by Travis Bughi
“I was on a pirate ship,” she started, “chasing after the woman Takeo spoke of. The ship I was on got smashed by a roc, and as far as I know, I’m the only survivor. The woman I’m chasing is called Heliena, and she’s in Juatwa. She killed my grandmother with basilisk poison almost a year ago. She put it into me, too, wanting to kill me, but an angel sacrificed himself to save me. The poison is still in me, though, and it’s caused some subtle changes. One of them is that I’m apparently immune to poison. I thought it was just basilisk poison, but now it seems it’s more than that. Honestly, that’s the best answer I can give you, as farfetched as it sounds. And I won’t make you ask, Takeo. Koll and I were captured separately by those slavers you purchased us from. That’s why you found me there.”
Takeo nodded his thanks. Everyone’s breathing was normal by now, and they had settled back into the sand for some comfort. They’d found a tall dune to give them a small measure of shelter from the wind, and it was a blessed place as far as Emily was concerned. In the wake of her story, Koll let loose a long, drawn out whistle, nodding his head and widening his green eyes.
“I don’t suppose you could have made that tale any shorter, eh lass?” Koll smirked. “You would make one terrible satyr—that much I know. But you seem a little worse for wear, so I’ll let that slide. I hope the samurai has a more interesting story.”
Koll turned to Takeo and raised an open palm, arm extended out.
“So tell us, Takeo, why are we here? I hardly believed you when you told me we were going to save Emily, but I caught on quickly enough. So what’s your story? Make it long. How’d a samurai fall in with that lot, and why’d you turn on them? I thought you warriors were all about loyalty? Come now, my spirits are high, and I’m in the mood for a grand tale.”
Takeo nodded and settled back further, putting his palms into the sand and leaning on his arms. The sand latched on to his sweat-drenched skin, and Emily looked at her own arms, brushing off the sand that was lodged between her fingers. She kept her ear turned, though, listening to Takeo’s breathing in the slowly fading sunlight. Emily wished they could find better shelter, but she knew that no such thing existed out in Savara’s open stretches. That much she had learned quickly.
Takeo didn’t hold back his tale.
“My lord, or I should say my old lord, Ichiro Katsu, sold me to a rakshasa purposefully. Having heard the ancient tales of their evil and knowing my skill with the sword, he thought it the best way to ensure I’d stay a slave under a wretched master. He had my rival auction me off in a rakshasa-friendly town, at a slave market that might as well have been a butcher shop. Jabbar bought me and some sorry merchant for roughly the same price as a dying karkadann. He and his crew were raiders and mercenaries for hire, recently finished with a job. They’ve captured people and sold them into slavery before, and I think Jabbar had really just planned on eating us.
“The merchant was an older lady, a widow, who’d been ducking her late husband’s gambling debts for a long time. She’d hidden her wealth and thought to go into hiding in western Savara, but she was caught. Knowing they’d only kill her if she paid them, she decided to spit in her captors’ faces rather than tell them where she hid her treasure. They thought to scare her by selling her, but she followed through, and they only got petty change. They couldn’t really go back on selling her. Rakshasas don’t take kindly to that sort of thing.
“Now, because she hid her wealth in two places, she hoped that Jabbar would let her free if she only told him about the first place and let him have at it. I was there for this, and it was not a pretty sight. She accidently said ‘one place,’ hinting there were more, and when she denied it, they beat her badly. In the end, she told them the truth, that she’d hidden her wealth in Phoenix Temple and in Kings’ Hearth far to Savara’s east. She promised a horde of treasure, all her husband had worked for his entire life, but died just after saying there were hidden traps.
“They were going to use me as the trap finder first, but while they were debating, they sidetracked on what they would do with the wealth. I overheard Jabbar reminisce about the good times when he’d controlled a small army and how he wished to amass such a force again. I saw my opportunity and took it.
“I told him about Ichiro Katsu, my old shogun, and that I knew how to find him. I told the rakshasa that he could impersonate the shogun and wield his samurai armies. I promised a vast sum of power he could never obtain without my help.”
“And he believed you?” Koll asked, the doubt obvious in his voice.
“No,” Takeo admitted. “They beat me. I continued to profess the option at every opportunity, though, telling him as much as I could to add credibility to my story. Apparently it set Jabbar’s mind in motion. In the towns we stopped at, he had Eisa gather information on what was going on in Juatwa. He heard about Ichiro, the war, and how the shogun had recently taken on another wife—even the name of my rival, Renshu Miyazi, trickled down as one of Ichiro’s generals.
“If there’s one thing rakshasas love more than the taste of human flesh, it’s the taste of power. His hunger got the best of him, and he had heard enough to listen to me.
“So I told him all I knew. At the time, I just wanted to be free and alive. Revenge was a strong, secondary goal. However, Jabbar heard enough to sway his iron-gripped rule, and I even managed to convince the others. They offered me a place at their side, and I took it. They weren’t worried about me turning on them. Renshu hadn’t told them who I was. He thought I’d get worse treatment if he told them I was lowly scum. The way Jabbar and the others saw it, I was one, inexperienced peon sold for his weight in sand. They never lost an ounce of sleep. They thought me trivial. They only kept me alive because I knew Juatwa and could act as a guide.”
“And you stayed with them?” Emily scowled.
“I wasn’t going to forever,” Takeo shook his head. “I just didn’t have any better options at the time. If I had tried to leave, they’d have grown suspicious and enslaved me again. If I tried to run, I’d have to hide, and I didn’t know where to go. I was trying to answer that very question when we came to the next slave market and saw you. After that, I knew my path with sudden clarity.”
“How so?” Koll demanded.
“Emily and I are after the same person,” Takeo replied. “Heliena killed my brother, Emily’s grandmother, and Emily, too. That and, well, I felt that I owed Emily for my mistake. I not only fought against her, but I killed her friend.”
“Who?” Koll asked.
“A minotaur,” Emily answered. “His name was Rautor Bloodhoof, and he was an honorable, brave soul.”
“He was,” Takeo admitted. “Anyone who would be willing stand up to a vampire has to be. So, for that, I am sorry. I truly am, Emily.”
Koll’s eyes flew from Emily to Takeo. The two had locked eyes, passing a silence between them that Koll could hardly avoid. The viking gaped in disbelief and then suddenly laughed.
“A minotaur?” he asked, astounded. “By yourself?”
“It was a surprise attack,” Takeo answered.
“Surprise attack or not,” Koll slammed a fist into the sand, “that’s an epic feat! Come! You must tell me the story!”
“No,” Emily interrupted. “No stories about the death of my friends.”
Takeo nodded his agreement, closing his eyes as he nodded.
“Bah!” Koll waved a hand, “you two are no fun. You act like dying in combat is a sad thing. And to fight a minotaur singlehandedly? What a glorious battle that must have been! You don’t disappoint, Samurai. I feel your first story was sufficient. I can sleep peacefully now, knowing the chance of you slitting my throat is rather slim. If you do, though, try to cut under my rope burn. I want whoever puts my head on a pike to see that I’ve survived a hanging.”
And with that said, Koll plopped down to the sand and gave a good stretch. He splayed out his hair like some sort of shallow pillow and then curled up against the wind. As darkness crept in, the wind pus
hed the heat away again. It would be another uncomfortably cold night, yet Emily felt this would not disturb her. She also felt sleep creeping in. She looked at Takeo, and he met the gaze for a moment before glancing away. His face was blank, almost impossible to read. His eyes, black like his hair, reflected the horizon’s shine.
“So,” Emily muttered, “we should probably get some sleep then.”
He nodded but otherwise did not move. Emily could see that her gaze was making him uncomfortable, but she didn’t much care.
“I want you to know that I really am grateful for you saving us back there,” she said, “but you should also know I haven’t forgotten everything that’s happened between us. Just because you also seek revenge does not make us friends. It barely makes us allies.”
Takeo pulled up his pack and opened it. He stayed quiet and began to search through it. His mannerisms suggested he wasn’t listening. Emily knew he was.
“Do you expect me just to trust you now? To follow you without question?”
Takeo stopped and sighed. He blinked a few times, slowly, while staring into the sand. Emily waited patiently for an answer, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.
“No,” Takeo finally replied. “I do not expect that. What you decide to do is your business. If you desire to travel alone, I won’t stop you, but that might be hard to do as we’re both headed in the same direction. This is, of course, assuming your intention is still to reach Juatwa. If so, then I can only request that you give me a chance. It’s where I’m headed, and I know the way.”
He went back to shuffling through his pack, and Emily looked down with a heavy sigh. She was indeed going to Juatwa. She was in a foreign land, traveling to yet another foreign land, and was in a sorry state as it was. She needed a guide. Savara was not a place to be picky.
The sand on her palms was rapidly cooling in the fading light, and she felt a shiver run up her spine. She didn’t turn back to Takeo, believing her silence to be answer enough. Takeo seemed to take it as such, because he bent over and grasped something in his pack.
“Here,” he said, pulling out his blanket and throwing it to her. “You shouldn’t leave your wound exposed tonight. Wrap up tight. We won’t need a watch. If you change your mind and aren’t here in the morning, I’ll understand. You can even take the blanket.”
Takeo rolled over like Koll, back to Emily, and curled up to shelter his body from the wind. Emily looked at the blanket and thought to throw it back; it seemed weak of her to keep it. Somehow, though, she knew the samurai was right. She couldn’t afford to let minor wounds fester and become a liability. Whether alone or in a group, she needed to be able to move.
She swore and wrapped the blanket around her.
Chapter 22
They awoke early before the sun rose. As usual, not a cloud was in the sky, and yet somehow that didn’t stop the day’s light from foreshadowing its arrival. The stars were nearly invisible as the inevitable dawn streaked light over their heads, banishing the deeper darkness with ambient illumination. Emily probably could have slept longer, thanks to the blanket that had kept her warm for the first night in too long. Only the breeze and the loud noise of Koll waking and stretching stirred her. She wanted to close her eyes and drift off again, but she knew that such a luxury was not a wise choice at this moment.
Opposite Koll, Takeo was also awake. His long, straight hair was undone, hanging loose in the wind. Some sort of string was hanging from his mouth, and he appeared to be gathering his hair together. Emily noted once again how it was longer than hers, at least a full hand’s width past his shoulders, but she made no comment, having manners enough to forsake her curiosity. She kept her eyes directed elsewhere but watched out of the corner of her vision as Takeo tied his hair up tightly into a small queue and secured it with the string. Then his eyes fell on Koll.
“You know,” Takeo broke the silence, “I never did get your name.”
“Kollskegg Ludinson,” Koll grinned mightily, “the Sturdy. Ha! Feel a bit safer now, don’t you? I’ll bet you didn’t know you had a legend in your midst, eh Samurai?”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Takeo gave a nod. “My name is Takeo Karaoshi. And I apologize, but I have not heard of you.”
Koll gave an exasperated sigh and buried his face into an open palm. His shaggy hair fell over his face, and it suddenly dawned on Emily that she might have the shortest hair in this group. The thought was strange to her.
“Another one?” Koll said, his voice straining with pain. “By Valhalla, I’m trapped in a land of savages. Of all the places to be stranded, why did it have to be here?”
“I’m sorry I haven’t heard your story,” Takeo apologized again. “Would you mind telling it to me?”
“Eh, I wish I could. However, it’s a grand tale, epic in scope. There’ll be dragons and hydras, and really, you’ve never heard anything like it. I’d tell it to you, but we don’t got the time for that. I must be on my way. Jabbar will be out any moment, and I will not cheapen my story by cutting it short. You’ll just have to ask the next viking you come across to tell you the tale.”
Koll stood and stretched his neck, twisting it sideways until it cracked. He popped his knuckles next, and a faint smile crossed his lips.
“Wait. You’re leaving us?” Emily piped up. “Why? We should stick together.”
She made no effort to hide her dismay. For reasons she couldn’t quite explain, Koll’s presence made her feel safer. She wasn’t ready to be left alone with Takeo despite the fact that she knew she’d be traveling with him. The samurai had made a strong point the previous night, and try as she might, she couldn’t think of a single good reason to ignore his logic.
“Please, don’t go,” Emily begged. “Three is stronger than two.”
“Yes,” Takeo nodded, “you should stay, Kollskegg. You’re right about Jabbar, so we should stick together at least until we’re clear of Savara.”
“Call me Koll, please, and I don’t need any help getting out of here. I don’t know either of you, and I’m not traveling to Juatwa. I’m heading north, straight up and over Khaz Mal if I have to! I want out of this heat and back on a viking ship. That rakshasa is going to find his way out of that temple real rotten soon, and he’s going to be madder than a dragon robbed of her eggs! If I were you two, I’d stop asking me to protect you and start running. It’s a wonder we weren’t all killed in our sleep by the beast.”
He turned to leave, faced due north, and put one foot in front of the other. He was clearly angry and not in the mood for further discussion, but Emily wasn’t finished yet. She stood up and called out after him.
“Would you stay for gold?” she asked.
Koll laughed but kept walking. He tilted his head again, cracking the other half of his neck, and then looked back just enough to expose his cheek.
“Not likely,” a hint of a smile evident on his cheek.
“Well what if it was a fortune?” Emily continued, raising her voice. “If you recall, that treasure Jabbar was after was only the first hidden place! There’s a second one, and they said that one was bigger. What’d you call it, Takeo? Kings’ Hearth?”
Takeo nodded.
“Bah,” the viking waved the notion away, reaching the top of the nearest sand dune, “I didn’t see no treasure! Most likely that was nothing but a farce told by the merchant to keep herself alive. If I were you two, I wouldn’t travel after false gold.”
“It was trapped, though!” Emily pointed out. “Surely if it was fake, then there wouldn’t have been a trap! Koll, stop, please! Hear me out!”
Koll stopped and sighed heavily before turning around completely. He was up above them now, maybe fifteen paces away, and they had to raise their voices to be heard over the wind. The sun was just beginning to peak off to Emily’s right, and its fresh light reflected in Koll’s blue eyes.
“I’ve been listening, girl, and that may be so,” Koll nodded, “but that still doesn’t mean it’s worth the trip. The trea
sure might be too well hidden or just a measly sum, not to mention you nearly died to the first trap. Oh, also, let’s not forget the rakshasa on your heels. That’s the first place he’ll be heading if he can’t find your trail.”
“He’ll lag behind us,” Emily argued. “Didn’t you see what I did to his foot?”
Koll gave a hearty laugh, throwing his head back and placing his hands on his hips.
“You don’t know a thing about rakshasas, do you, lass?” he chuckled. “They heal like griffins! I guarantee he’ll be walking normally by today. By tomorrow, you won’t even see a scar. You hardly scratched that kitty.”
Emily felt her cheeks flush warm and sighed. She was out of ideas but couldn’t give up yet. They needed to stick together.
“What’s the problem?” Takeo asked Koll, joining them on his feet. “Are you afraid?”
“HA!” Koll gave another hearty laugh. “Me? AFRAID? HAHA! Let me tell you something, lad. I was slaying orcs by the dozens before you were even born! I paid no satyrs for the stories they sing of me. I earned every victory. I have children older than you who have slayed fiercer creatures! Why, at your age, I already had several trophy rings. Look at my arms!”
Koll stepped off the dune’s top and extended his arms.
“You see these, eh lad? You see the tan lines? All the way from my wrist to my shoulder they run. Look at them! Both of my arms were covered in trophy rings before I was robbed. I barely made it to shore, I was so weighed down by the iron of my achievements. You see this burn around my neck? Eh? You know what that is? I’ll tell you what it is: death, boy. Death herself has marked me as one she fears. I wouldn’t back down from a rakshasa any more than I’d cower before an einherjar come straight from the gates of Valhalla! I’m not running from the rakshasa—I’m trying to draw him to me.”
