by Travis Bughi
“Your orders, my lord?” Kuniko spoke up.
Takeo paused outside his tent. The guards froze, too, as they pulled back the folds to open the way for him.
“You know I have a plan, then?” he asked.
Kuniko tried and failed to suppress a grin. She did her best to be as calm, collected, and unreadable as her lord, but her enthusiastic youth shined through at times, especially when he favored her with informality.
“There is a way,” he said to all of them as much as to her. “I’ve been thinking. Maybe I can’t bring this fortress down, or even the others, but that doesn’t mean we’re hopeless. I win if Qadir loses, and he loses if he dies. And so, Aiguo, your usefulness is about to be tested. That fortress has secret ways in and out, as every fortress does. Tell me that you used one to get here.”
“Most assuredly, my lord,” Aiguo responded, “but Qadir is no fool. He’ll have collapsed the tunnel by now lest I am discovered or captured. It was always assumed that I could only return victorious.”
“But you’re no fool either. You wouldn’t have spent all that time in the Nguyen fortress without discovering other passages and keeping that information private so that you’d have your own path of escape.”
“My lord is not wrong,” Aiguo went on, “but I should warn you that I never got the chance to test these passages. I’m only familiar with their ability to get me out. I never contemplated using them to get back in.”
“No, of course not. That would reveal your knowledge of them. But we only need one to work. If I can get in and kill one, just Qadir, I might be able to turn this thing around. It won’t matter what that rakshasa has planned if he’s dead. The brothers will fall without their master tactician guiding their every move.”
“Why not take Emy, too?” Gavin’s voice echoed out from within the tent.
Everyone startled, even Takeo, and whirled about to see the handsome knight exit the tent with Emy in her true form. It hadn’t been long since Takeo had seen them last, yet so much had happened that it felt like an age. A flash of sweat went down his spine, along with some annoyance at Gavin’s question.
“You know why,” Takeo replied.
Which was true. It’d take an outright dunce to think Takeo would allow Emy to go anywhere near Qadir while they were both alive. Surely asking such a question was only for show, but Takeo couldn’t fathom the point. He decided to ignore it.
“Will you at least tell me what he is doing here?” Gavin asked, nodding at Aiguo. “Took me a while to recognize him, but now that I do, I’m even more baffled than before.”
“Surprised to see him alive?” Nicholas commented.
“Why should you be?” Takeo cut in, still directing his attention at Gavin. “You’re the one who made me spare him last we met.”
“It’s a far cry between sparing someone and actively working with them,” the knight replied, arms folded across his wide chest. “Don’t you hold this man personally responsible for what happened to Emily? What in the world is going on? I don’t like the look of this.”
“It’s as we feared,” Emy spoke up, eyes going wide. “Qadir’s trap, whatever it is—it’s gone off.”
Takeo’s dark eyes fell on her for the first time since she appeared, and she looked away. He kept his gaze on her, respecting yet hating her sharp, inquisitive mind. The fact that she could put the truth together so easily sent a chill up his spine. If she could think that fast, one could only imagine what Qadir was doing up there, wondering why news of Takeo's death hadn’t arrived yet. Not for the first time, Takeo contemplated what a threat their kind was to the human race.
“The oni offered me their allegiance, again,” Takeo said to Gavin. “I turned them down, again. Aiguo, sensing my inevitability, has done what he does best and turned on Qadir.”
“My lord cuts equally true with sword and words,” Aiguo added, bowing.
“Idiot,” Gavin whispered and shook his head. “But I’m not going to lecture you. It seems like every time I tell you not to do something, you just dig in deeper, so fine, keep him—this man you claim does nothing but stab people in the back. I’m done giving you sound advice. At least tell me what Qadir’s trap was. Maybe then, I can sleep peacefully tonight.”
Takeo clenched his jaw and cast his gaze to the ground. Gavin sucked in a breath.
“Wait, you don’t know?” he said.
“I’m afraid even I don’t know,” Aiguo answered. “Qadir insisted on absolute secrecy on the third phase of his plans. He only dealt with the ninjas directly, though that information alone should give you some direction.”
“But as to whom the target is, or the timing, I don’t know,” Takeo confessed.
Gavin swore and ran both hands through his golden hair. Takeo gripped his sword, letting the fire burn away the shame he felt at admitting his position.
Emy cleared her throat, drawing attention.
“If there are ninjas involved, I think I know where one attack will be,” she said.
Takeo glared at her.
“How could you possibly know that?”
“I spend a lot time with you,” Emy replied, calmly. “You and those around you. I recognize people by both sight and smell, and I know for a fact that I have never smelled either of these two before tonight.”
Casually, her hand drifted left and right, indicating the two guards on either side of her, who still held the tent’s entrance open.
Everyone went quiet, shock sweeping all but the rakshasa. The guards—ninjas—shared one glance before looking at Takeo.
Then everyone reached for weapons.
Takeo drew first, but the ninjas weren’t far behind. They had small, thin knives that Takeo immediately recognized as the specialized throwing weapons called kunai, perfect for killing from a short range. The assassins drew and attacked in the same motion, but Takeo was already a blur to the human eye as he dashed forward. Bathed in jinni power, he darted past the airborne knives and ripped his sword across the ninja closest to Gavin. The blow sliced the man open and painted the tent red, the attack so ferocious that not even a scream escaped before the man died.
Not a heartbeat later, Takeo charged the next ninja, who reached into his clothes for a second kunai but never found the weapon. Takeo leapt into the air and struck with his knee against the soft tissue of the ninja’s nose, one of the few parts not protected by laminar armor. Blood spewed into the air, trailing the ninja as he flew back and crashed to the ground.
Takeo was on him again before anyone could gasp for air, pinning the man’s throwing arm to the ground with a foot and placing his katana at the man’s throat.
“Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. I suppose it’s too much to hope that you know anything of value,” Takeo said. “Just tell me what idiot sends only two ninjas to kill me?”
The assassin coughed, spraying blood up the length of the blade at his throat. Then, through the pain of his crushed nose, he smiled.
“What idiot always assumes that he’s the target?” the ninja asked.
“Takeo,” Nicholas called out. “Takeo, look!”
The ronin’s blood chilled in his veins as he cocked his head slowly to the side. Nicholas stood aghast, arms bloodied, but only because he held Kuniko whom he’d caught before she fell. Kuniko mouthed unspoken words on pale lips, hands holding each of the throwing knives that had impaled her—one in the stomach and one in the chest.
The ninja laughed once before Takeo stabbed him through the throat.
For a moment, no one said anything. They all stared wide-eyed, unblinking as Kuniko struggled to breathe, bleeding into Nicholas’ massive hands.
“Surgeon!” Takeo screamed. “Fetch my surgeon, now. Someone!”
He darted over and took the girl from the viking’s hands, pulling her close and wrapping a hand around the wound in her stomach. A muffled cry escaped her lips as she was lowered to the ground.
“Takeo,” Nicholas started, stuttering. “I’m sorry. I should have—”
Nicholas bolted away. Takeo had no idea if any other servants had been around to hear his plea. He had no attention for anyone else.
“Kuniko, stay with me, look at me,” he commanded. “Breathe, just breathe.”
“My lord,” she struggled to say.
“Don’t talk, just listen to my voice,” he begged. “Listen, you’re not going to die. You’re not! You’re still breathing, okay? That’s a good sign, just stay with me and concentrate. You can do this; you’re tough. You’re strong. You want to be me, huh? Be like me? Then live. Survive. I command you, don’t die! Please, don’t die. Not for everything I’ve done to you, done for you. Don’t let it end like this.”
Takeo could hardly believe the emotion that swept over him so suddenly. For years now, he’d hardly given Kuniko any attention at all compared to the devotion she’d showed him. Somehow, he’d convinced himself that meant he didn’t care for the girl, yet he always knew that was a lie. At every moment when it mattered, he had protected her, and he never quite knew why. Not even now, when it mattered most, and he dug deep to search for the words that would keep her awake.
“Emy,” Gavin spoke up, shifting out of his shock at the scene. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“What, me?” she replied. “I—I thought it was obvious. If Aiguo was supposed to get the oni to kill Takeo, then clearly they weren’t here for him. How am I the only one that realized that? I was getting ready to pull you out of the way. I didn’t know they’d aim for her, though it seems obvious now.”
“Are you two going to stand there and watch her die?” Takeo shouted. “Get water, now. And bandages! Something.”
“My lord,” Kuniko spoke again, looking into Takeo’s eyes. “I, I’m so glad . . . they didn’t hurt you.”
Her eyes fluttered, closing. Takeo pressed on the knife wound until her eyes snapped open and she screamed.
“I gave you an order, damn it,” he said. “Fight, Kuniko. Fight it!”
She moaned her pain, but the flood of adrenaline gave her enough strength to nod and suck in air.
Takeo looked up to see that neither Gavin nor Emy had moved. Emy stood placid, unperturbed in the slightest at Kuniko’s suffering, and Takeo could have struck her down for that alone if he had not been keeping pressure on Kuniko’s wounds. Gavin, however, appeared grave. A pit of fear seemed to well within him and grow.
“Takeo,” he said.
“What?” Takeo snapped back, furious at him, at Emy, at himself—mostly himself—at having failed, at having to hold Kuniko as she died, at having tried so hard for so long to give her a chance, everyone a chance, only to watch the life drain out of them again and again and again.
Like Mako. Like Emily. Like Ping. Like Krunk. Like Lei. And on and on and on, and he just wanted it to stop, yet it couldn’t, he wouldn’t, not until every threat to humanity had been stamped out.
But none of that would save Kuniko. Not now. Only the surgeon could, or Takeo would hang her for incompetence.
“Takeo,” Gavin repeated.
“What, damn it!”
“He knew just where to strike,” Gavin said, eyes wide. “Qadir. He knew exactly where to hit you the hardest, where you were least prepared. And only two ninjas? Takeo, I’ve got a bad feeling about tonight.
“I don’t think Kuniko’s going to die alone.”
* * *
By a miracle, and the deft hand of Takeo’s personal surgeon, Kuniko did not die that night. She didn’t die in the morning, either, but neither could anyone say for certain that she would live. Fevers ravaged her body, and assuming she survived those, there was no telling how or when she’d recover.
Unfortunately, that didn’t stop Gavin’s prediction from coming true.
Reports started with a trickle in the morning, carried by winged pixiu sent from throughout the southern region of Juatwa. Weary messengers came next, some astride even wearier mounts, teetering with exhaustion at having run or rode through the night. None carried good news.
Qadir had quite literally emptied the Nguyen vaults and coordinated every willing ninja clan into a massive attack across all of Juatwa.
Lord Virote Yang was dead. Garroted while he relieved himself.
Several members of the Zhao family—distant cousins of Kuniko with closer ties to the late Lady Ki—were captured and being held for ransom. Payment was demanded in either an absurd amount of money or withdrawal of the troops from the war. They weren’t demanding this of Takeo, but of the daimyo that had pledged their troops to him. Considering how the Lady Ki had been treated in her final years, a good half of the Zhao family had already made its decision, and the message that was sent to Takeo’s camp was also a command to return home all those samurai belonging to the Zhao family.
The Choi, Hu, and Sun families had been ransacked of either powerful or precious members, and they were requesting aid from Takeo. Either he would pay the ransom or rescue the hostages, or else they would abandon him. They claimed to have no choice, yet added respectfully that—of course—Takeo would see them through this ordeal.
Then it got worse. Other daimyo had chosen to be the aggressors rather than the victims.
The families of the late Lady Xie and Lord Sing sprung the betrayal Takeo had known was coming. He had spared their lives in exchange for their samurai because, at the time, Takeo needed every able body he could muster, and he had hoped to have the whole of Juatwa conquered before they turned on him. Plus, how could they betray him with no soldiers at the ready? He never thought they’d be so brazen as to help ninjas capture other royalty. The two families had organized a gathering of select Hanu and Katsu parents—older ones with strong ties to their sons and daughters under the command of Takeo—then captured and sold them off to ninjas for ransom.
Either way, the message was clear: abandon the ronin, or the prisoners die. However, for good measure, the ninjas had killed a few already.
Attempts were made on the lives of Lady Zhenzhen and Lord Oiu, but both were unsuccessful. Reports stated that Zhenzhen had been locked away for months in self-imposed isolation. She’d been unwilling to see anyone for any reason, which Takeo took as a sign of her increasing madness, but it proved to be her saving grace. The assassin sent to cut her throat had been caught and killed trying to bypass the many walls and locks the shogun had put up between herself and humanity. As for Lord Oiu, no normal ninja was a match for the protection Qing could provide.
With this news, Takeo feared the worst for Lady Anagarika. Without her skillful political web, his entire Katsu army might fall apart in months. But she came to visit him personally, bearing worse tidings. Takeo had forgotten that as much damage as her death would do, she could wreak far more havoc alive.
“My lord, you must forgive my bluntness, but I have no time for pleasantries,” she began, bowing with eyes red from tears. “They’ve captured my children.”
She did not embellish. There was no need. Takeo knew enough about Lady Anagarika to know that little else mattered to her beyond the lives of her immediate family. That’s why she had become Takeo’s vassal in the first place, in exchange for the lives of her children and her nieces and nephews. Nothing could be done about Botan, but Anagarika cared less about revenge and more about staunching the loss of life—at least when it came to those tied to her by blood. That was why Takeo had been so confident in her loyalty. He’d always held the lives of those children in his hands.
Until now.
“Please, my lord,” she begged, choking back tears. “You must understand. Kill me if you have to, but they made their message clear. If I serve you, they die. I can’t let that happen. I can’t.”
Takeo did not argue. He knew conviction when he saw it.
“How long did they give you?” he asked.
“One week, my lord,” she replied, sighing. “I must dismantle and withdraw the Katsu troops within the week.”
But in reality, she’d have less
than that, and they both knew it. The camp would need to be struck, the marching started, and the messages sent. Anagarika didn’t have a week to decide. She had a week to make her choice clear to her children’s captors.
That meant her decision was effective immediately.
And what was Takeo to do? She’d already stated she’d gladly die to save her children, and he couldn’t well threaten the children anymore either, not when they were in the hands of the enemy. He could threaten to kill other members of her family, but Takeo was aware of the strange devotion parents showed their offspring. He wasn’t about to take that gamble, not yet.
“My lord,” Anagarika continued. “I’ve heard stories that you massacred a ninja clan once. If you could do so again, get my children back—”
She stopped short of promising anything, and Takeo again recognized the logic in that. Could he track down her children? Perhaps. That would require Emy’s unique set of skills, or perhaps some help from Qing, or a thorough scouting effort by a large number of his troops. No option, however, could be accomplished in a week, not with a siege being pressed on three separate cities in the far northern end of Juatwa.
Takeo was spread too thin. He had concentrated every coin he had here, on this battle, and Qadir had won by taking the fight elsewhere.
In the end, Takeo sent Anagarika away without giving her a response. He needed time to think because he still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Qadir had won without a single sword being raised.
Yet it was true. When all was said and done, and the flood of messages stemmed, Takeo counted that Qadir’s plan had successfully struck at a good half the daimyo that followed him and Lady Zhenzhen. That meant roughly half the daimyo tied to this battle by greed, wealth, or marriage were suddenly facing a form of blackmail that, in Takeo’s experience, rarely failed. If even half of that half decided to give up the lives of their loved ones to stay and help Takeo with his war, that was still a quarter of his army bleeding away. That was an instant reduction in a week upon an army that was already too small to accomplish what it needed to.