** disclaimer: Digimon does not belong to me. Takeru Takaishi / Ishida, Hikari Kamiya, Yolei Inoue, Davis Motomiya, Ken Ichijouji and Cody Hida don't belong to me. If they did, I'd be rich. The Taelidani, the Khaydarin, Sai Auia, Razul and Locke do belong to me. So leave me alone you vultures!
**Author's notes: Again, I'd like to show my appreciation for my two editors, Phawx and Dreamwalker, both of which have helped me iron out the wrinkles in this story. Thanks guys, I couldn't have done it without you. Don't know 'bout you, but I'm having a blast!! ^_^
Pilgrimage: Chapter Six
By: TK Takaishi
**Two days later**
Ken looked away from the tall window in his palace, unwilling to see the frightened crowds of people, his people, streaming away towards the east. People torn from their lives, uprooted forcefully so that they may live. The royal decree was out. At Ken's own urging, the people were taking to the forested, mountainous regions deeper within Ichijouji, where the might of the military now lay.
The bells of Sai Auia were ringing urgently, the warm brazen tones that normally called the city's inhabitants to service, now tolling out a message of danger. Just as it had been every hour of every day since Takeru had revealed the shocking news to the Council. Messengers shouted out warnings from the delicate white spires to the confused crowd below, whilst soldiers marched throughout the street, urging the people on. Clouds of dust enveloped the city from the marching people, and confusion reined within the walls. Ken had briefly considered staying, and trying to survive the siege until reinforcements came, but had just as quickly abandoned that idea. If it had been simply soldiers that were coming at them, that would have been Ken's strategy.
But the hunter-seekers changed everything. Khaydarin did not aim to capture the city intact. The hunter-seekers could easily scale the walls in a matter of minutes. And once on top, they would have an easy time of it, with their prey nice and boxed in within their own "protection". It was how they had taken Palas, fifteen years ago. Ken had no intention of repeating that particular incident.
Within an hour of Takeru's revelation, after the ministers had discussed strategy after useless strategy, it had become obvious. Micah had remarked that it was the quickest decision this particular council had ever made. No matter how they tackled the odds, changed the rules, or challenged the inevitable, Sai Auia was lost. But her people need not be.
And as Ken turned back to the familiar surroundings of his private study, he couldn't help but feel slightly calmer. The old, wood-lined walls were no different from before, and the ever-present dust motes from centuries-old scrolls and books drifted in the air, glowing a deep gold in the mild sunlight. Takeru, sitting on the luxuriuous leather chair beside Cody and Yolei, gave Ken a quizzical look for the confident grin on his face. Ken ignored him, and let his gaze wander around the small but comfortable room. Kari was standing beside the window as well, looking down at the streaming crowd beside him, while Davis had opted to stand rather than sit, leaning on the wall beside the doorframe and the bookshelf that spanned the entire southern wall, packed full of dusty volumes. Micah was the only one who understood Ken's confidence, and he too, smiled with shared excitement.
The enormity of their mere presence was not lost on either of them. For the first time in a decade and a half, the Council of Old had been reassembled. All six crests, as represented in these six children gathered form the most unlikely of places, had been united. With them, Ken felt almost invincible. Ironic, isn't it? he thought wryly to himself. I have the best soldiers, and the best bodyguards in the land, yet I feel much, much safer in the company of desert nomads and farmers…
"What's this about?" Cody asked as he looked around the room, looking around. "We were helping out with the evacuation efforts."
It was Takeru that answered. "Ken called this meeting to hear my story, from beginning to end as I promised. And he wants all concerned to be present."
Kari looked concerned. "But there's so much left to do…"
Ken shook his head. "We have two days before we move out as scheduled. Everything's going smoothly. Sparing an hour wouldn't hurt."
Micah sat down with an expression of intense interest, while Kari chose to remain standing by the window. Davis looked around to see if everyone was settled, then turned to Takeru. "All right," he started impatiently. "Everyone else has already told their stories. It's time you told yours."
Takeru opened his mouth to begin, but Davis held up a hand. He fixed the blond boy with a glare. "The truth, all of the truth, and nothing but the truth. Get it? I'm tired of being left in the dark."
His belligerent tone almost made Ken smile. All his life, he'd been surrounded by fawning ministers, eager to curry a favour with him. Yes, he thought with satisfaction. It was good to be among equals for a change.
Takeru didn't seem offended by Davis' words. He nodded, and folded his arms with a sigh. Leaning back in his chair, he stared at the ceiling. "Where to start…," he mused. After a moment of reflection, he opened his mouth, and started speaking.
"Fifteen years ago, a Khaydarin army attacked and destroyed Palas in a completely unprecedented strike. The capital was caught completely off-guard, and the city was taken within one night, and burned to the ground. In that same attack, Emperor Masaharu Ishida, Empress Natsuko Ishida, and both their children, Crown Prince Yamato Ishida and Prince Takeru Ishida were killed trying to defend their kingdom."
"That's how the history books put it," Micah said cautiously. He glanced at Takeru carefully. "And…that's obviously not true."
Takeru shook his head. "My father and my brother died as recorded. What they failed to record, was that my mother did not die in vain. Early on in the battle, she was hit with a poisoned arrow. Moments before she died, she handed me, only seven months old, to one of her most trusted men. The Ishidan knight Vargas Takaishi. And then she told him to run. To run as far and as fast as he could."
Davis, Yolei and Cody exchanged glances at the mention "Takaishi". So that was where Takeru had taken his false last name.
"Over the next two years, Vargas ran. Taking care of me all the while, he wandered from place to place, keeping hidden. He changed his name to Richard. He cut off all ties with his past, and for all intents and purposes, disappeared from sight. And when I was only two years old, he finally settled down in Kurtal, in the Novinha mountain ranges."
Ken jerked in his seat. He sat up abruptly, and his gaze suddenly became unnaturally intense. "The Novinha mountain ranges, you say? The ones in the west?"
Takeru looked confused. "Yes, that's the place. Richard wanted to be as far away from Ishida as possible, so no one would suspect."
Ken took a moment to digest this. Then he nodded. "Continue."
"It was there that he raised me. He kept my identity secret to everyone, even me." Takeru laughed, a harsh bark in the back of his throat. "I didn't know I was Ishidan until I was fourteen, and then only because I inadvertently summoned my stand. For all those years, I thought he was my true father. And in some ways, I still do. I really honestly thought my last name was 'Takaishi'. Ask Kari. She'll confirm everything I've said."
Kari gave Takeru a wry smile, and nodded. Davis, on the other hand, shook his head. "And I thought you were making up all that crap about Kurtal. You really did grow up there, didn't you?"
But Micah was leaning forward excitedly. "I thought I recognized the name, but I couldn't be sure till now. Vargas?! Ishidan knight Vargas Takaishi? I know the man! I've met him. Indeed, worked with him as Ichijouji's liaison for a long time. Fine man. Upright, honest, and one of the best sword-masters I've ever had the honour of meeting. I've seen his Shun Ten Satsu shatter rock. Lost contact with him when Ishida fell, naturally. So tell me, how is he now?"
Takeru lapsed into an awkward pause. After an uncomfortable silence, it was Kari that finally answered for him. "He…he's dead. He died a year ago trying to protect us as we ran from Khaydarin."
Yolei and Cody looked down on the floor. Davis stared at Takeru. Ken sighed, and looked out the window. And Micah looked stricken. "Vargas? Dead?"
Kari nodded. "He went out fighting," she added, trying to soften the blow.
At that, Micah settled back into his chair, running a hand through his white hair. "I…I'm sorry. I didn't know. I didn't think anyone could wound him, much less kill him." He sighed. "Like I said, Vargas was a fine man. He will be missed."
For an awkward moment, nobody spoke. Takeru looked out the window, trying to deal with the fresh wave of grief that had come with the mention of Richard. It was Ken that finally broke the silence.
"Takeru," he said quietly. "You were…what…seven months old when Vargas took off with you?"
"That's right."
"So you've been wandering for…around fourteen years and five months."
Takeru tilted his head. "I usually just round it to fifteen. But five months sounds right…"
"I need to know exactly how long. To the day."
Davis stared at the Prince at the odd request. Takeru glanced at Kari as he did some quick mental calculations. "Fourteen years, five months and six days," he finally said after a minute.
Kari nodded in affirmation. The girl glanced at an old, pendulum clock on the wall. "And fourteen hours," she added sarcastically. "What's this about?"
Micah was staring at Ken too, then back at Takeru. "You don't think…"
Ken stared back levelly. "Why not? If a miracle were to occur, we need one now more than ever."
"Dear God in heaven…," the old minister whispered. "If it's true…"
Davis looked between the others, and received only puzzled glances from both Takeru and Kari. "What's going on?" he demanded. "Why am I always the last to find things out?"
Ken abruptly got up, and went to the book shelf that covered one entire wall of the private study. Running his finger along the dusty volumes, he browsed for a minute, then finally pulled a thick old book off the shelf. There was no dust on this one, although the cover was worn, and the pages creased. The Prince apparently read this book often.
Bringing it back to the gathering, Ken put the old text down on the table carefully. History of Gaea: An Anthology to Ancient Texts, Takeru read. So Ken had an interest in history, specifically in the field of religion. Not unheard of. Takeru himself had an interest in history, though he was more concerned with politics. Questioningly, the blond boy looked up.
"Takeru," Ken said quietly. "Before Vargas, or Richard, died, did he say anything about having to get back to Ishida? At all costs?"
A shiver ran down Takeru's spine. "Yes," he said slowly. "He did. He was very adamant that even without him, I absolutely must get to the ruins of Ishida. But he never got round to explaining why before he was killed. That's…why I'm wandering this far from the mountains. I trust him to point me in the right direction, even in death."
Ken and Micah exchanged meaningful glances. Then Ken opened the book. He flipped through the pages, passing through centuries of history until he had gotten to somewhere near the end. His blue eyes narrowed as he scanned the text. Curious, Davis and Yolei got up to peer over the Prince's shoulder. Takeru and Kari craned their necks as they too took a look.
And a familiar passage leapt out at them like lightning.
"He shall live the way of the wanderer. Fifteen years, his journey shall span from the ranges of the Western mountains, to the place where the Sun rises each morn. His homeland by birth and blood.
Fifteen years, at the end of which, he shall discover the heritage left unto him by the Lord.
Such is the life of the rurouni, follower of the holy pilgrimage."
"Takeru…," Kari whispered, her eyes wide. "Isn't that…"
"Fifteen years," Ken said softly. "We're coming up on that in less than a year. From the 'Western mountains' to the 'place where the Sun rises each morn'. From Kurtal to Ishida. That's why I had to be absolutely certain Richard truly brought you there before I said anything. Takeru, this passage from Prophecies. It describes you! And Prophecies was written five hundred years ago!!!"
Takeru felt like he had been kicked.
"I…I recognize that passage," he heard himself say. "Richard quoted it. Just before…just before he died. Kari and I both decided he was making it up." He stared incredulously at the book. "But I had no idea it was real!"
"But…," Yolei said hesitantly, "What if Richard had known this passage all along? What if he purposely set out to fulfill it? From the very beginning? Bringing you to Kurtal, et cetera, et cetera…"
Kari shook her head. "He was forced to Kurtal. After Takeru found out his identity, he told both of us. He had been hunted everywhere else, and the mountains was the one sanctuary left in Gaea. There were no other places to hide…"
"And the 'homeland by birth and blood' part sounds pretty hard to duplicate," Yolei conceded.
Kari looked pensive. "But that's not all…" Her finger traced the minute text on the page. "This…this whole section of the book deals with a particular segment of the book Prophecies."
Cody looked up. "Don't you have the original Prophecies?"
"As for the book Prophecies itself," Ken said smoothly, "no copy of it has been found for the past three hundred years. They were either all destroyed, or all lost. This…anthology, only quotes it. Incompletely."
Micah made an interested noise, and moved over to join her as they scanned the text together.
"And the whole rurouni prophecy was only one of a series. For example, it says here…" Micah frowned as he read aloud. "'Then I saw five angels, holding back all the corners of the earth.' Blah blah blah. 'The key to God's inheritance rests in the stone of Ishida.' Sounds like a whole lot of religious nonsense to me. Vague, and it could mean anything. And besides, this whole section only scrapes together fragments of…ahah!"
Micah stabbed his finger down. "This is interesting. And concrete. 'The one I speak of will not appear as many will think. He shall come as humble as the poorest peasant, the servant king in disguise. But you shall know him by this: The mark of battle will forever remain on his left shoulder.'"
Everyone looked at Takeru.
The boy's blue eyes were wide with shock. Likewise, Kari's face was pale as a sheet as she locked gazes with him. Wordlessly, the blond boy drew up his sleeve all the way up past his left shoulder.
And there gleamed a faint, narrow white scar.
"I got this when I was fourteen," he said faintly. "A Khaydarin centurion stabbed me with his scimitar, and the blade went all the way through my shoulder, and out my back. I have a matching scar on my left shoulder-blade."
The silence was deafening. In three quick strides, Ken had walked over to stand in front of Takeru. Putting a hand up against the scar, he carefully traced the white line on the blond boy's shoulder to make sure it was genuine. Then walking behind him, he found the matching scar on Takeru's back.
"But what does this mean?" Kari asked softly. "How could some five hundred year-old book be describing Takeru?!"
Ken looked pained. "Like Micah said, only fragmented sections of the original Prophecies have been recovered. We're…simply not sure what it means."
Micah rubbed his chin. "What we do know is that…"
And then they were interrupted as the door to the study flew open. A harried-looking Ichijouji soldier in a green uniform ran in and stood at attention. "Your Majesty, I- "
Ken let go of Takeru's arm and glared at the guard. "I thought I left orders that we were not to be disturbed…"
The soldier swallowed nervously, but he didn't back down. "Prince Ken, this is urgent. It could not wait."
Concern flickered in Micah's eyes. "Report," he said curtly.
"We have just received word. Advanced scouts have spotted the Khaydarin army. Almost the entire scouting team was killed, but a couple survivors managed to get away. And sir, Khaydarin has apparently stepped up the pace. They won't be here in five days.
"They'll be here in two."
Micah looked stunned. Ken however, took the news in silence. All of a sudden, his blue eyes went hard and cold, like chiseled pieces of sapphire. He stood up.
"Alert the ministers, and tell them that they are to leave immediately," he said to the soldier as he stood up. "Then report this to the General of my army. Minister Micah will leave in a few minutes. I want the entire military force of Sai Auia gathered in the courtyard of this palace within half an hour, and I want them ready to leave, battle-ready, within one. And ready my horse. I'm going with them."
"But sire- ", Micah protested.
"Speed up the evacuation," Ken continued. "I know it's too much to ask to get all these people out in a day, but I damned well want you to try. Continue in the path already set. Go east, head for the sea, and seek the protection of the mountains there. Run if you can, hide if you have to. Do whatever it takes to keep these people safe until the fifth and sixth Imperial corps arrive. Do you understand?"
The breathless soldier nodded.
"Go then. I will join you shortly."
Spinning on his heel, the soldier raced off to do Ken's bidding. Micah stood up, eyes blazing.
"Prince Ken, this is lunacy! As a minister, I must protest. There is no way we'd be able to fend off an army of that- "
"We have to buy the people at least some time," the Prince said. "And we don't have to engage them directly. Just worry them a little, divert them- "
"Casualties would still be- "
"What else is there to do? Evacuate everyone in a day, and get them far enough to be unreachable? It can't be done! These people aren't soldiers! We have the very young, and the very old, the weak, and the infirm. They cannot travel at the speed an army can!"
"Reinforcements are- "
"At least four days away." Ken looked said. Then even his composure cracked as he slammed a fist down onto the oak study table. A crack split down the middle of the heavy wood. When he spoke again, his voice was husky with restrained rage. "Too far to make a difference. It'll be all over by then. If anyone's going to die…," and here he faltered, "it'll be the soldiers who took an oath of allegiance to their country, and not innocent civilians."
"I see," Micah said quietly. But his eyes remained defiant. "But I must insist that Your Highness leave with the civilians, instead of going with the army. You are too valuable to- "
"My life is not my own," Ken said determinedly. "If I am to ask soldiers to fight and die for their country, they will do it with me fighting alongside them."
Micah opened his mouth to protest, but Ken turned instead to Davis. "Are you authorized to speak for your nation, and not just your tribe?"
Davis stared back. "Yes. All T'rakuls are."
Ken's blue eyes burned into the Taelidani's. "War is coming. Khaydarin saw to that when they destroyed Maran. But the Taelidani have no stake in this. When war does come, do I have the Taelidani's pledge that they will remain neutral in the conflict?"
Kari stared back and forth. She knew why Ken was so anxious. The Taelidani were the desert's deadliest warriors by far. Their allegiance, or lack of it, could decide the outcome of a war.
Davis and Yolei exchanged glances. A barely perceptible nod passed between them. Then, Davis turned back, and pulled his lips back to reveal his teeth. It was by no means a grin. "You have it, and more. In the event of that war, we will be fighting alongside you. The soldiers of my staven will be marching with yours against Khaydarin, while Yolei, Cody and the rest will help with the evacuation."
Micah exhaled loudly. Ken's face broke into a huge grin. "This is a powerful pledge of friendship. Are you certain you wish to bring this upon your fellow Taelidani?"
Yolei stepped up. "Prince Ken, in the event of that war, we would never be allowed to remain neutral anyway," she said firmly. "We have seen the indiscriminate slaughter of Khaydarin, and the cruelty of their actions. And so, the side we choose, is yours."
"As do we," Takeru said firmly as he stood up with Kari. "Your Highness, I request that I be allowed to join you in the fight against Khaydarin, and that Kari be allowed to help your people with the evacuation."
Micah looked horrified. "We cannot ask the Crown Prince of Ishida to fight our battles for us! Unlike us, you have no personal stake in this!!"
"Personal?" Kari's eyes were suddenly blazing. "Those were the same people that killed Richard. Those were the same people that burned Takeru's country to the ground. You'd better believe that this is personal!"
Takeru put a gentle hand on her shoulder. When he spoke, his voice was calmer than Kari's, but no less determined. "Before the end of the Age, our nations were bound by strong bonds of friendship. Now, everything is changing. Virtually all other allegiances has become meaningless.
"But if I could…I would like to honour that old friendship…in hopes of starting a new one."
Ken stared back and forth between Takeru and Davis for a long time. Both boys remained steadfast. Finally, Ken nodded. "Very well then," he said with a smile of relief. "I accept your offers. As long as I live, I will see to it that this is not forgotten.
"Kari, Yolei and Cody will help with the evacuation as best they could. Takeru, Davis and the Taelidani warriors will be marching with me. If all goes well, we'll meet you in a weeks time at the eastern mountains. I suggest you prepare yourselves. Like I said, we march within the hour."
Without another word, Ken spun on his heel and left with Micah, already locked in a heated debate. Davis looked around, and gave Yolei a swift nod. "Take care of my staven," Davis murmured. "I'll be taking two-score soldiers with me, the rest I leave in your hands." His face softened. "Stay with the Sai Auians. There's safety in numbers. Don't look for me, I'll find you." Then he too was gone, running out to the
courtyard to see his tribe.
Takeru glanced at Kari. Her expression was neutral but hard, showing no emotion. Standing up, he checked his sword, and slung his cloak back onto his shoulders. "I'll see you in a week," he said awkwardly. Turning to the door, he began striding out.
"Takeru."
The blond prince turned around with a question in his eyes. An ever so fleeting smile touched Kari's lips. "Kiserati dai'tan Yahweh."1
Takeru's returning grin was glad, albeit strained and small. "Kiserati dai'tan Yahweh," he murmured in agreement. "I promise I'll be back." Then tearing his eyes away, he ran down the hallway to join the others.
**********
**one day later**
The few soldiers Sai Auia could spare tried to direct the confused and frightened crowd as quickly and efficiently as possible. Coarse, shouted commands filled the air. A massive column of people snaked across the land as Sai Auia gradually emptied itself, a tide of people streaming along the desert. Trying to seek shelter deeper in Ichijoujan territory before the raging storm of war broke over them.
Dust and sand from the many marching feet waved across the sky, obscuring the land like a hazy sandstorm. Cries of lost children and broken families sounded in the air, but there was no time to find them. No time for anything but to flee. Wooden carts drawn by frightened, whickering horses, stuffed full to the brim with crates of squawking chickens, rattling chests and furnishings contributed to the deafening din. The people were leaden-eyed, their faces drawn, pale and emotionless. Exhaustion slowed the column down; fear flogged them on mercilessly. Every able bodied man that was willing had been given a weapon to fight with, and sent to the west. Everyone else was hurried away to the mountains to the east.
There were very few among the column that wished they were with the Ichijoujan army that had departed in the opposite direction a day ago. Any brave souls that thus desired had already joined the column. They left with no illusions that all they could hope to accomplish was a desperate holding action, trying to buy the people just a few more days. A few more hours even. To buy with their blood the time needed for the thousands of Sai Auian inhabitants to make their way into the deep forests and mountains of the east. There were a few that clung to the hope that the Ichijoujan army might actually emerge victorious.
But those were the dreamers, the idealists who were blind to the fact that Ichijouji was outnumbered four to one. And while any who desired to fight may appreciate the desperate need for leadership from these people, their regret that they were missing one of the biggest battles of the decade did not fade.
Hikari Kamiya was one of those people. It was not that she wanted to fight, exactly. But as she trudged along, helping to direct where she could, her thoughts could not help but drift back again and again to a certain laesbube, who would be engaging in battle just about now. She gritted her teeth as she glanced at her left arm, still bandaged at the shoulder. Takeru had been right. She was of more value here.
But as she was so fond of reminding Takeru, logic had nothing to do with emotion. Especially fear. And she was getting very tired of letting him do all the fighting.
At least when they had wandered together, she had known that he was safe, because he was right beside her. Now, that lack of knowledge drove her crazy. They had made a promise to each other to rely on each other, that neither of them would have to complete the journey to Ishida alone.
If he died because she wasn't there to protect him, there was no way she would forgive herself. That promise had been sacred.
Then all such thoughts were banished from her mind as a young girl clutching a stuffed bear stumbled and fell against her legs. She could be no more than six, and she lay there whimpering as the milling people threatened to crush her frail body. Without hesitation, Kari knelt down and picked up the small girl with her good arm, allowing her to rest against her shoulder. "Hush now…don't cry…" she murmured as she looked around.
The girl looked up, her dirty face streaked with tears. "I…I…"
Kari reached up with her left arm, and gently wiped away a tear from the girl's dirty cheek. "Don't worry," she said. "We'll find your mommy. But first, we have to get you to a safe place." Seeing no one that seemed to be the girl's parents, Kari stood up with the girl safely cradled in her arm, and forged ahead into the crowd. The child hung onto the back of the Kurtalian girl's neck to prevent herself from falling.
As they walked, Kari kept talking to try and reassure the sobbing, frightened girl. "My name is Hikari, but everyone just calls me Kari. What's yours?"
The girl tried to wipe away her tears with one hand. "Mara," she whispered.
"That's a pretty name," Kari said. She squeezed the girl's hand reassuringly.
"Baby? Where are you?!"
Both girls turned at the voice. Hurrying towards them was a frantic woman wearing a shawl. Dropping her stuffed toy, Mara squealed as she wriggled out of Kari's grasp, and rushed into the woman's arms. The mother closed her eyes in relief. "Mara, I thought I'd lost you. Don't you ever go wandering off again…"
Then the mother straightened up as she saw Kari. She appeared flustered. "I…I don't know how to thank you…"
Kari stooped and picked up the stuffed toy Mara had dropped, and handed it back to the stunned mother. "Don't worry about it." Then she disappeared back into the grimy, frightened crowd, to find the next "Mara" that needed her help.
**********
Above the desert buttes and mesas, the normally bright blue sky was a dull, lead gray. In the absence of sunlight, the buttes, normally a friendly, sandstone-red, appeared a dead gray. The shaded land shimmered as a brisk wind scouring the sand, sending small sand-storms racing across the desert. Dead clumps of dried bracken dotted the sides and bottoms of the long, deep canyon, the streambed of a long-gone river. The stratified walls of the canyon were a sheer drop in some places, a treacherous slide of loose gravel in others.
Takeru watched grimly on top of the canyon wall as Taelidani warriors all around him quietly strung their bows. They were utterly silent, and grimly efficient in their work. Before him, snaking silently through the canyon was the massive Khaydarin army, looking for all the world like a flowing river of black, obscuring the ground.
"Why don't they use their cloaks?" Davis whispered at the boy.
"I don't think using it for long periods of time is good for it." Takeru looked anxiously back, towards end of the canyon, and the steep incline up to level ground. "Is Ken ready?"
"He is," Davis reassured. "He left this part to us because his soldiers are no good at this type of warfare. They were trained for open battle. We were better suited."
"He trusted you to do this?" Takeru said doubtfully.
Davis rubbed a little beeswax onto his bowstring, and checked his dual kodachis for the tenth time. "Watch. And learn."
It had taken less than a full day of marching, and they had already made first contact. Scouts were much more careful this time in approaching the enemy, and Khaydarin seemed to know nothing of their presence.
Of course, those scouts had been Taelidani. Davis had taken along two-score soldiers. The rest he had sent with Yolei and the people of Sai Auia. But after only a single day, Takeru had begun to wonder what would have happened if he had not been paying attention that night they attacked. When the desert warriors so wished, they disappeared so perfectly and indistinguishably into their surroundings, be it dune, mesa, butte, or canyon, that it was a match for Khaydarin's stealth cloaks. From afar, they looked like nothing more than shimmering, shifting patches of rock, sliding in and out of the scant shadows like a soundless breeze. He had yet to see their combat skills, but at the very least, they would make for amazing hunters.
Davis shifted beside the blond boy. He made a strange gesture with his right hand, index and middle finger held up together, all other fingers folded in. "Nuchidu Vu," he whispered.
None of the Taelidani responded, but Takeru could feel the definite change in the anticipation-filled atmosphere. All at once, hands tightened harder on their bows, and arrows were drawn back further. All emotion was completely banished from the soldier's faces.
"The unleashing of the most primal fighting instincts in our people. For the duration of this battle, they have ceased to become human." Davis sighted impassively down the shaft of his arrow as his voice turned ironic. "It's been a long time since I used that command. Khaydarin should be honoured…."
Takeru's throat felt dry as he raised his bow. The yew trembled with the strain, but he waited for Davis's command. Which came soon enough.
"Begin."
Instantly, the entire hidden force, numbering a "grand" total of twenty, sprang up from behind their cover and unleashed their arrows straight down on the enemy. Takeru unleashed his own arrow, then watched incredulously as all twenty arrows found a mark. Not one of the Taelidani missed. Screams broke out from the Khaydarin ranks.
"Down," Davis hissed, and everyone dropped back down as a few retaliatory arrows flew back up, too uncoordinated and too poorly aimed to do any damage. Takeru however, peered just over the edge.
In three seconds precisely, the other twenty men of Davis's forty man mini-army rose up from the opposite canyon wall. The instant the Khaydarin's soldiers backs were turned, they sent their arrows slashing into the army again. Takeru watched horrified as the Taelidani arrows thudded into their victims bodies with incredible force. One Khaydarin soldier's head simply exploded in a shower of blood, brain matter, and skull fragments as an arrow traveled straight through it without stopping. Entire limbs were snapped off in the blink of an eye. Horrible, agonized screams echoed off the canyon walls.
Not a single arrow missed.
"Time we weren't here," Davis said, tugging urgently on Takeru's arm, and he numbly followed the rest of the group as they faded away quickly into the canyon walls, running along the edge towards the north-east. Although they could not be seen, the other twenty-man group was also doing the same, retreating backwards before Khaydarin could organize a counter-attack.
The blond boy's mind was reeling as he ran. In the first five seconds of battle, a mere Taelidani force of forty-two had suffered no casualties, and killed exactly forty-two people. In any other small-scale engagement, the Taelidani would have won already. And even in an army as large as this, two-score soldiers was a significant loss.
What were these people?!!
**********
The Khaydarin troops were thrown into complete disarray as soldiers ran this way and that, trying in vain to find who had fired on them. Horses whinnied and reared up, throwing their riders off their backs as they lashed out with steel-shod hooves in panic. Caylor reigned in his black warhorse, trying to control its crazed kicks and plunges as he shouted above the confusion and milling din. "Report," he thundered. "What's going on?!"
Locke's mount skidded to a stop, beside his superior. "We were ambushed. Arrows, sir."
"I know that! How many did we lose?"
It was a mere twenty seconds later that the Praetor got his answer. "Forty-two dead sir. No wounded."
"No wounded?!"
"Whoever was struck was killed instantly sir. No exceptions."
"I can see them! They're on the canyon walls, retreating off to the east! Archers, prepare to fire- "
"Belay that order!" Caylor shouted. "Nobody moves until I tell them to!"
"They knew we were coming!" Karensky gritted through his clenched teeth as he rode up to Caylor. "How the hell did they find out?"
"It was a gamble that we wouldn't be discovered in the first place, and we lost!" Caylor snapped back. "But even if we had been discovered, I expected them to try a holding action at Sai Auia itself! I never expected them to make such a daring move! The nerve! Ambushing us!"
"Sai Auia's people are probably running away as we speak, and Ken is undoubtedly with them!" Karensky glared at the other. "They must have thought they could buy their people some time!"
Caylor however, looked doubtful. "I'm not sure about that… Ken doesn't seem to be the type to run…"
Karensky sneered. "Why? Do you know him personally?"
The other stared back coolly. "I do not need to. A leader that runs from an engagement wouldn't be anything we'd have to worry about."
Locke looked back and forth across the cliff-tops, trying to see if there were any more soldiers hidden there. "Sir," he said urgently, "if they know we're here, an army this size can't get across the net they've undoubedly set up without detection, even with stealth cloaks…"
"Make your decision quickly, Praetor," Karensky warned, "before I make it for you."
Caylor did. "Centurion Locke, prepare this army for war. Tell them, no-one is to attack until they hear my command." He turned to Karensky. "I would suggest you prepare your own army divisions as well. We don't know how large the Ichijouji force is, and underestimating the enemy is often disastrous."
"We'll wipe them out first. Then, when we move against Ken, there will be no-one to stop us."
**********
It turned out Karensky could not have been more wrong. The object of their discussion was not retreating along with his people. Ken Ichijouji was crouched on top of a cliff, about a half-mile upriver, or north-east, from Takeru and Davis' position. His hand reflexively clenched, and released his sword hilt. Behind him, spread out along the top of the cliff edge, were stationed the entire three hundred soldiers of his army, all with taut bowstrings and loaded slings.
"Where are they?" he muttered softly to himself as he checked his sword for the fifth time. One of the men beside him nervously shifted his grip on his bow, wiping his sweaty palms on the green Ichijoujan tunic under his mail shirt. Ken felt a twinge of uncertainty pass through him. They had heard the faint screams from Davis's Taelidani ambush echo down the valley nearly five minutes ago. If Davis and Takeru had followed the plan, then both groups, along both sides of the canyon walls, should have retreated back to his own position. He should be able to see them running towards them by now. The intent was to draw Khaydarin out into a side canyon, where Ken's army, with their greater firepower, could cause even more damage.
But it was not working. Khaydarin was not cooperating, and they were not following. And now, with both Davis and Takeru somewhere out there, Ken had no idea what they were doing. The silence was deafening, hanging heavily in the air like a blanket, still enough for each man to feel his own heartbeat in his ears. Hang it all, he thought angrily. This not knowing is driving me crazy. Carefully, he summoned his stand, not caring what response he evoked from his men.
A light green aura surrounded him as a shimmering shape emerged from his body. The humanoid stand was robed in green and black amour, and tapered, dragon-fly wings vibrated slightly on its back, and became still. The gray afternoon sunlight gleamed off its shimmering form, giving it an outline of a liquid, fiery gold. The effect was an emphasis not on grace and power like Takeru's angel-stand, but an emphasis on sleek speed.
Ken carefully scanned the opening of the canyon with his stand. There was nothing there. The millenia old boulders and rocky cliffs stood as timeless as ever. Frowning, he turned his gaze straight down, into the middle of the canyon. Logically, if no-one saw Khaydarin coming through the opening, there should be nothing within the canyon…
Then something stirred in the canyon. A slight whisper stirred the sandy bottom as gently as a summer breeze. The hackles on the back of Ken's neck rose up as he frantically searched the floor of the canyon again. The wind? He thought. Stavik, if it's not…
Then he saw it again. And this time, all doubt was driven from his mind.
Thin air pressed a distinct footprint into the sand.
Ken swore viciously. "Everyone!" he shouted at once, the loud command shattering the silence like so much glass. "HEADS DOWN!!!"
Astonished by the sudden shout, only about half of his soldiers obeyed. The other half hesitated, and looked at Ken for a crucial split second. They paid dearly for it.
A virtual storm of arrows slashed upwards like vicious, humming hornets, thoroughly raking the lip of the cliff. Horrible screams and gurgling cries rang out as nearly a score of Ken's soldiers died instantly, impaled by the Khaydarin shafts. After the first volley, several Ichijoujans sprang up to return fire, but those were killed instantly by a second round of rapidly uncloaking archers, and another chorus of choking screams grated on Ken's ears. A thunderous roar shook the centuries-old cliffs as the entire Khaydarin army de-cloaked in perfect unison, their weapons already unsheathed.
"Keep your heads down you fools!" Ken roared over the melee. "Archers, don't fire until- "
Suddenly, panicked screams broke out along the flanks of the army. "What the hell are these things?!" "They're everywhere?!"
Ken whirled around to see at least fifty black, slavering shapes tearing through the ranks of his soldiers like so much cheese. The vicious beasts, swept through the astonished soldiers like a whirlwind through chaff, their claws and teeth ripping through armour and flesh alike.
There was nothing for it now.
Unsheathing his sword, he held it up high into the air as he unleashed the full power of his stand. A small explosion rocked the cliff as his stand emerged, twin violet swords already unfurling from its wrists. Its red eyes gleamed with battle rage.
"Kisentari dai'tan Yahweh!" he shouted in Ancient Gaean, the traditional warcry of Ichijouji. "An Caldazar jetan soldats!!"
For the glory of the Lord, be proud my soldiers!!
And even as he spoke, the small army of three hundred threw down their bows, drew their own swords, and prepared to do mortal battle. The time-honoured battle-cry brought light into everyone's eyes. There was no fear in the Prince's soldiers now. There was no time to fear, no time to think. There was only time to sense and react, to kill or be killed.
All or nothing. Ken would not have it any other way.
And as the Ichijoujans prepared to wage war, another piercing battle-cry sounded out above the melee. Ken saw Khaydarin soldiers turn in panic as a group of cloaked warriors waded into the fray, weapons flashing. Two brilliant pillars of light, one crimson red, one platinum gold, blazed in their midst.
The Taelidani had joined the fight.
**********
Takeru gritted his teeth as he swung into battle along with the others. This time, his sword was held properly, blade outwards. The first group of soldiers he encountered were utterly surprised. All of them were dead before they could draw breath to scream. The blond boy made his stand swing its staff lightly, droplets of blood dripping off the golden rod as he did the same with his own sword, before launching himself headlong deeper into the fray.
A screaming Khaydarin warrior rushed at him, spear extended to impale the blond boy. The steel spear-head shrieked as it whistled through the air, the soldier's black armour and golden serpent flashing in the reflected light of Takeru's stand.
But his expression turned to confusion, then panic as Takeru seemed to blur. To shift sideways, far faster than the human eye could follow. Frantically, the soldier looked around left and right, his spear held forward uncertainly. The blond boy had disappeared.
Then the soldier stiffened in shock. "I'm sorry," a young voice whispered behind him.
The thought of death did not have time to register in the man's mind. Takeru's razor-sharp katana whistled through the air three times, and neatly cut the man into four pieces in the blink of an eye. And before the bloody pieces had hit the ground, Takeru was already off, his sword-point seeking new targets.
He knew he would feel terrible later. If he survived, when he finally let his emotions go, the guilt would be more than he could bear. He was not a killer. He just happened to be very good at it. If it were not for Kari, always there to support him when his own strength faltered, he would have given in long ago. Unlike Davis, years of being steeped in blood did nothing to numb the horror of killing. For once Richard had been wrong. Takeru never did "get used to it". And he would rather kill himself before he ever did.
And then a flash of brilliant blue light exploded in front of him, burning at his eyes and searing at his face with its power. A hot blast of wind struck him like the draft from a roaring furnace.
Summoning all of his stand's strength, the blond boy changed directions abruptly, and hurled himself sideways as the ground behind him exploded into a rocketing fountain of flaming rock and flying dirt. Hitting the ground in a shoulder roll, Takeru flipped off one hand, and landed neatly on his feet.
What the hell was that?
He caught a glimpse of a masked man, calmly extending his hand towards him. Then a brief image of a wave of coruscating blue screamed towards him, and Takeru was off again, desperately dodging the blast. A savage war-cry ripped from his throat as he unleashed his own stand. Tenshi met the attack head-on, and both stands lost all semblance of form, grinding to a halt in mid-air as they sought to overcome each other.
"You!" Takeru screamed over the coruscating crackle of rippling energy between them. "I know you!"
All around the two of them, hostile and friendly soldiers alike backed away, making space for the battle to come. In recognition of the awesome conflict about to take place, the soldiers formed a waiting circle around the duo, Ichijoujans and Taelidani behind Takeru, Khaydarin behind the masked man. The melee abated slightly, though the battle continued to rage all across the lip of the cliff.
The masked man grinned, the brilliant blue light reflecting off the steel mask Takeru remembered so well. The one fleeting glimpse he had caught as he was speeding away on the wagon had been enough. The image of the man's face, mask and cloak had been burned into his mind.
"You've improved," Caylor said. Then his voice turned hard. "Crown Prince Takeru Ishida."
Then the blue light flared to blinding proportions as his stand vaporized. Geysers of stinging dust exploded out of the ground all around the duo, enveloping the air in an acrid cloud of thick grit. A thunderous concussion shattered rock all around the canyon. Streaking out of the cloud, the dark-clad man charged at Takeru with his katana extended, gripped tightly in his left hand.
In the surreal split second before contact, Takeru recognized his own Gatotsu technique coming straight at him. Desperately, he raised his blade and barely managed to parry, wrenching the stabbing sword off to one side. But to his surprise, the thrust reversed, the hilt coming up to strike him hard in the face. Steel shrieked as Caylor's blade slid along Takeru's own, locking at the hilt in a shower of sparks, and pushed it off to one side.
Then the enigmatic stand-master savagely drove his gloved fist into Takeru's stomach, and withdrew his sword quickly. And as the blond boy gasped in pain, the katana whipped around and slashed him quickly across the chest.
Reeling, Takeru staggered backwards, his own sword falling off to the side as he collapsed onto his knees. Without missing a beat, Caylor raised his sword, and lunged forwards for a final decapitating blow.
Clang.
The Praetor's eyes widened in surprise as he found his blade halted inches from Takeru's temple, blocked by a shimmering golden staff that had materialized out of nowhere. Then the blond boy raised his sword as well. As more of the angel-stand shimmered into view, Caylor leapt backwards, out of range of both the staff, and the sword.
"I never thought of using a stand in conjunction with my sword," he noted amusedly. "An interesting style of combat."
Takeru painfully levered himself to his feet with his sword. His free hand was wrapped around his chest as his clothes became more and more stained with blood from the slash wound. Coughing violently, he tasted his own blood in his mouth.
"Who…who are you," he wheezed painfully as he forced himself to look up.
Caylor tilted his head. "Who do you think I am?"
"I know you are the Khaydarin soldier who killed Vargas Takaishi," Takeru spat. "And destroyed my home village of Kurtal."
"I am," Caylor said quietly. "I won't hide that."
Takeru took a deep breath, trying to ignore the stabbing pains from his chest. "You killed hundreds of innocents, just to get at me. And now, you're going to do the same to several thousand just to get at Ken. Do you have no mercy? Do you have no compassion."
"Mercy and compassion has no place in a soldier," Caylor responded, as his stand slowly shimmered into view behind him. "You of all people should know that. The destiny and fate of this land belongs to those who can and are willing to take drastic, necessary action. I can see it your face, in the way you fight. You know that too."
"I will never be like you!" Takeru shouted. "Gaea rejected your ways as wrong five hundred years ago. And in time, we will do it again! I will never be like you!"
"Are you sure? Think very carefully, Takeru…"
It was not, by any stretch of the imagination, a question. The cold certainty in the Praetor's voice stopped Takeru dead in his tracks.
"The last time I saw you properly TK," the sudden familiarity in Caylor's voice startled him. "You were only a few months old. So small, so innocent. How you've grown…"
The Praetor's stand continued to solidify behind him. And for the first time, Takeru saw it properly. A blue wolf of coruscating lightning, savage, piercing eyes daring the blond boy to attack. Automatically, Takeru's eyes dropped to see the symbol burning on Caylor's chest. It looked oddly familiar…
A single rising meteor, blazing with light. Three brilliant tails of light streaking downwards…
Takeru suddenly felt cold. His mouth went dry. "That name 'TK'," he said slowly. "Nobody ever called me that except Kari and Richard. How did you know?"
Caylor grinned. "Why Takeru, didn't you know? I was the one who first gave it to you." He held up his right hand, and put it to the side of his steel mask. His fingers pushed a button, and with a slight click and hiss, the small clamps securing the mask in place gently released their grip on the Praetor's face.
Takeru stared as the Praetor pulled off his mask. The Khaydarin general was young, only slightly older than twenty. Platinum blond hair, slightly longer than Takeru's own, shimmered slightly in the slowly burning light of his stand, waving in the desert wind. Caylor's ice blue eyes seemed to pierce straight through Takeru. His arched eyebrows and thin lips hinted at a regal elegance, complimenting his fine-featured face.
Takeru felt like he was looking into a mirror. A strangely distorted one.
"My name is Praetor Caylor Ga'artred. Formerly known as Crown Prince Yamato of all Ishida.
"It's been a long time, ototo-chan."
**Author's notes:
Kiserati dai'tan Yahweh: Ancient Gaean, the language of the Council. Literally translated, it means "For the Glory of the Lord." A rallying warcry of sorts. "Yahweh" is an actual hebrew name for God. Ototo-chan: Actually, this is Japanese. ^_^ It means "little brother". I really don't think that needed explaining, but just in case…OK, be honest here. Who expected that? The thing with Matt? If it was me, I'd probably have had at least a sneaking suspicion in the back of my mind, 'cause I really did drop some hints (yes, I HAVE been planning this from the beginning, so don't accuse me of copying off Caspian please! "Age of Gods" came before "House of Wolves"). Besides, it's such an overdone concept! Only one person came close to guessing the "surprise twist" I hinted at last chapter, and that was Danel. Danel thought the twist had something to do with why Caylor had a stand, and that's the closest out of the lot of you. I'm surprised! ^_^
And no, I don't plan on making this a stereotypical "evil Matt" fic. (That's more up logan's alley. The guy hates Matt 'cause the character broke up Taiora. *shrugs* Go figure.) If you'll notice, Caylor has his honourable qualities.
What'd ya think?!