So I've just had this one sitting around for a little while now and I figured it was high time I spruced it up a bit and published it. It's kind of an obscure historical piece if you're not a history nerd like me, but a lot of passion went into this project so I hope you enjoy. Feedback, as always is welcome.
Egypt, The White Desert 1798
"You know guys, I've been thinking," the searing afternoon heat beat down on a sandy sun bleached path in an obscure Egyptian backwater. The path was barely visible amongst the sand. Only the faint markings of wagon wheels or camel hooves identified areas where the wandering salesmen of the desert, coming from the distant oasis towns had continued their trek up towards the fertile deltas of the Nile.
"For heaven's sake Kiba…" a haggard voice grumbled, adjusting the edge of his broad rimmed straw hat. There were four figures in the party, three men and one dog, all seeming to be far out of their element. The figure with the hat, the shortest member of the band was dressed in white robes, lazily folded over each other. A bland grayish green coat was draped over his shoulder, the circular marking of the Nara clan just visible on the fading fabric. His figure was hunched over, eyes drained of all energy, a small stubble of hair on his chin completing the wandering vagabond look.
"Maybe, just maybe," The first figure replied, not waiting for the first one to finish. Kiba couldn't have looked any more different if he'd tried. In contrast to the billowing robes of his counterpart his outfit seemed to consist of nothing more than a suit of constricting black fabric, only widening around the collar and the arms. His untamed scruffy hair and face markings gave him the look of wildman, or just another traveling vagrant. Kiba's dog, a great big white beast of some obscure oriental breed whined beside him, as tired and as thirsty as any member of the party.
"Just shut up Kiba," the figure named Shikamaru retorted with disgust. Beside him, the final member of the party, Neji Hyuga raised an eyebrow at his comrade's comments. Neji was dressed more like Shikamaru, but his pale eyes and long silky black hair set him apart from his friend's unkempt drowsy look.
Neji was the only one who didn't look like a drifter, he was the tallest of the group, composed and steady in step. Of course, under the sun with no protection he felt as beat down as any of the group.
Neji wiped his brow remembering the day they'd all caught a Dutch vessel from Japan to the mainland. Each of them had decided to leave for one reason or another. Their reasons weren't important he decided. The past was of no significance, all that mattered was journey in front of them.
"Just maybe, I wasn't deluded when I suggested we stick to that Nile road. Maybe you all were the ones who had rice cakes for brains when they thought that we could trek through what is apparently a hundred miles of desert wasteland!"
"Kiba, we have no travel papers, no visas and not nearly enough money to pass through these Sunni checkpoints." Neji cut in brusquely after Shikamaru set his jaw, obviously not in the mood for any more conversation.
"So obviously escape into the desert when no one was looking was the next logical step…Sunni amongst the suna, hah, that's funny," Kiba laughed more to himself than to anyone else. The heat must've been getting to him as well.
"Its good to know that the government spent all that money improving education so delinquents like you could make half intelligible puns." Neji sighed scanning the horizon. A series of bare sand covered rolling hills with an occasional patch of shrubbery colored orange by a trick of the light stared back at him. It was barren country for miles around.
"Yeah well it was your family that paid…" Kiba paused realizing he might've touched on a sore subject. Shikamaru shot him a glare. Neji ignored the apparent faux pas and continued walking.
"I don't know why you insist on exerting the energy to argue with that idiot," Neji said with a world weary stoicism that only he could muster.
"Yeah, you're right. It's not like me, must be this damn sun." Shikamaru mumbled, pulling out a worn paper map he'd purchased from a balding salesman about a month ago. He looked it over, snorted in disgust and tried tossing it over his shoulder.
For now the road remained relatively flat, but if their journey had proved anything it was that the arid terrain could change with a minutes notice. Steep hills popped up in the most curious of places, then disappeared without notice. Around them formations had suddenly begun cropping up. Tall, rough walls of rock rose out of the ground on multiple sides, the peaks of the protrusions being colored with black volcanic stones from ancient times.
"Give me that…" Kiba demanded snatching the map out of mid air and trying to make heads or tails out of it. "Ei…Eiji…Eijiputo? Egypt? What kind of sense does that make…"
Neji and Kiba suddenly stopped dead in their tracks; taking another hard look at their surroundings. The area suddenly became deathly quiet. Shikamaru paused and turned towards the other two with a sullen scowl. Kiba sniffed the air as Akamaru began to growl. An empty wind blew across the tops of the cliffs sending a whistling sound through the air. Neji scanned the horizon again as he began to thumb the pearl white hilt of his sword.
"Tracks on the dunes ahead of us," he monotoned carefully, "Fresh ones."
"They're already here," Kiba growled, extending his arms. "I smell at least a dozen of them, on horseback."
"We're surrounded then?" Shikamaru asked with a disgruntled sigh, already knowing the answer full well.
Sensing their prey had stopped moving a collection of figures gradually began to emerge from behind the rock formations, riding up silently from behind the adjacent dunes and into full view. Each figure wore steel armor across their arms, they appeared draped in a collection of white and blue robes, all held together with a red sash tied across the waist with one final dull brown cloak draped over that. Dark eyes stared down at the group from beneath their pointed helmets, flanked by sheets of professionally constructed chain mail that covered both temples.
"To sneak up on us like this…not our proudest moment," Kiba chuckled eyeing the enemies steel tipped spears and scimitars. "Well Shikamaru? What's the plan?"
Shikamaru thumbed his sword like Neji and stared down the eyes of the armored warhorse in front of him. His eyes narrowed as the silent soldiers gripped their weapons tighter. The wind came to a halt as the stare down continued.
"I'm hot, I'm tired, I'm thirsty, and I'd rather be dead than listen to the rest of you work your jaws for the rest of the trip," Shikamaru finally snapped. He removed his katana from his belt and threw it to the ground. Kiba stared, his mouth agape. Neji just sighed, shrugged his shoulders and did the same. Akamaru whined again as Kiba snarled before removing his weapons, a pair of hand claws from his sleeves and tossing them down next to the others swords.
"This is such a drag."
Southern Wallachia, The Ottoman Empire 1798
Gaudy, was the only word that could be used to describe what the countryside looked like that night after the chieftains had finished decorating it. Large circus like tents had been set up on a hill that overlooked the burning husk of what had once been a peaceable peasants village.
Opulent crimson carpets had been spread out in six directions leading towards the main tent, itself clumsily inlaid with gold thread and expensive looking masks from the far reaches of the continent. Beyond the tent, ignoring the carpets stood groups of shabbily dressed soldiers, chewing on sunflower seeds and spitting the shells carelessly across the ground or herding their stolen livestock.
The entire thing seemed like a fantastic farce, a play at imperial grandeur; an attempt to inspire at least a modicum of awe of the bygone empires that had once held sway over the land. Inside the tent a plethora of Persian rugs were spread across the floor, one on top of another until the ground was no longer visible. The smell of smoke, sweat and wine wafted through the room, scantily clad dancing girls clung to the arms of the laughing men while solemn faced soldiers guarded the doors.
The chieftains themselves were even more hideously decorated than the tent, if that was possible. They all wore expensive looking silks, all in the most garish of colors. Their clothes were laden with precious gems, but they had been placed with no sense of tact or style. The clothes themselves were humorously large, almost exaggerated, either to contain all the stones or show off the colors. The end results could be seen in a chieftain proudly displaying his yellow sapphire covered purple turban three times the size of his own head.
Yet, at the moment fashion seemed to be the least of these men's worries. For men who like to pretend to be so very important any display of opulence is often enough. At the moment, all the important looking men were gathered around one girl. She wasn't dressed as scantily as the others women in the tent, her hair was tied up into two buns and she was carefully examining a firearm.
"And this one? Well come on now corporal girl be quick about it!" an arrogant voice barked. The man looked down disdainfully and twirled his long magnificent mustache. The girl narrowed her eyes, obviously in her element. She ran her hands over the barrel, tapped metal portions carefully and eyed the trigger suspiciously.
"This is an air rifle no doubt about it. Definetley Austrian in origin. Cast iron, takes a .46 caliber and judging by the quality of the welding as well as the design of the handle I'd say it's Girandoni made." She finally proclaimed proudly, as loud chattering suddenly broke out amongst the crowd. Cheers were heard as the men began clapping each other on the back.
The mustached man grabbed a silver goblet of wine and forced himself to step up onto a nearby table, no easy task as his rock stiff pants appeared to be made mostly of gold. As he awkwardly forced himself up he began shouting at the top of his voice.
"This is it gentlemen! Our gun runners were telling the truth. These weapons do indeed come from across the border of the Balkan province inside Austria itself! We have more than nominal support from those Hapsburg heathen nobles in our own revolution!"
"Then while the Sultan may have a won a siege our ultimate victory is assured!" the purple turban man proclaimed, raising his glass of wine into the air, and deciding it would be easier on his neck if he simply laid his head on a slave girls lap. More cheers were had as two other men began snapping their fingers, waving some of the girls over.
"My what a magnificent darling you've found yourself Mehmed!" an admiring chieftain spoke up approaching the woman who had examined the gun.
"Her eye for weaponry is simply spectacular!" a second agreed, stuffing plump grapes into his mouth at an alarmingly rapid pace.
"Yes, I do pride myself on this one. A charity case at first, found her in the slaving markets in East." Mehmed agreed, twirling his mustache again and nodding sagely. The woman's eyes looked like they were going to roll out of her head. Mehmed looked down at her with a condescending snarl.
"She does have certain special…oriental quality about her." The grape man commented, leaning in to get a better look at Mehmed's girl, juices dribbling down his chin.
"Oh! Nothing of the sort. She's positively plain, and her interests make her seem far to hermaphroditic in quality to make her of any interest to me." Mehmed laughed haughtily, the crowd broke into laughter as the wild revelry continued in the background. The woman, gritting her teeth finally spoke up.
"Unlock these chains then, we'll see how long the interests of any of your playthings last." Mehmed's face instantly went red as laughing broke out from any of the men within earshot.
"Oh well! Every slave has its drawback." The first admirer laughed, shaking his head.
"You should have beat that attitude out of her before she became set in her ways," the grape man agreed shrugging his shoulders and turning back to the food table. Mehmed violently tossed the glass into the woman's face as he had two guards help him down from the table. He towered over the sitting girl and did his best to look intimidating.
"Shut up, I did not think that I would have to remind you about not speaking out of turn. You disgrace me in front of my guests!" he yelled trying to save face, not minding the fact that most of the party was now indulged in other pleasures. He turned to a nervous looking man standing behind him. "Lee! Get her out of my sight!"
"Sir," the man with the bowl haircut acknowledged, bowing once and helping the girl gently to her feet before bolting for the nearest exit.
"You do place a good deal of faith in that bond servant of yours Mehmed, is it a eunuch?" the purple turban man asked from the floor.
"Oh ho, nothing of the sort." Mehmed replied airily, smugly satisfied with himself for regaining control of the situation. "If you had as much experience with Lee as I have you'd know there is little chance of him making a move on any member of my harem."
As soon as the pair was out of earshot of the tent Lee let go of the woman's arm. Immediately, a tirade of angry curses began spilling from her lips. Lee, reacting from experience moved to the side and gave her space.
"I'm going to kill him. I swear I'm going to kill him this time, I'm going to strangle him with these stupid scarves he makes me wear, shove him into the Black Sea and laugh as his stupid golden trousers pull him all the way to the bottom! Honestly, how dare he? I didn't ask for this! I didn't ask for any of this!" she stopped and gazed angrily out at the distance, past still smoldering village and towards the moon-illuminated hills.
"I do not think you are plain or hermaphroditic in quality Tenten," Lee spoke up energetically, trying his best to be helpful.
"Gee, thanks Lee," Tenten drawled back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"I am sorry Tenten, know that this is difficult for all of us." Lee said up, his voice still energetic as always.
"Hey its not your fault. Those morons are just broke Janissary officers turned bandits trying to play dress up anyways, what would they know?" Tenten huffed, setting herself down on the ground. She placed her head on her knees and sighed a defeated sigh. "Formerly the greatest empire this side of the Ganges, reduced to a hovel for bandits and corrupt viziers. And who do they drag all the way out here to fight their wars?"
"They drag us through enslavement!" Lee offered again, his voice still as preppy as the day she'd met him. Tenten gave him a dull, unimpressed look. Lee had always been terrible at reading the atmosphere, and as for rhetorical questions…well she wasn't even sure why she bothered.
"Just look at what we're doing out here." Tenten grumbled turning her eyes towards the glowing embers of the former village. Her eyes slowly worked their way over towards the distant guards casually patrolling the grounds. "We're getting out one day Lee, one day when their backs are turned we're getting out."
Alexandria, Egypt 1798
Even if they hadn't just emerged from the burned browned hills of the western deserts the bustling city of Alexandria would've still looked like a brazen explosion of color. Large green and white sycamore trees lined the paved sod roads towards the bazaar casting shadows on the veiled Armenian women doing noonday shopping, children and old men huddled in the shade chewing on fat burgundy colored dates. Greeks hustled from shop to shop under the yellowing awnings trading and moving their goods while peddlers shouted their wares from the street corners. A group of the cities Jewish community walked past an ancient looking Coptic Church, a glass blowing shop, and a magnificent marble white mosque before finally entering the synagogue for afternoon prayers.
It was quite a sight Neji decided, life for different peoples and cultures carrying on as it probably had for hundreds of years. It would have been even more poignant, he decided had not a spear been pointed towards his back for the duration of the trip.
The men on horseback shuffled them into a strange looking, large concrete building. They were quickly escorted though the entrance, across a plaza and into jail cell. Words were exchanged and soon Shikamaru was removed and sent into a darkened room before a stern looking Egyptian official and an ever more violent looking female standing up against the far wall.
"Oh they picked the dead fish eyed lazy ass huh?" The blonde haired woman drawled. He eyes narrowed, shooting daggers at the tired looking prisoner in the chair in front of her.
"Yeah, it's a pain but I'm the only one that knows Arabic…" he said with a shrug, seeming to infuriate the blonde women even more. "So what am I gonna do?"
"Let's start from the start," the man cut in. "My name is Baki, I've got your names from you identification. No idea how to pronounce them, but we've got them. Now just where are you from?"
"China," Shikamaru answered without missing a beat, looking the man dead in his eyes.
"You're the strangest looking China folk I've ever seen," the woman huffed from the corner.
"Oh and that's Temari, she was with the Mamluk post when they picked you up," Baki grumbled disapprovingly as he began jotting down some notes in a big book of old parchment with a fancy looking fountain pen.
"It's a big country." Shikamaru replied with a shrug.
"Well you do have identification, why not apply for a visa?" Baki asked quickly, making sure he had eye contact with the man on the stool.
"We are…persona non-grata in China." Shikamaru said after a pause, perfectly aware he was lying through his teeth. "We're work for hire."
"Mercenaries, oh that explains a lot." Temari practically bellowed. Shikamaru remained unmoved. His arms were crossed, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursued, clearly more annoyed than intimidated by the woman. His attitude seemed only to infuriate her ever further. With two large steps she was up in his face. "I'm calling you a coward you clown! We have enough guns for hire around here, and we certainly don't need anymore."
"You should let us go then," Shikamaru said flippantly. He would later swear that he'd seen veins bulge in her forehead.
"You know smartass, when that border post hauled you up here I was completely in favor of just chopping your heads off for being potential Persian spies."
"Then I'm truly a man with nothing to loose," Temari raised an arm, and for a second Shikamaru truly believed she was going to punch his face in.
"Enough Temari," the man said once more. Temari growled, but lowered her arm nonetheless without another word. "Please excuse her, of course you'll understand our suspicions. Nevertheless, I'd like to hear more of your profession. I may have work for you…"
"Think you'll ever go back?" Neji almost rolled his eyes at Kiba's comment, almost. He could blame his upbringing for his stoic or condescending attitude. Ceremony had been key in the Hyuga clan, and Hyuga's were always taught to hold themselves with poise. Of course to blame his upbringing would've been the easy way out, in truth he'd always hated small talk.
"We fled the country, we're ronin now. Just wanderers." He replied evenly as he continued to sit silently on the prison bench. Kiba scrunched his face at this as he continued to pet Akamaru who had fallen asleep as soon as he'd drained the water bowl provided to him. Neji was always impossible to read, he certainly seemed more driven that Shikamaru, but in a different sense he was just as ambivalent. Nothing was ever too bad, nothing was ever too good, food was never amazing, or disgusting, the weather was never too much one way or another. He never complained, but he never seemed to be going anywhere either. To him Neji was just coasting.
"Correction, you two are ronin, but that shouldn't matter. Don't you miss any of it? I mean I'm an Ainu of course, never got along with you ethnic Japanese, but that doesn't mean the place wasn't my home. It doesn't change the fact that I'd like to go back someday…"
Neji held up a hand as memories briefly flashed before his eyes.
"Kiba you know what happened to my family. There's nothing left for me there." He said simply, eyes and face betraying no emotion.
"Oh, ok so you're just alright with wandering around aimlessly with only your sword to your name."
"That's the general implication of the title ronin. If this is what fate has dictated for me…then so be it." Neji said. He sighed inwardly. That was true, he told himself bitterly. Life would throw what it would at you, it was just your job to make sure your were strong enough to face it, that's all there was to it.
"Get up losers, we've got a boat to catch." A Japanese voice said from outside the cell. Kiba looked up surprised as Akamaru jerked his head forward to the familiar sound.
"What?" he asked as the jailer unlocked the rusty iron cell door and slid it open with a creak.
"I got us a job. Oh yeah, we're Chinese now. Ahh man, it's going to be a pain keeping all of this straight." Shikamaru groaned rubbing the back of his head as he tossed the pair their weapons.
"Oh what, they arrest us and then they just ship us off to an unknown location?" Kiba asked with a raised eyebrow. Neji shrugged indifferently.
"You have a better idea then?" he asked, fully ready for this conversation to be over "This is it, we're wanderers remember?"
"You don't believe that, you don't believe that for a second." Kiba almost snapped.
"Shut up, I've had enough arguing for one day I really have," Shikamaru yawned tiredly for a second time as the group headed for the exit.