by Travis Bughi
Takeo stared, horror seeping into the voids left by the cold numbness that permeated his body.
“You don’t know what to say, do you?” she whispered, wiping a tear away. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything. It’s perfect, isn’t it? The timing? I wasn’t sure you’d make it back before the birth. But now you’re here, and everyone’s waiting, and they’ll see. It will all be so perfect. You’ll be crowned emperor, and I your empress, and within days, perhaps hours, we will have an heir to the throne. Just like Nobu would have been. It’s all so perfect. I never thought this could happen. It’s fate, don’t you see?”
Takeo shivered. With considerable effort, he drew himself back to reality and collected his thoughts. He pushed down the rising bile in his stomach and steeled himself. He closed his eyes and remembered his plans.
Nothing has changed. Nothing has changed.
“Yes,” he whispered and held out his hand. “Yes, it is.”
Lady Zhenzhen smiled and accepted his offer. Hand-in-hand they descended the tower and walked out to the courtyard. The entire place had been decorated and filled with royals. Music played as the two stepped into view and walked toward the altar where they would be wed as husband and wife, emperor and empress, before a gawking crowd reeling from the shock that had struck Takeo at seeing the turn of events.
From every corner, every wall, every row of stands that had been hastily constructed, eyes stared unabashed. Takeo, though, had eyes for none of them. He kept his on Lady Zhenzhen’s stomach, thinking of his purpose and repeating that nothing had changed.
The ceremony was long, intentionally long, some might say, because it needed to be pounded into the heads of every onlooker that this was an unprecedented and irrevocable event. They watched as Lady Zhenzhen became the Empress Zhenzhen Karaoshi, Takeo became Emperor Takeo Karaoshi, and they both became the sovereign rulers of a unified nation.
“Peace in our time,” the speaker called it, as the sun faded below the walls, and so did the ceremony come to a close.
Zhenzhen was so tired by then that Takeo had to help her into her litter. Then they were carried away, and all the daimyos were sent back to their temporary homes. More games and festivities were planned for the next day, but few knew that Takeo intended to cancel them all. Enough celebrating, he figured. It was time for the work to begin.
In fact, there was work to do that night.
“Takeo?” Zhenzhen called out. “Takeo, where are we going?”
She had stayed quiet when they passed through the keep and out the other side. She’d even stayed quiet as they passed through the main city. However, when the litter and the guards approached the outer walls, headed out of the city, she could no longer keep her silence.
“I’ve something special planned,” he said.
“Well, can it wait?” she replied. “I’m really tired, and I think it would best for me to lie down. My stomach keeps tightening on me. Our baby kicks a lot, you know? It hurts.”
“That’s exactly why it can’t wait,” Takeo replied. “I’m your husband now, your lord. You need to listen to me.”
“And I’m your wife,” Zhenzhen snapped, “and I say that I’m tired.”
“This won’t be long,” he replied. “I promise. Once it was decided that we would be married, I became determined to do this on our wedding night. And now that you’re pregnant, it’s even more important that we don’t wait.”
Lady Zhenzhen pouted and fumed, but her attitude seemed to have been pacified just a hair now that Takeo was officially her husband. She lay back in her litter and huffed.
That was until they entered a small yet densely wooded area where a long rope, which ended in a noose, had been hung from a sturdy branch.
The ninjas and Aiguo set the litter down. Zhenzhen stared at the rope, motionless.
“Takeo, what is this?” she demanded.
“How can you be this naive? Isn’t it obvious? It’s for you,” he replied. “Did you really think getting pregnant would change anything? That I would forget what you took from me? That I would let Mako’s death go unpunished? I told you that I would never give you more than I gave Emily, and yet you didn’t listen. Do you know what Emily and I never had? A single night as husband and wife. You know what else we never had? A child. You’ll never have those things either, not from me.”
Takeo nodded to Aiguo, who grinned wickedly and let out a short whistle. The ninjas closed in to sweep the empress up. Lady Zhenzhen screamed and sprung to her feet, swinging her arms.
“Back off! Don’t listen to him! I’m your shogun, not him! You will obey me. Obey me, I say! Let go. Let go of me!”
She screamed as they grabbed and dragged her toward the rope. Aiguo began to widen the noose and sweep it around Zhenzhen’s neck while she kicked and screamed.
“You can’t do this to me!” she screamed. “I’m carrying your baby! Your heir! Your heir, Takeo! You ronin scum. I should have killed you when I had the chance. How could you do this to me? Listen to me. You can’t do this to me!”
“Because you’re pregnant?” Takeo said back, raising his voice. “Because you’re carrying a child conceived in rape? What do I care? In fact, all the more reason to do this. I don’t want an heir, you stupid, violent, psychotic wench. I never sought lordship, or a dynasty, or anything other than a world where women like you can’t string up innocent girls like Mako for crimes they didn’t commit. I hope I die in the final battle that brings this world to its knees so that I’ll have done my duty and I can finally feel the peace that only death can bring. I know this is cruel in some fashion, even terrible. Imagine what they’ll say? ‘Did you hear? The Dark Lord killed his pregnant wife on their wedding night. The horror!’ So be it! I’d rather that be said than have a child with you. So be it. Let them say what they will. I won’t let the threat of gossip protect you. Die, and take our bastard child with you.”
Zhenzhen’s rants and screams were cut short as the ninjas below pulled on the rope, lifting the empress into the air. She kicked wildly and pulled at the cord around her throat, gasping for air as it pulled tight.
Takeo didn’t want to watch. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. He knew that the child was innocent, but he couldn’t have an heir. He just couldn’t. Zhenzhen was supposed to die alone, but no. In her wicked, twisted way, she’d tried to protect herself by using their unborn infant as a shield.
This wasn’t an accident. She knew what she was doing. She probably took medicine to suppress a pregnancy until the time was right. She thought she could control me by having an heir, but I won’t let that happen. I will do what needs to be done, and I will watch. I will be the villain this world needs.
So, he did. Takeo watched until his wife stopped kicking, her chest stopped moving, and the life went out of her eyes.
“Do you want us to cut her down, my lord?” Aiguo asked, bowing. “What would you like done with the body?”
“Leave her for now,” Takeo said, holding his sword so that the fire burnt away the tears that threatened to well up. “I need one more person to see her like this.”
Takeo continued to hold his sword until Qing was brought to the scene. He held tight and watched her every move, waiting for what he thought was surely to come.
Qing, still reeling from the shock of seeing Lady Zhenzhen pregnant, now stood before the empty litter and beheld the motionless body of her former empress swaying from the trees. She stared and stared, tears dripping slowly yet steadily from her eyes. Her small, frail, yet wiry figure seemed to close in on itself as she clasped her hands and paced slowly towards the body. She looked up at Zhenzhen’s swollen form, held her feet, and pressed the empress’ toes to her lips.
Takeo waited. This had always been the plan, for Qing to see Zhenzhen like this. It wasn’t just about the cruelty of it, as much as Takeo liked to see the little elf suffer for all her insolence. No, it was sheer prudence. Seeing her lover like this would surely push Qing over the edge, and when the elf came at T
akeo in a rage, he could kill her and be rid of one more loose end.
But that’s not what happened. Qing, in uncharacteristic fashion, stood meekly and wept.
“Why?” she whispered.
“You know why,” Takeo replied.
“I wasn’t talking to you.”
Qing let her tears drip on Zhenzhen’s feet and kissed them one more time. She took a deep breath and let out a long shudder. Then she closed her eyes and let go.
Takeo waited, poised. Nothing happened.
“Well?” he asked.
“Well what?” she replied without turning. “What do you want from me?”
“Anything, for starters. I can say that if I were you and that were Emily, I wouldn’t hesitate to attack the person responsible. You’re being awfully calm, Qing, which makes me nervous.”
“Ah, so you planned to kill me in self-defense, is that it?” Qing scoffed. “Not to assuage your guilt, no doubt. You’d have no issue killing me in cold blood. So here I am. What are you waiting for? Cut my body in two, as you have done to my heart.”
Takeo considered doing just that, but he couldn’t shake his disbelief at what he saw. In all the time he’d known Qing, she’d been an angry mess, shouting and raving, spitting insults. She’d even tried to kill him once already, just on the chance that he might kill Zhenzhen. She should be in blind rage right now. It just didn’t make sense.
A modicum of respect rose for her in his mind.
“How?” he asked.
“How what?”
“You know what.”
Qing sighed and shook her head.
“I’ve been mourning her for some time now,” Qing whispered. “When she killed Mako, I knew you wouldn’t let it go. Like watching an old relative pass away from sickness, I’ve been waiting for you to take your revenge. I realized nothing could save her. At least, nothing I could do. She had a sickness all her own—the very human diseases of shortsightedness and thirst for power. She never should have taken you in, but there was nothing to do.”
“Do you want me to kill you?” Takeo asked.
“Almost,” Qing replied. “Almost, but, well, she never loved me. That’s the difference, you see, between yourself and me. That and I’m an elf. I just want one thing.”
“What?”
“Let me bury her. Let me cut her down and take her away, some place only I will know about, where I can lay her to rest, in peace, and visit her whenever I like. That’s all I ask.”
Takeo was still waiting for the betrayal, yet he weighed her words. That was easy enough to grant. He’d planned to burn the body originally. He didn’t want to make a martyr out of Zhenzhen. He figured it would be better if she mysteriously disappeared with a rumor going out that she and the baby had died in childbirth. Sure, the truth would get out eventually, but by then the power of the act would have been disarmed through disinformation.
“Then what?” Takeo asked. “You want me to kill you?”
“Actually, if you’ll let me, I thought I would continue to serve you.”
Takeo balked this time, and he nearly let go of his sword. Then he tightened his grip, thinking that this was the exact moment of surprise Qing had been waiting for to attack. It’s what he would have done.
She did nothing.
“You,” Takeo stammered, “would continue to serve me? After what I’ve done?”
“It’s not so crazy,” Qing replied. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about this, logically, like a good elf. Trying to kill you would be pointless. It wouldn’t bring Zhenzhen back. And what if I left you? First, I doubt you’d let me go, but more importantly, to what end would I be leaving? Isn’t your intent to spread this war over the rest of the world? There will be no escaping you, wherever I go. What you’re about to do will shape history itself, and I could have a hand in it. Also, you forget that I will outlive you by hundreds of years. This is but a moment in time for me—a rather important moment that I would be foolish to walk away from.
“And think about things from your perspective. If you’re about to fight the world, then you’re going to need capable generals, lots of them. You can’t be everywhere at once, Takeo, so you’ll need people you can trust to act independently and competently. As a smart man, you’ll know few meet those qualifications as thoroughly as me.
“In fact, I’d wager you need me.”
Takeo paused, still anticipating treachery at every word. However, that didn’t stop his mind from turning, calculating, and weighing the truth in her statement.
“But we hate each other,” Takeo said. “How could I ever trust you?”
“That’s never stopped you before.”
That was true. As Gavin had liked to mention, Takeo actually did trust people who hated him. In fact, he trusted them more than others because he expected people to hate him—wanted people to hate him. Life was easier that way, familiar, and less painful than loving and losing. Look at what had happened with all those he did trust. If they weren’t dead, they’d betrayed and abandoned him.
Now he was surrounded by people he didn’t trust. There was Aiguo, the traitorous vermin. Lord Oiu, the sniveling coward. Lady Anagarika, the fearful mother. Only Kuniko was the exception, and one was enough.
“Alright then,” Takeo said. “Go ahead. Cut her down and do as you please, then return to me for your orders. However, just know that I’ll always be watching you. I’ll expect you to betray me at every turn, and I’ll always be ready.”
“I know, my lord,” she said, bowing. “And it’s for that reason you will survive when I do.”
Takeo finally let go of his sword. Qing did nothing. Only then did he release his breath and walk away.
“My lord?” Qing called out.
Takeo turned back and raised an eyebrow.
“May I ask what your plan is for me? What you’ll do now?”
Takeo thought a moment, debating the harm in telling her. Then he decided there was no point in waiting. This part of the story had come to a close, and now it was time for the next one to begin, this time with him as Emperor Takeo Karaoshi—The Dark Lord.
“I will launch an invasion force at once,” Takeo said. “I will attack everywhere so that no place will have a chance to rise up against me, like what happened to Jabbar. Savara, Lucifan, Khaz Mal, and The North must all be either scouted or assaulted. While Kuniko, Oiu, and Anagarika handle those places closest to here, I intend to have Aiguo go after a loose end that slipped through my fingertips. He’s knowledgeable about rakshasas—I can think of no one better, besides myself, to hunt down Emy. I’ve no doubt she’ll be a thorn in my side somehow. As for you, I think I’ll either send you into The North or to Savara. I’m not sure yet. I hadn’t planned on having you around. I will think on it.”
“But where will you go?”
Takeo nodded.
“Yes, I’m not surprised you asked that. I’m sure everyone wants to know. I’m thinking ahead, of Lucifan. That city may be the most difficult place to bring down, thanks to the remaining colossus. I have no way of knowing if it’s still . . . alive. I have to know. I can’t complete my dream without knowing. The world can’t know peace if Lucifan still stands. I need to find the last angel.
“And hopefully, just maybe, I won’t have to kill him.”
Epilogue
This is the night.
Cyrus took a deep breath, held it, and counted to five. Then he released it and repeated the line.
“This is the night,” he said, mist seeping out with the words. “This is the night.”
Yet, no matter how many times he said it, his insides churned. He hesitated and contemplated waiting another month. He shook with nervous energy and rubbed his shoulders where excess adrenaline made his limbs go numb.
Oh, and there was the fear, of course.
But he couldn’t. Everything was ready. The Phizeiros brothers and their friends had set up a small camp just west of the elven village where Cyrus and his mother could live in peace, comfortab
ly beneath a well-made elven structure. The brothers had even given Cyrus words of encouragement some nights ago, favoring the werewolf with a smile and an oath of protection.
“You’ll do fine,” Katar had said. “You’ve been training for this, and by elves, no less.”
“Come on,” Urddusk had added. “I mean, you’ve fought a bugbear. You can’t be scared. I’ve never seen a werewolf be afraid of anything.”
But the truth was that Cyrus would rather fight that bugbear two more times than fight Ralph once. In fact, the more he thought about his stepfather, fear wasn’t the right word to describe Cyrus’ emotions. Outright terror was a better description.
“But tonight is the night,” he whispered.
There could be no more waiting. Not only was his private camp set up well within trading distance of the elven village, but Cyrus’ plan had been discovered by Nathok. Surprising everyone while Cyrus had been putting the finishing touches on his new camp, the old elf had come by.
“I heard what you intend to do,” Nathok had said. “Brave, but more importantly, courageous. Even if you fail, you’ll have died for a worthy cause.”
“Thanks, I think,” Cyrus had mumbled in reply.
How could Cyrus go back on his plans now? Everyone was counting on him. Most of all, Belen.
She didn’t know it, of course. Cyrus hadn’t seen his mother in months. In exile from both the elves and the werewolves, Cyrus had spent his days traveling between the outskirts of one village and the other. Although time and circumstance had mended his relationship with the Phizeiros brothers, Cyrus could still only meet the elves outside their village. He wasn’t allowed back inside—not yet. Even if everyone now disagreed with the decision to banish him, they had to abide by their own laws and wait until another council could be drawn up and a new vote administered by the elders.
He couldn’t make a camp close to the werewolves. Since defying Ralph, the authoritative decree had come down that Cyrus wouldn’t be welcomed back until he made amends. It didn’t matter that Cyrus had been so broken and bruised that night that he’d had to be carried to the outskirts, then dumped on the ground to heal on his own. It hadn’t mattered that Ralph abused Cyrus’ mother. That wasn’t how the pack operated. Ralph was the alpha male, and he had friends. He was the strongest and thus was in charge until another brought him down. Then, and only then, could his will be defied.