by Travis Bughi
In Juatwa, there were only two types of towns: keeps and villages.
The first type, the huge keeps like Lady Xuan’s and Ichiro Katsu’s fortresses, were made of stone, wood, and art. These were intended to display the ruling daimyo’s power and influence and also to act as a place to house their armies and protect against attack. Their buildings were permanent, dominating, and intimidating; their inhabitants intended to stay until the end of time.
The second type, the villages, were like those Takeo and his companions passed through, or like those of the ninjas. These towns were built of nothing sturdier than wood or canvas. Their structures, often made as small as possible, were not only easier and quicker to build, but also easier to abandon.
In Juatwa’s ever shifting tides of power, any human not bound by blood to one daimyo or another made the most of their life by changing sides and locations with ease. When one daimyo decided to wage war against another, he or she would attack their enemy’s supply lines, which more often than not meant the small villages that produced food. Thus, if the lands of their daimyo were under attack, sometimes the safest thing for a normal everyday villager to do was to pack up and leave. The easiest way to do that was to own no more than could be carried on your back and to avoid any attachment to the lazy lean-to structure you called home.
Takeo made sure to leave these villages before nightfall, but Gavin only asked about it once.
“Wait, we’re moving on?” the knight stuttered as Takeo led them away from the first village and out into the foothills. “Shouldn’t we stay here until morning?”
Takeo didn’t answer until they were well clear of the village. Only then did he bring to bear the news all foreigners dreaded to hear: that they were hated and distrusted.
“In Juatwa, any warrior that isn’t a samurai is a cause for worry,” Takeo explained. “They are considered honorless, mercenaries who would kill and hurt anyone simply for the joy of it. Samurai without a lord, called ronin, which I am, or samurai of a different lord than the one who controls your land are only a tiny step above this. Worse yet, warriors who travel with non-human warriors, like Krunk, are considered to be half-beasts themselves. If we were to stay here, we would receive no hospitality. If we were unlucky, we might actually receive hostility. If our luck were truly rotten, we might be welcomed and then poisoned out of fear. However, the villagers would rather let sleeping komainu lie. If we were to move on, they would do nothing to stop us.”
“A sleeping what?” Gavin asked.
Takeo sighed and began educating his friends on Juatwa’s creatures and culture as best he could. By the time they reached Lady Xuan’s keep, all three of them knew what Emily had before she died.
It wasn’t enough, but it’d have to do.
They saw Lady Xuan’s keep a day before they arrived. First, they saw the pyramid-shaped mountain, oddly placed and strange because it was alone. Perhaps this particular mountain had split off from its family in Khaz Mal to explore the great beyond. Perhaps it was still doing so, slowly but inevitably moving. If it did have such a quest, Lady Xuan’s ancestors had neither asked nor cared before making their home atop it, filling out the rocks in a spiral of towers and walls that defied the doubtless constant assault of wind. Both mountain and fortress loomed over Takeo and his companions, watching them with an eternal presence.
Surrounding the mountain was a sprawling countryside of homesteads and villages, which supported Lady Xuan and her army. This countryside fed off the stability of such close proximity to power. Homes here were built with more care than the rickety shacks on the fringes of Juatwa’s invisible and shifting borders, and the difference was apparent not just visibly, but also mentally. As Takeo and the others strolled by farms and into the nearby town, they were not viewed with nearly as much suspicion, fear, and hostility as they had been elsewhere.
Krunk, however, was the exception to this.
Juatwa had many terrifying creatures, but one of the worst was the oni. These red-skinned creatures were as big as minotaurs, but hideous, terrifying, and immortal. They had human intelligence but lacked human sympathy. For the most part, oni saw humans as free roaming livestock, though sometimes, if a human was truly determined, they might be able to convince an oni to kill someone in exchange for something. The now dead Lord Jiro Hanu had done this, convincing a platoon of oni to fight for his armies, but that was exceptionally rare. Most of the time, the sight of an oni sent anyone and everyone running. Unfortunately, an ogre looked like a smaller, purple version of an oni.
They got no more than a few buildings into the town before komainu-mounted samurai came barreling down the street to intercept them.
Gavin, Nicholas, and Krunk all recoiled at the sight of the charging komainu, and Takeo could hardly blame them for that. Komainu were big enough to ride but looked less like a pegasus or a unicorn and more like a wild beast, just barely hanging onto the fringes of sanity. Each had a huge mane, a massive mouth filled with teeth, and a hunger in their eyes that bordered on insatiable. They were also thick-bodied, more so than a warg. A trained komainu was a terror on the battlefield.
A total of five charged them down, clearing the streets instantly. Takeo felt his companions draw close to him, and he stayed calm, not just out of habit, but also for their benefit.
“Halt!” one of the mounted samurai called out. “Halt there. Stop!”
“We are stopped,” Takeo replied flatly.
“In the name of Empress Xuan, who are you?” the samurai shouted.
Takeo took a moment to examine the man before answering. He was middle aged, with a short trimmed mustache and hair drawn into a queue, but his black eyes told Takeo how best to act. They flicked at Takeo, but watched Krunk, who shifted nervously.
The moment of truth. Does my name still carry weight?
“My name is Takeo Karaoshi,” he said. “I seek an audience with Empress Xuan. I must apologize. I had not heard she was Empress yet. I thought Juatwa still warred with itself.”
“There are a few holdouts,” the man replied. “Two Katsu cousins and the traitorous Zhenzhen Hanu. They will bow to Juatwa’s true rule or perish as their predecessors did.”
“I have no doubts,” Takeo lied.
The man paused to look over Takeo’s companions, one by one, before settling back on Takeo. His eyes took in Takeo’s short hair, his stature, his face, and his katana. The man swallowed.
“I have heard of you,” he said. “I saw your brother once.”
“Many have,” acknowledged Takeo.
“It was a long time ago, at a distance, but you look enough alike. I’ll inform my superiors of your arrival, but I must escort you to the castle gate.” His eyes glanced at Krunk again. “You keep strange company, Takeo Karaoshi. You gave some of our people quite a scare. They came running, saying there was a deformed oni on the loose.”
“Krunk is an ogre,” Takeo said. “And, as you can see, he is quite tame. If you have anyone in your midst who has been to Lucifan, they can confirm that.”
“I’d have mistaken him for an orc before an oni,” the man continued.
“That’s happened, too,” Takeo replied and walked towards the gate.
“You know, as a side note,” Gavin whispered, “anyone just realize how strange it is that oni, orcs, and ogres all have a similar sounding name and look alike?”
“Krunk thinks Krunk got bad end of deal. Krunk should have been oni and immortal.”
“I wouldn’t wish for that if I were you,” Takeo warned. “If there’s anything Emily taught the world, it’s that immortals don’t exist. They’re just monsters that are more difficult to kill.”
“That’s another interesting thing,” Gavin pointed out. “I remember Emily saying that, too, but you know, she never made killing immortals look all that difficult.”
* * *
They were led up the mountainside towards Lady Xuan’s keep. Climbing the steep and occasionally treacherous road was no easy feat, and they travell
ed a good long hour to reach the keep’s massive front gates. All the while, Takeo couldn’t help but observe each and every aspect of the place, measuring it all as if he were a soldier readying for battle or a general preparing to command his troops.
The first and most important thing he took into account was the path’s grade. It wasn’t so steep that a cart couldn’t be pulled and pushed up it, which was expected because Lady Xuan needed supplies just as much as invaders needed to haul up battering rams, but it was steep enough to provide the defenders a solid advantage. After that, he noted that the path wasn’t exactly wide, just enough for a single cart with a few spots where one could move out of the way for another. Neither boded well for an assault.
As for the keep, it wasn’t so high up that a catapult or sturdy cannon wouldn’t be able to reach it, but such a device would have to be large and strong, thus taking time, effort, and additional supplies to set up. Takeo didn’t know much about siege works, but he knew enough to understand their basic logistics. The attackers would have to work against gravity while the defenders would be aided by it.
At three separate points along the path leading up to the keep, they encountered a wall and gate built into the mountain. Once again, this was not unexpected, but any attacker that came charging up here would have to break not just one gate, but four, including the one into the keep itself, all of which would take time, men, and effort. Meanwhile, the attackers would be slaughtered from above by arrows, rocks, boiling oil, or worse. If Lady Xuan kept large boulders up at her keep, she could roll one down the pathway and crush hundreds. Such a thing might almost seem comical if not for the horde of bodies it would leave in its wake.
Alongside all this, Takeo did note one thing that might benefit attackers.
This mountain was not immune to the effects of Juatwa’s climate. Trees heavy with foliage and vines blocked many portions of the path from sight, which would grant soldiers temporary shelter from the defenders. Unfortunately, this would be of little comfort. Likely, if attacked, the first thing Lady Xuan would do would be to clear and harvest all the trees, gathering the wood for herself and denying the invaders their only advantage.
Now that Takeo had seen Lady Xuan’s fortress, he better understood how Katsu had formulated his plans to defeat her. If memory served, his intention had been to conquer all the land around her and force her to either submit or starve.
Takeo could not come up with a better plan.
At the top of the mountain, at the keep’s final gate, they were forced to surrender their weapons and gear. None hesitated except for Nicholas, who protested that if they were betrayed and killed, he would never reach Valhalla without a weapon in hand.
“Grab a weapon from one of the guards,” Gavin said. “You don’t have to hold your weapon, right? Just any weapon?”
Nicholas paused, the expression on his face indicating he’d never considered this before. Then he relented and surrendered his maul. The guard looked relieved, and it wasn’t until that moment Takeo realized Nicholas’ size was intimidating the man. Or was that Takeo’s reputation? Or Krunk’s terrifying face?
Actually, come to think of it, besides Gavin, Takeo had to admit that he and his companions looked a fearsome bunch.
They were led inside, and Takeo’s eyes continued their prowling, combing over the place for strengths and weaknesses. In a single sweep, he considered everything from the perspectives of both an attacker and a defender.
He saw thick walls, triangle-shaped barricades, and a stone gatehouse with a steel door. The huge towers were a tad too thin, in his opinion, but had to be built this way to utilize the mountain’s lack of flat surfaces. Were he an invader, the first thing he’d do would be to launch a cannon or rock to pulverize these towers and bring their rubble down on the defenders. What chaos that would be, and what terrible effect that would have on Lady Xuan’s forces. Worse yet, if she or someone of similar importance were in the tower, they would be dead for sure, and the head of the beast would be severed in a single blow.
Conquering an entire army through the death of one soul would be, to Takeo, the most ideal and efficient outcome for any war.
They were led to the center of the keep’s courtyard and made to wait while Takeo’s presence was announced. It took a bit of time, as expected. The messenger would first have to hunt down his superior, who would then have to hunt down his or her superior, delivering the message each time, and so on and so forth until lo and behold someone with authority would come.
As luck would have it, the person who emerged was a fat, older man in a regal kimono with his chin tilted upwards at an angle that surely must have taken an effort to maintain.
Takeo didn’t immediately recognize the man, but he did recognize his mannerisms, his clothing, and the way the soldiers around him shifted when he came into sight. This chubby fellow was Juatwa royalty.
“Follow my lead,” Takeo whispered, “and don’t speak unless spoken to.”
“What? Why?” Nicholas demanded.
“Do as I say.” Takeo let a hint of anger touch his words.
When he knelt to the ground, Gavin, Nicholas, and Krunk were only a hair behind him. Takeo kept his eyes on the dirt, letting his ears tell him how close the man came. Meanwhile, he racked his brain trying to remember the face, and it came to him just as the man stopped.
“Lord Pircha Nguyen, it is an honor,” Takeo said.
It was expected of people such as him to say these things to people such as Pircha.
“Takeo Karaoshi,” Pircha replied, distastefully, “the ronin.”
“I sincerely thank you for granting me an audience,” Takeo continued. “I am truly grateful. With your permission, I have come to request an audience with the Empress. It is a matter of great, personal importance. Your assistance would not be forgotten.”
If memory served Takeo correctly, the Lord Pircha Nguyen had a reputation for being a pretentious man. Nearly all daimyo families were, of course, but Takeo thought it best to be overly courteous in this situation. For a moment, though, he thought he might have made a mistake. Pircha took a long time to reply.
“Personal importance, is it? Well, I can’t imagine anything personal to you being important. Have we met before?”
“We have, Lord,” Takeo said. “I accompanied the late Lord Ichiro Katsu on a diplomatic meeting between his forces and yours. My brother and I were both there.”
“Ah yes,” Pircha breathed deeply, and Takeo caught the rustle of fabric as the man folded his arms. “I do remember your brother. You were there, too, standing in his shadow, riding his coat tails? Am I right?”
Takeo paused before answering. It seemed Pircha had come by his unpleasant reputation honestly, and Takeo sensed that the lord was intentionally trying to aggravate him, but he also knew it wouldn’t work. He couldn’t say why, but words rarely had any effect on him unless they were backed by physical pain. However, the concept was vastly intriguing.
Why would Pircha take this sort of interest in him? Takeo should be a worthless peon before this man’s eyes, unworthy of any consideration or thought. The fact that Pircha was insulting Takeo could only mean that Takeo had somehow insulted Pircha.
Interesting indeed.
“Yes, Lord,” Takeo replied flatly. “My brother casts a tall shadow.”
“Indeed,” Pircha sneered. “Well, while you’ve been out here enjoying my hospitality, I have given considerable thought to your request. You’ll understand my mother tires very easily these days and admitting guests to her is no small feat. I can’t imagine why you’d wish to speak with her, but I’ll have the reason here and now.”
Takeo swore silently, and his eyes darted left and right. The other samurai in the courtyard had taken notice. He had hoped to do this request in private, but Pircha’s words left no room for argument. He took a deep breath and obeyed.
“I come seeking knowledge of my past, Lord Pircha. I never knew my parents, nor anyone else who bore the Karaoshi name besid
es Okamoto. However, I do know that my family was sworn in service to Lord Ichiro Katsu. I also know that those closest to Katsu were captured by you. If I could please speak with them, it would be most appreciated.”
Pircha sighed heavily, and Takeo caught the shrug of clothing at the man’s feet, which said the lord was shaking from side to side. The theatrics were beginning to annoy Takeo.
“No small request, I see,” Pircha said. “You want to be accepted into our home and prowl the depths of our prison. For all I know, you’re here to deliver a message for the Katsu family—or receive one. Not to mention that’s two separate requests. One to speak to my dear, poor, old mother, and the other to interview our prisoners. Which one is it?”
“I’d only requested the first with the intention of requesting the second, but if you’ll grant me the interviews, there would be no need for me to meet with the Empress.”
“I’m afraid it’s too late for that, Takeo. I sent a messenger to my mother, and now she’ll be expecting you. I could send her away, but that would be cruel and hurtful. Were I you, I’d exercise a bit more caution in dealing with your elders, a bit more respect if you can muster any. A ronin, indeed. You understand your friends, here, will not be joining you?”
“Yes, Lord,” Takeo said.
“They’ll be outside the keep.”
“Yes, Lord.”
“At the bottom of the mountain.”
Takeo paused. He heard Nicholas groan.
“Yes, Lord.”
“Good, then you may follow me.”
Pircha turned and left, leaving Takeo to follow.
Behind him, almost out of earshot, Nicholas complained, “I think if I strangled that man with my bare hands, the valkyries would admit me to Valhalla simply on principle.”
Chapter 18
In his lifetime, Takeo had been in the presence of many lords and ladies, and as far as the throne room of Lady Xuan went, her surroundings leaned towards the conservative side. That is to say, conservative for a daimyo so powerful she could call herself a shogun.
