Ranma 1/2 was created by Rumiko Takahashi and its characters belong to her, and her alone. I'm just kinda borrowing them. A few others are mine. The story below is for entertainment purposes only, and not to be used commercially. ...Obviously.

"Learning Curve"

Part XXII (v1.3)

by: J. Wagner

1974

Soryn Pass

The clatter of hooves brought the men to attention, and many looked up at their liege lord with bloodshot eyes. Weariness aside, at the approach of his envoy, they stood to the last man, heads bowed. Behind the King rode the young Prince, and his two adult bodyguards, formerly the King's. Normally, the boy would have been given a new set of his own, but every able warrior was needed elsewhere.

Stopping his horse, the King dismounted, the hard cold ground giving an almost audible crunch at his landing. For a moment, he looked to the east, where signal fires burned in the distance. King Herb felt the horse's tension, despite his words, and ran a hand down its back. "Steady, Huansan. Steady."

The King was a tall man, even among the taller-than-normal Musk, and no sooner had he dismounted, than an overdressed female servant from his entourage ran to his side, struggling with a set of armor. On his own horse, the Prince shifted uncomfortably, but said nothing, watching instead as the heavy lead and iron armor, designed to defend against Ki attacks, identical to that of a common Musk soldier, was strapped onto his father, over the regal dragonscale, gold, and white of the Dynasty of the Dragon.

"King Herb, a pleasure to see you once again, my Lord," A man said as he approached the King, and gave a deep bow.

"Paso Li," King Herb returned as he inclined his head, both as a gesture of acknowledgement to speak, and to allow the dressing servant to take his long weave of white hair in hand, and out of the way, as his circlet helmet was fitted over the King's brow. The other man was a dark skinned fellow, compared to most other Musk. His face twitched as he spoke, and the nervousness in his hands and body gave him the appearance of perpetual being 'up to something,' as the young Prince would say. Paso Li, or Parsley, was of the Rat Blood line, and acted the part well. A warrior he was not, but he had a keener mind for strategic games than most Musk, who couldn't easily think nonlinearly. While Herb preferred his three Warmasters to inspire their troops from the front, it was not a prerequisite.

"My Lord, it pleases me to see you here, so soon, and in person," Parsley spoke softly, as always. "It will be a great boost in morale for the men, my Lord."

"Have you confirmed the presence of the Phoenix Demon himself? He is the reason I am here."

"Our scouts have reported that he personally marches at the head of fully a third of his entire Air Corp, freshly flown in from the south. Things have changed dramatically over the last two days with his arrival."

"So he is present, in the fire and in the flesh!" King Herb snorted, derisively. "I will counter his threat myself. What of the rest of his forces?"

"As you know, his conscript army broke apart into four main columns during the march here. I... We believe he may be dividing them into waves for the coming assault - perhaps as many as ten, not including his reserves. Most likely he will hold those back to guard his rear and support structures, as well as the base camp established to the northeast of Soryn Mountain, in case he needs to make a tactical withdrawal."

"And his other Air Corp?"

"Patrol and skirmishing, mostly. We believe it will be mainly harrying attacks to our north... we have already moved several additional contingents of auxiliary troops and archers to cover our northern flank."

"That concerns me," herb held out his left hand, and the dressing servant quickly started affixing a gauntlet to his left forearm bracer.

"My Lord? I should think that this would come as good news?"

"If Saffron is not deploying assault assets to the north, he surely means to smash his way through with conscripts. He would not risk so much, were he not confident of victory."

"I know your troubles, my Lord. But rest assured, my scouts have not reported the arrival of any Phoenix artillery in the region."

"And you do not find that odd, Paso Li?" For the first time Herb's tone bordered on the annoyed. "Saffron would not put forward an infantry assault, through the center and across Soryn Pass no less, unless he had his artillery."

"We saw none, Lord. Nor have we been under bombardment ourselves, though opportunity allowed it."

"What of the Lucky Gods? Where is King Lager?"

"Aboard his Airship, my Lord. To our southwest."

"In position?"

"Yes, my Lord..."

"And the Amazons?"

"They..." The weasel-like man stuttered for a moment. "They er... have not arrived on the field, as yet, my Lord."

"They are still marching from Athenon?" Herb tightened the strap on his right bracer, and dismissed the servant attending to him. His armor was affixed, and the servant would only be getting in the way from this point on.

"I do not know, my Lord. We have not received word from them in some time. I sent a pair of runners to check down the valley road, but they report there is no movement of troops through those passes."

"Those damn Amazons... late to everything."

This news Herb had not heard of, though the tone in his voice downplayed that fact. King Herb knew well of most of the soon to occur battle's layout and the forces involved already. He had been hoping to draw Saffron away from Soryn with himself as bait, but the Phoenix god had truly little care for vendettas over victories, and continued apace. It was why he had made from the skirmishing at Chalsun with such haste. Conversing with Paso Li now was a formality, to fill him in on anything he had missed on the trip to the battlefield. This news, that the Amazons were not present as expected, was a surprise indeed.

"Apparently, my Lord."

The sycophant hung around the Dragon King, perhaps worried that the offensive news had angered him, and nodded quickly. Herb largely ignored his behavior, and took a few experimental steps forward. The armor was heavy, a good seventy pounds by itself, but he was a large man, and physically stronger than most - King Herb was more concerned about freedom of movement, but that was only a concern in close combat. Besides, it wasn't the first time he'd worn it, and, barring good fortune, it wouldn't be the last. He quickly turned on the servant woman and bodyguards, and pointed at the Prince.

"Take him back to the rear line, out of mortar range," The King said, in a tone that brooked no argument. Herb looked quickly from his young son, to his men, down the long row of weary Musk warriors. There were his medium troops - armored as he was, and armed with an assortment of weaponry. The majority of them wielded swords for close ranges, and glaives for reach, all of superior Musk manufacture. These fearless men were the core of the Musk forces, both here and elsewhere - good, general-purpose warriors; the kind that traced their traditions of warfare back a dozen millennia.

It was no secret that the Musk, because of the gifts of their mixed heritage, and the intensity of their training, were the premier fighters in the region, indeed... they were, on average, the greatest in the world. They were feared by the Amazons, and respected by the Lucky Gods and innumerable other vassals and descendant organizations. At the height of Asian Musk power, at the end of the Seventh Dynasty, they had ruled nearly all the continent through the Khans, with whom they had made a pact in 1287 for the grand design of curbing Islamic power in the Near East and gaining revenge for the fall of the ancient Sertu Musk Dynasty in Egypt. Herubu the Second's Musk warriors, acting as Royal Guards, had marched as far as ancient Prag in the northwest, Java in the south, Nippon in the east and the Sinai in the southwest.

The current King passed his trooped in review, and saw a sea of Musk iron and steel back by History and Tradition, the living will of their rightful Dragon Lord. Though these Musk medium infantry were not as heavily armed or armored as the Assault troops King Herb passed earlier, and held in reserve, nor as light and fast as his scouts or auxiliary corps, they did not have to be. The enemy would come to them, and crash themselves to bits in the process.

That was how it had always been, since the Beginning.

Recently, however, things had changed. Passing by the assembled warriors, he noted a few bullet wounds - the result of a new weapon introduced in grand fashion just months earlier. Snipers, armed with heavy caliber rifles. They were perhaps the most dangerous troops in Saffron's army, and the Phoenix 'God' had been careful to groom and nurture his young Airborne Sniper Corp. Musk were nothing if not tough, however, and Herb reassessed his previous position. The wounds were, most likely, due to smaller rounds from Conscript machine pistols, or some such.

The...the name slipped his mind for the moment - it was a foreign weapon, however: one of many firearms to have fallen into the hands of Saffron's slave-warriors. Though unable to fight in close quarters, Saffron's peon army made up for that failing with sheer numbers and fanatical zeal. Under the influence of the surikami eggs, entire villages had been wiped out and conscripted to serve Saffron, their new God and King. These poor peasant men and women would charge into the face of death itself, happily throwing away their lives at the Will of Saffron.

King Herb nearly spat in disgust.

"How many attacks have the garrison thrown back, Paso Li? It was two, last I heard before leaving Chalsun."

"Two more light probing attacks earlier today, my Lord." The Rat Blood Musk rubbed his hands together as they walked and talked. "I cycled out many of those in the garrison, as you see have no doubt seen for yourself, after the third wave, and replaced them with fresh warriors shortly before I heard of your arrival."

"Hmm." Herb nodded, slowly. "Casualties?"

"Ours or theirs, my Lord?"

"Both," he replied, after a moment.

"Only three dead, my Lord. ...And thirty six wounded, from all four attacks," The shorter Musk adjusted the strap around his neck attached to his light armor as he talked. "We have counted one hundred and twelve enemy dead. The wounded would not be taken prisoner."

Not truly surprising. Individually, the average Musk was a formidable opponent, and in groups properly organized and trained as a unit, they were terrifying, but the Dynasty had always lacking somewhat in numbers. Even the relatively numerous medium troops were, under normal circumstances, not what anyone would consider 'expendable.' All Musk life was precious, but what did they live for, if not to fight, and in the end, to die? Surely, the enemy had no respect or care for its own life. Saffron's mindless slaves would gladly tear out their own tongues before questioning his orders.

"And their weapons?"

"Some rifles, pistols... numerous swords of dubious quality... why do you ask, my Lord?"

"Simple curiosity. Saffron has kept his forces well supplied, despite our best raiding efforts..." King Herb said, stopped, and looked out over Soryn Pass, from the slight ledge they were at. It was a deep chasm, a crack in the earth between mountains, straight drops down who knew how far. The only point where it could be passed was the great mortar less stone bridge that spanned the gorge. Built centuries ago by the Musk, it was also a small fortress on either end: a single tower blocking entry to those unknown or unwanted by the Musk in their domain. A series of steps, hewn out of the rock, led down to a flat area, and from there to the West Tower, where Herb could see warriors milling about the parapet, waiting for the attack they all knew would come.

Straining his neck, and looking around a steep cliffside to his left, the King could also just see the tip of the Fortress Airship of the Seven Lucky Gods. It was a truly impressive sight, more so when seen in full sails. It was simply an amazing construct: a ship, several hundred feet long, magically crafted and held together, and given flight by a similarly created balloon. It resembled a Chinese junk, overall, though the Lucky Gods had repainted it in shades of blue, to better mask it against the sky from below. Well armed, relatively, and very well armored, even the balloon part, the Airship would cement their southeast flank.

"For too long, we've been pulling back, and withdrawing, and retreating... by the gods... the real gods, we stop Saffron here, Paso Li. We give no more ground to this... perversion," The elder Herb hissed through clenched teeth, but kept his voice low. "There are over fifteen villages behind us. I won't have them fall to these Phoenix animals! I won't!"

"Scorched Earth, my Lord?"

"...If need be, yes. The men will carry it out loyally, if it comes to that."

"A sad thing, indeed... Schulzu, Anozou." Parsley stopped listing names of villages no longer found on the map.

"I won't put that idea in their heads unless absolutely necessary. Slaughter before capture is not a policy I want to be remembered for." Herb's sharp eyes picked up movement, to the east, almost like a moving cloud against the mountain background. "No. It won't come to that course of action, Paso Li. ...Ready the men. They will hold, or they will die, but they will not retreat with their tails between their legs like the beaten dogs Saffron believes us to be."

Beyond the range of his eyes, King Herb felt more than saw the approaching storm. Saffron himself was moving forward, not content here to simply watch the battle unfold, and only the Musk King, only the Dragons' blood, could counter the power of the monster. Only he could abate the momentum of the Phoenix Lord. It was both the dragon's duty, and his curse.

***

When Ukyou was a little girl, she had heard tales of Princes on white horses, carrying off their chosen loves to a life of wealth and marital bliss. She was beginning to suspect that the people who actually wrote that crap didn't know what they were talking about. Not one damn iota.

"This is a waste of time." Ukyou sighed.

"Come now, my woman... Court duties may be dull, but there will soon be enough battle to go around." Herb shifted a bit on his throne. He wasn't nearly as comfortable with administrative duties as his father, or his grandfather, had been. Musk Lords of the dragon blood were of two varieties, the patient judicators, and the hot-blooded warriors. Of the two, Prince Herb was the latter. His father, the Great King Herb, had somehow been both.

A great man in life, as well as in death.

"I told you not to call me that," Ukyou seemed about to continue, but decided to simply save her words for later. Herb was obviously relieved not to lose face further by arguing with her in his own Court.

"Let us move onto other business. What of our preparations for war, Borage?" Herb said as he leaned forward a bit. The throne was not nearly as comfortable as it seemed to be. Ukyou's was better - the 'Queen' of the Musk was a non-existent title. She was, supposedly, the first mate of the King. She technically had no power, no status, and no say in things, no rank even above other females, mated or unmated. Her only station came from him. Her 'throne,' which was more of a couch, was behind, below, and to the left of the King. It was not a place Herb wanted to ever find himself in, but at least it looked comfortable. Then again, at least he didn't have to stand like everyone else.

"They continue apace, my Lord." Borage was Herb's chief advisor, and the oldest living Musk. After the sacrifice of Herb the Fourth more than twenty years ago, Borage had assumed the Regency until the young Herb the Fifth was old enough to rule. The elderly Musk faced Sumac and another Musk, shorter and with a less confident air to him, as he continued to speak, "Do they not, Warmaster Sumac, Warmaster Clove?"

"I do have some fresh news both good and bad," Sumac answered for the two of them as he stepped forward towards the center of the circular hall. Of the two designated Warmasters for the future campaign, besides Herb himself, Sumac was the most bold and eager to voice his opinions. "Our forges, smiths and scribes have been working nearly without pause to fully ready our forces. Problems over actual manpower numbers remain a great concern... we have not the numbers we did during the last great campaign. As such, it has been a primary goal to outfit our warriors with the finest equipment, and while our surplus from years past more than covers our needs on paper, in practice it has proven more difficult. Organization of logistics is also a concern..."

"This is preposterous!" Another Musk from the opposite end of the hall interrupted, "An insult! All this concern over... food, over horse feed! Our warriors are the finest on earth, their hearts filled with zeal and honor to defend our Ways and our Arts!"

"Logistics remains a concern," Sumac continued, ignoring the outburst. "We have begun to improve on the situation, due to the aid of the Jyusenkyou Preservation Society... and a slow but steady influx of Togekyou troops has helped bolster the situation in regards to our numbers, but overall, things are behind schedule."

"Behind schedule? Things were on track two days ago, when last we spoke of this, Sumac. Borage, I was not fully aware of this... why?" Herb growled, letting his disdain be obvious. Ukyou knew Herb had involved himself in the minutiae of things, and even enjoyed it somewhat, but very recently he had taken time off to meditate and court his 'mate,' much to her chagrin. Apparently he was paying for it, now.

"We did not wish to lay the burden of such trivial things on your shoulders, Lord Herb. It is, regardless, a minor matter, one which was to be resolved later today." Sumac gave a short, flowing bow and differed slightly to the shorter Musk, Clove, in an obvious effort to divide the Dragon Lord's censure more equally. His long ponytail draped over his right shoulder, the handsome confident Musk looked far removed from his younger brother, Mint.

"Trivial or not, it resides within my domain. ... Borage?" Herb frowned, deeply.

"My apologies as well." The ancient minister gave a less showy, but more honest, bow, as he apologized. "The situation was primarily due to increased patrols following extended routes... around the Jyusenkyou area, into the Valley... beyond where we normally go."

"We dare not cut the numbers of men we send on each patrol, my Lord," The shorter Musk accompanying Sumac spoke up, quickly, "Nor the numbers of patrols themselves."

Sumac gave a soft laugh. "Patrols in force will only further alarm the Joketsuzoku. As it is, I have no doubt that they suspect our involvement in something major. Our Intelligence reports, as do those of the Society, substantiate a mobilization on their part. Possibly part of a simple retraining, in which case I am simple being alarmist, or it could even be in preparation for one of their outlandish coven ceremonies... their motives are unknown to me, for one. I would, however, be more comfortable assuming the worst - that they are preparing for us."

"I see," herb said, slowly. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the hard stone of his throne.

"The good news, Sumac, if you would. This Court has heard enough of the former," Borage's deep voice rumbled in the hall. The old man made it no secret that he and Sumac disagreed on a great many topics. The younger Musk was far more radical in his thinking than most.

"As you wish, Honored Minister." Sumac cleared his throat. "As I said, our... noncombatant elements have been working feverishly, and unit training and exercises have entered stage three. The Togenkyou regular units we are keeping segregated, at the moment, while they work up to par... additionally, great progress has been made in moving normal Musk noncombatants to the war units, and supplementing their former activities with non-Musk labor. This labor has come from both Togenkyou, the Society, and from a few neighboring villages, following the protocols you yourself put down, my Prince."

"Go on," herb prompted, not wooed by Sumac's words.

"Fortress and emplacement reinforcement and defenses are at their final stages, ahead of our timetable... and outfitting of predicted forces is nearly complete. Our heavy assault divisions will be ready for full action and deployment within twelve days. Standard divisions will be ready in six, Light divisions in seven, and Auxiliaries in nine. The status of our Lucky God allies is also pleasant news... retrofitting of their airship was completed earlier today. Bishamonten reports that it should be more than capable of delivering, supporting, and commanding an entire Standard division of warriors by itself, with minimal logistics support. He is of the opinion that the ship could even support Two divisions into the field of battle, if pressed, though only for one third of the time."

"Roughly following the Timetable." Borage tapped his staff onto the marble floor. "Is there more, Sumac, or are you finished? Much of this is bordering on what we already know."

"Er... no." He took a step back. "That is all if importance, Prince Herb. Minister Borage. Despite some setbacks, we shall be ready to move when needed. Our blades will be sharp, our armor strong, and our warriors ready."

"I should hope so." Herb dismissed him with a quick nod. "Lastly, let me hear from ...Pantyhose. I wish to hear from my dear little brother, now that he is so well rested from his arduous quest overseas. Perhaps he can confirm some of Sumac's statements in regards to the Amazons from his vast pool of knowledge...?"

"Little brother?" Ukyou asked, but kept her voice low. A tall Musk stepped forward. He had loose pants, dragonscale vest type outfit on, similar to Herb's, but obviously more worn, and less ornate, without shoulder pads or the like. He had delicate features similar to the Dragon Prince, as well. Though the scar on his face seemed very out of place. As he walked, and bowed, very shallowly, he started talking about Japan and Musk interests and Intelligence on the surrounding area.

"With all due respect, my liege." Taro sneered just slightly at the word, shortly after moving from Musk interest in Japan to the Amazon situation. "You... We have not been as subtle as we should have been in organizing things so quickly. The word among the Joketsuzoku is that they were tipped off some time ago, most likely by the appearance of the Lucky Gods airship in a region so far from Nekonron."

Herb scoffed softly. "Then their preparedness is still not up to par."

"Nooo," Taro drawled, "No, it isn't... but it will be. Some time ago, their Matriarch and head of the Council of Joketsuzoku Elders returned. Shortly afterward, my ...male contacts within the village were herded into Containment Posts, and contact was lost with my sources. It is my conclusion that the Amazons are at a high state of alert... a sort of collective PMS, if you will. Given time, Joketsuzoku will properly fortify."

Herb rubbed his index finger and thumb together in slow circles.

"My Lord?" Taro asked, again, more irritated.

"Let them fortify," herb repeated, louder this time.

"Let them fortify, Lord?" Borage said, unsure.

"Let them fortify. The Joketsuzoku have always been a craven, insular bunch... they will not stick their necks out for anyone around them, nor will they truly act against anyone unless it directly threatens them. Time is on our side, not theirs."

"You don't understand, my..."

"Be silent, Pantyhose," herb spoke, and his lips curled into a shallow smile as Taro fumed silently. "They are cowards, and shall act as such. All you need do is verify that fact for me."

"But..."

Herb leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slowly.

"Of course." Taro composed himself and gave a quick bow. "They aren't a concern to us yet."

"A wise man lets the fly land, before he swats it." Herb leaned back again, and the room calmed notably. "Pantyhose, you need only concern yourself over the location of certain artifacts, and outside intelligence in respect to Amazon movements. Tell me of what they do, when they do it, but do not color your analysis of them with... personal bias."

There was a short bout of laughter from more than a few Musk present.

Taro backed down, glowering at the ground fiercely. "I wouldn't think of it, my Liege."

"Good." Herb clapped his hands together and stood up, signaling an end to the Court session. "Good... the Court may disperse. Borage. Make the appropriate adjustments to the agreed upon schedule, and forward them to the Lucky Gods at your convenience. Tell Bishamonten that I will wish to speak to him later today, as well, regarding our Togenkyou allies."

"Yes, Lord Herb." Borage gave a differential bow to the dragon prince, and a curt nod to Ukyou, who was stretching after also standing up. As she did so, more than a few Musk, all of them at least several years her senior, curtly looked away. Herb just stared. It was something she was almost used to, at this point. Next to her, Mint hastily looked away, hiding a fierce blush, instead focusing on the armband he now wore, and its crest, symbolizing his official adjustment of activities from Herb's bodyguard, to Ukyou's. He still had mixed feeling about the assignment, and whether it was a good thing or a bad thing...

Then again, Lime had been transferred to the Heavy Assault division. He had a high-ranking position there, but he too had technically lost status when Herb dismissed the need for personal bodyguards. Looking back at his charge, he saw Ukyou give him a quick smile and a pat on the back.

"Not particularly fun, huh?" She asked, frankly.

"Umm... nope," Mint answered in fairly good Japanese, despite being more than a little nervous. His heart always got a bit jumpy when she acknowledged his presence. Nervousness with women, he figured, but it wasn't unreasonable given that he hadn't even seen one until less than a month ago.

"What was with Herb and that other guy... his brother?"

She also noticed that this 'brother' of Herb's that she had never heard of before was sort of familiar, in a way. More than the simple arrogance Herb generally exhibited, this Musk seemed to just be cockier - the sort of attitude that was unwarranted, coming from anyone who served another man. He reminded her of Ranma, in more than a few ways. Off hand, she wondered what kind of sparks would fly if the two ever met. The passing resemblance had caught her attention.

"Half brother," Mint corrected, quick to defend his liege. "And it is not really my place to say."

"You could ask me yourself," herb cut in. Mint backed off a bit, giving the two of them room.

"And you could stop calling me 'my woman,'" Ukyou addressed the dragon prince with a disrespectful tone. At the least, it was disrespectful compared to the way people usually addressed him.

"But you ARE my woman!"

"You're such a jerk, you know that?" Ukyou made a quick swing at him, but Herb saw it coming, and caught her hand easily. Examining the small fist in his palm, he looked at her without any hint of reprimand. Leaning in, he said something softly, and Ukyou calmed a bit. Mint had to fight to keep from trying to listen in.

"It just annoys me... you know?" She said softly, responding to something Mint hadn't caught.

"I know. But it's expected. I must keep form." Herb's eyes looked to his right, and caught Mint standing at attention. "Mint, you may take a break. Get some practice in. Find something to do. I will take my mate to the gardens for a brief talk, and escort her back to the women's dormitory."

"But my duty..."

"Your duty is to follow the will of your Lord and King, is it not?"

"Yes, my Lord," Mint said and stood at attention. "I will return to my duty in... some hours."

"That would be fine." Herb's voice was firm, and Mint gave Ukyou a quick questioning look without even thinking.

"I can fend off this jackass for an hour or so," Ukyou said, confidently, though none-too seriously, and Mint hastily left. She'd grown used to the younger boy being around her over the last two weeks. He was usually very quiet, kind of shy, but eager to please both her, and Prince Herb. When she'd heard about it, and given what she knew about Musk society, she'd thought he'd be bitter about the assignment, but if Mint was, she sure hadn't seen any evidence of it.

Herb's expression softened slightly when no one was around, and he moved in a little closer to her as they walked out of the hall in silence. She was fairly comfortable with some level of closeness between them - Herb was, by and large, a gentleman when no one else was around, though he still had a bad habit of staring at her chest. But nice as he could be in private, or on the walks they went on together, or even when he secretly trained her to better use her Ki, he was still a jerk in public. He'd never said as much, but she knew he had a difficult time following in his father's footsteps, and living up to the man's image.

She wasn't sure, however, whether everyone thought that, or just Herb.

"So... I didn't know you had a brother," she began, trying to make conversation, as the light from outside hit them, and they entered the Courtyard.

"I don't."

"What do you mean, you don't? What about that guy...?"

"Pantyhose is not my brother." Herb shook his head, but seemed to smile at the name. "My father took a mistress some time ago. An Amazon mistress, during the war with Saffron... the Dragon blood flows weakly in Pantyhose's veins. He is a half Musk... a bastard child, full of himself, unworthy of the Musk Throne."

"If you don't like him so much, why have him around?"

"To please others," herb growled, any sort of humor gone from his features. "Sumac seems to have an interest in his fighting ability... Borage believes it is improper and against Tradition to exclude him entirely if he has the blood of our line, and quite correctly so, I suppose... mostly I suffer his presence because he spends more time outside these walls than anyone else. He has information and ways of getting information independent of the Jyusenkyou Society, who, being non-natives, I do not entirely trust."

"But you trust him?"

"No." Herb shrugged. "Not really... he is Musk, however. His loyalties lie with his sovereign, as it is always so. I don't like him, and I have no doubt that he is jealous of my power and status, but he would not defy me."

Ukyou gave a questioning look.

"No one would dare betray me... and betray our thousands of years of tradition. The very notion is foolish." Herb crossed his arms furiously, and the two made their way down a flight of marble steps to the lowest terrace in the Courtyard, reserved for a large garden. The place was strangely humid and warm, given their altitude and location. Many of the flowers looked quite exotic, different from the plain looking bushes and scrubs common in the area.

"He's also half Amazon?"

Herb scowled at that, and Ukyou didn't probe any further. She knew Herb had personal problems with what passed for his 'family,' that he alone had to deal with them. He had no mother, from what she had heard from Borage, and the young Herb was raised by his father and by his tutors before he took the throne. His age was a shock too, given that he didn't look over thirty at all.

"Those... those damn Amazons..." Herb finally said, "Why must they hassle me so?"

"Herb... maybe..."

"I am not calling off the attacks, Ukyou-san," he said as he sat down on a small bench. "Things have gone too far to call off. And it's for the best. You have no idea what the Joketsuzoku and Phoenix are capable of."

"I've heard." She sat down next to him, a bit nervously. "I've heard stories, but maybe attacking them isn't the answer..."

"If we wait, and if we do nothing... the Musk will be overwhelmed. My father ruled the Eleventh Dynasty at the height of our power, bolstered by Musk from the fallen Tribes... in Egypt, and the Americas." Herb sighed. "He had heard tales of terrible wars fought around the world, and he balked at getting involved in one of his own. By the time he finally moved against Saffron, the war cost us terribly... I won't make the same mistake! I won't!"

"But you haven't even tried talking to the Phoenix..."

"I have heard, and seen, all I need to know of them and their ways! Their plans to mature Saffron early... it can only be a prelude to war."

"Still... to hear Borage speak of it, that Saffron may not be this Saffron..."

"My mind is set, Ukyou-san... as are those of my people and my allies. Borage cannot sway me. No one, not even you, can sway me against what must be done. Though... I did... I do want to ask you... talk to you about something else." He blushed.

"No."

"But I haven't even said it!"

"I know what you're going to say." She looked away, hiding her own slightly flushed face. "The answer is no."

Herb grumbled something and looked at his feet.

"You really do have a one track mind, don't you?" She gave him a very fast look. "It's like every other day..."

"But I need to! The line needs to go on, even if..."

"Look, I haven't even been to college yet, and we're not anything close to being married! There's no way I'm... I'm... you know!" Ukyou didn't even mention that she had two more years of education before she could apply for an athletic scholarship. Once out of Furinkan, she'd have her choice of universities. Lately, she'd been considering business, or even marketing. Something to really help improve the family trade and bring in some substantial money.

"Why? You'll never find another mate as strong, or powerful, or with so great a bloodline as I!"

"That's all you Musk think about! Ukyou fumed, and looked him in the eyes. "Sex and fighting!"

"...So?"

"What do you mean, 'So?' So what about the rest of the world? So what about getting a job? What about finding someone you love?"

"Unimportant, unnecessary, and superfluous." Herb ticked the three off on his fingers. "Musk do not concern themselves with such things. I... I like you a lot, Ukyou-san. You are a beautiful, strong, intelligent woman, of fine Blood and Spirit. But Musk do not 'love.'"

Ukyou felt like clobbering him but controlled herself. The Musk culture was several worlds removed from the rest of humanity. They'd had this conversation or something like it, a dozen times already. Weird it was, but it worked for them, and it wasn't like she was planning on actually staying at his 'mate,' anyway. On that topic, she pressed forward.

"When can I go home, Herb?"

He tensed up instantly.

"I... you may leave when... er..."

"When you knock me up?"

"No!" He blurted out, thoroughly shocked by the very notion. "Not at all!"

"When I reject you for the hundredth time?"

"Listen...!"

"Herb," she said again. "I should be back in Japan by now. This place is very nice, and despite being a strange guy, you're not that bad... but I miss my friend... friends, and my restaurant, and school and lots of other things. I'm worried about Mousse, and I just need to get back home."

"But... Very well." He stiffened chin up. "If you still persist, when this situation here is over, you may leave if you so wish. At present, however, we have no one to spare escorting you to a city, and I would not wish you leave on your own."

"I am a martial artist. I can take care of myself, you know," Ukyou snapped at him. That sounded familiar...

"You can, yes... but I would not wish to see you harmed. Whether you think the same of me, you are my mate, and I take that seriously."

"Good enough, I guess." She stood up, and offered him her hand. "Let's get out of here. You can help me with my Ki attack. I want to have it ready by the time we set off for Phoenix Mountain."

"We?" Herb asked, a lack of understanding passing across his features, and took her hand as he stood up.

"We. I'm going too. You'll need someone watching your back while everyone goes gung ho, and charges off to die good honorable Musk deaths."

"Women don't fight along Musk warriors... it is against Tradition..."

"Well, there's a first time for everything. Besides, you said you were short on *man*power, right?"

Herb, Lord of the Musk, sighed in defeat.

"I suppose," he said, acquiescing, but at least he wasn't frowning anymore. "You know I would never let anything happen to you."

"Relax a little." She smiled up at him warmly. "Let me tell you about this guy I used to fight called Saotome Ranma..."

***

The background noise of insects and animals disappeared as a strange sort of birdcall warbled off in the distance. But apparently, there was no immediate danger, or it was only fleeting, and a minute later the nighttime sounds and activity resumed its normal choir. Changing position against her chosen tree trunk, Shampoo eased her aching back muscles against the hardwood. Even for a hardened Amazon warrior, however, it was far from being remotely comfortable. Silently, she wished that she'd never returned to China.

"There's no need for you to stay awake." Another girl, one of two taken along with her, Shampoo didn't quite recognize which one, leaned over to check on her. "We'll stand watch, over."

"Thanks," Shampoo said shortly. "But if it's all the same to you, I'll stick with what I'm doing here."

The girl was silent for a moment.

"You still don't trust us, do you, over?"

Actually, she hadn't thought that much of it one way or another.

"Tso Pu trusts you," she said. "That's enough."

The other girl shrugged, and walked off to join her sister. Their names were Cherry and Chain, but, being identical twins, Shampoo simply couldn't tell one from the other. They were girls from one of the neighboring villages under Joketsuzoku protection and oversight. Normally, the villages only provided labor and food to support the Amazons, but occasionally they provided choice males and even promising girl-children to be raised by the whole Village and the Elders. Cherry and Chain weren't Amazons, but they had been trained by them, and Soap had highly recommended her sister take them as backup when they finally ran into Mousse.

Tso Pu also warned Shampoo not to hold back when they found him.

It was hard, hearing everything that had happened, and the words of the Elders, condemning Mousse to exile and death for working with the Musk. Even now, even with the sanction of the Elders, it was hard to believe Mousse would have, or could have, betrayed them. He had always been somewhat rebellious and unorthodox, certainly, but a danger to the tribe, and a collaborator with the Musk? To someone who knew him as long as she did, it seemed impossible.

She and Mousse had been drifting apart for weeks, ever since he and Ukyou seemed to 'hook up' in some sort of arrangement, if not a relationship. Around that time the whole situation with Ranma had fizzled out when she managed to get a few honest dates out with him, after bribing him with Cologne's training, which he needed to catch up with his rival. Honestly, she had expected Mousse to come back in force after that, more determined than ever, once it became obvious that Ranma wasn't interested in her that way. Instead, he had faded into the background and gotten involved in other things.

It didn't make sense.

At first, Shampoo had blamed Ukyou. The Japanese girl had gone missing, and Cologne offered the explanation that perhaps she had been captured or talked into joining up with the Musk, and then taken Mousse along with her. Still, Shampoo liked to think that she knew Ukyou fairly well, given that she was her rival, and Ukyou never struck her as politically inclined enough to take sides so far from home. Which left her... no one knew where, and Mousse a simple traitor.

Maybe all those years of rejection... and abuse...

Was it her fault?

And was the entire Tribe about to pay for it?

At least she didn't have to worry about fulfilling either the Kiss of death, or the Kiss of Marriage. The Village was on a high state of alert when she arrived, and the Council of Elders quickly decided to put a halt to unnecessary acts that would detract from the defense of the village, and suspended numerous blocks of the Amazon Code of Laws. The First to go where the Kiss of death and Kiss of Marriage Laws - it was a sensible course of action when fighting an army of male Musk, and risking fighting with outsider female fighters from other areas.

So her obligation to 'deal' with Saotome Ranma was, at least for the moment, no longer something she needed concern herself with. Which was, unquestionably, a good thing. She had been feeling steadily less comfortable with the short-term concept of degrading herself to get this man as her groom, and with Japan in general. What was the point of deceiving him by being and acting like someone you weren't? It could have worked well enough if the simple goal were for her to have his child, but it wouldn't keep him in the tribe for any extended amount of time. Shampoo knew that she certainly couldn't keep the charade going for anything more than a year or so without losing her mind. It was grating on her, and had been for over a year, trying to conform to what men supposedly wanted her to be, in their twisted little society.

What was there to say of it?

She hated men.

She didn't hate men like Tendo Akane allegedly hated the male gender, obviously. Shampoo had no doubts why they were there, and to do what - her Amazon education had been nothing if not frank and straightforward on that subject. Nor was she a lesbian. Though many Amazons had leanings in that direction, particularly those in the Sisterhood of Arms, or the Sisterhood of Shields, or any of the other 'secret' mini-cults that influenced Amazon affairs at any one time, Shampoo was not one of them. She just hated men.

Or, to be more exact, she didn't think very highly of them.

They were a craven, cowardly lot. Amazon males had no backbone, except Mousse, and he was too stubborn and bullheaded to be anything except brain damaged in some way. Males banded together in predictable groups, to do predictable things, and thought with their lower regions. They were scavengers, or would be scavengers, if the situation presented itself. Outsider males were nearly as bad as Amazon ones. They came from a world where they dominate, and where their values are the highest writ. The sanctimoniousness of them, and the looks... the leering they gave her in Japan, and even in most of China, aggravated her no end.

Ryouga had been the first one worth a damn to her. Ranma had lied to her, tricked her, and gotten her out of his hair soon after they met, with no regard to her situation at the time. When Ranma had done the whole 'I'm actually female' thing, and Shampoo had switched back to fulfilling the Kiss of Death, she'd found herself unable to go through with killing him. She found herself not hating this man, and now, this woman, and she'd ran from it, back home to the Joketsuzoku. Only later did she realize she'd been conned.

Ryouga, though, was honest. He was honest and straightforward about how he felt about people and things - Shampoo had to respect that. He was also strong and skilled in the Art, and yet not overbearing or abusive of it. If anything, he was too humble, preferring to give the impression of somewhat lost and pathetic normalcy. He wasn't as dodgy or full of himself as Ranma, or as clingy and needy as Mousse was of her. They had become friends. Of course, she had the notion that more would or could come from it than that, then things had started to occur between him and the middle Tendo girl, and Shampoo couldn't find anything in her wanting to ruin it for him.

She decided it must have been friendship.

She wanted him to be happy, even if it was with someone she didn't particularly care for. It was an odd feeling. Shampoo really hadn't had many... or even any, friends when she was young. There had been her older sister, of course. Soap was good to her, supportive, and she had always been there when she needed to talk. She was a good sister, really, but not exactly very warm and caring, as Shampoo had seen other sisters (real sisters) be to each other. Soap had disliked the abuse of their authority over males, and Shampoo knew, secretly jealous of her younger sister's training under the Matriarch Cologne. Shampoo had simply been gifted with a better body - faster, stronger, tougher... Soap had never said anything of it, but Shampoo suspected.

Her father was male - enough said on that. The rest of the village was almost secondary. She had trained with many other girls over the years, and alienated many more with her status over them in the village. She was hardly the 'Beloved Amazon' Soap had somehow become. But she was the best, and in the long run, that was enough. If need be, she could and would stand alone, a pillar of Amazon pride and heritage, on her strength and prowess alone.

Near the campfire, Cherry and Chain were talking softly, almost conspiratorially, between themselves. The two girls were the epitome of identical twins, and nearly impossible to tell apart. To make matters worse, the dressed alike! They were like adult versions of LinLin and RanRan, though much more somber and a lot less hyper, and they had a weird way of talking. They also seemed to be herbalists or something similar, not straightforward warriors. It struck Shampoo as slightly odd that Soap would recommend them to go along, instead of another warrior or two, but she supposed it was unlikely many females would fare well against Mousse anyway.

It was a surprisingly frank evaluation of him - missing the usual bluster associated with even the premise of an Amazon male that could fight. At least Cherry and Chain, whichever was which, could heal her up if Mousse fought back when they found him. It was hard to predict how he'd act, or what'd he do next, cornered and on the run as he was, now. Besides, there was also the very real chance of encountering a Musk patrol.

"Where are you two from, anyway?" Shampoo asked, raising her voice enough for the twins to hear. She hadn't really talked much to them, and she wasn't really a team person, but it wouldn't hurt to have some background information. In her experience, most associations weren't worth the effort of starting them up in the first place.

"Yao..." One of them blurted out, earning a quick angry look from the other.

"Yaocaicun...?" Shampoo scratched her chin in thought.

"Yaosin, actually, over." The other girl, the more aggressive of the two, corrected her sister.

"Yaosin," Shampoo said back. "I've never heard of it."

"Very small village... not on any maps, over." The girl, Shampoo guessed was Cherry, have a broad grin.

"Whatever."

Shampoo rolled her eyes, and went back to reclining against the tree. It was late, and she had much less patience for listening to the two girls' quirky way of talking than most. As long as they didn't get in her way, or get taken hostage, or anything else stupid, she couldn't care less. She'd been ordered by the Elders to find and neutralize the traitor that had turned against them, regardless of his reasons for doing it, and personal feelings aside, Shampoo was not one to shirk her responsibility towards the tribe.

Mousse was as good as dead.