Emily's Saga

by Travis Bughi

  Emily smiled. “I won’t, and thank you.”

  Just then, the hatch to the deck flopped open, and one of the vikings popped his head into the hull. His long hair cascaded down, illuminated by the light, and Emily had to blink a few times as her eyes adjusted. The moment they did, she saw the viking had locked eyes with the captain.

  “Matilda, ma’am,” he said, voice stern. “You better get up here. You, too.”

  He nodded his head at Emily, and she set her breakfast bowl down. Matilda was already bolting up the ladder, and Emily quickly followed. As she broke into the open air, another wave of bright morning light blinded her, and she had to squint as she climbed the rest of the way out.

  “What is it, Haskell,” Matilda demanded.

  “We’re in sight of the village, ma’am,” he explained, “but things aren’t looking good. There’s smoke, and a lot of it. We thought it might have been nothing, but it’s been growing. We’re still a ways out, though—too far to tell if it’s a battle or just a brush fire. Only thing I know is that we shouldn’t be seeing anything at all.”

  Haskell needlessly pointed toward Juatwa, and Emily turned to get her first glimpse of the land.

  She saw a long and thin line of green, reminding her of the Forest of Angor. The land was indeed too far out to see anything beyond that, but at one point, in the direction they were facing, a trail of dark smoke rose out of the green line and faded into the blue sky.

  Also before her, standing still and calm, was Takeo. His right arm clutched his kimono, keeping it from flapping too much in the breeze, and his other hand rested on the pommel of his katana.

  “Damn wind is still to our starboard side,” Matilda cursed. “Oars in the water! I want to get closer and see what’s happening for myself.”

  Matilda’s command brought a thunderous roar of shouting from the other vikings. As she took the helm, the vikings broke into a coordinated effort to get their oars in the water. Huge logs of wood were hefted and manhandled into place, five on each side, and two vikings grabbed ahold of each handle. One man took up a drum and began to beat a steady rhythm, deep and loud so that it could be heard over the wind and waves.

  Oars bit into water, vikings grunted and yelled, muscles bulged, and the ship propelled forward at a speed only direct wind could match. Emily stumbled with the first stroke and placed one foot back to steady herself. She walked up to stand beside Takeo.

  “Are you worried?” she asked.

  “A little,” he answered.

  Emily had only met a few samurai in her life, most for a very brief time, but it didn’t take long for her to realize they hid their feelings. Fear and passion, hate and love, pain and happiness—all were buried behind a sturdy wall of stoic control. Emily didn’t fully understand why they did this, whether it was cultural or part of their training, but Takeo was no different. His smile was never a wide grin, and the only place his emotions truly showed was his eyes, and Emily had learned to watch those closely.

  In them now, she saw anxiety. It was a look close to pain. Emily wondered how long it had been since Takeo had last cried.

  “Are you ready to leave?” he asked.

  “My things are packed,” she answered, tapping her pesh-kabz and bow.

  The two carried few other belongings, having lost nearly everything in Savara, minus the shoddy weapons they carried. Emily still carried two other letters on her: one from a knight in Lucifan and another from a werewolf in Angor, both letters meant for the other sender. Thankfully, both were enclosed in water resistant pouches Emily had received from pirates. Beyond that, though, Matilda could spare them nothing, not even food. Juatwa was more than a little out of her way, and that put a pressure on her food stores she wasn’t comfortable with. The most they could grant was ten arrows for Emily, and neither Emily nor Takeo had pushed the matter.

  As the ship surged forward, the thin green line that was Juatwa began to take on a new form, growing into a lowly marsh of short yet thick trees that sported an overabundance of tiny leaves. The black smoke also began to thicken, becoming more distinct against the green and blue background. Scattered near the shore, a few scant shacks were collapsed or smoldering, leaving wisps of black and grey to be whipped up into the wind. Behind them, the trees obscured other buildings, but more trails of smoke lifted up above the green.

  In the shallow water of the sandy shore, the single body of an old man was lying face down as the waves washed over him. His blood mixed into the salty water, turning the white foam red. The sand, however, was hardly tainted.

  Just shy of the shore, Matilda called for a halt. Oars dipped and pushed in reverse, making the whole ship shudder, and Emily stumbled again. The drumming stopped, and the ship listed. A moment later, Matilda and Haskell appeared beside Takeo and Emily.

  “I hear nothing,” Matilda said.

  “Fight’s already over,” Haskell mused.

  “Might be,” she replied, “or might not. Takeo, Emily, want me to take you two up north or south a ways?”

  Emily scanned the shoreline but couldn’t see anything of note. The wind continued to blow while the waves crashed, and the heavy trees hid anything beyond the single body and the demolished shacks on the shore. She looked to Takeo, and he to her.

  “No,” he said finally, “I need to see if anyone’s still alive.”

  “Might be the ones who raided this place are still here,” Matilda warned.

  “We’ll take the chance.”

  His eyes were still on Emily when he said that, and she gave him a nod.

  “Alright, well swim to shore, then,” Matilda said. “I ain’t landing here.”

  “What?” Emily balked. “Why not?”

  “I don’t want to get stuck here,” Matilda explained. “Viking ships have a shallow bottom, so we can push up on shore, but it’ll take a good number of my men on the ground to push us back out. I don’t want to get stuck defending my ship from raiders. There is smoke, and that means fire, and my ship doesn’t mix well with fire. You want off this ship, you two are going to have to swim.”

  A white-knuckled fear clutched Emily’s heart, and her breath froze in her lungs.

  “You have to take us to shore!” she pled. “I can’t swim!”

  “Well, that’s a real shame, Emily,” Matilda said with a shrug, “but I’m not landing here. I’m not ready for a fight, not when I have a long trip back home and a ship loaded with goods. Can you swim, Takeo?”

  “I can.” He nodded.

  “Then take her, and get off. The sight of this place is unnerving me. Haskell will fetch you a rope to climb down.”

  Matilda walked back towards the helm without another word, and Emily stuttered on her own, looking from one party to the next until she grabbed ahold of Takeo’s kimono.

  “Takeo,” she shouted. “Didn’t you hear me? I can’t swim!”

  “I heard you,” he replied, placing a hand on hers, “and you don’t have to worry. You don’t have to swim. All you have to do is float. I’ll swim for us. I’ll even hold your arrows.”

  Emily let go of Takeo’s clothes but didn’t take her eyes from him. Her breathing was still a little quick, and she flicked a glance at the wide berth of water between her and solid ground.

  “I . . . I don’t think I can float either,” she said.

  “You can,” Takeo said flatly. “Think of this as your first lesson in remaining calm. If you pass this test, you’ll be a far better warrior than you were before. Trust me.”

  Emily swallowed and stared out at the water. The small ocean waves rolled on towards the shore, creating shallow white foam at the edges where they reached the sand. The beach wasn’t too far away, only a short jog if she could run, but seemed like an insurmountable moat from where she stood.

  “Just stay calm,” Takeo repeated.

  She heard and tried to obey. She took deep breaths, holding the air trapped before letting it out. Her heart rejected this and continued to race, but she did not give in. When H
askell returned with a rope, her breath quickened again, but another deep breath steadied it.

  “Stop it,” she whispered to herself. “You’ve fought a vampire.”

  Haskell secured the rope to the mast and tossed the end over the side. It thumped against the side of the ship and slapped into the ocean, a clearer sound than any she’d heard before. Takeo walked over to the rope and motioned for Emily to follow. He looked to Haskell, and the viking thrust forward a rough hand.

  “It’s been a pleasure, Little Dragon,” he said.

  “Likewise.” Takeo nodded and shook Haskell’s hand.

  Emily walked over and grabbed the rope. Takeo took her arrows and secured them in his sash. Emily was breathing completely through her mouth now.

  “Good luck!” Matilda shouted from the helm.

  Emily glanced up to give Matilda a smile but could manage no words. The other vikings gave her smiles and farewells, which she returned until Takeo tapped her shoulder.

  “I’ll go first,” he explained. “Follow after me and hang tight to the rope.”

  With that, he climbed over the railing and began to rappel down. Emily shook her head.

  “Okay,” she consoled herself, “here goes.”

  She climbed over the railing and clutched the rope tight. The ship’s rocking became discernable as she swayed in the breeze, brushing against the ship, feeling it move along with the waves. She looked down and saw Takeo had already reached the water. His arms swished back and forth in the water as he bobbed comfortably, head always visible.

  “Keep going!” he called up to her.

  She exhaled another long breath of air and climbed down one hand at a time. She never dared stop for fear that, if she did, she wouldn’t be able to start again. Even when her toes touched the water and a cold ocean wave rose up to soak her feet, she did not stop. Into the water she went, white hands gripping the rope.

  “There, see,” Takeo said. “Not so bad, huh?”

  Emily’s breathing was ragged, like she had just run for a whole day. Her mouth was wide open, and she forced herself to take in deep breaths. Below her, the endless water seemed like a dark abyss, waiting to suck her down into nothing.

  “What now?” she managed to stutter.

  “You float,” he said. “Listen carefully. It’s not hard, and I’ll be here the whole time. All you have to do is keep calm. Even if you swallow water, or a wave crashes over your head, or even if a kraken breaches under us, just stay calm.”

  Emily gave a weak laugh.

  “Here’s what you’re going to do,” he said. “So long as you’re breathing, you’ll float. Lie on your back, put your arms and legs out, and breathe deep. Your ears and eyes are going to go in the water. Just close your eyes and breathe. I’m going to put my arm around your chest and swim to shore. See, here, like this.”

  Takeo floated onto his back, dipping his head back until the waterline was just below his lips and nose. He took a few deep breaths, then popped back up. Emily stared back at him, blinking and clutching the rope.

  “Try it with one hand on the rope,” he suggested.

  “I can do that.” She nodded.

  She brought the rope close to her and prepared to lean back.

  “Just remember to breathe,” Takeo reminded her. “Arms and legs back, chest up, and breathe.”

  Emily lay back, taking deep, slow breaths. Her hair went into the water, then her ears, and still she clutched the rope. She lay back more, letting her legs flow out. The water rose up and over her eyes, and she closed them. All sound became blocked by the water, and she could see nothing but the bright sun trying to penetrate her eyelids.

  And she kept breathing, both hands gripping the rope.

  She felt Takeo touch one of her hands and then lift it free from the rope. A flash of panic ripped through her. With a deep breath, she swallowed it and let the calmness return.

  Breathe, she thought. Breathe.

  Takeo touched her other hand, the only one on the rope now. She felt his other arm slide over her shoulders and across her chest. From beneath her, his warm body pressed up against her, buoying her up. The water around her lips receded a little, and she exhaled in relief.

  Then Takeo took her hand off the rope, and she inhaled again.

  Beneath her, she felt the water swish and Takeo’s leg brush hers as he kicked. The water around her began to slide, and she kept her eyes shut as she breathed. Waves of water pushed over her, splashing on her face and touching her nose, but she dared not do anything but breathe. In and out, in and out, all the while her back touched Takeo’s hard chest.

  It seemed like ages passed. She breathed and breathed, and nothing seemed to move. In the beginning of the journey, she thought she heard faint yelling, but did not try to look. Floating was not so difficult, she realized, but she dared not do anything else for fear she would ruin what she’d accomplished.

  Stay calm and breathe, she thought. Breathe and stay calm.

  And there she stayed until Takeo’s body came to a sudden stop and she bounced against him. Her drifting hands swept down until they touched sand, and she bolted upright, gasping for air as if she’d been drowning. Before her, the viking ship was fading into the distance.

  She was on the shore. She was on the shore!

  “Yes!”

  Emily turned to cheer at Takeo, but he had already moved up onto the beach and was kneeling over the dead man, turning the head so the face could be seen. Blood soaked his hands. She decided not to cheer again, and instead glanced down, embarrassed. The water around her shins was a shade of deep red, her nostrils filled with the stench of charred wood, and her ears picked up on the deadened silence surrounding them.

  She’d been so excited she’d almost forgotten about the war.

  Chapter 4

  “I knew this man,” Takeo said. “His name was Gorji.”

  Emily approached Takeo and knelt on the other side of Gorji’s body. The waves and foam rose up to touch her legs, but never high enough to cover them.

  “He and his wife,” Takeo went on, voice just above a whisper, “they would sell the fresh fish he caught every day. He was never very kind to me as a kid, I think because he didn’t have any of his own, but he was never unfair. He treated Okamoto with the utmost respect. I liked him.”

  Emily, though making an effort to be quiet and solemn, found it difficult to mourn for an old man she did not know, but that was no excuse to interrupt Takeo. After a moment, the samurai put a careful hand on Gorji’s side to flip the body over. Emily went to help. Gorji’s body was cold and spongy, and Emily barely stopped from gagging when they rolled him over and a rank smell wafted up at them.

  There was a huge gash running from Gorji’s left shoulder to his right hip. The skin appeared ripped rather than cut, and his broken ribs stuck out where the ocean water had washed away the blood. Emily’s throat welled up.

  “It doesn’t look like a katana did this,” she said.

  Takeo gave a defeated sigh and pursed his lips.

  “A kanabo did this,” he said sadly.

  “What’s a kanabo?”

  “It’s a big club covered in spikes,” Takeo explained.

  “A club?” Emily asked, a bit in disbelief. “Samurai use clubs?”

  “No, they don’t. Samurai didn’t do this. This is the work of oni. Now, come on. Follow me. I don’t think there’s any need to disguise myself.”

  Takeo used his fingers to close Gorji’s eyes and then eased the old man’s head back down into the water. Takeo said Gorji’s name out loud one more time and then stood up. Emily did so, too, and together they walked into the tree line. As they neared the village, the smell of charred wood grew stronger.

  “Oni?” Emily whispered. “What’s an oni?”

  The trees on Juatwa grew heavy vines that hung all the way down to the ground, reminding Emily a bit of the jungles of Themiscyra, only the ground wasn’t covered in bushes and shrubs. Takeo led the way as he pushed the vines aside,
turning his head so he could whisper back to Emily.

  “Oni look like the ogres of Lucifan,” he said. “They are big, strong, and violent in nature—nearly the brutes that ogres are, just slightly more controlled. Oni are also a tad cleverer than ogres, have red skin, and are immortal.”

  “Immortal?” Emily balked and froze.

  Takeo stopped, too, and looked back at her. He nodded gravely and then put a finger to his lips. He drew his katana and pointed through the wall of cascading vines. Beyond it, Emily could see the faint traces of brown wood through the slim openings. She drew her bow, notched the string, and took her arrows back from Takeo. After nocking two, she gave Takeo a nod.

  He used his sword to pull the vines back, and together, the two glimpsed the rest of the village.

  The first thing they saw was a small building, no bigger than Emily’s first home, just five paces off to their left. It was made of thin boards of wood, and the roof was a combination of reeds and large leaves. The home’s entire front end had collapsed and folded over, bringing the roof with it, yet it had somehow been spared the flames. Beneath the collapsed section, nobody was visible, but a thick trail of blood washed out into the soil.

  Facing that building, to Emily’s right, was another smaller one, this one burned to a blackened crisp of charred remains. The fire had burned itself out by now, but black smoke continued to rise out of the ruins to dissipate into the air. The ground around the building was black and desolate. Inside, the shadowy forms of three human corpses lay still with their open jaws locked eternally in silent screams.

  Beyond those two buildings, a single pathway led onwards, deeper into the village with either side lined by varying degrees of destruction. Outside a small shack, a man lay on his stomach with a massive gouge in his back. Another stood upright against a tree, held in place by small spears that punctured his legs and chest. Beyond that, Emily saw women and even children lying face down in the dirt, and the strength in her heart faltered, a gasp broke her silence, and her chest tightened.