By: TK Takaishi
**May 21st , A.S. 522. Seven hours later**
Praetor Locke looked around. He had drifted off to sleep in his own familiar tent with the silver pendant strung around his neck. He had woken up in an unfamiliar, small stone chamber.
No matter how many times it happened, Locke could never quite get used to it. The blackness that descended from the edges of his vision. The darkness and flickers of his soldiers' spirits around him. The heart-wrenching rush. The speeding tunnel of streaked starlight. It seemed slightly different every time.
He leaned on the back of a nearby wooden chair to steady himself as he waited for the faint vertigo to pass. As he did, he marveled once again at how real the illusion was. The rough grain of the wood felt as real to him as the fabric of his tent. The faint tang of burning firewood in the cold, still air was as convincing as the faintly musty scent of his own mask. As he passed his fingers over the table before him, even the splinters that scratched and bit at his palm felt as painful as real life. He spread his palm and watched as the tendons and muscles in his hand flexed beneath the skin. Every sensation was clean and crisp. It was so real that his senses insisted that this was reality.
Except that it could not be, because he was not in his tent anymore.
The room was a simple affair. A rough, undecorated wooden table dominated the middle of the room, along with two chairs on opposite sides of the room. The walls were made of plain, undressed stone streaked with glittering black, as if the architect could not be bothered to smooth it down completely. A large fire that seemed to give off no heat burned in an alcove off to the side, casting a pale orange glow on the cold, bare stone walls. Above him, the uncovered wooden rafters cast flickering shadows against the tiled roof as the fire flared in the hearth. And that was it. There were no windows or decorations, no paintings or suits of armour, not even a rug, nothing to relieve the dungeon-like quality of the room.
How very typical of Emperor Tichon.
"We have a problem, Praetor Locke"
"My Lord?" Locke said as he gazed cautiously upon the figure sitting across the table. In the Perenic plane, Tichon looked even less human. Despite the darkness of the room, the Emperor had still chosen to shroud himself in his dark cloak and hood. From what Locke could see of his master's face, Tichon's cadaverously pale face was positively gaunt now, and his black hair was dull and matted. The lines that ran across his face seemed deeper, darker and more tightly drawn, as if the flesh that had been stretched across his skull had the consistency of fine, transparent parchment. Yet Tichon's eyes glowed brighter than ever. The red glow flashed almost incessantly now. It seemed to Locke that whenever he looked into them, he saw the man's eyes burning with the mounting rage that had become part of Tichon. And whenever the Emperor grinned or spoke, Locke spied rows of gleaming, snow-white teeth. Was it just his imagination, or were they sharper than they should be?
"My spies have told me of a surprising development," Tichon said. "Apparently, the stand-masters are planning a peace conference. All the major kingdoms are to be invited to discuss the possibility of an alliance against us, just as it was done five hundred years ago."
Locke feigned an expression of stunned surprise. "But…but that…."
"That would mean the end of our plans to conquer Gaea," Tichon hissed. "Yes, I know."
Locke looked up and nodded grimly. "What must be done, my Lord?"
"You don't have to do anything," Tichon said as he leveled his burning gaze on Locke. "For the moment, I have others working on finding out more information. We know that it will take place on July 21st. But as of yet, they have been unable to tell me where it will happen."
Locke remained silent as Tichon hissed in anger. The Emperor was in a foul mood. It was best to let him tell talk himself out of his mood.
"In your opinion, Praetor Locke," Tichon said suddenly, "do you think Praetor Caylor knows of this conference?"
Locke tilted his head as he pretended to consider the question carefully. Would he?
"Yes," he said firmly as he nodded. "He would know. Praetor Caylor is a man that likes to stay connected to what is happening around him. He'll have found out about this conference somehow, whether it be through his old network of informal spies, or simply through gossip on the streets and throughout the land. He would find out one way or another."
"You, Praetor, know him best," Tichon prompted. "What do you think would be his reaction?"
"With all due respect, my Lord, if I have learned anything about Caylor during my time under him, it is to never try to predict his actions. Somehow, the man always finds a way to surprise those around him."
"I am not asking for his specific actions, Praetor," Tichon said, his eyes narrowing. "I am asking for his reaction. What would his thoughts be? What would be his goals? Which way would he head?"
Locke felt a brief, warning tingle in his back as he considered his answer. He would have to tread carefully now. Unconsciously, he adopted the bland, respectful tone of a student presenting his answer to the professor. "This conference," he said carefully, "would be the single most important event that has happened thus far in the course of the war. On July 21st, all the nations of Gaea will be forced to choose a side. They could choose to be for us by being neutral, or they could choose to be against us by fighting. Either way, events are going to move very fast after that conference. And Caylor knows that."
"Agreed. Continue."
"Caylor is a man that cannot stand to remain on the sidelines," Locke said, thinking furiously as he spoke. "Once he has something to fight for, he will fight to the death for it. And he knows that if he is to have any role in directing the course of history of this land, he must act before or during the conference. He must be feeling that he is running out of time to find the truth he desires."
He looked up. "Caylor is going to do something decisive. Soon. Perhaps he is already doing something."
Tichon stared at Locke for a long moment. "That is very interesting, Praetor," the Emperor said at length. "Because your thoughts are exactly the same as mine.
Locke allowed himself to heave a cautious sigh of relief.
"A man with Caylor's strength and intelligence, walking free around Gaea, and feeling under pressure to do something decisive," the Emperor continued. "Praetor, would you agree with me that this is a…how shall I put it…highly volatile situation?"
Locke refused to look away from those red eyes. He refused. "My Lord, I assure you that every effort is being made to find Caylor."
"But, Praetor," Tichon said as he drilled Locke with a sharp glance. "It is evidently no longer enough to find Caylor. You must find him before the conference, and that only gives you a little less than a month. How close are you?"
"I will find him," Locke said firmly. "No matter where he is in Gaea."
Tichon stared at Locke for a moment longer. Then he sat back in his throne.
"Praetor," he said in a deceptively light voice, "my spies tell me that you are, in fact, not inquiring after Yamato Ishida, but one Takeru Ishida. May I ask why?"
The hint of cold suspicion in the Emperor's voice was not lost on Locke. A drop of cold sweat ran down his spine. As it turned out, he was no longer simply walking on thin ice. He had stepped out onto a tight-rope. A tight-rope made of glass.
Locke said nothing for a long moment. His expressionless gray eyes betrayed none of his thoughts as he swiftly considered his options. Praetor Caylor had always been good at masking his thoughts, and choosing his options at a moment's notice, and over the years Locke had come to learn about it as well. It was not only a useful trait, it was a survival trait for a Praetor.
In the end, Locke decided to tell the truth.
At least, a limited version of the truth.
"With all due respect, my Lord," he began cautiously, "it would be impossible to find Praetor Caylor, a lone man lost somewhere in the depths of Gaea. He would surely be wise enough to keep his abilities to himself and to maintain a low profile. His face is not recognizable to the public, owing to the fact that he wore a mask during his time as Praetor. However, Takeru Ishida is a high-profile figure. People will know if he passes by their homes and villages, and that makes him much easier to find."
"This makes the search for Praetor Caylor easier…how?"
"It is my belief that Yamato would be drawn to Takeru of his own accord," Locke said, forcing a note of confidence into his voice. "I worked closely with the man for a year, my Lord, and I know how important the truth is to him. If he has not already, he would be trying to contact Takeru. To confront the only man that defeated him, and demand to know…why? If we find Takeru and follow him, then it would be easier to find Yamato."
"Takeru has hidden himself in Ishida," Tichon said, his eyes narrowing. "My spies have searched for years, and have been unable to find him. What makes you think you can do better?"
"I have my sources, my Lord," Locke said, smiling grimly. "And I believe I stand more of a chance finding Takeru than Yamato."
"And what will you do when you find the Praetor?" The Emperor's voice was like a razor-thin blade of ice now.
Locke took a deep breath, and his face settled into the hard planes and edges that Praetor Caylor had termed the commander's mask. A completely expressionless, stony face that betrayed even less to watchful eyes than the metal mask that was his badge of office.
"I will apprehend him," Locke said, "then I will attempt to convince him to return to Khaydarin. If he does not, I will kill him."
The Emperor's red eyes narrowed in suspicion. Locke watched him, his commander's mask betraying none of the apprehension that he felt. Tichon knew that he had once served under Caylor. Tichon also knew that Locke was quite possibly the most capable and competent of his Praetors. Yes, the two facts combined did mean he was probably the only person in the entire kingdom that could track down the elusive Praetor, but that also meant…
Surely Tichon suspected. Surely he was just about to-
"Make certain that you do, Praetor," the Emperor finally said as he his hand. "Appraise me of any further developments when we meet again in two days."
"Two days?" Locke said as his brow creased into a frown.
"Two days, Praetor," the Emperor said, a thin smile lifting up the corners of his mouth. "And keep your mirrireid on at all times. I may need to contact you at any time."
Locke bowed. "Of course," he said smoothly. The Emperor merely flicked a hand in response. Immediately, the stone chamber seemed to dissolve around them, like clouds of smoke scattered and blown away by a strong breeze.
Locke opened his eyes to see the dark interior of his tent. For a long moment, he did nothing except lie still in his bed, trying to calm his racing, erratic breathing. When he felt steady enough to rise, he sat up wearily and rubbed his face as he tried to dispel the slight disorientation that always accompanied these transitions between realities. Of its own accord, his hand crept under his shirt to clutch the mirrireid resting on his chest. The talisman was always cold, but whenever the Emperor touched it it always seemed to freeze into a solid block of dry ice that burned his skin. Vaguely, Locke wondered if the mirrireid was more than the Emperor had hinted at. There had been times when the talisman had positively glowed in the dark with blistering energy. Then, scarcely a moment later, it would be enveloped in a blanket of cold so intense, it hurt to touch it. Quickly, he made a mental note to himself to research the properties of mirrireid first thing tomorrow.
When the talisman began to warm up slightly, Locke allowed his hand to fall away from the mirrireid, and leaned back in his bed with a sigh. Slowly, he cast his eyes upwards at the ceiling of his tent as he mused on his predicament. Locke was used to the exhausting, and extremely dangerous, game of intrigue. He was well versed in the intricacies, the subtle, shifting alliances, the maze of secrets, traitors and spies. Lately, however, the stakes had risen so high that it was beginning to wear on him. And playing against the Emperor was turning out to be harder than he had expected. Tichon was a veritable master himself in the game. Sometimes, Locke caught himself wondering if the Emperor knew everything after all, and was only humouring him until the steadily closing jaws of his steel trap slammed shut on his hapless and clueless victim. The man's gaze was always too knowing. Too cold. Too calculating…
Calm down, he told himself sternly. It was what Praetor Caylor had taught him when he was still under his care. The game had to be played with an ice-cold heart, a steady hand, and ruthless unwavering precision. Winning meant everything. Losing meant a knife between your ribs. If you were lucky.
For now though, the Emperor was watching. Locke was certain of that. He had seen the suspicion in his master's eyes. Why else would he insist on meeting Locke two days from now, instead of the customary one week? Even without the constant checks on the Perenic plane, there was probably at least one spy within his own army, ready to out blade and kill him the moment he betrayed Khaydarin. They could be anyone from a lowly foot soldier, to any of his Decurions. Perhaps there were even safeguards built into the mirrireid itself, which prevented him from using its powers to do anything against the Emperor's will. Tichon had not managed to build the Empire of Khaydarin to its present might by being stupid.
Well, Locke thought as he considered his options. Two can play at that game.
Locke had not become a Praetor by being stupid either. What the Emperor didn't know, was that he had suspected, suspected and watched, him for much, much longer. The Praetor's spy network was much more extensive than the Emperor imagined. Scarcely anything happened throughout the Khaydarin Empire that Locke did not know about. Yes, Locke had been watching ever since Praetor Caylor had smashed his mask, and walked away from Khaydarin. Watching and judging.
Tichon had his spies to keep him under his thumb. But Locke had his own friends as well. And it was time to let someone else into the loop.
Getting up, he walked to the opening of his tent, pulled open the flap, and summoned one of the guards standing nearby. "Summon Centurion Yvan," he said.
"At this hour, my Lord?"
"Yes, immediately," Locke said. He turned and was about to go back into the tent, when he hesitated. "Go discreetly," he added.
"I understand," the guard said as he bowed. Then he was gone. Locke smiled as he retreated back into his own tent.
Well, if the Emperor of Khaydarin was watching, he would certainly not disappoint him.
He had learned from the master. He could do this. After all, Yamato had danced on the blade's edge for over six years.
He, Locke Dimak, could surely do it for a few months.
A few minutes later, Centurion Yvan pushed open the flap and stepped into his superior's tent. Judging by the tousled state of his hair, and the fact that he was not wearing his usual armour and cloak, Locke decided that he had awoken the man from his sleep.
"You asked for me, Praetor?" Yvan said with a concerned frown.
"Yes," Locke said smoothly. "Come in, Yvan. Sit down."
Still with a perplexed expression on his face, the man stepped into the tent and sat down. Locke spread his hands out over his knees and rubbed them as he considered his next words.
"It is time, Centurion," Locke said, watching the man's reaction carefully, "to make a choice."
**********
** May 22nd, A.S. 522. The next day**
The tall trees growing on both sides of the small shallow stream stretched their leafy boughs over the top of the water like a protective canopy of green. Wading through the stream with her men, her horse up to its hocks in the cold, running water, Yolei had the eerie sensation that she was traveling through a tunnel. A tunnel which snaked and wound its way through a dark green earth, lit with softly wavering shafts of dim, cool light. The water of the stream, a tributary of the eastern river, was lit up with pools of bright blue and aquamarine from the sunlight that filtered through the branches overhead. On either side, the silent bamboo forest rose steeply in layered tiers towards the highlands of the bamboo forest, sheltering them from distant, watchful eyes. Silently, the company passed wordlessly along the streambed, leaving not the slightest hint of tracks in their wake. Everyone kept their eyes on the riverbanks and on the forest beyond them, and their hands on an arrow notched on their taut bowstrings. The horses tossed their heads and looked back and forth nervously as they ventured along the stream. Even Ceria seemed slightly edgy beneath her, even though Yolei had ridden her into battle many times in the past. Here, in no-man's territory, the slightest misstep could kill you.
Turning in her saddle, Yolei could barely see the shadowy silhouettes of the scouts Davis had deployed on the flanks of the company flitting through the bamboo trees on both sides, so swiftly and silently did they run from tree to tree. Every few minutes, she would catch a glimpse of a dark brown and green cloak as it disappeared behind a bush, or melted into the undergrowth like shadows, and she would feel a small glow of pride. The Taelidani scouts were all on foot, yet they kept pace with the mounted main-body with ease hour after hour, day after day. Indeed, they looked as if they would be running faster if it hadn't been for the need to protect the mounted party. And if it hadn't been for the need to stay close to the river, Yolei would probably not have been able to see them at all.
They were several days into their dangerous march beyond the borders of Fan-Tzu, where the Khaydarin patrols were the thickest. The closest friendly army was more than five days march away, even for a fast scout, and the closest city where shelter could be found was even farther. Wilderness surrounded them on all sides as they ventured deeper into the bamboo forests, cautiously navigating their way through the invisible Khaydarin patrols that combed the woodlands. It was risky business. Neither country had been able to spare the troops necessary to protect the Kings and Queens properly on their way to the meeting place. So instead, San and Ida had chosen to use secrecy and stealth as their most effective protection. With a company of less than a hundred men to protect the two monarchs, Davis had been forced to hide and twist his way through the bamboo forests, steer a huge loop around the civilized farmlands of northern Fan-Tzu, and use his silent Taelidani scouts as his eyes and ears in this foreign, hostile land. They had avoided the road altogether, and were some fifty kilometers from the nearest farm. And it was still not enough. Three times, they had been obliged to detour around Khaydarin patrols, and once they had been forced to hide in the depths of a thicket, scarcely daring to breathe as a patrol passed by less than a kilometer away. It was a trying march, and two days of ceaseless tension and vigilance had left the few Fan-Tzu and Jakt honour guards as tightly-strung as bowstrings.
Yolei shaded her eyes as she patted her horse comfortingly on the neck. "Easy, Ceria," she said softly as the horse whickered softly. "Easy." Gently, she heeled her horse to a swift trot. The dark, roan mare took the cue instantly as it cantered through the shallow stream they were traveling in, past the long line of men in front of her. On either side, Taelidani foot-warriors in dark, colour-shifting cloaks looked up questioningly at her as she passed. Wordlessly, Yolei shook her head and they turned back to scanning the forest tensely. In the middle of the Taelidani columns, two trains of men, one bearing the dull crimson-red of Fan-Tzu, and the other bearing the gold-tasseled violet banner of Jakt rode one in front of the other. Aside from that, their shadowy gray and green forest-clothing was indistinguishable from one another; indeed, it was indistinguishable from their surroundings.
As Yolei approached the red train, she turned Ceria aside with a quick flick of her reins. Obediently, the horse cantered up to the middle of the stream to the leader of the train. He was a large man, and his broad shoulders and wide girth sometimes created the illusion that he was also a fat man. As Yolei drew closer however, it became obvious that the "fat" did not seem to rest on the right places. King San of all Fan-Tzu was a large man, yes, but not fat. Not fat at all.
"How goes it, King San?" Yolei said quietly as she turned in her saddle to greet the man. "How are your men faring?"
San raised a hand in greeting. Leaning closer, he raised his eyebrows. "We've been running along this stream for days now," he said in a soft voice. "My men's feet are beginning to feel it, but they can still go far before we must stop."
"Not much farther," Yolei answered. "Perhaps another half a day's march. Then we must leave the river, and risk trekking across land to avoid the patrols. Do you think your men can conceal their tracks well enough?"
San looked doubtful. "All my men are expert trackers and hunters," he said, "but there are so many of them…. Perhaps, T'rakess. That is the best answer I can give you. It depends on how alert the Khaydarin trackers are."
"We'll try and stay on some of the harder and rockier soil then," Yolei said grimly. "We still have time to make all the detours we want. On our current course, we should be able to make it to Ardinberg within two weeks."
San raised his eyebrows. "That little? We're ahead of schedule?"
"On purpose, I assure you," Yolei said. "There is no rush to get there. Not yet, at any rate."
"You fear delays."
"Of course," Yolei said, as she flicked her eyes at the forest. "We're already being delayed. Who knows when we might have to hide out for a week in a cave somewhere in the mountains. It might still happen."
"It appears that for once, time is still on our side," San said in amusement. "Good then."
"I will check with Queen Ida," Yolei said as she jerked her reins again. "In the meantime, stay alert."
San nodded, and Yolei dug in her heels again. Her horse cantered forward to the next train of men, where she looked for Queen Ida of Jakt. When she spied the woman at the head of the column, she tilted her head questioningly at the Queen. In contrast to San, Ida was a small woman with a narrow face that seemed to be set in a perpetual frown. She did not radiate the bear-like strength that San did, but a certain quickness to her gaze and movements suggested a sharp, agile wit. As Yolei passed, Ida gave her a cool, polite nod, but did not deign to engage in conversation. All was well with her men as well. Giving her a thumbs-up sign in return, Yolei nudged her horse past the Jakt column as well.
Finally, she swung Ceria back into line with the rest of the column at the front of the entire host of a hundred men. A young man with unruly brown hair was riding at the front on a black stallion, his dark cloak indistinguishable from any other Taelidani's. Davis appeared unarmed to the unschooled observer. There was no sword hanging at his belt, and his bow was resting on the pommel of his saddle, not in his hands like the rest of his men. Only Yolei could see the hilts of his kodachis barely visible beneath the edge of his cloak. The only thing outstanding about him was the white clothe wound around his forehead which kept his unruly hair out of his eyes. The white clothe gave him a faintly roguish air, as if he was the leader of a party of a brigands, and not the leader of two royal companies.
"All is well with the men," Yolei said as she slowed her horse down to match Davis's pace. "Our men have gone on longer and harder marches than this, and the Fan-Tzu and Jakt soldiers are holding up fine. Some of them are grumbling about cold feet, but it's not serious. The only problem at the moment is that they're getting a little jumpy with the tension."
"First chance we get," Davis said without taking his eyes of the stream ahead, "we're going to hole up in some sheltered, hidden valley, and give the men a day-long rest. We may have gone on longer marches before Yolei, but not more dangerous ones. We can't afford to have people so tense that they start shooting at shadows." He looked down as he motioned with his reins at the horse beneath him. "I don't know about you, but Sondarc seems more restless than usual. He's usually implacable. I've never seen him so worried."
"Agreed," Yolei said. "Ceria seems a little skittish too. Perhaps we should send word with the next wave of scouts to look for a place such as this."
Then Davis turned to look at her for the first time. Yolei started as he saw a hint of worry in those brown eyes. "Speaking of scouts," Davis said, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper, "did Razul and Lafaye report to you last night during your shift?"
Yolei shook her head. "No," she said. "You know that I would have told you if they had."
"They're overdue for a report," Davis said as he turned back to the stream. "Technically, they have until tomorrow night to appear before we raise the alarm. But still…."
"They haven't failed to report every night until yesterday," Yolei filled in for him. "Yes, I know. Don't worry about it so much. They know they have until tonight to report. Perhaps they got held up somewhere, and decided to play it safe by lying low rather than risk moving."
"Perhaps," Davis said uncertainly.
"Look," Yolei said patiently. "You were talking to me about how we must calm down the men just a moment before. It's not going to work if they see their leader as uncertain as that."
"I'm smiling, see?" Davis said as he grinned like the Cheshire cat. "I'm as relaxed as can be." Yolei smothered a grin. Then Davis dropped the clownish smile. "Why do you think I'm talking to you in a low voice? I may look confident to the men, but I know better than to try to fool you."
"So what exactly are you worried about?"
"I still don't like it," Davis muttered. "If they were held up where they were going, there's a good chance that they ran into a Khaydarin patrol. Yet, we're following in their footsteps right now. Then wouldn't we be heading right into the lion's den? Perhaps we should break off from the stream, and try another route?"
"The moment we do," Yolei said quietly. "We'll start leaving tracks. Neither San or Ida is confident of their men's ability to cover their tracks. Not with a hundred people in one company."
"I know," Davis said in frustration. Then he paused for a long moment, as he thought carefully. "Tell the men this then," he finally said. "Extend the scouts to a perimeter of two miles from the main body, and have them start looking for a hiding place. Once we've found one, we'll hole up there for a few days while we scout the land anew. We'll start moving again once we're sure where we are, and where they-"
Davis was suddenly interrupted by a faint splash of water ahead of them. The sound came from around the river's bend less than two hundred meters ahead of them. Yolei jerked her head to scan the river upstream. Davis threw his hand up, and immediately the entire column of men stopped in their tracks. There was a tense moment of silence as both stand-masters strained their senses to detect more. When nothing else happened, Davis pointed to the river banks with both hands. In a heartbeat, the horses had been led to the side of the stream, and men had dismounted. Taking up positions behind clumps of river-side bushes and boulders, men crouched and submerged themselves up to their waists as they fingered their notched arrows, ready to draw them to their cheeks and fire. Hurriedly, Davis and Yolei joined the men on the western bank, dismounted and crouched down as well. Ceria and Sondarc snorted quietly, then fell silent as Yolei put a warning hand on their manes.
There was a long minute of utter silence. The only sound was the faint singing of birds in the dim forest, and the quiet chatter of the river as it flowed gently on its way to the Great Tsi-Xiang Lake. Nobody breathed as every eye in the company fastened itself on the river's bend scarcely two hundred meters distant. Then another splash sounded out. Men tightened their grips on their bows.
The silence stretched for another minute. Then Davis looked at Yolei. What do you think it is?
Can't tell from this distance, Yolei thought back as she strained her senses. Could be a Khaydarin patrol. Then again, it could only be a deer taking a drink from the river.
Davis gnawed on his lip again. Then he abruptly looked at Yolei again. Do you think you can go check it out? he thought. Without being seen or heard?
Yolei looked critically at the thick cover on both sides of the river bank, then carefully assessed the soil on the riverbank. Yes, she replied.
Then do it. I'll stay here with the men. Find out what it is, and come back. Clear?
Yolei nodded, white-faced. Davis glanced back upstream for a moment, then urgently signed for her to get moving. Immediately, Yolei took hold of some of the tree roots that grew down to the river bank. Very carefully, she climbed up the river bank, taking care not to leave a single footprint in the river-bank mud, or make the slightest scrape on the bark. Then, drawing her cloak about her like a veil, she disappeared into the forest as swiftly and silently as a shadow.
Davis clenched his teeth together as he waited with his heart in his mouth. Holding up his hand, he shook his head at the Taelidani who tried to rise and follow their T'rakess, and they reluctantly settled back down. Yolei was the best stalker he had ever seen. If she couldn't make it unseen, then these men certainly couldn't. Easing back down behind a boulder himself, he tested his bowstring, ready to draw it to his cheek in an instant. The tension in the air was so thick that he felt like he was choking on it. Two more minutes passed.
Suddenly, his eyes lit up. Two figures appeared upstream, and one of them waved wildly at them to come up. Davis didn't have to look hard to recognize Yolei's long violet hair as it gleamed in the filtered sunlight. Signaling at the others to come forward, Davis sprang onto Sondarc with a single leap. "Lana, Roban," he said, pointing at the scouts. "Come with me. The rest of you, stay here!" Then he was off with the two scouts.
Sondarc's hooves churned up white foam as he galloped swiftly through the shallow stream. Behind him, Davis could hear the splashes of the other two scouts following him. As he drew closer, he began to realize that the other figure was leaning heavily on Yolei. Yolei was holding the person up with one hand, and waving at him to hurry with the other. Davis put on a burst of speed, then reined his horse in to a stop with a thunderous shower of water. As he looked down, he sucked in a quick breath of horror.
Yolei was holding onto the limp figure of Lafaye. The blood from the ghastly wound in the scout's stomach was staining the water a vivid pink. Yolei had lifted the hem of her gray shirt, and was pressing the wadded fabric of her torn cloak to her wound in an effort to stop the bleeding. Lafaye appeared delirious. Her eyes were half-closed with pain, and a sheen of sweat covered her face. Her breathing came in laboured gasps. "Thank goodness…," she was muttering over and over again. "T'rakess, I've found you…thank goodness…"
Hurriedly, Davis dismounted, and helped Yolei, Roban and Lana to carry the wounded Taelidani to the shore. Once they saw that it was safe, the rest of the column surged forward to see what was going on, and the Taelidani healer rushed forward to help treat Lafaye. Once they saw what had happened however, King San and Queen Ida had the good sense to keep everyone back, leaving the healer enough room to work. Swiftly, the healer pressed Yolei's cloak even tighter against her wound, and tried to guide her to shore so she could lie down. Once Lafaye sensed that he was trying to get her to close her eyes however, she started fighting the healer feebly. "No, no," she muttered urgently. "Have to…have to speak to…T'rakul…"
Davis knelt down beside his scout, and took her hand. "I'm here," he said, in a surprisingly gentle voice. "Relax, Lafaye. I'm here. What happened to Razul?"
"Dead," Lafaye said, each word a painful struggle. "We were caught by a patrol we didn't see…. The arrows took him in the throat. I was lucky…got my stomach…."
Davis looked at the healer, but the healer only shook his head surreptitiously. The arrow-wound was deep, and she had lost a lot of blood. Davis's eyebrow twitched. When he spoke again, there was a false cheer in his voice, as if he was trying to mask the despair. "Don't worry," he said with a slight smile. "You're safe now, here with us. The healer will take care of you. Just leave the rest to the other scouts…."
"No," Lafaye sputtered as she grabbed Davis's arm with an iron grip. "You're not safe! I left a trail of blood a blind sloth could follow…."
"We'll leave immediately," Davis said firmly. "They can't track us through the water. As soon as we get a mile away from here, we'll be safe…."
"No," Lafaye muttered urgently. Her grip on Davis's arm loosened. "You don't understand. It's a trap."
Yolei frowned in alarm, then knelt down as well. "A trap? How?"
"They've known we were here…all along….," Lafaye whispered. "They've been…watching…. With their cloaks…we couldn't see them…. There's an army of hunters about five miles upstream…. All over the forest…in a net…."
Davis looked up slowly, and matched Yolei's eyes. He found only dread and fear in them, and he suspected that was all she saw in his. A cold ball of lead seemed to have solidified in the pit of his stomach, and his palms were sweaty with fear. So he was right. It had been too quiet…too easy…
Lafaye tried to smile through her tears of pain. "I'm…I'm sorry…T'rakul…," she whispered. Her voice was very faint now, as if she no longer had the strength to breathe properly.
"You tried, Lafaye," Davis said as he squeezed her hand. "It's too late to worry about that now. The blame should be mine for believing I could navigate past invisible patrols…"
Lafaye didn't seem to hear. Her gaze had slid past Davis's eyes now, and she seemed to be staring at some hidden place beyond the sky. "I'm sorry…," she whispered one last time, so faintly that Davis had to put his ear to her mouth to hear her. "Sorry…." Then there was a faint sigh as her last breath escaped her lips.
The healer put two fingers to her neck to check her pulse, then shook his head. "She's left us," he said quietly.
Davis stared at Lafaye's stricken face for a long moment. Then he gently placed her limp hand on her breast, and reached out to close her eyes. "Saiya namun tayi'san, Lafaye Tasema," he intoned the traditional blessing. He bowed his head in grief. "May the Lord God welcome you home."
There was a long moment of silence. Yolei looked around in dread. A hush had settled over the entire column of men with Lafaye's startling news. No-one spoke as they looked around, and envisioned invisible armies of Khaydarin soldiers closing in on them like a steel trap closing on its prey. The dark shifting shadows of the dim forest suddenly seemed to be full of phantom shapes, of shimmering cloaks and gleaming steel, ready to charge in and begin the inevitable slaughter. Slowly, Davis rose to his feet.
And against all odds, he began to smile.
"Bring me King San, Queen Ida, and all the staven leaders," he said hoarsely. "At once."
Immediately, men began running to fetch the leaders. Yolei caught Davis's arm as he strode determinedly back to the river. "What are we going to do now," she said urgently. "They know we're here. They've known all along."
"I said," Davis said, as he flashed her a slightly manic grin, "that San and Ida would get through. And they will get through."
Yolei looked troubled, but she couldn't press the issue as the appropriate leaders arrived. San and Ida arrived on their horses, and the Taelidani staven leaders arrived on foot. Davis looked around grimly. "If you didn't hear that," he said, "Lafaye has just told me that our presence in these bamboo forests has been known from the very beginning. It appears that we've walked right into the enemy's trap, despite all our precautions."
Ida hissed. "We should have followed my suggestion," she said angrily. "We should have followed the coast-line, into Yagami and…"
"What we should have done," Davis said sharply, "is irrelevant. We'll assign blame after this is over. We don't have a moment to lose. Axum, Elanna, Sali, I want you to take your stavens, and run circles and loops through this forest, leaving as obvious a trail as possible. Axum, head west, as if you're making for the North road. Sali, head east, as if you're trying for the Gannes river. And Elanna, head back south, as if you're turning tail and running back to Fan-Tzu. Take all your men with you, and some of the Fan-Tzu and Jakt troops. In the meantime, Yolei, King San and Queen Ida will go our own way. Don't even try to conceal your tracks, just run. As fast and as hard as you can." He paused, then spoke again in a softer voice. "Hopefully, your tracks will be mistaken for King San and Queen Ida's. We may be able to spread the enemy's forces a little thinner than he expected."
Axum nodded, and Sali's shoulders slumped. They were all seasoned soldiers, and they recognized an order to die when they heard one. But nobody protested. Davis was not one to throw away his men's lives lightly. The fact that he was doing so now meant that this time, the mission was truly important. That this time, the mission was really worth dying for. San nodded as well, but Ida stirred.
"See here," Ida said indignantly. "You can't order me or my men around as if you were-"
Yolei turned to her, and Ida fell silent at the level gaze that she pinned her with. "No," she said, "he can't. But if we are to have any hope of getting out of this forest alive, then you'll listen to him."
Ida scowled sullenly, but she made no protest. San on the other hand, nodded at Davis. "Shall I assign some of my men to follow us?"
"No," Davis said curtly. "Your only protection will be Yolei and me. If we're caught, it won't make much of a difference whether you have two hundred or two protecting you. Is everyone clear?"
There was a hasty chorus of "ayes". Davis nodded gratefully. "If any of you survive this, sneak through in groups no larger than ten to meet us at Ardinberg." He stepped back and clapped his hands above his head. "Go swiftly then. And may the Lord God illumine your path."
Immediately, the staven leaders broke off, shouting for their men to follow them as they sprinted for their horses. Yolei grabbed both King San and Queen Ida's arms, and pulled them towards their own mounts. Davis whistled for Sondarc, then leapt onto the saddle as his black stallion galloped towards him. Even as he did, the first group of Taelidani warriors were already splashing out of the stream, and crashing into the thick forest with the earsplitting crack of snapping bamboo trees. They were followed a moment later by another group, and another group, each carving their own path through the thick bamboo forest. Soon, the entire column of one hundred had disbanded in all directions in a thunderous shower of white foam. Davis gave his fleeing Taelidani army one last glance, then turned around again.
"Huthut!" he shouted as he dug his heels into his horse's flanks. Immediately, Sondarc shot out of the shallow stream like an arrow, closely followed by Ida, San, then Yolei. Together, the four riders rode like the wind towards the north-west.
Try and find me now, Davis thought furiously as he rode. I dare you. Try and find me now….
Recklessly, he pushed Sondarc to a full gallop as he cleared the stream. Snorting, the stallion leaped over fallen bamboo trees, and bulled its way through the underbrush. He was leaving a trail a mile wide, but Davis didn't care at the moment. He could cover his tracks later on and let the forest swallow him in its vastness, but right now, he had to get far, far away from here. Behind him, he could hear the rapid hoof beats of the three other riders struggling to keep up with his swift warhorse. Grimly, Davis drew his hood over his head in an effort to protect his eyes from the slashing branches and bushes that slapped against his face, leaving long red claw marks on his cheeks.
The attack started almost immediately. Barely five minutes after his group had disbanded, Davis heard faint screams and the ring of steel on steel coming from the East. He turned around in his saddle, and exchanged glances with Yolei. Sali's group was being attacked. San and Ida both looked to the East, startled, but Davis didn't give them a chance to stop. "Keep moving," he called urgently. "They are doing their duty, and we must do ours. Keep going!"
Five minutes after that, Davis tacked back to the north-east, using the sun above him as a guide. The other three followed him wordlessly as he steered through the underbrush to an even thicker part of the bamboo forest. Shortly after, Yolei discovered that they were beginning to go uphill. They were climbing a short hill. Rocks and gravel began to appear underfoot, mixed in with the loamy soil, and their horse's hooves began to leave less and less tracks. It took a moment for Yolei to realize that they were climbing a moraine. Looking to the left and to the right, she could see the snake-like ridge of gravel, silt and small boulders stretching off for miles. For half an hour, Davis pushed them at a grueling pace, regardless of the increasingly steep slope.
Finally, Davis allowed the horse's to halt at the base of a huge tree next to a running creek after almost two hours of hard galloping uphill. They had reached the top of the forest-covered moraine. The monarch's horses were lathered with sweat and panting with their heads drooping to the ground. Even Sondarc and Ceria, both Taelidani-trained tracking horses, were panting for breath. "Give them some water," he said to Yolei as he tossed her his horse's reins. "We're not staying long. Only for a few minutes," he cautioned the two monarchs as they slid gratefully from their saddles. "Keep your weapons close at hand. I'm going to have a look around." Then, he turned and leapt onto the broad tree trunk by which he had stopped. Climbing adroitly up the tree branches like a squirrel, he soon disappeared from view as he ascended into the leafy foliage.
Yolei led the horses to the stream, and allowed them to drink for a few moments. As they did, she dug in her saddle-bag, and brought out two apples, and a flask of water. "Come on," she said in a soft voice as she offered them to the two monarchs. "We must keep our strength up. Drink as well."
"Thank you," Ida said gratefully as she accepted the flask. "But I do not think it is our own strength we must be worried about. We should be more concerned about our horses."
"Don't be too sure about that," San said as he bit into an apple. "Take it from an old campaigner. I don't think we're going to be able to simply run away from this. We'd have to fight to get out."
"What can four of us do against hundreds?" Ida demanded.
"It doesn't matter whether you're going to be fighting or not," Yolei said as she firmly pressed the apple into Ida's palm. "You'll need the strength to travel. The time may come when we have to abandon our horses."
"Yolei," Davis's faint voice came from the tree above. "Can you fetch me my spy-glass from my pack?"
Yolei looked up, then hurried over to Davis's black stallion. Rummaging in his pack, she pulled out the small, retractable spy-glass. "Here it is," she called back as she tossed it up. "Catch!"
Davis plucked it deftly out of the air, then unfolded it and peered through it into the distance. Yolei heard him laughing softly. "What do you see?"
A moment later, Davis himself came sliding back down the tree with the spyglass firmly tucked into pocket. He was still shaking his head in amusement. "Sali is being pursued like we suspected," he said. "I can see the ripples through the forest about fifteen kilometers from here. And if I can see them, it probably means that there's a battle being fought."
"Fifteen kilometers," Ida murmured. "That's pretty far for an hour's gallop."
"Sali is doing his job well," Davis said with a grin. "But the others are doing even better. You may not see it from here, but I think Elanna and Axum have both started forest fires. The plume of smoke is still small for now, but it's not going to be small for long."
"A forest fire," San repeated.
A slow grin spread across Yolei's face. "Why didn't we think of that? They can't pursue us through a fire, no matter how invisible they might be."
"Whoever came up with the idea first," Davis said as ran over to his own pack, and began to rummage in it, "is going to be raised to T'rakul the next time I see him or her. Come on, help me gather firewood. We're going to do the same."
Within ten minutes, there was a hearty blaze burning in the midst of the undergrowth next to the tall oak tree under which they had rested. Davis nodded as he surveyed their handiwork. The undergrowth was already catching fire as he watched. Soon, the entire tree, and all the trees around it, would be consumed as well. "Good," he muttered. "That'll keep them confused. For a little while at least." Then he mounted his horse. "Time we weren't here. Let's ride!"
This time, Davis chose his path more carefully. He guided the others into the creek, and began forcing the horses to canter downstream through the water so that they wouldn't leave any tracks. For the next twenty minutes, the stream flowed down the steep incline of the northern side of the moraine. Yolei fingered her bow nervously as she glanced all around her, half-expecting soldiers to appear on either bank at any moment. Eventually, the stream began to turn east again as it reached the bottom of the moraine, and began to meander across the flat valley. Davis stayed with it, following its twisting, winding course as it tacked east, then west, then east again. He stayed away from the banks where their passing might break some of the undergrowth, or stir up some of the silt, but kept them in the middle. Soon, the horses were breathing hard again from the labour of having to canter knee-deep through water. An hour and a half later, Davis was forced to stop as San's horse tripped and stumbled for the third time. This time, Davis attached feed-bags to their muzzles, and allowed them to feed for a little while as they rested.
Yolei looked around as they dismounted. Davis had chosen to stop in a small, natural hollow by the side of the river. The riverbank was coated with gravel and round river-pebbles that left no footprints. On their left, the river curved away to the west again, on another meander. The land rose around them on all sides in a series of small, steep ridges that shielded them from the gaze of Khaydarin hunters from afar. She turned around. The sky behind them was already beginning to turn red from the light of the fire, and she could see the huge plume of smoke rising like a mushroom cloud into the sky. As if sensing that this area would soon be awash in flames, the animals had all left the hollow, and there wasn't a single bird or animal to be heard anywhere.
"The horses can't keep this up, Davis," Yolei said urgently to him as they gathered more firewood to start another fire. "I'm not sure even Ceria and Sondarc can do it. Their hearts will burst long before we're out of these woods if we keep pushing them like that."
"I know," Davis said in frustration as he dropped a huge branch on the pile of ferns they had made. "We'll have to start traveling over land after this. Hopefully, the fire will erase our tracks, or at least distract them for a little while."
"The forest is huge, Davis," Yolei said grimly. "The fire tactic might keep them occupied for awhile. It might buy us two days. Three if we're lucky. What then? We'd need at least a week to cross into Shienar territory!"
"I don't know," Davis said. "I think we should start drifting towards the west sometime soon, and make for the rockier terrain there. The less tracks we make, the better."
"If we start going west, we'd have a problem with lack of cover before long," Yolei warned.
"We'll worry about that when it comes. Let's just try to survive for now, shall we?"
"You're making this up as you're going along!" Yolei accused him.
"Of course I am," Davis snapped. "What, if you're so smart, do you have any ideas? What are our chances of survival then, huh?"
Yolei dropped her branch, then cast a glance at the two monarchs. They were some distance away, busying themselves with gathering more firewood. She lowered her voice. "That's just it, Davis," she whispered. "At the rate we're going, we will be caught eventually. We can't fight because we're too few. We can't run because they're all around us. What can we do?"
Davis's face had became as hard as stone. "Yolei, I didn't become T'rakul at the age of fifteen by thinking like that, and neither did you."
"I'm thinking about facts," Yolei hissed. "And you're just being stubborn!"
"To hell with the facts," Davis flared. His eyes were literally burning red now, as his stand flickered momentarily around his frame. "Takeru and Kari managed to do it seven years ago, and they were only fourteen. There must be a way."
Yolei drew back slightly. Then she nodded slightly. "All right then," she said. "Go on, fearless leader. What is your plan now?"
Davis took a deep breath to calm down. "If I'm not mistaken," he said evenly, "this is one of the tributaries of the Gannes river. We'll follow it until sunset. After that, we'll leave it and start traveling west, and go all night. We'll find some place to stop in the morning, and lay low for the rest of the day. From now on, we'll have to travel only by night. If we can reach the slightly rockier terrain out along the north-west, we'll be a bit safer. We'll stay in the valleys where there's still some cover, and walk along the streams when we're given the chance. If we must, we'll abandon the horses and go on foot to clear some of the more dangerous terrain."
"Perhaps we could go deeper into the forest," Yolei suggested. "There are ways to cover our tracks."
Davis shook his head. "They know this forest better than we do," he said. "I have only seen maps, and maps can only tell so much. They've been patrolling this area for years. It'd be like wandering deeper into their domain."
"And how would going west be any different?"
"It's along the outskirts of the desert," Davis replied. "We've been there before, remember? True, it's at the very edge of our territory, but – Svok Stavik! No you don't!!"
In the blink of an eye, Davis's kodachis cleared their sheaths and whizzed through the air in one smooth motion. They slashed into the foliage behind the startled San and Ida, and caught the two Khaydarin soldiers in their throats. They gurgled, and fell onto the loamy ground clutching at their throats. Behind them however, more soldiers were charging forwards, straight at San and Ida.
"San, Ida! Get down!" Yolei shouted. She grabbed her longbow from where it was slung across her shoulders, planted her quiver on the ground, and began loosing arrows with a speed born of desperation. As the two monarchs threw themselves to the ground, three soldiers behind them were cut down almost immediately with Yolei's feathered shafts. The rest were forced to dive for cover behind a collection of boulders, or sheath their swords and cloak. As they began to shimmer into invisibility however, Davis was already running forwards, the red glow of his stand beginning to blaze about his body. His mouth opened in a wordless scream of defiance as his stand suddenly appeared before the battle-scene.
Davis was a stand-master that wasted no time when talking or fighting. His stand raised its hand and, with one powerful swipe, smashed the boulders into smithereens. Its claws gouged huge rents in the earth, and the hot blast of exploding rock uprooted small saplings ten yards away. Khaydarin soldiers tumbled away from the boulder like bits of chaff caught in a whirlwind. Some fell to the ground with hideous crunches, and did not rise again. The ones that did scrabbled desperately in the dirt to get away from the wrathful dragon that advanced upon them. They made easy targets for Yolei's shafts as she picked them off one by one with a precisely aimed arrow to the throat.
The remaining soldiers took one look at the rapidly shifting odds, and decided to retreat. With a swift, guttural command from the masked Decurion, they all cloaked in unison, and disappeared from view. Davis looked around furiously, then opened his stand's senses to find them. The flickers of the Khaydarin men's spirits were receding rapidly from the scene.
Nobody spoke for a long moment. Davis's made his stand look around the entire area before allowing it to disappear. San and Ida looked around, stunned at the smoking bodies lying all around them. Then, Davis sprang back into action. "We've been discovered!" he shouted as he ran to retrieve his kodachis. "Yolei, pick up your shafts, quickly! Take a look above the treetops with your stand. King San, Queen Ida, release the horse's tethers, and take away their feedbags. We're leaving this instant!"
White-faced, even Ida didn't object to Davis's orders. Quickly, both she and San released the horses and put away the bags. The horses whinnied and rolled their eyes in fear as they saw and smelt the blood lying all about their feet, but San all but dragged them across the pasture to where Yolei and Davis were. Yolei came running up with her quiver full of recovered arrows, some of them still stained with blood, and leapt into Ceria's saddle. Even as she did, she closed her eyes and summoned her stand. In a moment, the orange griffin was already leaping into the sky to gain a better vantage point.
Suddenly, the air was filled with the piercing blast of a horn. The note came from the next ridge over from the small river hollow. Davis cursed as he looked up. The horn blew another blast, and Davis seemed to move even faster. By the woodpile, he passed a hand over the pile of dry wood, and they immediately burst into flames. Hurriedly stepping back from the intense heat, he leapt onto Sondarc's saddle and snatched up his reins.
"Well?" he demanded as he turned to Yolei, who still had his eyes closed. "What do you see?"
"Oh no…," Yolei muttered as all the colour drained from her face.
"What is it?"
Yolei's eyes snapped open.
"Ride!!" she screamed, just as fifty mounted soldiers crested the ridge behind them with a thunderous roar.
**********
The sight of fifty mounted men screaming for your blood and bearing down on you at full gallop is enough to paralyze most men with fear. San and Ida gazed in horror at the flood of black, rooted to the ground with fright. Davis, however, needed no second bidding. "Ride!" he screamed as he urged Sondarc to a full gallop. "Ride, you fools! Ride!"
Sweeping by San and Ida, he whistled piercingly. The monarch's horses responded to the signal and river silt flew into the air as they raced after Davis's black stallion, bearing their startled riders along. Yolei followed behind them, hanging onto her reins with one hand as she fumbled with her bow. The four horses raced across the river in a thunderous shower of foam, scrambled up the opposite bank, and fairly flew into the bamboo forest on the other side, heading straight west.
Racing through the forest, Sondarc was in his element, and the black horse seemed to fairly drink the wind as his long legs pounded the earth in a blur and threw up great arcs of loamy dirt. Grimly, Davis let go of the reins and hung onto his tracking stallion's streaming mane instead, allowing his horse to pick its own path through the forest. Behind him, he could hear the loud crashes of the monarch's horses struggling to keep up with the swift black warhorse as it bulled its way through the undergrowth. Terror seemed to give all of the steeds new strength as they plunged onwards, and they ran as if they were pursued by a ravenous pack of wolves.
Once again, branches and thorns tore at the riders' clothing as they passed, and soon their sleeves were ragged from fending off slashing twigs. Shielding their eyes with their forearms, they desperately struggled through the forest, sidestepping the bamboo stands and the trees, and smashing through everything else. Fire and sparks seemed to fly from their horse's feet, but even the deafening roar of the wind that passed over them failed to mask the vengeful blasts of the Khaydarin trumpet, nor the pounding of two hundred hooves on the earth behind them.
Suddenly, Davis noticed that everything around him seemed to be turning brighter. The trees overhead were thinning, and the underbrush was fading away. Alarmed, he looked ahead and saw a great, grassy meadow sparsely covered with patches of forest and random, craggy boulders. Realization washed over him like icy water. They were being driven to the outskirts of the forest, where they could be picked off with arrows.
It was too late to do anything about it. Within moments, they had burst from under the cover of the trees and emerged onto the first patch of meadow. The bright, unfiltered sunlight almost blinded Davis and he threw his hand over his eyes to shield them. He cursed loudly. Their cover was gone!
"Davis!" Yolei's voice screamed behind him. "They're shooting at us!"
Already the first hail of arrows was embedding itself into the rocky ground all around them as they ran. Davis looked around wildly, then twisted around in his saddle just in time to see the pursuing cavalry launch their second round of missiles. Swearing, Davis tapped on his reins and Sondarc swerved as several arrows dropped into the ground. The hunters were out of range so far, and they could not aim properly. But sooner or later, one of them was going to get lucky…
Hauling back on his reins, Davis checked his mount's speed. Almost immediately, San and Ida passed him on either side. "Take the lead!" Davis shouted at them. "We'll be behind you. Keep riding, and don't look back!"
He couldn't tell whether the two of them had heard or not, and he didn't have time to find out. He checked his speed even more, and dropped into the rear with Yolei. Letting go of his reins, he fumbled with the straps holding his longbow to the pommel of his saddle. More arrows came whistling through the air. They were getting closer.
Yolei twisted her head to look at him, squinting from the rushing wind. As she saw him hold up his bow, realization dawned in her eyes. "The old maneuver?" she shouted with the slightest hint of a grin.
Davis unfastened his quiver from his right side, then belted it again on his left. He nodded. "Make them think twice about following so close," he shouted back.
"I think we can accommodate."
"On three. One. Two…"
On the unsaid "three", both stand-masters leapt off their saddles while their horses were still at full gallop.
Time seemed to slow as Davis felt the rushing wind rush past his face, then whistle through his hair as he flipped sideways. As he fell off his saddle, he twisted in midair so that his feet hit the ground first. The moment he felt his boots hit the ground, he pushed off again as hard as he could. Beside him, Yolei mirrored his movements as they jumped into the air again, twisted, and settled neatly back into their saddles.
The deft maneuver had taken less than a second, and now both stand-masters were facing backwards.
The pursuing Khaydarin riders were now less than a hundred meters away, and far too surprised to react to the sudden maneuver. Before they could shout a warning and draw back, Yolei and Davis both drew their notched bowstrings to their cheeks and let their shafts fly. Taelidani longbows may be slower to reload and draw, but their range was almost twice as long as conventional bows. By the time the leading riders finally realized that their prey was actually shooting back, eight riders had already been cut down. As they fell, they tripped up four more riders, and they too smashed into the ground in a twisting tumble of arms, legs and hooves.
Finally, the leaders were forced to drop back or veer off. The two stand-masters fired arrow after arrow into their ranks, while their returning shots fell pathetically short. By the time the Khaydarin riders had retreated beyond the range of the longbow, six more riders had fallen. Yolei lowered her bow as Davis jubilantly pumped his fist in the air. "You want them?" Davis shouted at his pursuers. "You'll have to come through us first!"
It was then that the rumbling thunder of another mounted party began to make itself heard through the roar of the rushing wind. Davis and Yolei turned in alarm to see another column of fifty riders burst out of the forest from the east slightly ahead of them. Once the black riders saw them, they urged their horses forward at a flat-out gallop across the flat plain. Several of the forerunners raised horns to their lips and blew short, harsh blasts to summon even more riders.
Davis flipped off his saddle again so that he would be seated facing the front. Yolei remained facing the enemy from behind to keep them back with her longbow as Davis urged Sondarc forward. Effortlessly, the black stallion picked up his pace again until Davis was right behind the monarchs. "Left!" he shouted at San and Ida. "Turn left! We may outrun them yet!"
Even as they began to turn their steeds to face the west however, a hail of arrows, much thicker than before, zipped through their midst. Davis turned to see the second group of riders launching their barbed shafts at them. Desperately, he maneuvered his horse so that he would be between the two monarchs and the new threat.
Before he could put arrow to string however, one of the enemy's shafts finally struck home. San's horse screamed as an arrow took it in the hind leg just above the thigh, and began to limp. As San desperately tried to urge it back to a gallop, a second arrow took the beast in the neck.
The horse fell into the thick, waving grass of the plain with a great thud, throwing San off in the process. "No!" Davis shouted as he slowed his own horse to a canter, and circled around the fallen horse. Groaning and screaming, the King's horse scrabbled piteously in the dirt, its hooves carving great ruts in the dark soil. Finally it lay still as it choked to death on the blood filling its throat. Beside it, San levered himself up onto an elbow, then collapsed back into the dirt again. His face was covered with a thin sheen of sweat from some excruciating pain.
Ida slowed to a halt beside San. Yolei drew up and began circling the King as well with her longbow up and ready. Davis looked wildly at San, then at the approaching riders, then at San again. Making a quick decision, he leapt off his saddle and ran to San's side. "Come on," he gritted urgently as he slung one of San's arms across his own. "You can ride on my horse. Stand up! Stand!"
"I…can't," San panted. "My leg is broken…"
"I'll hold you," Davis said as he forcibly dragged the man upright. "Come on! We have to-"
"Davis?" Yolei's voice sounded unnaturally calm. "It's too late." Davis snapped his head up.
The riders had completely surrounded them in a circle of black as a wolf pack might surround its prey, and were staying just out of the range of Yolei's longbow. There were no more horn blasts, and now the riders were standing as still as statues, staring at them with unreadable eyes. Now that the high-speed chase was over, Davis got his first good look at them. None of them were wearing masks, and Davis could see their expressionless faces, each one as merciless and cold as the next. Every one of them was clad in the same black and gold armour and mail. Their silver scimitars hung at their belts, sheathed in favour of the short horse bows that each clutched in their hands.
Davis gently let San back to the ground again. He said nothing. Behind him, Ida dismounted as well, and came forward to stand next to San. "It appears you were right, my Lord," he said lightly. "We will have to fight our way out of this. And I'm sorry, my Lord and Lady, for bringing you into this mess."
Ida stared unseeingly at the Khaydarin riders and made no response. San shook his head and tried to deny the apology, but all that came out was another groan of pain. The riders began to move again, trotting in a circle around the four. Yolei dismounted, and came to stand next to Davis. "I've only eighteen arrows left," Yolei remarked. "After that, I'll have to use my knife and my stand."
"Better make every one of those arrows count then," Davis said as he cast her an irrepressible grin. "Let's do it one last time."
"Give them something to remember us by?" Yolei said as she twanged her bowstring, a slight smile on her face. An orange aura was beginning to burn around her hands and eyes.
"Oh, they'll be singing about us for the next thousand years," Davis replied with a savage smile. Before anyone could blink, both kodachis were suddenly in her hands. They gleamed fiercely with sunlight as Davis smashed them together and struck up sparks.
"Bring it on!" he roared.
Immediately, the entire circle of Khaydarin pursuers raised their swords with a mighty roar of rage. Four hundred hooves pounded the ground and threw up arcs of dirt as they spurred their horses on savagely, and charged the four trapped travelers with reckless abandon. Davis and Yolei raised their weapons, and settled into their positions on opposite sides of San and Ida. Together with their stands, they stood four-square around the monarchs, ready to battle the overwhelming odds until the end…
Then the shimmering started.
Around the four travelers, a veritable wall of black-clad soldiers, at least two hundred, appeared as they shed their cloaks between the travelers and the charging Khaydarin army. Davis's eyes widened with surprise, and he drew back slightly to defend better, but the soldiers were not facing the travelers. They were facing outwards.
Before any of the Khaydarin riders could react, the Khaydarin footsoldiers raised their bows, and let their arrows fly into the riders' ranks.
Davis gaped as the sky suddenly seemed to be thick with deadly, barbed shafts. Screams began to fill the air, drowning out the thick, vicious humming of flying arrows and loud twangs of released bowstrings. The carnage was horrible. Taken completely by surprise, almost half the Khaydarin riders were shot immediately. Everywhere he looked, he could see riders impaled with at least two arrows falling off their panicking, bucking horses. Horses themselves screamed and hit the earth with thunderous thuds, plowing up huge swaths of long grass and earth. After the first volley, the footsoldiers reached behind their backs, withdrew another arrow, and calmly released another volley. And another. And another.
Broken, the few surviving riders of the initial volley tried to swing around and regroup. Even as they tried to run away however, more soldiers began to uncloak behind them. Davis lowered his kodachis in amazement as hundreds of footsoldiers uncloaked in groups behind the cover of nearby of trees, boulders, or hills. The arrows came thickly, swiftly and mercilessly. It was the most perfect, textbook pincer move that Davis had ever seen. Caught in the open, the riders did not last long.
In the space of a few heartbeats, the entire fight from first charge to last death was over. Davis exchanged stunned glances with Yolei, San and Ida, then looked out upon the field of carnage before them. Dead men and horses littered the grassy plain. Their blood was already beginning to dye the ground crimson. Dying riders groaned as they clutched at arrow-wounds. Then Davis looked up.
The black-clad footsoldiers before him had retreated and regrouped into a loose army. There were at least several hundred of them, and who knew how many had remained cloaked. The golden serpent gleamed on their black leather and armour. Their weapons had disappeared into the folds of their cloaks, and they didn't seem to be making any aggressive moves. For now, they only looked upon Davis and Yolei with impassive gazes behind their masks.
Masks?
Then one man, apparently the leader, stepped to the front. His armour was slimmer and more form-fitting than that of a footsoldier, designed to accommodate the swift ease and intimacy of personal combat. His cloak was trimmed with gold, and the black, planed mask he wore was set with a single jewel in the center of his forehead. Davis heard Yolei gasp behind him as he raised his kodachis again.
There was a long moment of silence. Then Davis raised his voice. "What business does a full-fledged Praetor doing in this backcountry? And why did you save us?"
The Praetor remained motionless for a moment. Then he took another step forward. Davis immediately raised his kodachis even higher, and there was a brief flare of red. "Don't," Davis warned. "You may have saved us, but I still don't trust you."
The Praetor stopped in his tracks, and raised his arms away from the sword sheathed at his side. "My business is my own," he answered plainly. "And I would put down those weapons as well if I were you."
"Why?" Davis tossed back.
"You wouldn't use those weapons," the Praetor replied.
"How can you be so sure?"
"Look around, stand-master!" the Praetor said as he swept out a hand to indicate his army. "The moment you launch your stand, your blades, or your arrows at me, they will slaughter you in an instant. You may kill me before they can get to you, but you won't take that risk."
Davis looked around. The men were still staring at him impassively. He had just seen what those soldiers could do. This was no ordinary legion of Khaydarin soldiers. Their efficiency and ruthlessness in battle rivaled his own Taelidani. No, they didn't stand a chance if they attacked.
Slowly, Davis twirled his kodachis, then let them drop to the ground. Then, taking the bow from his shoulder, he unstrung it. Behind him, Yolei did the same with her bow. Drawing a long, slim knife from behind her waist, Yolei dropped that into the grass as well.
"Good," the Praetor said. "I was sure we could understand each other."
Davis stared at him. "Perhaps you may understand me," he growled. "But I know nothing about you."
The Praetor regarded the defiant Taelidani T'rakul for a long moment. Then he tilted his head. "I saved you," he said. "I don't care how powerful a stand-master is. Two of you could not have hoped to defeat one hundred mounted warriors. Now I want something back."
"What?" Davis said warily.
The Praetor lowered his hands and leaned forward. "Tell me," he said slowly, "exactly where Emperor Takeru Ishida is."
Davis laughed. "You came to all this trouble," he said, "to ask me that? Anyone in the street will tell you that! He's in Ishida!"
The Praetor leaned back and smiled. "Do me a favour, stand-master. I will not treat you like a fool, and you treat me likewise, hmm? I know he's in Ishida. But the Knights are being very close-lipped about exactly where in Ishida. Understandably, of course. After the collapse of the Age of Gods, who can blame them?"
Davis stopped laughing. He frowned. "Then you won't blame me for not telling you…for exactly the same reason?"
"I will find him eventually, stand-master," the Praetor said, still smiling. "My spies are more firmly entrenched in the land than any other that the Emperor of Khaydarin has. Even the Emperor is unaware of my reach. It may take him years to find Takeru. But believe me when I say this: if I put my mind to it, I can find Takeru within several months."
Davis exchanged troubled glances with Yolei again. This Praetor was different. He had slaughtered a hundred of his own mounted warriors. Perhaps the riders were not in his specific corps, but he had killed Khaydarin soldiers nonetheless. And he was talking as if he was independent of the Emperor. As if he had something to hide from the Emperor.
Davis turned back. "Then why don't you?" he said, stone-faced.
"Because, stand-master," the Praetor said, this time with a cold edge in his voice, "those are months that I don't have. I must find him, now."
"What is it to you?" Davis asked.
The Praetor didn't say anything for a long moment, as if trying to decide how many of his cards to reveal. Then he made a decision. "Let's just say…," he said, "he's merely a means to an end. I assure you that he will not be harmed in any way. I merely need him to find Praetor Caylor Ga'artred. You may know the man as Yamato Ishida."
Davis felt the icy wave of shock pass through him. That changed everything. He had assumed that the man was after Takeru to kill him. It was much easier to outmaneuver an opponent when you knew exactly what the other man wanted. But now…
He had no idea what the other man's goal was. How could he even begin to negotiate?
"Why…," Davis said, frowning in puzzlement, "don't you simply find out within your own Khaydarin ranks? I'm sure you can find your own Praetor without our help…"
"Praetor Caylor is no longer with Khaydarin, stand-master," the Praetor said with a slight smile. "He left more than six years ago. Didn't you know?"
Another wave of shock almost drove Davis to his knees. "What?" he muttered. "He…he isn't? Then what side is he allied with now?"
"I've told you too much already," the Praetor said with a slight edge of menace to his voice. "This is not a negotiation, stand-master. Tell me where Takeru Ishdia is."
"What if I choose not to tell you?" Davis probed cautiously.
The Praetor put a hand on his sword's hilt. "Then we will kill you where you stand," he said.
"I don't think you'll do that," Davis said as he looked around. "Not after all the trouble you went through to save us."
"You are valuable to us only because of the information you possess, Davis Motomiya," the Praetor said coldly. "If you refuse to yield that information, you would become worse than useless to us."
"You're bluffing."
"Sometimes," the black-clad man said softly, "the stakes are simply too high to call your opponent's bluff. Do not test me, stand-master."
Davis took a deep breath, and glanced down at San and Ida. San was still clutching at his broken leg, and Ida's hands were shaking with fear. Neither of them were in any condition to run.
"You're right," Davis admitted. "I don't dare call your bluff. But what guarantee do I have that you will not use that information to harm Takeru?"
"You have none," the Praetor replied, "except my word."
"Your word means the world to me," Davis said sarcastically.
"I care very little whether my word means anything to you," the Praetor said, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice. "As I see it, you will tell me now, or I will kill you and your charges, King San of Fan-Tzu and Queen Ida of Jakt."
Davis's spine stiffened, and the Praetor smiled. "Oh, don't look surprised, stand-master. I also know that you're on your way to attend the conference that will take place three weeks from today in the Ishidan province of Saldea. I told you my spy network is far more extensive than the Emperor's." The Praetor's smile disappeared. "Your only salvation now is that I have not told the Emperor. Yet."
Davis looked at Yolei helplessly. They were defeated. There was nothing for it now. They could not refuse to tell him because they would be killed instantly. They couldn't even lie to him, because once the lie was exposed, the Praetor would expose their conference's secret.
"He's in Saldea," Davis said reluctantly, speaking as if each word was dragged from his mouth. "In the secret fortress of Ardinberg near the foot of Mount Gaidan."
The Praetor tilted his head again. "Thank you, stand-master," he said as he turned around and started walking back to his own men. "Despite your hot-headed reputation, I knew you would listen to reason."
"Wait," Davis called out as the black-clad man stepped into his horse's stirrup. "Are…are you a friend or a foe?"
The Praetor didn't answer as he swung himself up into his horse's saddle. As he turned his war-horse around however, he cast one last glance at Davis.
"Neither," he said, so quietly that his voice was almost lost in the wind. "But you were right, Davis Motomiya. I was bluffing." Then he turned his horse around and was gone.
** Author's notes: I just noticed that someone had left a review saying that I should not have used the word "Yahwe-something" in Pilgrimage chapter six. (I won't even write it down. Afraid someone's gonna flame me). Apparently, the word, which is God's name, is so sacred to the Jewish faith that they can't even say it. Well, I apologize for my using it. I was a "moron making assumptions" *grimaces* Though you didn't have to put it quite so harshly. Anyway, I'm very sorry for using the word so rashly and I promise you it won't happen again.