pranav’s arm until it nearly broke, just to weaken his double-handed grasp and pull the sword away.
When finally the blade was free and solely in Takeo’s hand again, the ronin’s heart was racing. He stared down at this boy, still pinned to the ground, and both marveled and feared how close that fight had come. Thank the jinn that Takeo was immune to his own blade; something Pranav clearly hadn’t known.
“Smart little bastard,” Takeo said, spitting. “You felt the blade’s power when I put it to your neck, didn’t you? This was just a ploy to get the sword close again. Unfortunately for you, that only made us even.”
Takeo ground his knee into Pranav’s back, as much out of anger at the boy’s plan as frustration at his own ineptitude for letting it happen. Pranav whimpered from the pain.
“I hope you realize the futility of your efforts at this point, but I’m guessing you’re only invigorated by this defeat. Your lineage seems unaffected by things such as logic and sense. So, I’m going to do you a favor. I’m going to carve a reminder into you, the same reminder my enemy carved into me so many years ago. Hold still. This is going to hurt.”
Takeo shoved his knee hard into Pranav’s back, just before the bones broke, and listened for all the air to be expunged from his victim. His screams wouldn’t be so loud then. Takeo took a firm grasp of the boy’s hair and forced his head to the ground, holding him in place, and then reversed his sword.
Carefully, he placed the point on the upper end of Pranav’s left cheek, then pierced the skin and dragged down.
Even with no air and a spine bent to the point of cracking, the pain was too great to keep Pranav silent. He sputtered and mewed, as the blade cut through flesh, burning as it went. Smoke and the stench of burnt flesh wafted from the blade’s path as it carved through the boy’s skin, cauterizing the wound as it went. It was a wonder Pranav didn’t black out, and Takeo finished his artwork in no short amount of time.
The ronin pulled the blade back and let Pranav’s sweat-drenched hair go but did not stand up. He bent down and whispered in the boy’s ear, but spoke loud enough for all to hear.
“This is your reward,” Takeo said, “for all your efforts. Now, every time you see your reflection, or touch your face, or kiss a woman, you’ll remember me and what I did to you. Most people are smart enough to fear me from the start, but not you. So now you can look at this scar and understand: I have no equal. There exist only those above me and those below me. Rest assured, you are inferior, and the only reason you aren’t dead is because I may have to kill your family later. Do not test me again.”
Takeo finally stood up, and Pranav sucked in a lungful of air, only to sputter it out in sobs of pain. No one had moved a muscle since Takeo had drawn his sword, and they continued to stand like statues as he sheathed his blade and continued on his previous path. As he passed by Nicholas, who was no longer smiling, the viking cleared his throat.
“I mean, really, you have to admit that was brave,” Nicholas muttered.
“Damn it, Nicholas,” Gavin whispered, shaking his head. “You should have known.”
Takeo didn’t stop, but he did reply as went by.
“Don’t waste my time with this boy again,” the ronin said. “I have a nation to conquer.”
Chapter 5
“You were surprisingly quiet during that debacle,” Takeo commented. “I forgot you were even there.”
Gavin swirled the wine in his cup and leaned back in his chair. The two warriors were seated side by side as they watched servants pack away the various luxury items in preparation for the trip. As unnecessary as those items were, Takeo didn’t stop the servants. If he did that, they’d have nothing to do, and the constant packing and unpacking of these items was the only time the dust got knocked off them anyway.
“Eh, there wasn’t much I could do,” Gavin replied. “You can’t fix stupid.”
“Wait,” Takeo said after a smirk. “Are you referring to me or the boy?”
“Both,” Gavin answered and drained his cup. “I mean, between you taking him captive and bashing him to the ground, the little lord should have gotten the message. Back in Lucifan, not every pegasus obeyed its rider with the standard measure of training. Some had to be broken, as we call it, and not physically. Some need their spirits crushed because there’s just something in their blood that makes them dangerous. After that, you can build them up however you like, and that’s an important thing for us knights who have a city to protect and laws to enforce. Although I don’t approve of that methodology being used on humans, I understood why you were doing it.
“And on that note, I hope you figured out how stupid you are, too.”
“This is going to be about the duel.”
“It’s always about the duel.”
“But you do know I have the rule in place for you?”
Gavin scoffed.
“Please, Takeo. Rules aren’t less dumb because their outcome is desirable in the short term. This concept you have that anyone can challenge your right to lead through a simple fight is going to be the end of you—and not how you intend it. Look how you almost lost to a damned child. If that boy is smart enough to realize your sword can be used against you, just imagine what an actual intelligent opponent can think of.”
Takeo shrugged first, then looked around. Emy had gone off to relieve herself, but she’d be back soon. If not, he’d seek her out and finish the job he should have done when he first laid eyes on her. Yet Takeo lowered his voice anyway.
“But you see, that’s the thing. People don’t know. Only you and I know, apparently,” Takeo said. “Botan, terrified of bolstering my reputation, didn’t tell anyone that I can’t be harmed by my sword. Unless you’ve whispered the secret by now.”
“My lips are sealed,” Gavin replied. “I don’t want to bolster your reputation either. Besides, as I learned from you, knowledge is power only when you hide it well.”
Their conversation lulled as the two watched the servants labor away. Once upon a time, Takeo would never have stood idle as he watched others work, but authority and its associated perks were an addictive lifestyle. Although Takeo still wore his more common attire and avoided dinner parties, he found himself taking advantage of more practical uses of authority, such as conserving one’s strength and delegating chores like polishing armor and traveling by foot. He had to admit that komainu were excellent modes of transportation, given training.
“Hey, is that who I think it is?” Gavin said, nodding into the distance.
Takeo squinted and discerned a slim girl in black swiftly approaching from the other side of the half-struck camp. Not that they could be seen from here, but Takeo could already picture the perpetual scowl and scarred ears, too.