by Travis Bughi
“I didn’t say a word,” Takeo replied.
“Your eyes give too much away,” Gavin said. “I saw it, too, and I agree. As for you, Nicholas, your desire to detach yourself from your true family baffles my mind. You’re the only one of us four who was born with a family, and yet you want so hard to leave them. I’ll never understand that.”
“And you’ll never have to.” Nicholas’ tone took on a warning note. “Besides, you’re wrong. Takeo was born with a family. He had his older brother.”
Three sets of eyes shifted to Takeo, and the samurai took a deep breath but said nothing.
“Okay, so you’re the only one born with real parents, then,” Gavin conceded. “Don’t try to change the subject. How can you be so against parents who’ve shown you nothing but love?”
“Nothing but love?” Nicholas huffed. “They tried to lock me down and throw away the key. It doesn’t have to make sense to you. I don’t have to explain myself, and I want to change the subject. Takeo!”
Takeo met the man’s gaze. For some reason, this caused Nicholas to lose a bit of his nerve.
“Listen,” Nicholas said, his angry tone replaced by a begging one, “I’ve been asking you for a month now about your brother. You told me once that your brother would make a vampire shiver, and I’ve heard he was brutal to you—Emily said as much—but you also seem to harbor a lot of respect for him.”
“That was an exaggeration,” Takeo said.
“Still, come on. You can’t blame me for being curious. You’ve probably got Krunk curious, too.”
“Krunk is not curious. Krunk hungry.”
“Thanks, Krunk,” Nicholas sighed. “Anyway, why are you so guarded about your brother? What did he do?”
Takeo arched back, shrugging off some of the evening’s sleepiness, which also gave him time to come up with a response.
“Why is it so important for you to know?” he asked.
“Because we’re friends now,” Nicholas said and balked. “Allies! Come on now, Takeo. You expect us to fight together, possibly die together, to join you on this several-years-long journey and never learn a thing about you? Hell, you were sleeping with my sister for how long? Probably planned on marrying her and having some twelve children or something. Did you think no one would ever bother to ask about the mysterious figure who raised you? Just admit it; you owe me this. I could have taken a ship from Lucifan and joined with some vikings in search of Valhalla, but instead I chose to go with you. Why? Because I respect you and your capabilities. You said you’d never lie to me, so if you won’t tell me about Okamoto, at least tell me why it’s so important for you to hide it.”
Nicholas’ speech ended with clenched teeth and a finger pointed at Takeo’s chest. Gavin’s eyes had gone wide, and Krunk was sitting up erect like a knight before his superior. All eyes fell on Takeo, and the world was silent save for the fire at their feet, the thunder of waterfalls in the distance, and a light breeze overhead.
Takeo had to admit that Nicholas was right. Even if he hadn’t already decided to share a part of his story tonight, that speech would have convinced him.
“What do you want to know?” Takeo asked.
Gavin blew out a chest full of air. Krunk relaxed.
“Finally. Yes!” Nicholas thrust a fist to the sky. “Alright then, here’s what I want to know. You see, before, I just wanted to know some general stuff about the man, but now you’ve got me curious. You’ve been hiding this for so long that I’m convinced he’s a monster. Tell me the absolute worst thing that Okamoto ever did to you. I’ll judge for myself if it’s that bad.”
Takeo had to think for a moment. “The worst thing I think he did, or the worst thing you will think he did?”
“Huh?” Nicholas responded, and then glanced at Gavin. “There’s a difference?”
“Believe it or not, there is,” Gavin sighed.
Nicholas put a hand to his chin and looked into the fire, thought for a moment, and then looked up. “The worst you think he did.”
“Ah, damn,” Gavin said, turning away from the fire and rolling into his blanket. “I hate this story.”
“I don’t remember how old I was.” Takeo said before any more comments could be made. “In truth, I don’t really know how old I am. I would make a good guess, though, that I was probably somewhere between five and ten years old when this happened. I’d already killed someone by then, though I don’t remember having done it. Okamoto wanted to make sure I never balked at death. A samurai’s entire existence is to serve his or her lord, and most often that means killing your lord’s enemies. I would never make a great samurai if I wouldn’t kill without question.
“We were still in Savara at this time, camped just a short walk from an oasis, and had used a fallen tree to make a fire, a rare treat, actually. Okamoto and I never had a cart or mounts, so we could never carry anything as fancy as firewood. For once, I was enjoying being a little kid, using a long stick to play with the flames and flicking burning pieces of ash into the sands to watch them fizzle out. We’d already eaten, and Okamoto was settling in for the night. I knew I’d be expected to do so soon.
“Then the sound of voices came rumbling over the hill on the wind. They were faint, like a failed attempt to whisper, and Okamoto and I quickly tossed sand over our fire to smother it. We were too late, though, and as the light winked out, three men and one woman came climbing up over the sand dune that shielded us from the oasis.
“What they saw—one young man and a little boy, both in kimonos—must have seemed funny to them because they started laughing. They already had weapons drawn, huge scimitars for three of them, but the last one had a bow. And no, it wasn’t the woman. She wasn’t an amazon. They came down the hill, one of the men saying, ‘Well what do we have here? Two boys lost in the desert? No, no, don’t get up. We’re just passing through.’ I don’t know why he told us not to get up. Neither of us had moved. Perhaps in the darkness the man had imagined it, mistaking us for two lowly bakers. Either way, I felt nothing but pity for him.
“I remember thinking, run you fool! Run now! If you want any chance to live, you will run as fast as you can and never look back. With any luck, at least one of you will survive tonight. But I didn’t say anything. It was already too late for them. These were just the lingering thoughts of a child’s desire for peace, quickly dying under the tutelage of my brother.
“They circled us, their laughter turning to quiet smiles that glowed a rotten yellow in the moonlight. Neither of us had yet to move, and I was staring at the dying fire, waiting for the inevitable. ‘Relax,’ the man said. ‘I’m not going to kill you, I swear. We’re just some poor folks passing through and in need of help. You have any food or coins to spare? What about weapons, maybe? Hm? We just need whatever you have, and we’ll be on our way. No problems, I promise.’ I think his companions might have said something to similar effect. I remember the woman taking on a motherly tone as she tried to get me to go along with it. I think they honestly just wanted to rob us and leave us alive. If we’d been anyone else, it probably would have worked.
“I’d seen Okamoto kill so many times now that I knew precisely when he would strike. The moment it came, I held my breath and shut my eyes. It wasn’t the death I was afraid of. It was him. Okamoto, when he was in a rage, was terrifying to me as a child. I heard him leap up and his katana rip free of its sheath. Within the span of one breath, I heard two heavy strikes followed by two dead thuds. I opened my eyes. Two of the robbers were lying motionless in the sand. One was the archer.
“The last two, the woman and one man, startled and brought up their weapons to fight. They took a reflexive step back, which was the worst decision they could have made. Okamoto charged the closer one, the woman, and cut her down in a vicious blow that sent a shower of blood flying towards the man. The woman didn’t even scream. None of them had. They’d all died too quickly.
“Only one remained, and he was breathing so fast I thought he’d pass out. I hoped
he would pass out. I prayed for him to pass out. I knew what was coming next.
“Okamoto looked at the last man, looked at me, and then dropped to wipe the blood from his sword. The man was stuttering something incomprehensible, too shocked to put words to what was running through his mind. I stood and drew my weapon, but Okamoto stopped me and said, ‘No sword, Takeo.’ I dropped it. I was scared, but I didn’t show it. He would have beaten me if I had.
“You can see where this is going, can’t you, Nicholas? And I know what you’re thinking. There is no way a five- to ten-year-old child can kill a full grown man with only his bare hands, especially when that man is armed with a sword. First, I’d like to remind you that I was not a normal child. Next, you should know that the man had no intention of killing me. Okamoto knew this. He could size up a man and his intentions with a single glance. This delirious robber wanted nothing more than to leave alive, and so instead of trying to kill me, the man planned to use me to make Okamoto spare his life. With any other child, it might have worked.
“When I approached, the man grabbed me and put a sword to my throat, telling Okamoto to stay away. I bit his hand, he dropped me, I tried to grab his sword and then started biting him in other places until he grabbed me again. I say this all calmly only because it happened a long time ago. In the moment, it was all a rush, and I was a scared little kid, doing everything I could to kill this man in the hopes that Okamoto wouldn’t punish me.
“I was more afraid of my brother.
“The man begged Okamoto for his life again, and then screamed when I bit off his finger. This time I darted away, but he’d had enough at that point and went chasing after me, swinging the sword to kill me. His finger was bleeding profusely though, and he stumbled in the sand and lost the grip on his sword. I got it free from him and prepared to kill him with it, but Okamoto caught my eye, and I froze. Reluctantly, I tossed the sword away.
“The man crawled towards me, cursing, and I kicked sand in his eyes. All thoughts of escaping alive had left him, and he was now trying to kill me, just as much as I was trying to kill him. I used his blindness to run up and kick him in the head. Then I gripped his ear and jumped on his back to wrap my arms around his neck, trying to choke him, but I wasn’t strong enough. He almost got me, but his hands were slick with blood, and I leapt away before he could grapple with and kill me.
“Bleeding out from his missing finger and unable to wipe the sand from his eyes, the man was thrashing around on the sands. I looked to Okamoto, and he frowned at me. ‘Kill him. Not injure,’ he said, then pointed at his own eyes. I nodded and then went up to the thrashing man, hooked my thumbs, and gouged out—”
“Stop!” Gavin yelled.
The knight whirled over, tossing aside his blankets and making the fire dance in the wind. Takeo’s audience went rigid. Nicholas stared with lips and eyes wide open, and Krunk’s bottom lip was trembling.
“Stop,” Gavin shouted again. “I’ve heard enough. I don’t want to hear this again. Did you get it, Nicholas?”
Nicholas blinked. His face seemed a shade paler than Takeo remembered.
“Do you really need to hear it?” Gavin begged. “You know what happens next, don’t you? Have you heard enough?”
“Krunk has heard enough,” the ogre whispered.
Nicholas took in a breath as if he hadn’t done so in a while. Takeo blinked and relaxed, only just now realizing he’d tensed. The two of them exchanged looks, and Nicholas finally closed his mouth and licked his lips.
“I get it,” Nicholas said. “Your brother, he was a monster.”
Takeo nodded. “The very best.”
Chapter 13
After that night, Takeo was truly glad he’d chosen to go by land to Juatwa rather than by sea. The Khaz Mal Mountains offered an unparalleled sense of solidarity, current company aside, an escape from the darkest recesses of his mind. Fortunately, Takeo’s short story seemed to have done the impossible. It satisfied Nicholas’ curiosity, at least about Okamoto’s parenting, and no further probes were made. Instead, Takeo listened each night to Nicholas either talk about himself or ask about Krunk and Gavin.
“So you were a thief?” Nicholas said, eating some berries they’d picked that morning. “A thief who became a knight? I’m surprised the angels allowed that.”
“Thief isn’t quite right.” Gavin shrugged. “I was more a scavenger than anything else. Discarded food never has an owner who wants to beat you. Only when there was nothing to scavenge did I resort to stealing, well, unless the stealing was easy and worth it. I could hardly ever resist a foreigner, for example, who left his money pouch exposed and tied by a string, or a woman who set her bag down with a loaf of bread sticking out. I got so good at spotting those things that I’d notice them even after years of being in the knighthood. Sometimes I’d even spot the orphans and beggars about to take advantage of them.”
“Did you stop them?” Nicholas asked.
“Honestly? Not always,” Gavin replied ashamedly. “On one hand, I wanted to uphold the law and represent the angels, but sometimes I wouldn’t see the orphan or the beggar, I’d see myself, ragged with a stomach bloated from hunger. Then I’d look at the plump victim, who obviously lacked for nothing, and I just couldn’t bring myself to stop it. One time, just once, I even distracted Duncan. He was a good man, but he always believed the law came first.”
“Gavin believes in good,” Krunk said in a proud, approving voice.
“I do,” the knight said and smiled that charming smile of his, “but the law and the concept of goodness are not always on the same side. I always stuck to the side of good when I could. And to answer your other question: no, the angels did not approve of my stealing. However, they did approve of my view. When the law gets in the way of common decency, it is the law that must break first.”
“You would make a poor samurai,” Takeo said.
When that conversation occurred, they were nearly out of the Khaz Mal Mountains. It was the first time Takeo had admitted that he was glad of their company.
As spring came into full bloom, the weather turned the scenery pleasantly lush. There were plenty of bushes and plants with berries to pick, countless sources of fresh water, and days full of bright sunshine that neither baked the skin nor removed the chill from the air. It was almost as pleasant as Juatwa, and Takeo, for once, understood why people could bother living in these mountains.
That’s not to say there wasn’t an edge to things. Lingering snow straddled the high cliffs, and every night, a cold wind forced the adventurers to bundle up tightly. Finding a comfortable place to sleep was the greatest challenge of all, and Takeo quickly realized he’d be better off getting used to sleeping on rocks than trying to clear enough of them away to find a flat patch of ground. They still had to ration food, and even had they not, climbing was a challenge as they gasped for breath in the thin air. Still, for what it was worth, things could have been much, much worse. One day, near the border with The North, they struck upon a group of twenty dwarves led by an old, heavy-set dwarf named Tissyl Arvaria. By human standards, she appeared to be around half a century old, but judging by what he knew of dwarves, Takeo placed her at roughly four hundred. She’d shaven off all of her hair, except for some grey whiskers on her upper lip and one long white hair growing out of a dark mole, just below her right eye. Takeo had actually mistaken her for a male until she spoke, though he hid his surprise better than Nicholas.
“Ah!” the viking shouted. “Damn, you scared me. I thought you were a man.”
“Just because I shave don’t make me no manling.” Tissyl squinted and shook her finger.
“That’s not what I meant—”
“Shut your trap hole, young'in,” Tissyl said, wobbling over to stare up into Nicholas’ face. “What manners you have. I’ve spent more time in the privy then you’ve been alive. Who’s in charge of you lot?”
“I suppose that’d be me.” Takeo bowed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss. . .”
<
br /> “Tissyl Arvaria.” The dwarf smiled, showing only four teeth and plenty of gaps. “And by all the world, what is a strange lot like you doing way up here, and which one of you painted that orc purple?”
After Takeo explained that Krunk was an ogre, not an orc, and that yes, there was a difference, Tissyl’s attitude turned a great deal friendlier, and the dwarves gathered around to exchange news of the world with the travelers.
As a show of good faith, Takeo went first.
He explained to Tissyl whom they were and where they were headed, and he then answered Tissyl’s many questions concerning the rumors they’d heard from travelers through the mountains. Yes, Takeo explained, Lucifan really did survive the battle intact, Jabbar was dead, as was the Vassal, and Lucifan was ruled by a vampire. Takeo revealed that he didn’t know much about Savara and even less about Juatwa, beyond that Lady Xuan had yet to unify the land.
Tissyl nodded to this, squinting one eye and rubbing a wrinkled hand over her double chin. Takeo held his breath when the wind changed direction to put her upwind, bringing with it the smell of old cheese.
“I got one other rumor, a strange one,” Tissyl said. “I don’t know if you’ve heard anything about it or not. Word is that not all the angels are dead. There’s still one left alive, and he’s hiding in the Khaz Mal Mountains. You heard anything about that?”
It took Takeo some effort, but he held the old dwarf’s gaze a little longer, then slowly turned to Gavin.
“Sir Gavin Shaw there,” Takeo said and pointed, “he’s an ex-knight. If any one of us four would know about the angels, it’d be him.”
