An Emperor's Fury: Most Favored

by Paul Heisel

  "She needs a fire. I ask you again, please let us be." Hand upon his leg, Feln extracted a shuriken from a hidden fold in his fighting clothes. His other hand did the same.

  "I'll keep her warm and return her to her family," Kojo said. "You are in no position to do anything to stop me. In fact," he motioned to the riders with the bows, "you are at my mercy."

  The soldiers pulled their bows taut. They quivered slightly with the tension, and were aiming the arrows at Feln's chest. They wouldn't miss, not at this range.

  "Yes, I'm at your mercy. You helped me defeat a common threat, the hill man. For that I'm grateful. Let me and my betrothed go in peace."

  Kojo rolled his eyes. He jammed his helm down on his head, concealing most of his face. "Nameless one, I will leave you in peace. But I shall return this woman to her family. She is no longer your burden, so you should thank me."

  Iristi lurched forward. The soldier held her back. She tried to break free, but the effort was feeble. "Yes," she said, teeth chattering. "He's my husband to be. Please, let me go. Please…"

  Feln looked to Kojo. He was motioning to his soldiers and they were responding. They were leaving. The two with the bows stayed where they were, arrows aimed at Feln. Another soldier, an older looking fellow who hadn't taken up spear or bow, unsheathed a thick sword. A soldier pushed Iristi on his horse and positioned her in the saddle, then hopped up. All but the three joined Kojo. Nine of them and Iristi went upstream. He could see Iristi slumped forward, then he couldn't see her any longer as the horse changed position. Soon they were out of sight.

  The Furawa soldiers thought him to be a ranan, a soldier with no master, a rogue, who had kidnapped Iristi. It probably wasn't unheard of, kidnappings and such. Feln, though, was still unsure what was going to happen with these three guarding him. Were they going to kill him? Take him prisoner? Question him? He wondered what would become of Iristi. Would Kojo really return her to Hou? Or would he hold her for ransom? Feln thought the latter was more likely.

  There was no time to lose. He had to dispatch these three, retrieve his sword from the forest, and track Kojo and his soldiers to wherever they were headed. With their arrows aimed at his chest, he was at a distinct disadvantage. The warrior with the sword hadn't come down from his horse, and that was what Feln needed. If he could get the bowman to shoot their arrows while the warrior was dismounting, he would have a chance.

  "I'll answer your questions," Feln told them.

  "The time for answers is over," the warrior told him as his foot rotated out of the stirrup. "I saw your belt. I'm going to enjoy peeling it off your dead body."

  With a flick of his wrists, Feln tossed shuriken and twisted, knowing if he ran away the arrows would end up sticking out of his back. The distraction was enough and he felt the arrows whiz by him, one grazing his shoulder and leaving a wound. He only had a few seconds, and he ran for it, counted to three, then jumped behind a rock. He blinked. Invisible, he stood up again, two arrows clattering off the boulder. The warrior crunched along the rock in his direction and spun around searching.

  "Where did he go?"

  #

  Kojo motioned to one of his lieutenants. The soldier, an older man who had seen many battles, maneuvered his horse closer. The man in the blue and red robes came to his side as well.

  "What do you think about our ranan?"

  "He's hiding something," the soldier said.

  "Agreed," the man in the blue robe said.

  Kojo nodded. "He has a belt."

  The soldier nodded. "I saw a glimpse of it while he was fighting. Do you think he's a Favored One of Emesia?"

  "Yes, he must be a Favored One, either of Emesia or Ashimo - it matters not - he must be on a secret mission. He was probably escorting this woman to another city and became caught in the middle of our attack. The betrothed story can't be true. No lousy monk is worthy of that prize."

  "Do you think she's important?"

  "I think so," Kojo said. "We should find out who she is and exploit it. It'll be days before anyone learns of the scale of our invasion. By then, the army will be well entrenched in the valley. Perhaps she's important enough to be a bargaining chip. Or bring a large ransom."

  "He killed a hill man by himself," the soldier said. "Do you think Nan and those two can handle him?"

  "They had their bows on him and no one is more adept with a sword than Nan. He's as dead as that hill man. We've seen the last of that monk. Tonight at the camp we'll celebrate our good fortune. We'll have a feast, and I'll find out who our prisoner is and what advantage we can gain from it."

  #

  Feln was scooting along the forest edge away from the brook, making his way to where his katana had been tossed aside by the hill man. In his mind he pictured the blade tumbling end over end, the hardened steel lazily falling amongst decades of discarded leaves, tree limbs, and ferns. Looking back, he hoped the Furawans had dismounted and taken out their swords. The two bowmen were still atop their horses, though, arrows ready and staying in close formation behind the other soldier who was searching the area for him. This wasn't good. If he attacked the swordsman, he would have to hope the marksmen would miss a second time. That he doubted. He couldn't remain invisible indefinitely, plus it drained his strength. Running away was an option, but they were after his belt and they would pursue him. With limited time to create a plan that would tip the scales in his favor, he decided he would have to improvise.

  "Come out, I know you're hiding," the man said. "Come forward and get what you deserve."

  The swordsman was making his way toward him and had guessed what he was going after. The archers used their legs to direct their horses forward, staying a short distance behind and on the swordsman's flank. As quiet as he could, Feln maneuvered through the leafy ferns and layers of needles. There was no wind to mask the noise he did made, and each time the needles crunched he cringed. He found his katana resting against the base of a redwood, and he knew they would see him as soon as he grabbed it. The only tactical advantage was the massive trees. Perhaps that's what he needed to do; use the trees. Feln came close to his katana, and he knew that it would only be a moment before the swordsman saw it too.

  The soldier coming toward him was middle aged, his face weathered and creased, tan from the sunshine. Dark eyes were set deeply among his graying hair. The light armor he had on was worn but in good repair. The man's helm was simpler than Kojo's, but still had sweeps, angles, and jags that made him look fearsome. In Feln's estimation, this man was an experienced swordsman.

  Feln grabbed the katana's long handle.

  "Over here!"

  Feln sprinted behind the large tree, the thunks of the deadly arrows followed just as he reached safety. He blinked again, went to the same side he had come from and gazed out at his attackers. Not as he hoped, they were keeping their distance. The swordsman wasn't following him behind the tree either. It was going to be three against one no matter what he tried.

  "That's a neat trick you can do with your belt. You won't escape. I have heard the Favored One belts have magical properties and yours must be special if you can vanish. I know as well it can't last forever. You're just delaying the inevitable. Surrender and I promise death will be swift and painless for us both."

  Hiding behind the tree, Feln estimated the distance between him and the next large tree, then the next, then the next before he would get to the open area where the brook and field of smooth stones were. He took a deep breath and ran, counting in his head.

  Halfway to the tree he dropped into view, a second later he was behind the tree and continued to sprint. There was no sound, only his movements, and he didn't dwell on what it would feel like to have those long wicked arrows pierce his body. Ahead his goal loomed, the horse, he continued at a dead sprint, slid along the rocks, grabbed the stamping beast's reins and vaulted into the saddle. An arrow clattered nearby, one grazed the horse's armored head. Feln took a deep breath and blinked.

  #

  T
he horse took off with the invisible rider, bolting ahead through the flat rocks and into the stream. The horse went to a full gallop. Arrows missed their mark again.

  "Follow him!" the swordsman hollered as he yanked off his helm. The archers complied, kicking their heels hard into their mounts and taking off down the stream. The swordsman kicked the stones, the clatter heard above the horses pounding away. It was the last thing he heard.

  #

  As soon as he blinked, he twisted off the horse, moved to its back side, and jammed a shuriken into its rump. The horse bolted. The archers had reloaded and fired at the fleeing horse, hitting empty air where he should have been. At the command of the swordsman, the two archers pursued. The noise masked his movements and he walked to the swordsman, heart pounding in his ears as he came closer. The katana slid free of its scabbard silently, and when the man kicked the rocks, Feln lurched forward and in one graceful swing removed his head. The body remained upright for a moment, then it fell over next to the severed head, broadsword and helm clanging on the rocks. Feln wiped the blood from his katana and sheathed the blade. He didn't have much time, even so, the leather armor didn't look that complicated that he couldn't put it on by himself.

  #

  The archers returned later than he had anticipated, but sooner than he needed. The helm fit awkwardly on his head and the leather breastplate and greaves made his upper body look correct, but he had failed to get the leggings unfastened. Feln had managed to cover the body with his robe, retrieved from the shelter, and he arranged the scene well enough that it was believable. He was leaning over a nearby boulder feigning injury, hiding his lower body from where the archers would come. All he needed was for them to get close.

  The archers returned with the horse from downstream, both had swords at the ready. As they came closer, Feln moaned from the boulder.

  "Nan!" an archer hollered. "Are you injured?"

  Feln waved his hand, rolled off the boulder so they would lose sight of him, and blinked. His heart was pounding again, the beat steady and strong. Crouched with his blade ready, he waited. He could hear them dismounting and rushing over.

  "Nan?"

  Feln shot up and slashed, a backhand move he had learned when bringing the katana out of the sheath. The razor sharp steel cut across the man's neck, blood flowing instantly in a shower. As the body fell, the other came forward with his sword crashing down. Though this man was no stranger to swordplay, Feln was an expert with his katana and had additional skills to draw upon. Attacks were blocked, Feln darted this way and that despite the clumsy armor he had used to disguise himself, and left a deadly cut along the man's sword arm. The soldier knew he was done for and tried to flee, but Feln caught him, and after a desperate struggle the man was left dead on the ground.

  Out of breath, Feln leaned on a boulder and stripped the helm from his head and set it down. He surveyed his body for damage and found none except where the arrow had grazed him. Once he caught his breath, he gathered the horses, led them into the trees, and tied them off so they wouldn't wander. A search of the horses offered him no more than a day's worth of food, a few trinkets, and extra weapons. This patrol had been meant for a day trip, nothing longer. He had to take the time to move the dead and strip them of their armor and weapons, then get going after Kojo and the captive Iristi. Everything took longer than he anticipated, and he knew even if he rushed he wouldn't be able to catch them before they reached their destination, whether it be the destroyed town or their camp. In either case, he'd be rushing into thousands of soldiers that had slaughtered an entire population. He put on the swordsman's armor, tightening it down properly, and shoved the helm over his head just in case. He had the two other horses in tow and he presumed he could explain them if he ran into a Furawa patrol.

  Chapter 13 - Resistance

  The horse made travel easier, and Feln finished the army staples in the saddlebags before he ate his own provisions. He traveled upstream several miles until he came to a natural draw where he could see where horses had trampled the brush. The tracks of the hill man were there as well, unmistakable because of the huge footprints. The soil was red clay, and rich, green plants and shrubs were dominant. Feln could see the forest giving way to rolling hills to the west, and on his right were massive peaks distant to the east. Over the hills to the west he saw the smoke from hundreds of campfires slithering into the sky. The Furawa army was camped there, miles from the city they had destroyed. He was still curious, why had they attacked the town with such violence? They could have taken it without bloodshed. Based on their location, they didn't even need to attack it at all.

  There was still time left in the day, but Feln needed darkness to do his work. He felt tired and drained, the events of the past several days had taken a toll on his reserves of energy. He had to rest. Feln guided the horses away from the Furawa army, heading along the edge of the forest. Following the hill man's tracks, he made his way along a small ravine and a trickling brook that eventually joined the stream he had come from. He traveled through an area with smashed rocks and boulders, finding the horses well-suited for this uneven travel.

  The ravine widened then abruptly turned ninety degrees, heading for a large, flat hill dominating the landscape in front of the nearby mountains. The hill was dotted with hearty trees. Nestled back amongst the thick clumps of trees was a rocky outcrop. Slate rock, jutting into the sky, made for natural cover. A small waterfall trickled down. Feln saw a flash of red amongst the rocks, urging the horse forward to satisfy his curiosity.

  As he came closer he could see that this was the beginning of the hill man's den. He climbed up the hill along a compacted path for a hundred feet, then he came to a level portion of land near the dark slate. The camp was in disarray, bits of cloth, bones of victims, and equipment were strewn about. Feln dismounted and used his chi to disappear, taking care not to make noise, and he began searching the camp. When he was satisfied there were no other hill men, he tied off the horses and found a place to rest. There was a huge nest like bed constructed from sticks, heaps of clothing, and grass, but it was far too smelly for him to get restful sleep. After a brief investigation into the rubble, Feln collected a few coins but didn't discover anything of great use to him. He found a spot outside that was upwind of the hill man lair, thankful for the fresh air. Instantly he was asleep, leather armor and all.

  #

  Iristi woke, still in a daze. Her throat was parched. Her wrists ached where ropes had been tied tightly. She was lying on her back and staring at what looked to be the top of a black canvas tent. Wonderful smells of roasted fowl, vegetables, and strong herbal tea intermixed with incense filled the air, making her stomach rumble. Her arms were tied behind her back and tied around a corner tent pole. Her shoulders were numb and aching.

  By pulling and wriggling, Iristi managed to come to a more comfortable sitting position, but her numb arms weren't cooperating. Blood flowed into her arms, pain followed, and she winced. The gray wool blanket covering her fell free, exposing her torso. Her captors had taken off her green dress, and as she moved, the blanket slipped down further. She tried to use her legs to put the blanket back into a more modest position, but doing so only made it worse. She gave up, figuring modesty was an inane notion, and whether or not it covered her body didn't matter. These Furawa soldiers had captured her, and she imagined what horrors could have occurred. Iristi shivered, gooseflesh covering her body. Nothing had happened. Yet.

  She confirmed her notion that she was in a corner of a large tent, her hands attached to one of the corner supports. In the center was a stout pole which rose to about twelve feet, branching from the top were smaller supports that held oil lanterns. They threw off flickering light. At the base of the pole was a small shrine with incense burning and two pieces of black lacquered wood that held up a katana. There was a simple bed in the opposite corner, obscured by the center pole and shrine, and a thin mat was rolled out on the ground in the corner just to her left. Food and tea were on t
he mat, spread out like a picnic. To her right was a wooden frame that held a set of multi-colored leather armor and a wood rack that held several weapons, spiked maces and thick swords. There were black lacquered chests, each bearing stout locks.

  "Well well, our prize awakens."

  The voice startled her.

  Kojo stood from behind the shrine. The motion was so smooth it almost looked like he was floating. His long black hair was pulled to the side and the light blue eyes looked more eerie in the lantern light. He was wearing a tight black silk robe, not hiding his stout and muscled body. Around his waist was a silver belt of a Favored One. Kojo gathered a bowl of tea and brought it to Iristi. She could feel his eyes upon her, staring at her half-naked form. The eyes wandered up and down, and he smiled smugly. Bringing the tea close, he lifted it to her mouth and let her drink. When she had finished the tea, he discarded the bowl and gripped the blanket, pressing his calloused hands on her thighs. She felt hollow. She wanted to vomit the tea.

  "Pity we had to keep you warm," he said. "I like what I see."

  Iristi made no reply. She forced the tea to stay down by sheer will.

  "Has the tea helped? Are you warmer now?" Kojo clenched his fists into the gray blanket and ripped it away from Iristi, completely removing it.

  Iristi pulled her legs in, trying to conceal as much of her body as she could. Her body reacted to the relative coolness and she shivered. Kojo's staring, pale, blue eyes made her shiver even more. The lecher was taking in every detail. "I'm cold, may I please have the blanket back."

  "I like you the way you are. Don't be so modest."

  "I'm not being modest. I'm cold."

  "Who are you?"

  Iristi didn't respond.

  "Very well." Kojo stood and pointed toward the entrance to the tent. "I have thousands of soldiers outside this tent and each of them would enjoy questioning you."

  Iristi knew he wasn't bluffing. He could hand her over to his troops, where they would rape her until she was dead. Iristi knew Furawa's armies did conscript women and that might be her only savior - another woman standing up for her. She doubted it though. Outside of this tent she wouldn't survive long.