by Travis Bughi
Takeo cocked his head until the bones in his neck snapped. The pleasure it gave him to know that he would finally kill this sniveling, cowardly creature was immense. His feet made tiny splashes as he paced through the pools of blood.
“It was her, my lord,” Aiguo pleaded. “The rakshasa that you call Emy, she tricked me. She came to me, disguised as you, and demanded I take her inside the Nguyen fortress. That’s exactly what you had ordered me to do before Kuniko had been attacked. I thought I was obeying you! She’s the one you should be after. She helped Qadir escape. You’ve got to believe me.”
Takeo scoffed and did not stop until he stood over Aiguo’s huddled body.
“You could be telling the truth,” Takeo said. “If you are, I’ll find and deal with her eventually. However, you could be lying. Either way, I fail to see why you should be spared—you, the supposed rakshasa expert, who couldn’t even see through one simple disguise.”
“My lord, it had to be you,” Aiguo replied, crying now. “She had your sword.”
Takeo heart skipped a beat. Total silence reigned for several moments before Takeo shook his head.
“No, that’s impossible. You lie. Either that or you were mistaken.”
“I thought so, too, at first. I did, please believe me that I did. I didn’t question it when she came to me, looking like you, carrying that black sheath. She mimicked you with such perfection, and yet something seemed different. Yet, she had the sword and the mannerisms and that aura. I obeyed and smuggled us inside. I got us to Qadir’s room, requesting a private audience just as I would have done with you, but then she shifted, and everything fell apart. She grabbed my wrist before I could leave—nearly breaking it—and I thought for sure I was dead.”
“The sword, though,” Takeo demanded. “It had to be fake. You lie.”
“My lord, I wish that was so, if only to spare you the truth. I don’t know what happened next. They were too clever to say anything with me around. She and Qadir shared a look, some silent understanding passing between them, and then Emy choked me into unconsciousness. I thought she was killing me, I really did, until I came to in this room, chained to the ground. I had no idea what was going on, and I was too afraid to shout for help. Then I heard battle, the oni shouts, and I realized what you’d done—but I also realized what you’d see when you came in here. I put Xianliang’s face back together the best I could and prayed you’d give me a chance to speak before you cut me down with that sword.
“But here you are, and without it. That blade she carried was real, and I don’t know how or why, but you’ve got to believe me. It explains so much. Xianliang’s head, the cuts . . . the burn marks.”
Takeo’s mind raced, and his eyes surveyed the scene of butchery around him again. He looked at the limbs carefully, and there he saw tiny, near imperceptible burn marks. They were fainter than his own when he attacked with the sword, as if whoever possessed it could swing faster than him, and that made perfect sense to Takeo’s logical yet terrified mind. A rakshasa so empowered would move faster than an empowered human.
Yet even more damning than that was the smell. Takeo hadn’t noticed it at first, but it was clear now. Mixed with the smell of wet blood was a faint trace of smoke and cauterizing flesh.
Takeo’s body went numb.
“No,” he whispered. “No, it’s not possible.”
“My lord, it’s true. She must have stolen it.”
“It’s impossible! I watched that sword get swallowed whole. It doesn't make sense. Those damned oni lied to me. I'll kill them all!” Takeo shrieked before grabbing Aiguo by his hair and yanking his head up. “Look me in the eyes. What happened? What are they planning? How, when? When did she come to you with that sword?”
“My lord, it was shortly after you left,” Aiguo begged, holding back a whimper. “You left your tent without a word, but then found me in secret. Only it was her, not you, and I thought you were being secretive for a reason. That’s why we snuck out of the camp. And I don’t know what they’re planning! They knocked me out. I wish I knew, honestly.”
“You knew Qadir best,” Takeo shouted back. “I need to know, and I need to know now. Where would they go? How could they get free? Wait, it all makes sense now. That’s how Qadir could get away from here. No Nguyen servant would help that rakshasa out without Xianliang. Even if Qadir disguised himself, they’d know it was him with his missing foot, but Emy could help. But why? To help her rakshasa kind and defy me? That must be it, and why am I surprised? I knew this would come. I knew she’d betray me one day, but it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Without my sword, it couldn’t have. Answer me, Aiguo! What’s Qadir’s next move? To go to another fortress? Which one? Ngo?”
“No, no, my lord, please,” Aiguo cried out. “Qadir would know that if you could topple the Nguyen fortress, no place in Juatwa would be safe.”
“And of course, he would know the Nguyen fortress would fall before any other,” Takeo went on, voicing his thoughts out loud. “Emy, that ever-watchful rakshasa, would know what I was going to do. Just as I watched her, so did she watch me, and before anyone else, even me perhaps, she would know I’d take the oni deal. So, she frees Qadir and warns him of everything. Then they kill Xianliang, mutilating him to the point where I can’t use his head to counter the ninja blackmail—to delay me—and flee. Emy probably disguised herself as Xianliang to get help from the servants. Damn it.
“But you’re right. They wouldn’t run to another fortress. They’d know they couldn’t hide from me. They must be going off somewhere. I’ll track them down. I’ll close every port city and put a bounty on their heads five times what anyone would offer in Savara. They won’t escape me. I should have killed her sooner. What a fool I was, trying to honor a dead ogre. She did this, though. Not me. I’ll gut her like the animal she is.”
“I’m not sure where they’re headed, my lord, but if you will permit me to suggest, they might not have left the camp yet. It wasn’t that long ago they left me here. There may still be time.”
Takeo eyed Aiguo, inspecting him for integrity. Then he released the man and walked away. As he passed the soldiers, he issued orders.
“Keep this man in chains but clean him up. Finish the purge here until all the oni are back alive. Do not follow me. None of you will be of any help. You won’t know what she looks like, and she’d kill you if you did. Thankfully, that man is right. She couldn’t have gone far, not this quickly.”
Takeo bolted from the fortress, racing down the hill as fast as his legs could carry him. His only saving grace, he hoped, was that Gavin had never spilled the secret about Takeo’s sword immunity. If the knight had ever slipped that information to Emy in confidence, then Qadir would now know, too, and neither foe would let the blade get close enough for him to touch. Surely, they would be out to kill him, and he could only hope they’d try to end his life with the blade. Qadir, after all, would have to use it. Crippled as he was, he’d be mostly useless without that added strength and speed.
One could only hope.
At the bottom of the hill, Takeo didn’t have to wait for attendants; they found him. Soldiers of rank spotted their lord general and knelt to him, asking for orders, only to receive a sharp demand in reply.
“Nicholas, the viking,” Takeo bellowed. “I need him and a mount. Where is he?”
“My lord?” the soldier said, stuttering. “A mount? But we’ve nearly finished your last order.”
“My last,” Takeo started, then stopped.
They disguised themselves as me.
“What was my last order?” Takeo shouted.
“My lord?”
“Answer me!”
“You were worried about Xianliang getting free,” the soldier answered, hastily. “You took a mount for yourself and then ordered all other komainu be slaughtered.”
Takeo screamed. The soldier quaked with fear.
“My lord?” the soldier stuttered.
“That wasn’t me! That was a rak
shasa. Damn it! Nicholas, where is Nicholas? Send runners out immediately. Everyone go, now, spread the word. Cancel my last order. Save the komainu. Save at least one, damn it!”
Soldiers came to life and sprinted in all directions, heading for the camp. Takeo dashed off, too, headed for the daimyo tents and hoping Nicholas was still there.
She had his sword, which meant she had command. No one would question the image of Takeo armed with that sword, even if he appeared in the camp when he was supposed to be up in the mountain. Everyone knew about Emy, and some might suspect that she would disguise herself as him, but none would question the sword.
“How did she get it?” Takeo asked himself between breaths as he ran at full pace. “It’s not possible. I saw it get swallowed. The oni even said the deal was done. Something’s not right.”
Takeo reached his quarters and demanded Nicholas. No one had seen him, not since Takeo had left, and it took longer than Takeo would have liked to find out who had seen Nicholas last. It was the komainu master, and Takeo dashed off to find the woman. He not only found her but also a pile of komainu corpses and an empty stable.
Takeo’s blood hit a boiling point.
“Ah, my lord,” came the standard greeting, the old woman taking a break from washing the blood from her hands to bow properly. “Your order has been carried out. The komainu are dead, as much as it pained me. But it is not my place to question you.”
“Nevermind that,” Takeo said through clenched teeth. “Nicholas. I heard you saw him last. Where is he? I need him.”
“What? My lord? I don’t understand. You were the one who sent him away,” the woman replied, frowning.
Takeo blinked, then he snarled.
“Answer me!” he bellowed, bile rising in his throat. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
The woman let out a muffled yelp and went to the ground, forehead to the dirt, terrified at Takeo’s tone. The story tumbled out of her.
“I did not mean to anger you, my lord. You came on a mount, alone,” she said, voice shaking. “You issued an order that all komainu be slaughtered except for yours and two for Nicholas and Emy, that rakshasa. Then you left, and Nicholas and Emy came. Nicholas also had the Yilmaz boy with him. I gave them mounts, as you instructed, my lord, and watched them charge off west. Then you came back to make sure they were gone.”
“And then what did I do? What did I look like? Did you see my hands? My feet?”
“My lord?”
He sucked in a breath, and she gave an answer before he could threaten her.
“You didn’t look any different!” she cried. “Your feet, I, I don’t know. I only saw you on one side.”
“Which side?”
“Uh, umm, the, uh, left side, my lord. Yes, yes it was the left because you had your sword there. And your hands, well, one was fine. You kept them together, one hand over the other. The left hand, I believe. Now that I think of it, I never saw your right side clearly.”
“That’s because I cut off his right foot and the fingers on his right hand,” Takeo muttered. “He must have been moving fast through the camp, trying to hide the disfigurement. It wouldn’t work for long.”
“My lord?”
“Nevermind. That wasn’t me, but that doesn’t concern you right now. Where did I go? He couldn’t have stayed behind. A missing limb can’t be hidden for long. Did I say anything to you?”
“Yes, you did,” she said, eager to have a clear answer. “You looked directly at me and asked my name, like you wanted me to remember that moment. Then you said not to tell anyone else, but you were going to visit an old friend.”
Takeo went still.
“Say that again,” he asked. “Exactly as it was said.”
“You said you were going to leave, but I didn’t ask where. I know better than to question you, my lord. You said, ‘I have somewhere rather important to go. Don’t tell anyone, even those three if they come back. I’m going to visit an old friend, someone I hold very dear.’ Then you smiled and left.”
The blood drained from Takeo’s face, and his limbs tingled as his body went numb. A sickening cold swept through his veins.
“Gavin,” he whispered.
“My lord?”
Takeo swallowed down a dry throat.
“Find me a mount,” he demanded, voice weak. “And find out where Nicholas went.”
He didn’t leave for some time. No order was carried out as thoroughly as one issued from Takeo’s lips, even if those lips weren’t really his. Every komainu in the Hanu camp had been put to the sword with brutal efficiency, so Takeo had to wait until one of his outlying komainu patrols returned from a scouting venture. Even then, the mounts were tired from their already long trek, so Takeo had set a less than rapid pace out of the Hanu camp heading south. In other parts of the world, mounts could be ridden into exhaustion or even death if need be, but not komainu. If driven to the end, they’d lose control and turn on their riders.
So Qadir had a head start, but not by too much, Takeo guessed. His fears eased as he remembered Gavin had left much earlier to head home, and hopefully the knight had reached that place in time, and perhaps even left again. Kuniko, in her infinite wisdom, had set up a chain of relay posts leading from the Hanu camp to the Hanu fortress, stocked with fresh mounts so that a message or person could be delivered as quickly and as safely as possible. Takeo intended to utilize that resource now, as Gavin had likely done before him, and as Qadir would do, too.
When Takeo arrived at the first relay for a fresh mount, the soldier in charge there was surprised to see him again.
With a series of questions, Takeo discovered that Qadir was still disguising himself as the ronin, and he had somehow made excellent time to this post. How?
Takeo thought on it.
My sword. That bastard is touching the sword to the komainu and giving it greater speed.
His fears for Gavin returned, and Takeo knew he’d get no rest. He switched mounts for a fresh one and took off as fast as he could.
And so, it went, Takeo racing from one post to the next, driving his komainu relentlessly, fighting fatigue and pain, as his body ached to be ridding for so long. Each mount raced like a fiend, as they were intended to, and the strain wore into Takeo’s bones and joints as he fought to hang on, push down the pain, and maybe, just maybe, beat Qadir to his destination.
At every post, he arrived only to find Qadir had gained on him, if only by a little. Night came on, exhaustion threatened him, and Takeo took to lashing himself to his mounts, not trusting his own hands to hang on. At this pace, one slip and he would go crashing down, breaking a limb or maybe even his neck. He couldn’t risk that. He’d be no help to anyone dead or paralyzed.
All the while, he could only think over and over and over that Qadir had the Karaoshi blade and he was heading for Gavin.
By the power of komainu speed and sheer willpower, a journey that would have taken weeks by foot was completed in a day. Takeo’s last mount stumbled weakly into the Zhao lands, Kuniko’s lands, where Gavin and his family were supposed to find safe refuge from all the harm this world could produce. The komainu arrived in better shape than Takeo, more alert and in less pain.
It was quiet, unnaturally so. No guards met him as he approached. No servants or children could be heard playing in the distance. Takeo forced his mount inwards, blinking away his exhaustion, aided by adrenaline and fear. Then he heard a distant cry, a child’s sobbing, and a grown man’s weeping. Takeo spurred his mount towards the noise.
The Zhao mansion came into view, utterly empty save for small scene right outside its front entrance, right where Kuniko had walked out with the severed heads of her parents.
A dead komainu lay off to the side, its neck cut open with burn marks along the wound. Sitting on the veranda was Qadir in his rakshasa form. He was tall and imposing, even with his legs dangling over the side, the right foot completely gone from the ankle down. His one good hand wrapped firmly around the bloodied Karaoshi swor
d, smoke rising from the blade where the blood hissed and burned. Sitting beside Qadir, held in place by his fingerless right hand, was little Pleiades Shaw, who wasn’t so little anymore. Four or five years old now—Takeo wasn’t sure—she had sharp, understanding eyes, a lanky appearance, and was beginning to show the seeds of beauty that she’d inherited from her parents. Her hazel eyes were marred by tears now, though, as the Karaoshi sword hovered a finger’s width from her neck.
On her knees just below them was Yeira, head bowed, and eyes drenched in tears. She kept her hands held in the back where Qadir could see them. She looked up as Takeo entered the scene, and they shared a momentary gaze. Takeo expected to see hatred there, along with blame and anger, but all Yeira’s eyes held were regret.
The anger and hate instead came from Gavin, also on his knees, but several paces away from his wife and child and their captor. His sobbing stopped when he spied Takeo, and his eyes pierced into the ronin with so much agony that it twisted Takeo’s heart.
Qadir, however, just smiled.
“Ah, Takeo,” he said. “So good of you to join us. Now we can begin.”
He took the sword from Pleiades’ neck, reversed it, and decapitated Yeira.
Chapter 16
Yeira’s head went flying, shooting blood out of the neck in thick streams. Her beautiful black hair whirled about while her headless corpse teetered in place before crashing to the ground. Yeira’s head fell sometime after, rolling along the ground and coming to a stop where her nose hit the dirt and her large lips cushioned the momentum. None of this could be heard over Gavin’s screams.
He roared in agony and collapsed, fresh tears pouring from his eyes, and his hands clenched into fists that pushed into the ground. Deep sobs wracked his body, broken by loud cries, begging for this not to be true, shouting his wife’s name, and screaming with unbridled rage into the dirt.
Even still, he wasn’t alone. Pleiades screamed, too, in raw terror and at the top of her lungs. Her eyes fixated on her mother’s headless body while she tried frantically to run away, headless of the way Qadir struggled to keep her in place.