by Travis Bughi
“As I was saying,” Sir Mark said, closing the door behind them. “Lucifan will require all of my attention and ability over the next decade. The buildings were easy to repair, or their debris otherwise cleared, and those structures too damaged to repair were destroyed while I still had the labor and means to get it done. I am beginning to realize Count Drowin was right: conflict has a way of concentrating power under existing leadership. I keep expecting either the commoners or the wealthy, the leprechauns, to question my rule, but none have done so yet. It’s as if Lucifan has been under the authority of immortals for so long that no one is bothered by a vampire issuing orders. Or perhaps the city is still reeling from shock? Only time will tell.
“However, as for the city’s current state of being, it will take time and effort to heal its wounds. Jabbar’s invasion has drastically reduced trade, including food imports, which means rationing, and every now and then, a ship still arrives whose masters believe the city to have been conquered or burned. I’ve tried loosening the taxes to increase spending, but all that did was concentrate more wealth into the hands of the leprechauns. And of the militia I’d formed? I’ve had to disband much of it, which has increased crime. All of this is making the people desperate.
“The ogres, much as I tried to help them, are not faring well either. I suppose it was only to be expected with their short life spans and violent history. To discourage them from committing crimes—more witnesses, you see—I now only use them in daytime patrols. It still happens, though. I’m receiving complaints that some of my citizens are being extorted, if not outright robbed by the very ogres who are supposed to protect them. And with their reduced incomes, I fear other members of the Knights’ Order might be tempted to do the same.
“I’m not sure what changed. They all seemed so grateful before—both ogres and militia—to be inducted and given responsibility, pay, and a measure of respect. Now they’re turning to their old ways. I wish I could keep them employed, but with so little trade, I lack the income. I won’t be so foolish as to indebt this city to the leprechauns again, either. That’s a mistake you only make once in life.”
Takeo listened but did not hear. Truth be told, he did not care much for Lucifan. Their problems, as drastic as Sir Mark made them sound, always seemed so trivial when compared to the slavery of Savara and the constant wars of Juatwa. The angels had come and built this city as a shelter, and they’d done such a remarkable job that the people within had forgotten what true hardship was like. Sir Mark, his knights, and all the people here thought a little hunger and some petty crimes were actually worthy of being called hard times.
It was almost enough to make Takeo hate them.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” the samurai said. “I wish I could offer some advice, but I have no experience in the matter of ruling.”
“Obviously,” Sir Mark sighed. “I didn’t bring you down here for that, though. You’re here because, well, I feel you are owed something for what you’ve done. You helped defend this city, and Emily gave her life to stop Jabbar, and then you delivered my letters and escorted my son to Ephron. It seems only fitting you should be granted some help. Where are you off to?”
“Gavin, Nicholas, and I are headed to Juatwa, or wherever fate may take us so long as it is far from here.”
Takeo glanced at Nicholas, checking for defiance. Nicholas met the gaze, held it with a blank-faced stare, and then wandered over to the piles of weapons and armor to pick through them.
“If you’re to leave this city, I would see you properly armed,” Sir Mark said. “Take what you need. If I had any spare coins, I might offer them, but the city lacks its former wealth. For my son’s future, I would do what I can to help you survive. Take all you can carry.”
Takeo bowed deeply to the vampire. Although he’d never thought highly of Sir Mark, he could at least show respect when it was deserved. Takeo moved on to the piles, searching them and shifting his body so that he didn’t cast shadows over what he was inspecting.
He had no need of a weapon for himself. He had a katana and a dagger, and for a samurai such as him, no other weapons were needed. However, he had not forgotten his absent companion.
It took some digging, but Takeo was able to locate a respectable shield, one he thought Gavin would be proud of. It was a kite shield—named for its shape—its metal polished smooth with no emblem or mark of any kind. Takeo grabbed up another weapon, gave the shield a few jabs and felt satisfied. For good measure, he searched for a longsword that might be of better quality than the one Gavin currently wore. He found that, too.
Then a stroke of greed hit him, and he grabbed up a bow, a quiver of arrows, a crossbow, and some bolts. It seemed practical to do so. One never knew when such things would come in handy.
Nearby, Nicholas had found himself a huge, two-handed hammer.
“What is that?” Takeo asked.
“It’s a maul,” Nicholas replied, his voice catching in awe. “A good one, too. With this, I could topple a minotaur.”
“Pray you never get the chance.”
The maul was a shaft of metal with a block-shaped head on one end. The head itself was bigger than Takeo’s skull and looked unnecessarily heavy. Nicholas, though, lifted and swung the maul about as if it weighed nothing. The air trembled at the swings, and Takeo pitied the opponent too slow to dodge them.
Vikings, he thought.
“We offer our thanks, Sir Mark,” Takeo said, bowing again.
“Yes, thank you,” Nicholas echoed and nodded.
“It’s no trouble, I assure you. A good half of this will be melted down to make farming tools. The other half I’ll be using to arm a permanent militia. If there is another Jabbar out there, we won’t have a colossus to face him. I want this city prepared to defend itself.”
“That’s good to hear,” Takeo replied, honestly this time. “Lucifan has learned its lesson, then?”
“You could say that,” Sir Mark said with a shrug. “If you’ll excuse me, other things need my attention. Give Gavin my regards, and if you return in fifteen years, seek me out. I might have a message to deliver to my son.”
When they were back on Lucifan’s streets, Nicholas worked up the courage to speak.
“If I’m going to travel with you, you have to promise me something,” he said. “Promise me you’ll never lie to me.”
“Nicholas, you’re not important enough for me to lie to you,” Takeo said. “I promise.”
“Alright then, we’re off to a good start. That’s the kind of honesty I’m looking for. Next, I have to know, did my mother put you up to this?”
“Yes.”
“Gavin, was he in on it?”
“From the start.”
Nicholas grumbled, apparently displeased with the answers. He looked for a distraction and found it in the large maul he’d selected as a weapon. He flipped it over in his hands, spinning the top like a toy, and then tried to find some way to secure it to himself.
“We’re going to have to buy some things tomorrow. I need something to strap this to my back.”
“I need a kimono.”
“What do you think Gavin will need?”
“They don’t sell what Gavin needs,” Takeo answered. “Hopefully, tonight, Leda will help take his mind off that. In the morning, we’ll discuss our plans for getting to Juatwa, and you can say goodbye to your brother and nephew, perhaps for the last time.”
Chapter 8
In the morning, Gavin emerged from the hallways of Banshee’s Wail Tavern in a stupor, grinning widely and shielding his eyes from the morning sunlight that came through the open shutters. He seemed surprised to find that, while he’d been busy last night, Takeo had convinced Nicholas to join them, gone to see Sir Mark, and secured the trio arms for their journey.
“Of all the insults I can level at you, Takeo,” the knight said, “a lack of efficiency will never be one of them. Damn do you get things done.”
“I’m only getting started,” Takeo repli
ed. “For the next part, though, I’ll need Nicholas’ help.”
“I know already. You want my brother’s money.”
“Only so much.”
It was considered unwise to disturb Abraham and Adelpha while the two were alone in a room together—mostly because Adelpha had a strong right hook—so they waited until Abraham came out on his own sometime toward the late morning, exhausted, disheveled, and decidedly grumpy. This was surprising to Takeo. Emily’s older brother always seemed so happy.
“What happened to you?” Nicholas asked as way of greeting. “That warrior woman too much to handle?”
“William, actually,” the gunslinger croaked. “He cried all night. I kept trying to get him back to sleep, but every time I did, the moment I laid my head down, he’d wake up again and start screaming. I had to fetch him milk, change him, walk around carrying him. Nothing worked. And Adelpha didn’t help at all, other than to give me advice. She said I had to learn, and this was the only way. Damn, I’m so tired. All I want to do is sleep right now. I can’t wait to put William into Mother’s arms. She’ll know what to do. She has to. She raised all three of us. Agh . . . I’m so tired right now I could sleep through my own gunshots.”
Takeo had to turn his head to hide a smile. It wasn’t the pain of others that gave him pleasure, but the knowledge of being right. Sure, babies could be cute, but they were far too much work. From what Takeo knew about babies, though, Abraham was lucky. William might have cried all night, but at least he wasn’t loud enough to wake up the whole tavern. The innkeeper might have had to say something.
When presented with the option of sleeping or raising a baby, the choice seemed clear to Takeo.
Despite his grumpy mood, it took little effort from Nicholas to get Abraham to part with a few coins. He handed a palm sized bag to his younger brother as if it meant nothing. At this, Takeo raised an eyebrow. He’d heard that gunslingers were wealthy, but this attitude seemed to rival the nonchalance of some lesser daimyos of Juatwa. It was either that or Abraham was a generous fellow. Perhaps it was a combination of both.
“Just promise you’ll come see me again before you leave,” Abraham said, resting his head in an open palm, eyes closed. “I want to know where my little brother is going, and if I’ll ever see him again.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine,” Nicholas replied, clapping the uneasy gunslinger on his shoulder, “I’m going with Takeo and Gavin here.”
“What?” Abraham balked, eyes flying open.
“I’ll tell you about it later,” Nicholas said with a shrug. “And don’t worry. I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye to my nephew. I’m not Emily.”
“No, you’re worse.”
They left the tavern to find Lucifan rising with the sun. They saw people exiting homes, opening shops, or tying unicorns to carts destined for the markets. Ogres, leprechauns, minotaurs, knights, vikings, pirates, peasants, merchants, traders—despite Sir Mark’s appraisal of the city’s situation, Takeo could not tell the difference—there were still too many people as far as he was concerned.
“That was the thing I liked most about Savara,” he mused out loud. “You could hide anywhere, escape from anyone.”
“What’d you say?” Gavin shouted above the increasing noise of the crowds.
“Nothing,” Takeo replied. “Let’s find what we’re looking for.”
It turned out to be easier than expected to purchase a kimono for Takeo. The outfits were rare this far west where men preferred to don the restrictive clothing called pants, but that just meant the only tailor who could make them was well known for her specialty. Takeo selected a simple, plain white one and stowed away his boiled leather, though he didn’t get rid of it. If they traveled to Juatwa by land rather than sea, they’d have to pass through the Khaz Mal Mountains and The North, and Takeo would need warmer clothing again.
As he dressed, he couldn’t help but emit a long sigh of relief. The smooth cloth flowed around him in familiar ways and left him feeling free. He knew he’d receive strange looks, but that bothered him none.
“You don’t expect me to wear one of those, do you?” Gavin asked. “When we reach Juatwa? I don’t want to be mistaken for a damsel in distress, or even for a damsel in-a-dress.”
Takeo smirked and said, “Relax, you’re ugly enough already.”
Nicholas snorted.
Getting leatherwork done for the knight and viking proved more difficult than finding a kimono for Takeo. Well, not Gavin’s necessarily, but Nicholas’ maul was one heavy object, and they had to go to several shops to find a leatherworker who had the skill, material, and time needed to secure the massive weapon to Nicholas’ back. The Stout family’s youngest member lamented the entire time about how it would be easier to make the damn thing himself. He was a self-sufficient viking, he claimed, but Takeo dragged him along anyway.
“When we leave this city, we leave prepared,” Takeo said. “I didn’t promise your mother I’d get you killed.”
“You sound just like her,” Nicholas replied, eyes squinting. “Did she give you nagging lessons before we left?”
“She did, but they were about as useful as your fighting skills.”
“The second I beat you bloody, I’m leaving. I hope you know that.”
“Is this how you survived in Carlito’s dungeon?” Takeo asked. “Whining so often that your mouth kept the cold at bay?”
“I’m far too sober for this,” Gavin groaned.
It took most of the day, but they finally finished their preparations. Gavin bore a sturdy longsword, a kite shield, and a crossbow, which was strapped to his side; Nicholas’ maul was secured to his back; and besides his katana, Takeo held a longbow for good measure.
“Are you any good with that crossbow?” Takeo asked.
“Honestly, not very,” Gavin admitted, “but I intend to practice. Crossbow use is a standard part of a knight’s training, but we hardly use them. We just lob a concentrated volley and then charge in. How about you with that longbow? Did Emily teach you anything?”
Takeo frowned and hung his head. “No. Damn, that makes me wish we had an amazon with us. I never feared the bow until I saw Emily use one. She could make a painting with her shots.”
“Well, if you’re looking for allies,” Gavin said, voice trailing off.
They stopped and pulled off to the side of Lucifan’s busy roadways. They had to bunch together under a building’s overhang to get fully out of the way, and even then, little kids and the occasional oblivious citizen would dart between them. Every time one did, Takeo tapped a hand over his coin pouch.
He looked to Gavin and waited, giving him a knowing glance.
“Alright, look,” Gavin said, lowering his voice and leaning in. “We’ve got a long way to go, and rumor has it the world is a hotbed of chaos right now. I was talking to Leda, and she’d had some conversations with a few pirates—”
“Conversations?” Nicholas leered.
“Shut up, boy,” Gavin answered and then turned back to Takeo. “Whatever, she talked to some people. Rumor has it Savara is awash in war, worse than normal. Now, I’ve never been there, so I don’t know what that means—”
“It means nothing,” Takeo sighed. “Savara is always dangerous, and we’re not headed there anyway.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not what I’ve heard. Listen, Savara is awash in blood, and supposedly that’s inflaming the rest of the world, too. In Juatwa, the war is still going on. That one lady you were talking about, Lady Ze-wan—”
“Xuan,” Takeo corrected.
“Damn it, will you let me finish!” Gavin shouted. “You know who I’m talking about. Anyway, as I was saying, Juatwa isn’t conquered—if anything, their war has gotten worse—and Lucifan is poor, and the Great Plains is suffering, and the pirates are getting desperate, and apparently the vikings up north are taking the opportunity to raid more places, and each other.”
Takeo almost interrupted again but stopped himself. Gavin noticed a
nd gave a short nod.
“Look, now, I’m not saying any of this is true,” the knight went on, “or even if it should concern us, but if we had another companion, if there were one more of us, say, perhaps we’d fare better if we ran into trouble.”
Takeo gave Nicholas a long glance, but Nicholas raised up both hands in response.
“Don’t look at me,” the viking said. “I didn’t even know I was coming until last night.”
Must I make every decision? Takeo thought. He took a deep breath and held it a moment.
“Do you want to bring Leda?” he asked. “Was your night with her really so pleasant?”
“What?” Gavin blinked, but then swept a hand, dismissing the notion. “No. An ogre.”
“An ogre?” Nicholas scowled. “You turned down Leda for an ogre?”
“Huh? What? No! I told you to shut up, boy.”
Nicholas chuckled. Takeo pursed his lips to stop a smile.
“You know what I mean,” Gavin said before turning back to Takeo. “No, not Leda. That’s not my style anyway, not after Emily left me standing on the docks; I leave them now. So, anyway, the ogre’s name is Krunk, and he’s got a good heart. I haven’t seen him since we got here—last I knew he had enlisted into Lucifan’s army—but what you told me about your visit with Sir Mark has me worried. If the ogres are sliding back into their old ways, I don’t want him here for it. I want to take him with us, get him away from this. He’s well-mannered and has a good soul, trust me.”
When Gavin had mentioned Emily and then Krunk, Takeo heard no more. A dim light illuminated the darkness in Takeo’s mind, and a faint memory surfaced and took over.
Her brown hair, almost auburn, splays out on the snow to add color to the world of white and grey. Her skin is barred to him by layers of clothing, but he savors her closeness all the same. She smiles at him, a kindness in her eyes sparking faintly despite all the cruelty the world has to offer. He drowns in it, believing that she alone is the only truly good thing he’ll know.
“There was this one ogre,” she says. “He was just a child when I met him. His name was Krunk, and he smiled a lot, always so eager to help. When I first saw him, I distrusted him immediately based solely on his race. That earned me a stern speech from Madam Sweeney, a much deserved stern speech. I judged him wrongly before I ever gave him a chance. We’ve all made that mistake, I’m sure. You did that to me, remember?”