by Travis Bughi
“It’s one of my greatest weapons,” Emily said and shrugged.
“Did Katsu also underestimate you?”
“No, he overestimated himself.”
The ninja laughed and said, “Now that I find difficult to believe. Lord Katsu dominates half of Juatwa and then overestimates himself when he captures you?”
“Actually, I was referring to Lady Xuan. Katsu thought his fortress more powerful than her army. He was wrong, and it cost him everything. He thought himself too powerful to be attacked, too distant to be struck.”
“Now, that one I did know,” the ninja said. “Tell me, do you know where Katsu is?”
“No,” Emily answered truthfully.
But I know where he’s headed, she left unsaid.
“I trust that your presence here makes that true enough. I think that will do for now. Tell me what else you came here for. As relaxed as I appear to be, I assure you that I am rather busy. Lady Xuan is soon to be Juatwa’s first ruler, and nothing is more prosperous for assassins than peace.”
For a moment, Emily thought he was being sarcastic, but then she realized he was serious. That struck her curiosity, but then she thought better and stored that part of her away. She had other, more pressing, concerns.
“When Katsu escaped, he took Takeo with him,” Emily explained. “He gave me his word that he would sell Takeo into slavery to the orcs in Khaz Mal. That was about as specific as our negotiations went.”
“And you believe him?”
“I do,” Emily said with a nod. “Like I said, Katsu does not underestimate me. He will sell Takeo into slavery because he knows I’ll go to Takeo—and leave him alone while I do it.”
“I see,” the ninja said. “Your confidence is infectious, and now I know why you’re here. The Khaz Mal Mountains are as large as Savara. You’d never find him without help. Quite clever, that Katsu. You’d probably die trying to find Takeo on your own, one slave tucked away in the vastness of the mountains. His fear of you speaks volumes; hence you are here. You think I know where your lover will be sold. You think to trade information for information and follow Takeo’s trail. That would be a fair trade, but unfortunately, you’ve already traded what I wanted to know for amnesty. What do you have left to bargain with?”
“First, tell me if you can help me at all. I want to know what I’m buying before I flash my gold.”
The ninja eyed her once more, and this time she felt no sting under that gaze. She met the stare with the defiance that ran in her blood and the will that had empowered her to travel the world.
“Katsu will have to leave Juatwa by ship,” the ninja explained. “It is the safest and fastest way to escape the massive bounty Lady Xuan has put on his head. That means he’ll have to sell Takeo into slavery at a port. Orcs and goblins, as barbaric as they are, are not so untamed that they can’t buy and trade. However, they must do so at one of the few ports that will allow them entrance—ports composed of an unsavory ilk. I would have contacts at these ports, and the buying and selling of a samurai, especially someone as infamous as the last Karaoshi, would be memorable enough that you would find them useful, I’d imagine.”
“So, if I were to visit these ports and talk to these contacts,” she concluded, “I would be collecting on what I’m about to pay for.”
The ninja laughed again and then sipped his tea.
“You expect me to give you names?” he chuckled again. “I was only going to give you ports. I see no gold on you, little girl. How could you possibly expect to pay for names?”
And there it was. Emily had known this moment was coming but had never fully shaken the hope that it wouldn’t. She hoped the breadth of the world would keep her betrayal hidden.
The things I’ll do for love, she thought. I’m sorry, Dirthzea and Nathok.
“One week of training to your finest archer,” she heard herself say. “I’ll teach them a trick I learned from the elves of Angor: to shoot two arrows at once.”
The ninja, so often motionless that Emily was convinced he practiced, froze completely stiff for a moment when she made that offer. When the tiny, nearly unnoticeable movements returned, she knew she had him, and that thought crushed her just as much as it thrilled her. I will save Takeo at the cost of my honor, she smirked. Funny. He did the same for me.
“Let’s say I take this offer,” he said. “Is one week truly enough?”
“It’s all I needed,” Emily replied. “Send me your best archer, and I’ll teach them the basics from dawn ‘til dusk, and from there it will only take practice to master it as I have. At that point, they can teach others, and you’ll be in debt to me tenfold.”
“Hm, no I won’t.” The ninja shook a finger. “This is your offer, not mine. I’ll take it, but make no mistake. I will owe you nothing when we part.”
Emily sighed and nodded. The deal was done. Now she could add the elves to the list of those who would be ashamed of her if they were to see her now. The angels were already on that list.
“One last thing,” the ninja said, “I hear that Katsu’s wife was found dead, her throat cut clean.”
Emily blinked and took a sip of her tea. The ninja watched her and waited for a response as she poured herself another cup.
“What of it?” she finally said.
“Congratulations.”
Epilogue
Katsu’s fingers dug into his own skull so hard that it hurt, yet still the other pain would not fade. It was sharp, lashing at his mind like a blade, thrusting over and over so that he could not think. He hardly felt the swaying of the ship or heard the thunder of the storm. In a fit of desperation, he pressed his nails into his skin, pointing them like a blade. Their stabbing pressure burned intensely, yet the torment would not release his mind.
He no longer sought relief. He was long past that. His only wish now was to find a new pain, one great enough to distract him. The search had been fruitless, but he feared that if this pain continued, he might have to resort to more drastic measures. Unfortunately, Katsu didn’t know if he had the courage to cut open his own skin.
Logic told him his search for a new pain was pointless. Even if he did find the courage to injure himself thusly, the pain in his mind would still be there, a symptom that could not be dismissed. His defeat was real.
You had it all, he cursed. You fool! You had it all!
He yelled and overturned the table before him, spilling maps and ink and quills onto the floor, scattering and ruining them all at the same time. The inkpot shattered, splattering black on the wooden deck, like his wife’s blood had splattered in his observatory.
Like his own blood had nearly been splattered.
“I should have killed her.” He wept in his regret. “Why didn’t I kill her?”
The sennin never moved. It sat comfortably in the corner of his cabin, tilting as the ship swayed. Its lack of concern for Katsu’s rage seemed to taunt the former shogun’s newfound ineptitude. There was a time when his wrath could shake worlds, when daimyo shuddered under his gaze, and thousands upon thousands of samurai knelt and obeyed his every command.
Yet now he could only muster enough strength to upend a table. No one entered the room when he cried out. They stayed outside, knowing better than that. Katsu spoke only to himself. He and the sennin were the room’s only occupants.
There was a time when he would always keep company. After Takeo’s father had tried to kill him, Katsu had kept guards on hand. After he had met Heliena, she became his new guard. She was deadly and ruthless, not to mention beautiful and a pleasure to have alone. With her bow at her side, he felt comfortable knowing she would protect him. Everything she wanted—power, control, wealth—rested in him, and he always trusted people who desired wealth and power over honor and freedom. He had never tired of the perks associated with keeping Heliena by his side.
And then Emily had killed her.
What terrified him was how easily she’d done it. Heliena had been gasping for air while Emily had hard
ly broken a sweat. Katsu’s beautiful, deadly wife had landed no more than a single strike, and her bow had mattered for naught. The fight had been so short, so unbelievably short, that no matter how often Katsu saw it in his mind, he still could not trust the memory. That woman in the tower, that farmer, was something different than the woman he’d seen back in Lucifan. She was like Takeo with a knife, and he could only hope she was dead.
She wasn’t, though. He knew it. The certainty he felt came not from evidence, but from understanding. He would not underestimate her again.
“That girl,” he said into his muffled hands, “the angel chose her for a reason. Why couldn’t I see that?”
One would think his thoughts and wonderment should be directed at Lady Xuan. That would be the logical thing to do. It was the Old Woman of the Mountain who’d baited him into slaughtering Lord Jiro, only to weaken himself in the process. And then he’d foolishly marched the long trek back home, exhausting his forces to the point that they could barely put up a fight against Lady Xuan’s armies. He had thought she’d stay up north, that she wouldn’t travel south to face him so soon, and it had cost him everything.
He’d put his faith in his walls, never thinking she could possibly erect catapults without his knowledge; and even if she did, siege works moved slowly, and he had never thought she would be so bold as to build them upon ships. He had never conceived such an idea was even possible.
“And where did those ships come from?” Katsu yelled. “How could I not have known about such a fleet? Was I truly so blind?”
That Old Woman, she’d beaten him, and it was all because he had assumed himself too superior and terrifying to assault.
I let my guard down. He shook his head. And she was waiting for it.
Still, though, not all would be lost if not for Emily Stout. He might still have reigned victorious in the end if not for Emily. Lady Xuan, as clever as she was, had not defeated him entirely. It was Emily Stout who stood in his way now. It was her who haunted his mind and caused the pain that would not subside.
Ichiro Katsu had been prepared for defeat in Juatwa. Despite the words he spoke to his underlings, the shogun was never so foolish as to ignore that possibility. Retreat was an option that could lead to opportunity, and he prided himself on considering every option. He’d prepared for this, his defeat at either Lady Xuan’s or Lord Jiro’s hands, long in advance; hence he was retreating right now on the open sea with a ship full of forty samurai.
“Forty,” he said the words out loud. “I had a thousand times that many, and now I only have forty. Still, I could go to Savara with forty. I could rebuild with forty. Were it not for Emily, I could still reign triumphant in the end.”
That had been his plan, the last resort. With forty disciplined and loyal samurai, he could land in Savara and start fresh. Savara was home to countless warlords and mercenaries whom he could either dominate or recruit to his cause. It was something he’d done before with the daimyo of Juatwa, and he was confident he could do it again. He had also been confident, once, that with as few as a thousand well-trained soldiers and the element of surprise, he could take Lucifan, and more than a thousand mercenaries could easily be found in Savara. In the case of last resort, he would not burn the city to the ground, but instead seize it as his new home. Lucifan would become his seat, and with the wealth of the angels’ city at his fingertips, he would recruit more warriors to his side. He would hire gunslingers, breed ogres, and create a new army that would conquer the world. Some might call him ambitious, but he would not give up so easily. Lady Xuan need have been nothing but a setback. It was possible—or at least, it had been possible. It was nothing but smoke now.
“If not for Emily,” he whispered, “I could still have it all.”
Katsu looked around him at the empty room—empty save for the sennin. He knew exactly where to look for the creature because it did not move. It never ate, or slept, or drank. Truth be told, Katsu wondered if it needed to breathe.
The sennin appeared to be asleep with its eyes closed, but it always looked that way, and Katsu knew better. The thing’s mangled cane was clutched loosely in its fingers. It did not tap the cane, and Katsu hated it for that.
“And you stay silent, hm?” Katsu yelled at it. “It’s because it’s true, isn’t it? You don’t think I know that? Fine! I’ll say it again, louder, so I can be sure you heard me. Without Emily, I could have Lucifan and then the world! Without her power over a colossus, I could have it all. Lady Xuan would only be a nuisance, a large one sure, but only a setback. Now though? Sure, I might capture Lucifan before Emily finds Takeo, but what then? She’ll come eventually. She’ll seek me out, just like she promised. Yes, I know the truth. I’ll say the words: I am defeated.”
The sennin tapped its cane on the floor, wood striking wood, a subtle thud that sounded faintly over the crash of waves against the side of the ship. To Katsu, though, it had been the sound of a cannon firing.
“What?” Katsu’s mouth hinged open. “That was a lie?”
The sennin did not move. Katsu rose.
“I heard you,” he said, walking towards it. “You’re telling me I’m not defeated? How is that possible?”
It did not answer. It rarely did. Katsu had always hated that, but he hated it most of all at this moment. He stepped toward the thing and begged at it with his hands clasped together.
“What can I do? You know the answer! Tell me, damn you! Your survival depends on me. I’ll kill you when I lose everything. You say I’m not defeated; then tell me how. You want to live, you old thing? I know you do. Use that wisdom for something more than tapping your cane. Answer me!”
The sennin remained still, and Katsu got down on his knees to grab the fragile thing with both hands. He gripped its throat and squeezed, all his anger flooding into his hands.
“Answer me, you damned old—”
Katsu’s words were cut off as something strong grabbed his throat. It took him a moment to realize they were fingers, and it took a moment more to realize they were the sennin’s fingers. Katsu tried to cough, but couldn’t. The grip was too tight. He couldn’t breathe. He grabbed the sennin’s arm and tried to wrench it loose.
The arm felt like solid metal, and the sennin’s eyes opened to stare into Katsu’s.
“Finally,” it whispered in a voice so deep that it made Katsu’s heart tremble, “you’re truly alone.”
The sennin rose, taking the former shogun with it. Katsu’s feet left the ground and dangled in the air, his body held aloft by the fingers that gripped his throat. He tried to gasp for air. He slammed the sennin’s arm with his elbow and kicked the thing with his dangling feet. Each strike felt like he was hitting stone.
This can’t be happening, he tried to choke out. What are you?
The sennin must have heard him, for it began to change. The thing grew, adding so much height that it nearly reached the ceiling. Its wrinkled skin faded, and orange fur with black stripes sprouted all over its body. Its arms and legs, once so frail and bony, filled in with a muscular frame that would shame a viking. Its eyes went yellow, its teeth grew out to ferocious lengths, and triangle shaped ears popped out from its head. A long, thin tail, striped black and orange, appeared behind it, and Katsu began to desperately mouth his disbelief.
“Yes,” the rakshasa said, “you recognize my kind.”
No. Katsu’s eyes flooded with tears of both physical and mental pain. What did I do to deserve this? How is this possible?
“I wanted to thank you for selling that samurai to me,” it said. “I never would have had the ambition or the idea to impersonate you if it weren’t for him. Don’t worry, though, I’ve seen enough not to make your mistakes. I will not underestimate the amazon. I’ve fought her, too, you see. Takeo will be sold, just as you promised.”
Katsu’s world was starting to go dark. The grip on his throat was tightening, and the pain in his mind was now nothing but a prickle in comparison to the rakshasa’s clawed hands.
I sought this, he remembered. I sought this pain.
“Before I consume you,” it said, “I want you to know something: your plan will be carried out. I will take your samurai and land in Savara. I will recruit warriors to my cause. I will amass an army that I will use to defeat Emily, even with her colossus, and I will rule the world as you once desired. You mortal men may fear this amazon, but I have tasted her blood. She will die by my hand, and I will bend the world to my name. It will be your name they shout at first, but one day they will know their true conqueror. One day, all will bow to the name of Jabbar.”
Katsu felt his neck snap, and the last word he heard faded with his soul.
World of Myth VI
A Legend Ascends
Prologue
Jabbar would never get used to the feeling of a hairless body.
The touch of skin on skin, especially sweaty skin, felt rough, vulnerable, and weak. It was, in his mind, a symbol of the pathetic human race and their inability to do anything other than breed. Humans had no claws, sharp teeth, heightened senses, nor even enough body hair to withstand Savara’s harsh sun. How they didn’t just lie down and die out was beyond him, and he hated disguising himself as one. For the past several months, he’d been forced to walk as a human, speak as a frail, aged man, and act as if he could not savagely rip out the throats of every person who bowed before him.
It made him hungry.
To add to his hatred of human skin, Savara’s relentless sun cooked those parts of him not shielded by the old shogun’s kimono, which was a problem he would not have had to face if covered by his orange- and black-striped fur. On top of this, the windblown sand rubbed itself into every crevice of his new form, causing perverse rashes that made everything from walking to sitting an annoyance. Hot, uncomfortable, and disguised as a pathetic human who’d had a weak bladder when he’d died, Jabbar would have been in a ferocious mood had he not survived being buried alive at one point in his life. Thanks to that event, the rakshasa held an ounce of patience above most of the members of his race. Still, he was agitated, to say the least, and this did not work in the warlord’s favor.
