by Damon Glatz
Red changed from his usual red attire into a similar outfit of grey and black. He also used a new sheath for his katana, a duller looking one than his familiar sheath. He was clearly trying to disguise his sword as well. He then tied his hair back into a tight bun and showed Ohitekah how to do the same. They looked just like the northerners they met before in Ashland. Red showed him how to keep his katana properly at his side so he did not have to carry it.
Red studied Ohitekah’s new disguise. “Well… That may be convincing enough from a distance, but just try to keep your head down and mind to yourself.”
Ohitekah nodded, the thought of being a samurai excited him, but he supposed he could never truly fit in. He walked back to the camp to wake up Nicholas. His friend rubbed his eyes and squinted at him, confused for a second.
“Aye lad, you’ll fit right in! I didn’t even recognize you at first.” Nicholas laughed and stood up. “Where’d you get that getup?” Nicholas paused. “Oh, that’s a very nice sword too. Impressive.”
“Thank you. Red got it for me with his magical horse.” Ohitekah smiled.
Nicholas furrowed his brow and frowned. “Magical horse?” He chuckled and patted Ohitekah on the head. “If you say so, lad.” Nicholas stood up, walked over to his horse and began to get ready.
Lance had silently awoken and was already in his armor, riding his horse. The horse was just as armored as he was, royally donned in the finest steel and silver. The two of them looked out of place, like they were going to a parade just after a victorious battle.
“You will not be needing any of that,” Red began. “Both of you come here, I have your disguises.” He tossed a pile of brown rags before them.
“You couldn’t find any better merchant clothes?” Lance asked after reviewing his new wardrobe.
“Unless you want to parade around like a king, this is the best you have. That, or just ride around by yourself and wait at the other end of the wall.”
Lance glared at Red and took the clothes. After removing the armor from both himself and his horse, he put on his new clothes. Lance looked very different, not nearly as formidable or clean. He wore a black hooded cloak and dirty pants. He wrapped his sword in cloth and buried his armor into large bags on the side of his white horse, who looked more like a traveling salesman’s horse now. Lance fit the role and now looked like an ordinary Ashland merchant.
“This is ridiculous,” he cursed to himself, loud enough for Red to hear.
Nicholas was the hardest to disguise. It was obvious he was from the Vatnic Isles, but nothing could hide that. His long hair and beard were a dead giveaway, let alone his enormous body size.
After a few attempts with robes and cloaks from the north that Red had prepared, it was agreed that he should just wear his own clothes but without the plated armor. They gave up on trying to hide the great-sword too and decided to offer it as an item for sale if asked. A bag of collected furs was prepared to make the appearance that they were for sale as well. The preparations were soon complete and the camp was deconstructed.
“Ohitekah and I will go first. Wait until we are hard to see on the horizon and then follow us northwest. Once The Wall is in sight, head to the gate. It should be easy to see. There will be men stationed outside, convince them that you are there to sell your goods and they will let you in. There is no reason you should not get through as simple merchants. Once inside we will make our way west until we reach the Western Gate. Getting out is easier than getting in. And feel free to make sales and trades with what we have if you need to.”
“Should we meet any resistance on the inside?” Lance asked.
“No, the samurai should have no reason to challenge peaceful merchants. When you see samurai or anyone that looks important, just bow and show respect.” Red demonstrated a low bow. “We should remain distant at all times. Samurai aren’t known to travel with low class merchants. If it is necessary that we meet, make it at nighttime and in secret.”
The sun was growing higher in the sky.
“All right,” Red said. “Let’s get started.”
Chapter Nineteen:
The Wall
Red and Ohitekah rode in silence for a long while. Soon the tree and their companions were far behind them. Lance and Nicholas would be beginning to follow them any time now. Ohitekah was fixated on Red’s horse after their conversation earlier. He studied it. He had always thought a red horse was odd, its scarlet mane blowing in the breeze. It was the horse of a god. Fast enough to ride across the plains in an instant. This got him thinking.
“If your horse is so fast, why can’t you just ride us all individually around The Wall? Wouldn’t that be so much easier?” Ohitekah asked.
“Blaze is an immortal horse of divine birth, created by an ancient elemental god for his personal use. No, only I can ride Blaze. The speeds would destroy any of you if you attempted to ride him. Plus, I’m not sure if he would let you ride him. He is a proud horse.”
Red smiled and looked at Blaze. “Maybe if you beat the Thunder Mythic, Blaze will take you for a ride.” The horse snorted and stomped his hoof. “Or maybe not,” Red said shrugging.
“Well, it looks like they’re out of sight,” Nicholas began. “We should get moving.”
“I suppose that was the plan,” Lance said quietly on his horse. They started riding forward, following the trail of Red and Ohitekah. Lance stayed silent while Nicholas looked for ways to break the tension.
He attempted to spark conversation. “How is your... home life goin’?”
“Excuse me?”
“Ya know... life at the castle and all that.”
Lance paused. “All right? I suppose?”
There was another lull in the conversation. There was nothing but wind to disturb the silence.
Damn grass as far as the eye could see, how do people manage to live here? Nicholas thought.
“So, you’re the prince! Ya know, I was sort of a prince myself in the Vatnic Isles.”
“I am aware,” Lance responded. His expression remained bored, though his eyes were focused on the shadowy image of Daisuke in the distance. Never taking his eyes off of him, his target, the man who destroyed his kingdom, his home.
“Oh, so you’ve heard about me?” Nicholas smiled.
“Nicholas the Brute, son of Bjorn the Iron, who was usurped from power by legal ceremonial challenge in 190 of the Third Age by Ivan the Bone-Breaker. Family used as tribute for the Water Mythic. Nicholas fled his country to begin a life of drinking and problem causing in my country. Yes, I know you. As prince I was well learned in worldly political affairs.”
Nicholas paused. “Well, when you put it that way...” Lance was cold, uncaring of Nicholas’ past. It was just something he memorized out of a history book. His family were not tributes, they were murdered. Nicholas’ father should not have been the one to fight Ivan, Nicholas was.
Lance glanced at Nicholas. “If it makes you feel better, my kingdom greatly preferred your father as ruler. He was good, kept his distance. Ivan has been attacking merchant ships for a while and Ashland would like to see him removed from power.”
“Ashland?” Nicholas began to smile. “You mean you would like to see me return to my rightful place on the throne!”
“I never said that. If Ivan isn’t careful, the Vatnic Isles will be next on my ‘nations to conquer’ list. He is fortunate the plains separate us so vastly. I would prefer someone in charge who isn’t as foolish or as tempting to siege.”
“Ahh you don’t need to beat around the bush, lad!” Nicholas punched Lance playfully in the shoulder. Lance gave him a sharp hateful glance, offended by the gesture.
It began as a line on the horizon. After a while, it started to grow larger and longer.
“Welcome to the Feng Dynasty. Welcome to my home,” Red said.
The Wall was magnificent, dividing the sky from the earth. It was the largest structure Ohitekah had ever seen. It must have taken a hundred years to build.
&n
bsp; As they walked closer, he could see there were things in the grass: arrow tips, pieces of armor, large wooden wheels. Ohitekah slowed down to admire them. They were decrepit, worn, and ancient, he imagined they would crumble if he tried to picked any of them up.
“Battles have been fought here for thousands of years. The last one took place two hundred years ago,” Red said quietly. As he looked at the rusted arrows in the dirt, he wondered which ones were his.
He remembered that day, the last day of his life, with the whole of the Ashland army, the might of an entire kingdom, marching to his front door.
And Brann Mytiske, the Dragon of the East.
“You fought here, didn’t you?” Ohitekah asked. “This is where you killed the Mythic.”
Red nodded slowly. “Yes. It was here.”
There were craters in the ground, now growing with grass. Ohitekah looked at Red. He remained expressionless. He knew Red was uncomfortable being here in this battlefield, even if he wasn’t showing it.
The wall towered into the sky, each step making it higher and higher above them. When the Eastern Gate came into view, they adjusted course. Soon they reached the great doors themselves, a castle-like structure towering above the closed gates. Surely this is where the samurai were garrisoned in case of a battle.
There were two guards standing outside. Both were armored samurai, not dressed in robes like Red usually was, but in samurai battle armor. They stood at attention side by side in front of the large wooden gate.
Red approached them confidently. “I am Li from the Tonkeowa family. I am escorting Oda, my nephew.” Red sounded very official and deliberate when he spoke. His accent was also different. Ohitekah was glad Red mentioned his fake name again, because he had forgotten it.
The guards said nothing, gave a bow, and moved aside. Ohitekah guessed that the excuse worked well. The great wooden doors opened outward, accepting them beyond The Wall.
“Well, there’s The Wall!” Nicholas exclaimed as they rode closer.
“I can see that, thank you.” Lance paused. “Remember, we’re just merchants trying to sell furs or something, let me do the talking.”
“Sorry lad, but I think I can handle this.” Nicholas rode forward a few steps.
Lance paused to admire the wall. It was very impressive, maybe even formidable. He assessed the battleground they were approaching. There were remains of trebuchets and fragments of armor. He had studied this battle in his schoolings. This was where the united armies of Ashland stood together for the first time.
Before the Great War, Ashland was separated into smaller states. King Crawford II, Lance’s ancestor, united the districts under one banner. They massed into the largest invasion force the world has ever seen and began to advance on the Feng Dynasty. The king had even somehow convinced the dragon to fight along with him.
Ever since the defeat, the nation has been slowly breaking apart. Lance looked at The Wall with disgust. If he was commanding the armies at the time of that ancient battle, he was sure he could have won. Even now he was studying it for weaknesses.
The gate was wooden. It could be burned. If he could make a treaty with the Republic of Orbis, they could attack them from the south. The defending forces would be divided. He would also never send in the armies while the trebuchets are firing. Instead of advancing once a weakness is exposed, he would turn The Wall to ruble with every shot they had and then sent the ground forces.
At least the past had one thing right. Attacking full force with the divine powers of a Mythic was a brilliant strategic maneuver, a move no enemy could have expected at the time. But what a horrific mistake it turned out to be.
Nicholas approached the guards, and Lance picked up his pace to catch up.
“‘Ello, soldier!” Nicholas boomed. The guard turned his head and placed his hand on his sword.
Lance rode up and stepped off his horse, he bowed to the samurai. “Forgive my companion for he is of simple mind.” As Lance stood up from his bow, Nicholas glared at him. “We are humble merchants seeking to sell our goods to your people.”
The guard relaxed a bit, but he still stared at Nicholas as he got off his horse and bowed as well.
“What are you selling?” the guard asked.
“The finest furs from the forests of Ashland,” Lance said, pulling out a handful of pelts. “Would you like some?”
“They’re on sale!” Nicholas added with a chuckle.
“No,” the guard stated firmly. “You may pass through, and do not forget to bow to a samurai again,” he said sternly to Nicholas.
Lance bowed again, tossed the furs back in their pouch, and climbed back on his horse. Nicholas did the same. The doors opened just wide enough for them to fit through one at a time.
Once the gate closed behind them, they walked down a long tunnel through the thick Wall.
“You need to bow, you idiot! What did your friend tell you?” Lance whispered harshly.
“I’m just tryin’ to have a little fun, lad. We’re fine, relax.”
“This is not fun, we are not fine. We’re on our own, trapped behind enemy lines. You need to take this seriously.” Lance’s anger was permeating from his body.
“No one behind this wall is my enemy, Lance. You’re the one who’s on your own.”
Chapter Twenty:
A Hard Bargain
Red and Ohitekah rode through the busy streets of the large town they had entered. They had just passed the military outposts along the wall. Red explained how the lower classes live furthest from the capitol, along the outskirts of the country. The peasants and merchants make their living nearest the wall. As travelers enter the center of the country they pass the farmland, beautiful, lush hills and valleys growing any number of foods and goods. Then the high-class estates appear, private castles owned by the upper class. This is where noble samurai would live with their daimyo lords.
Then there is the capitol. Red had not planned to go anywhere near there. It was a grand palace that was forbidden to anyone but the highest royalty: the emperor, his personal guards, and the Shogun. Red had been there a number of times. The emperor himself never leaves the capitol.
The furthest northern lands were giant snowy mountains, piercing the clouds of the heavens. Red said the only people who live on the mountains are the monks, a group of people seeking a life of peace and tranquility. The great Northern Dragon lives with them, the Mythic of the Winds. The Northern Dragon looked nothing like the eastern one. The Wind Mythic was almost like a serpent, a long white flowing body that rode the clouds like waves. It had no wings at all, being able to fly on its own like a feather on the breeze. He was a peaceful Mythic, teaching the monks about a life of freedom.
The northern people moved along the crowded road with loads of goods, buying and selling. The crowd moved out of the way for Red and Ohitekah and showed them respect. Ohitekah was not used to this. He felt bad for making them move out of his way.
“They are used to this. Samurai are of a higher class. Just stay in character,” Red reminded him. Ohitekah nodded.
Red looked behind. Lance and Nicholas were trailing through the crowd. They had just gotten through The Wall.
The many scents of the food stands made Ohitekah’s stomach rumble. The carts lined the streets with fish, buffalo, fruits and vegetables. With each merchant trying to beat the next in price or taste, the temptation was too much to bear.
“Can we stop to eat?” Ohitekah asked Red.
“We gave our food to Nicholas to carry, you’ll have to buy some,” Red answered. Red had not thought about this and was not carrying money. He had not experienced hunger for two hundred years and sometimes forgot others did. Ohitekah looked around. There were several of choices of food, but he had no money either.
There were performers doing tricks on the side of the road. He began to listen to the calls of the merchants and performers, advertisements for “the best food in town,” and “jewels from the Shield Mountains!” There were a few
men trying to con people passing by shuffling a rock under three shells and betting on which hid the stone. Red explained that it was a trick and the customer never won.
“That’s a strange bow you have there, young samurai!” someone shouted from the street. A man rushed up to Ohitekah. “Would you like to put it to the test?”
Ohitekah’s bow was indeed strange compared to the samurai bows. Theirs were much longer and thinner. His was made from a tree in the forest and was obviously not professionally built.
Ohitekah raised an eyebrow to Red, who shrugged. Ohitekah dismounted, interested in the test.
“Ah, a challenger!” the man shouted, more to the crowd then Ohitekah. “The rules are simple. I will shoot a target, and you will shoot the same target. Whoever is closer to the center wins!”
“Wins what?”
“Hmm... Interesting question!” He looked to Red. “A smart lad you’re training.” Red nodded. “If you win I will reward you with ten copper pieces! Enough to buy you food for a few days. I can tell you’re a hungry boy after your travels.” Ohitekah’s stomach rumbled. “If I win... Let’s see. I can have your fancy sword.”
Ohitekah placed his hand on his sword. It was new to him but it was still a very special gift. He turned around to talk to Red.
“What should I do?”
“He’s picking on you because you are a young samurai who probably has not trained much with a bow. He can also tell it’s a foreign, low quality bow so he is imagining an easy win. I, however, know you can beat him, so wager whatever you would like.”
Ohitekah smiled and agreed. “Make it twenty silver pieces and I’ll bet my teacher’s katana too.”
Red’s eyes shot open.
The man was just as surprised. “Ah, a raise! I clearly chose a worthy competitor! Twenty silver pieces it is!” They shook hands.
