by Travis Bughi
“Please tell me you’ve quarantined the infected,” he said.
“As best we could, my lord,” Oiu stated hastily, bowing. “That’s why the town is still standing. Those were the only readily available structures away from the camp. But the damage has been done, I’m afraid. New victims are cropping up all the time, and worse, now the soldiers are afraid to be sent to the death camp, as they call it. Infected people are hiding symptoms until it’s too late, and they’ve infected their comrades. The other daimyo and I have moved to a second camp away from the main army so to keep—”
“And you didn’t stop to think that is exactly what Qadir would want?” Takeo snapped, drawing his hand away and glaring at Oiu.
The pale daimyo trembled and shrunk beneath the gaze, flinching as if the ronin might strike him.
“This sounds exactly like a rakshasa’s plan,” Takeo continued, voicing his thoughts out loud more than directing them at Oiu. “It’s a situation where only he can win. On one hand, this city clearly cannot be taken by force, at least not by the force I have now. The human cost would be so great that I wouldn’t be able to assault the other castles. On the other hand, I can’t exactly stick around and try to starve them out, not with my army suffering from a plague. Yet, pulling back is equally dangerous, as now I might bring that plague back to my other armies. And to top it all off, there’s you. If the plague doesn’t kill you, then having you camped off on your own surely will, as any junior ninja with a dull blade could kill you without an army to get through. So, I’ll be forced to keep you nestled in the main army, exposed to a rapidly spreading, lethal disease, which means any attempt to communicate with you will expose me, as well. What’s next? Will Ephron himself descend from the sky to tell me to lay down my weapon and join Qadir’s side?”
“Who, my lord?”
Takeo swore and, in a rare show of emotion, followed it up with a shout and kicked the nearest thing—his komainu. The beast roared in protest; the ferocity of the attack combined with the animal’s trained instincts made it think more serious discipline was coming. The komainu shrank back, as it would have done as a cub when its trainers beat it into submission.
Not a soul moved otherwise. Qing, Oiu, Gavin, and Emy stood perfectly still, as if attempting to blend in with their surroundings.
“Damn it!” Takeo added and whirled back on the Ngo fortress.
Despite his rage, the walls had not faltered.
Then a small huff escaped his lips, like a muffled laugh. Before anyone, even Takeo, could realize what the sound was, a second quickly followed. The third morphed into a low chuckle, which subsided briefly, only to return stronger than before, combined with a snarl-like grin that cut its way across Takeo’s face. Then he was laughing. Full force, bellyaching, maniacal laughter forced its way out from the bowels of Takeo’s psyche as the line between reality and absurdity began to fracture in his mind. The others shared looks, their faces revealing they were more terrified now than before.
“My lord?” Qing ventured.
“Takeo, hey, Takeo,” Gavin whispered none too softly. “You okay?”
The ronin stopped, so abruptly that those around him began to question what they’d seen in the first place. Takeo turned his back on the Ngo fortress.
“I swear, sometimes I’m convinced the world is out to get me,” he whispered, then spoke normally to Oiu. “Take me to this command outpost you’ve set up. I want to see the reports and a map of this place. Maybe we’ll get lucky and Lord In-Su will enjoy sunbathing in the open, within bow distance, right next to a medicine bottle that cures plague.”
Chapter 10
There was some good news. Come to find out, in Lord In-Su’s efforts to draw the Hanu army into a trap, he had left the whole countryside untouched. This part of the Hanu army had access to clean water, some abandoned farmland, and a number of thick forests within walking distance. All of these things could be put to good use, assuming the army could survive a plague.
“Siege engines are a possibility at least,” Takeo said, looking over what info his army had managed to gather. “The way In-Su has been described makes me think he’s the sort of man to keep an escape tunnel open. Unfortunately, that information is useless to us if we don’t know where it is.”
Oiu wasn't helpful here. Despite his knowledge about his brothers, he had never looked at any fortress in his own land with much interest. Like many daimyo, and unlike Takeo, he’d never considered the possibility of having to assault his own people.
“But the damned trebuchets,” Takeo went on, thinking out loud. “How can we build anything within range of the walls with those trebuchets raised up like that? We can’t. That means whatever we build—if we build anything—must be mobile. The walls are too high on that plateau for normal ladders. Rolling towers perhaps? Could they even survive getting to the walls? The land here is so rocky, we’d have to clear a path, which would just put more soldiers in range of enemy weapons before the real fight begins. No, that can’t be the best way. The only clear path leads to the gate, but the angle is so steep, I don’t think we’d be able to push a large enough tower up there. If that were a damned drawbridge or a falling gate, I’d just sneak in and crack the place open like I did the Katsu keep, but not here. Those doors have to be pushed open from the inside, from both sides actually. I'd have to sneak a whole team inside, and they’d never make it. So then, back to siege engines, on wheels. Catapults, it will have to be catapults. Trebuchets may have better range and power, but they can’t be mobile. So, what will it be, then? How will we get these weapons into place, release their load . . . somewhere—it’ll have to be the gate as that’s the only place that can be stormed on foot. How do we get them in place to release against the gate if we’re surrounded on all sides by superior range and power?”
“At night,” Emy cut in.
Her short yet clear breach of her vow of silence surprised even Emy as the group’s focus fell on her. Takeo paused, flicking his gaze to her in time to find her staring over the map just as intently as everyone else had been. Then she pulled back and folded her arms, as if her two-word suggestion had been wrung from her involuntarily.
She can’t help it, Takeo thought. Like me, her mind can’t rest when a problem presents itself. I’ll have to remember that. Deadly though she is, she can still be useful. I’ll bet she’s been wondering what Qadir’s plan is, as well.
“At night?” Gavin repeated.
“There’s a lot that can go wrong in the night,” Qing added, “but that does seem the best option. Combined with mobility, limited sight will reduce the enemy’s advantage in power and range.”
“Yes,” Takeo commented. “It’s decided, then. Until another opportunity presents itself, or this plan becomes unfeasible, that’s what you’ll do. Lord Oiu and Qing, do what you can to stop the sickness from spreading, and in the meantime, build catapults. Aim for light and fast ones, and get teams together drilling their use at night. Keep a watchful eye on the gate and the path to it, however. Once In-Su learns of this plan, he’ll think of a way to counter it. Try and be a step ahead. That would be nice, for once.”
“My lord,” Oiu cut in. “You’re leaving?”
“There’s nothing for me to do here,” Takeo replied. “I have two other fortresses to break. I’ve seen all three fortresses now, and I’ve been away from the first for long enough. It’ll be the most important, too, by my count. I can’t well sit you on the Nguyen throne if I haven’t taken the Nguyen fortress, now can I?”
Oiu lowered his head, which served as a bow but could have been a sign of dejection. It dawned on Takeo that Oiu wanted him to stay, though whether that was due to any feelings of respect or simply because Oiu would rather defer difficult decisions to his general, Takeo couldn’t say—or could he care.
“My lord,” Qing piped up.
She always addresses me like this when she wants something. I don’t know what Gavin means when he says I lack empathy. People—and elves, for that matt
er—are hopelessly predictable. I can read them like a book.
“Yes?” he said.
“My lord, we made a mistake not following your example and burning down the village,” she said. “We’ll be sure to follow your advice and recombine our camp into one for safety. You’ve given your orders as to our next plans, but are there any other observations you can impart?”
Did she just ask me for advice? And in such a formal tone. Things certainly are changing around here, and it’s about damned time. I’d have won this war long ago if people had listened to me like this from the start.
Takeo let his gaze drift to Lord Oiu, but he kept his lips pointed towards Qing.
“Watch him,” Takeo said to her. “Make no mistake; there will be an attempt on his life.”
Oiu swallowed and turned paler than usual. Qing bowed. Some short time later, Takeo, Gavin, and Emy repacked their mounts and set off for the Nguyen fortress.
* * *
If Takeo were ever pressed to provide an opinion, he’d admit that in all his idle dreams of giving up the warrior life and retiring to a small farm somewhere, that somewhere was always the northern part of Juatwa.
It had, in Takeo’s mind, the ideal combination for a peaceful life. Sure, there were constant wars and dangerous creatures, but that was true the world over, and places without those problems usually faced others even more precarious, like scarcity of food, water, or warmth. At least Juatwa was fertile enough that moving around didn’t pose a significant hunger issue, so long as one didn't mind foraging for nuts and berries while new crops took root. And besides, as Oiu had pointed out, the northern end of Juatwa was notoriously difficult to assault, so the wars were far less frequent here than other parts of Juatwa.
There were other benefits, too. Northern Juatwa hit the sweet spot in a number of factors. Being close to the Khaz Mal Mountains, it was rugged and isolated, yet it was close enough to the lusher regions of Juatwa that it wasn’t difficult to seek out civilization. Sure, it snowed in the winter, but not much or for long, and the summer never got unbearably hot either. One could carve out a large swath of land to live on and never encounter a soul for days on end but then, just as easily, load up a cart of excess crops and take them to the market down at the nearest fortress city.
Then there were the views: splendid, jaw-dropping views of grass-covered hills, surrounding idyllic, trapped bodies of water that shimmered like glass in the morning sun. Trees heavy with fruit drooped to provide equal parts shade and food, in ways that Takeo assumed could only be mimicked by royalty surrounded by a small army of servants. Granted, one couldn’t lounge about all day when there was work to do on the farm, but the stretches of pure tranquility would taste all the sweeter when the only thing one had to wash off was dirt rather than blood.
Thoughts like these kept Takeo occupied as they traversed the land he would have settled in, if only life hadn’t fated him as a warrior. The thoughts were a welcome distraction, too, because his next goal was to pry into Emy’s closely guarded mind for hints at Qadir’s schemes.
He worked up the courage about halfway to the Nguyen fortress, when they’d stopped to catch some kappa in a small pond. Languishing under restlessness, he was blunt about it, too.
“So, let’s have at it, then,” he began, knowing that introduction could mean anything. “We’ve seen all three fortresses now and even launched an unsuccessful attack. Qadir’s first step is brazenly clear and defensive. What is he planning?”
Emy didn’t look his way, but her ears had turned his direction when he spoke. She rarely changed forms these days. Takeo wasn’t sure why, as Emy used to enjoy taking on new disguises daily. She hadn’t spent this long in her true rakshasa form since they’d known her.
Her ears turned back, and she didn’t reply. Gavin cringed beside her, no doubt anticipating an outburst. Thankfully, Takeo was in a good mood.
“I know you heard me,” he went on, relaxed, “and we both know you’ve been thinking about it.”
“You could be talking to Gavin,” Emy said.
Takeo, lying on his back with arms crossed behind his head, rolled his eyes dramatically at her. She still didn’t look his way but sighed.
“I don’t see why you need me,” she replied. “You can probably work it out yourself. Besides, it’s not like we rakshasas are part of some collective being. I can’t possibly know what he’s thinking. You know him better than I do. The only time I’ve seen Qadir was back in that stupid cave.”
“I thought you said you would obey my orders. I asked for your opinion on Qadir’s plans. Let’s hear it. Unless you've changed your mind.”
Emy’s shoulders slumped, defeated. Gavin eased up.
“Let me guess,” she said. “You’re running circles in your mind, trying to think of how Qadir plans to win, right?”
“Essentially,” Takeo answered. “He and the brothers seem holed up in every corner of this land, trying to stretch me thin and attacking indirectly with fire and disease. I keep thinking the entire plan is to strike at me surgically along some unprotected flank, yet there’s nothing. Look at how confident I am of this, that here we are, three of us again, casually strolling through this land that is supposed to be hostile. I can’t see any path to victory for them. In fact, I’m not even sure I see a path to defeat for me, either. I mean, if he’s just planning to hole up, then what’s to stop me from reassembling my army and going from brother to brother, killing them at my leisure? Even if I did lose a number of men, I’d have all the time in the world to summon fresh recruits from the south and continue the war. All this does is delay me.”
Takeo’s speech came to an abrupt end as the weight of those last words fell on him. A reluctant smile stained Emy’s face, only perceptible by the way her whiskers tugged upwards as she refused to look in Takeo’s direction. He didn’t care, though. Takeo’s eyes had gone wide.
“All this does is delay me,” he repeated.
“As I said,” Emy replied. “You don’t need me.”
“Delay me,” Takeo said once again. “But what for? This whole time I’ve been thinking he’s probing for a weakness, but it’s not about the fight here, is it? He’s delaying me here, keeping me here. Not just me physically, either, as this problem requires all my attention. Knowing the mind of a rakshasa, knowing its preference for feints, that can only mean the fight isn’t here. Is it? Can it? Am I over thinking this? What fight could possibly exist beyond this one?”
“Now that,” Emy answered, “I have no idea, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t keep me up at night. It must be a grand plan. It’d have to be, knowing his hatred for you.”
“And what would you know of that?” Takeo snapped.
Emy shrugged, but otherwise made no reply. Meanwhile, Gavin had gone a touch pale and kept glancing between Emy and Takeo.
“What?” Takeo said, looking to the knight. “Do you know what Qadir’s planning?”
“No, but I’m with Emy on this one. I just realized that if you’re both right, then that means what I witnessed—an entire city burned to the ground–was nothing but a distraction. For what? By the angels, I can't fathom. I don’t want to know. What in the world could possibly be in store for us if that was a distraction?”
Gavin shuddered.
“By the angels,” he continued, muttering to himself. “I never should have left Lucifan.”
Takeo didn’t shudder, but he did feel a chill run up his spine. The excitement at having revealed part of Qadir’s intentions was overshadowed by the consequences of that discovery. Takeo followed the knight’s logic, and his stomach began to churn. The tranquil scene around him took on a mocking tone as his heart beat against his chest, and it dawned on him that Qadir was a hyper-intelligent animal backed into a corner.
The results of this battle could be devastating.
On some level, Takeo completely understood what Qadir was doing. When faced with a superior opponent—as Takeo had often faced in his youth—the prudent method to
win was to attack indirectly. Do not engage the foe head on, but strike where they were weak, and avoid them where they are strong, whether facing a minotaur, a hydra, or an army. What Takeo did not anticipate—or could not imagine until now—is that a rakshasa like Qadir would consider a human like Takeo to be a superior opponent.
The reversal of roles sent a shock through Takeo’s system. He’d always imagined himself as the smaller fighter, in part because he was. That’s why speed was so important to his fighting style; he couldn’t throw a punch like a viking or take a hit like a knight. Before his time with the Hanu, Takeo had never been entrusted with command; he’d been a ronin, an outsider, so ostracized by society as to be considered an invalid. He’d been sold into slavery, twice. No one powerful or influential should be able to claim such a past.
Yet here he was, facing off against an opponent doing everything in his power not to fight. The evidence was clear. Takeo had been looking at this all wrong, and time would tell how many lives that would cost.
The rest of the journey back to the Nguyen fortress was uneventful. Minus the sleepless nights and the dead silence that hovered over the trio, Takeo could look back on that trip as one of relative serenity. Every waking moment was spent thinking about Qadir and what that rakshasa had in mind, and also upon the thought that Takeo was probably too late to stop it.
Chapter 11
If Takeo were to have arrived at the Nguyen keep to find his entire army dead, his camp burned, and the whole war lost, he would not have been surprised. He’d worked himself into such a state of nervousness and insecurity that it shocked him even more to find nothing had changed. The steep mountain still lay besieged by a healthy, if not depleted, Hanu army. The Nguyen fortress at the mountain’s peak still sat impervious and quiet, with the gate-strewn path leading towards it unmolested and bleak. Takeo jumped at shadows at the sight of it all.