12th Day of Flocktime, 565 CY
The Brass Dragon Inn, Furyondy
The samurai stopped and looked down at the common room below.
It was empty.
There was no one to see the Yanigasawa samurai hesitate and put out his hand on the railing to steady himself.
After a few moments, his breathing returned to its regular pattern. Tojo slowly descended the stairs and strode out of the inn. He carried a blanket rolled up under his left arm. His right hand rested securely on the hilt of his wakizashi.
He was no longer wearing his dastana.
It took a moment for the samurai to locate his friends. They were standing off to the west, perhaps forty feet off. They did not notice him, apparently all engaged into staring off at the setting sun.
Tojo frowned. Aslan and Zantac were nowhere to be seen.
He hoped they were around, but he had already determined that he would not inquire
Tojo knew this was going to be immensely painful for his friends. Not familiar with the ways of bushido, even their long exposure to Tojo's ways would not have hardened them enough to watch this ritual without an extreme display of emotion, perhaps even hysterics in some. While Tojo could not fault them for that, their continual efforts to talk him out of what he knew was his only honorable recourse had shaken his already tremulous resolve. He had recovered for the moment, but the samurai was determined that his final moments would be dignified ones.
And he hoped his dear friends, just this one time, would understand.
Tojo approached to about twenty feet of his friends, and then knelt down and spread the blanket out on the grass. He was about to call out to his companions when Caroline turned around and noticed him. She gave a gasp and grabbed hold of her husband's arm. The others whirled around. It almost seemed to the samurai as if they were surprised to see him, although he could not imagine how this could be so. He had told them days earlier that the seppuku ceremony would be conducted outdoors.
They approached him slowly as Tojo stood up again to greet them.
The samurai bowed deeply to them. Somewhat hesitantly, his friends returned the gesture.
They interpreted his raised eyebrow quickly. "Tojo," Elrohir croaked out. "Aslan and Zantac had to go to Willip. They should be back any moment."
Tojo gazed at them evenly as he considered this piece of information. The questioning note on which the ranger had ended his statement carried the obvious request that Tojo wait until the duo's return. It seemed likely that Aslan had some last minute, foolish hope of saving him. He appreciated the tenacity of his friends even as he was saddened by their refusal to accept the inevitable.
"I am sorry, Errohir-san," Tojo replied at length. "The ceremony cannot be derayed. If Asran-san not avairaber, then you must act as second."
Elrohir's face went white. He glanced around at the others before returning his attention to the samurai. He hadn't been expecting this.
"What do I have to do?" he asked, making a special effort to keep his voice above a whisper.
Tojo took a few steps so that he was standing in the middle of the blanket. He then lowered himself to the ground, but on his knees instead of his usual lotus position. His gaze met the ranger's without flinching.
"I wirr… begin the process." The samurai's voice was not quite as calm as he would have hoped, but it held. "Then, you must strike and take off my head."
"Oh my God," whispered Caroline, clutching even tighter onto Argo's arm, who remained impassive. Cygnus closed his eyes briefly, apparently already envisaging the gruesome scene. Talass was clutching her holy symbol tightly, her face a study in repressed emotion.
Elrohir simply stared at him. Tojo waited a moment, and then gestured towards the Brass Dragon.
"If you prease, Errohir-san. Retrieve your sword."
Walked slowly and stiffly, Elrohir turned without a sound and headed towards the inn. Tojo turned his attention back towards the others.
"If you wood have rast words for me, this is time for then. I ask onry that you do not desecrate honor of ceremony."
The others looked at each other again, and then around them at the darkening landscape. Argo Bigfellow stepped forward, an expression somewhere between a plea and a scowl on his face.
"What would you have us say, Tojo?" the big ranger asked. "You know that every one of us doesn't want you to go through with this. You know how we all feel about you. I wish I could look at this the Nipponese way, Tojo, but I can't. All the words we really want to say would be those of begging and pleading. They would," the ranger's mouth curled, "desecrate the honor of your ceremony. We're all who we are, Tojo, just as you are who you are." He spread his hands apart in a gesture of helplessness. "What would you have us say?"
Tojo stared at him for a long moment. He could feel the tears threatening again, but this time, they didn't fall.
"I wood have you say, Goodbye."
Argo gazed into the violet eyes of his friend.
"Goodbye, Tojo-sama."
Tojo looked up as Elrohir returned, Gokasillion in hand. The samurai looked at his party leader, and then at the others.
Argo had been right. Elrohir, Cygnus, Talass and Caroline were either crying or in such obvious grief that they might as well have been. A part of Tojo's heart went out to them but, as he reminded himself again, they would survive. They would recover. Life would go on.
For them.
There was a very long pause.
"Domo harigato gozaimos, tomodachi," Tojo said at last, his own voice finally starting to crack. "Thank you awe. You- best friends I ever know."
His last tear held. A samurai to the very end.
"Sayonara."
Tojo took one more deep breath, closed his eyes, muttered a silent prayer and pulled his wakizashi from his sheath.
He heard someone choke off a scream- Caroline perhaps, but it didn't matter who. Nothing could be changed now. Tojo's hand was not trembling at all; he was glad of that. All the sorrow, all the loneliness, all the falsehoods were fading away. At long last, Yanigasawa Tojo was regaining his honor.
Now all of his friends were yelling and shouting. Tojo had hoped this would not happen, but it wouldn't change what was to come. The samurai's meditative training reduced all the voices to an indistinct, incomprehensible mutter. Even Aslan's voice wasn't loud enough to-
Tojo opened his eyes.
The paladin was standing directly in front of him, breathing heavily. Zantac was next to him, alternating between panting for his life and scolding the others for apparently not being on the same side of the inn they had been previously, whatever that meant.
For some reason, Aslan seemed to be clad only in his underwear.
All the sounds tapered off into an expectant silence. All eyes were on Aslan and Tojo now.
The samurai raised an eyebrow.
"You warm tonight, Asran-san?"
Aslan smiled, a twinkle in his light blue eyes as he mopped the perspiration from his brow.
"What can I say, Tojo? Finding relics is hard work, especially when you have to rush it."
An invisible force yanked Tojo into an upright position. At least it felt that way to the samurai, because he certainly had no recollection of standing up.
His eyes bored into those of the paladin. Tojo found it hard to believe that Aslan would intentionally disrupt the seppuku ceremony like this, but he couldn't possibly accept that the paladin had...
Trying to control the trembling that was coming from a new and unexpected thought, Tojo asked, "You are here to terr me you find Pears of Hamakahara, Asran-san?"
Aslan looked back at the others, bit his lip and tried as hard as he could to control the wild beating of his heart.
Every word here was critical.
The wrong phrase could bring death.
"No," he said cautiously, "but I have found out that they are within your reach, Tojo-sama."
Tojo glared at him, his eyes seeming to examine every pore, every strand of hair, every minute aspect of Aslan's face. The paladin held his ground and tried to will himself to stop sweating.
Slowly, Tojo's eyes narrowed. The samurai resheathed his wakizashi and crossed his arms.
"And who terr you this, Asran?" he asked, discarding the honorific and speaking in as close to a hiss as anyone had ever heard Tojo speak.
"Wait for it," Zantac mumbled, rolling his eyes heavenward..
Aslan shot the mage a withering glance, then returned his attention to Tojo. The paladin looked as if he were trying to find some way of saying this without the samurai thinking he was mad. Eventually, when it was obvious Tojo's patience was wearing thin, he simply shrugged and blurted out one word.
"Zeus."
Argo Bigfellow Junior exploded into some kind of coughing fit, as if he had suddenly swallowed a mouthful of his own saliva. Caroline pounded on his back, and Talass moved to help him, but he waved them both off and managed to regain some composure. His auburn eyes, still wide open, gazed at Aslan in shock.
A slight smirk graced Aslan's face before he removed it in deference to Tojo.
"We went to Willip to obtain a commune spell. I sent Zantac over to his Guild to see if their library could help us while I went to the temple of Heironeous," the paladin explained. "Unfortunately, Lancoastes was having a private meeting with Lady Chauv, so I was unable to reach him. I tried the church of St. Cuthbert, but they wouldn't even listen to me unless I promised to convert first. None of the other temples had High Priests capable of casting such a spell, so I was forced to..." Aslan trailed off, grimacing.
Argo smiled broadly now. "Did you mention my name, Aslan? Melinjaro gives discounts if you ask right."
Tojo ignored this, his attention still fixated on Aslan.
The samurai did not look happy. He did not look happy at all.
"And you say this gaijin god terr you what gods of Nippon cood not terr their peoper?"
Aslan's smile disappeared. "It wasn't that, Tojo. They couldn't have known to ask the right questions to get the answers I did."
Tojo's right eyebrow rose.
"You were right about the Pearls, Tojo," the paladin continued. "Sabero did indeed take them far, far away from Nippon. Further away in fact, than anyone could have ever guessed."
Tojo's left eyebrow joined its brother. The samurai inhaled sharply, despite himself. His eyes widened in comprehension.
Aslan nodded, a slight smile returning to his face. "That's right, Tojo-sama. The Pearls of Hamakahara aren't on Aarde at all. They're here- on Oerth."
Tojo took several steps backwards in reflex. His eyes swept wildly around, and he suddenly didn't seem to know what to do with his hands. He seemed to be wrestling with an internal dilemma.
The others watched, not daring to interfere in the samurai's thoughts. Caroline eventually asked Aslan in a kind of stage whisper, "Um, did Melinjaro ask you why you were in your underwear, Aslan?"
Zantac snorted. "Hah! He cheated! As soon as we arrived, Mr. Honest Paladin here polymorphs himself to look like he's still wearing clothes, while I have to go back to the Guild dressed like this!"
Caroline shrugged. "Don't a lot of wizards wear robes, Zantac?"
"Not like this," Zantac complained, indicating his garb in disgust. "These look like night robes! You'd think I was on a midnight raid downstairs to the pantry!"
"I'm surprised you didn't already own a set then," Cygnus smiled.
His peer scowled at him.
"Well, if you'd joined up like you were supposed to, ya damn broom handle, I wouldn't be an outcast from my own Guild! However," and here Zantac puffed himself up smugly, "I had a job to do and I did it. Zelhile didn't say a word to stop me!"
Cygnus folded his arms and smirked. "He wasn't there, was he?"
"So what if he was out? He was due back any minute!"
The taller mage had to wrap his arms around himself to keep from busting out in laughter. "What, did you station Aimee as a lookout?"
Zantac, deflated, clenched his fists. "It was Martan, if you must know. Aimee wasn't in either. Look, do you want to know what I found out, or not?"
"I certainly do," Talass cut in sharply, sending a cold glare Cygnus' way. "And I don't think Tojo is in the mood for levity right now," she hissed at the Aardian wizard.
Cygnus risked a quick glance at Tojo, who still seemed to be holding an internal debate with himself. He then nodded soberly to Zantac, who cleared his throat and began.
"Now, this dates back about eight hundred years or so, around the time that the Suel and the Oerdians were first mixing it up in the Sheldomar Valley, in what's now the Kingdom of Keoland. The elves of Dreadwood had already been there for ages, of course. We have the journals of a wizard and scholar named Chelish, who had lived in Keoland about century ago before moving up north. Chelish was apparently on good terms with the Dreadwood elves, because in exchange for retrieving some treasures of theirs which had been pilfered some time earlier, they let him speak with an old elf called Yire."
"Could we accelerate this a bit, Zantac?" asked Argo, looking worriedly at Tojo.
"I'm already rushing through as fast as I can," Zantac snapped back. "Now listen. This Yire, according to Chelish, hadn't even spoken to a non-elf for hundreds of years! He was some kind of historian, and a member of a religious cabal called The People Of The Testing. Now, skipping the parts laymen wouldn't understand," Zantac went on, with a miniature smirk at Bigfellow, "Yire told Chelish that when he was just a young elf, same as any other, he had become friends with this very old elf whose name I now forget. She was the scion of an elven family that had risen from obscurity to one of the most influential in the Sheldomar Valley. This sudden upsurge in their family fortune had coincided when this elf's great-great-who knows how many-great-grandfather suddenly became, as she put in, the most blessed elf in the world."
"And does a string of pearls fit into this anywhere, Zantac?" asked Elrohir.
The Willip wizard nodded. "Yire stated that this elf wore a string of pearls around her neck at all times. A family heirloom, she said. There was some suspicion among their fellow elves of course, but the pearls never radiated magic or anything like that, so it was just chalked up to one of the old lady's eccentricities. Yire said she had a lot." Zantac paused. "According to Chelish's notes, Yire was not only convinced that the pearl necklace was the source of this elf family's great fortune, but that it had come from, and I quote, another sphere, beyond the ether."
"I was able to determine that the Pearls are still in the Flanaess," added Aslan, "but that was all. Keoland would be the most logical place to start." The paladin seemed to be adding something up in his head. "It makes sense, somehow. The Dreadwood is where we first appeared on Oerth, isn't it, Cygnus?"
The magic-user nodded. "And Nodyath's pod went down in the Azure Sea, off the Keoish coast. Perhaps the fabric of dimensions is naturally weak in that area."
"Then he can do it!" Caroline cried out. "Tojo can go find the Pearls! He doesn't have to-"
Her voice suddenly died out. The others turned to follow the young woman's frightened gaze.
Yanigasawa Tojo was now walking slowly back to them. His face now held its old inscrutable pose.
His debate was over.
"I hear awe you say, tomadachi," the samurai said, shaking his head. "And I am sorry, but this news does not change what has happened- or what must happen now."
The others stared at him. For some, horror gave way to sheer incredulity.
"You're one hell of a stubborn jackass, Tojo," said Argo quietly. "Anyone ever tell you that?"
A grin flickered momentarily over the samurai's face. "Many times, Argo-san. By awe of you, mostry."
Aslan was literally clenching his fists in anger. "I can't believe this. You're still going to kill yourself, Tojo? After all this? You're going to do it just because I didn't come back holding the necklace in my hand?"
The samurai shook his head again. "No, Asran-san. Not expect you to find Pears. Not even expect you to discover much as you have. But reason I must die does stem from what you say."
Caroline thought Aslan looked as he did when that time she had slapped him. He honestly looked like he was having a heart attack.
"Me, Tojo?" the paladin gasped. "Me?"
Tojo held up a finger. "Not of what you say now, Asran-san. What you say earier, inside. You are right then. I abandon quest my daimyo assign me when I reave Aarde. For this, there can be no excuse. No pardon. No forgiveness. For this, I must die."
"I was wrong, Tojo," Aslan whispered, his face pale. "That wasn't what I meant."
A sad smile returned to the samurai's face. "You paradin, Asran-san. You not neary so good a riar as Bigferrow."
Argo mulled that over. "I'm not sure whether I should be insulted by that or not."
Without warning, Tojo suddenly drew his wakizashi and stepped back severar paces. His voice was suddenly sharp again, and as hard as steel.
"Is time you face truth, tomodachi! Is time for seppuku, whether you assist or not!"
"Tojo, no!" yelled Elrohir.
Cygnus literally had his hands pressed together in supplication. Don't do this, Tojo- I beg you!"
"Please, Tojo!" cried Caroline. "You don't have to do this! You can find the Pearls now! You're on the same world that they are! No one has to know that it was luck that you came here!"
"I WIRR KNOW!" Tojo screamed back. "I WIRR KNOW!" The short sword swept back and forward now, keeping the others who had rushed forward at bay. The samurai's face was awash in pain. "I know I have fayered! I-"
"YOU'RE WRONG, TOJO!"
And from the back of the party, Talass came rushing forward at Tojo. She stopped only when the tip of Tojo's wakizashi swept forward to intercept her and pressed hard against the front of her yukata robe.
"Talass, get back!" yelled her husband.
"No!" she shrieked back at him, and then whirled her head back around to glare directly into Tojo's face, which was starting to grow red with anger.
"I'm going to tell you something, Tojo-sama, and you'll have to kill me if you don't want to hear it! And if you try anything first, I'll insult you so badly, you'll kill me on sheer instinct!"
Tojo was starting to show the same signs of rage he had in the stables of the Highport Temple. The sword trembled in his hand, and it was only a rapidly fading portion of his mind was keeping it from thrusting forward violently.
"No one move!" yelled Zantac, desperately trying to think of some brilliant tactical maneuver. Tojo, now in full battle readiness, was switching his gaze from Talass to the rest of them. His left hand was already on the hilt of his katana.
Unexpectedly and incredibly, Talass' voice suddenly dropped back into a completely conversational tone.
"You're wrong. Tojo-sama. You think that you disobeyed your daimyo when you came to Oerth, but you were following his orders all along. Had you not come here, only then would you have been guilty as you've said."
"You speak foorishness, Tarass." The samurai's voice was a harsh whisper.
Behind them, Elrohir, his face white with panic, leaned into the paladin. "She's going to tell him, Aslan. She's going to tell him, and he's going to kill her for it. Stop her, Aslan. Use your Talent- you can hit them both. Please, stop her!"
"A psionic blast isn't a sure thing, Elrohir" Aslan whispered back. "If I have to, I'll do it, but hold on a minute. I've been thinking about your theory ever since this morning, and if it is true- if we follow it along to its conclusion..." the paladin turned his head now to give what he hoped was a comforting look to his friend.
"We may have an ally in this that we never even knew about."
"Think back, Tojo," Talass was now saying. "I want you to think back to when you were with the others on Aarde, and you made the decision to stay with them."
That portion of Tojo that was still trying to hold back the samurai's fury was shaking madly. He wasn't looking the cleric in the eye. His gaze was lower- on a small dark stain on her robe.
"Tarass-san, " he whispered through an extreme effort. "You-"
"Think back, Tojo," the priestess of Forseti continued calmly, ignoring him. "I want you to think back to that very moment. Go to that place; go to that time. I need you to concentrate- I know I'm bleeding Tojo, don't stare at my chest, it's not polite anyway- I need you to concentrate on that moment just as if it's happening right now. I want you to remember not just what you were seeing and hearing, I want you to remember exactly what happened."
With agonizing slowness, the samurai's eyes finally lifted, but they were not seeing her. His ears were not hearing her.
The wind was starting to pick up.
"I... I make decision to go with them," he whispered.
"How?"
"What?" The voice came from a long way off.
"How did you make that decision, Tojo?"
Fighting, fighting. Those purple orbs trying to lock onto her face.
"Not... understand."
Talass hesitated just the right amount.
This was her forte.
"Did you hear a voice, Tojo?"
It was starting to grow colder.
"I... I terr myserf to-"
"Are you sure it was your voice, Tojo? Did it sound like yours?"
Despite everything, one eyebrow rose.
"Did not think so, but- who erse cood it be?"
"Sabero."
Nobody moved.
Nobody but Yanigasawa Tojo, whose eyes opened wide in shock.
The wakazashi dropped from the samurai's hand. He staggered back another step in an almost drunken gesture.
"Hard to believe, I know," the priestess of Forseti said, now holding her left hand over her heart. She turned around to smile wanly at her husband. "Someone pretty much had to beat the idea into my thick skull, as well." She then turned back to Tojo and slowly took another step towards him.
Tojo's face held so much sadness and confusion, he looked like a child. A small, lost child.
Very slowly, Talass cradled his left cheek with her right hand. "Time can bleed, Tojo-sama, just as we do." Her light blue eyes flicked downward, but only for a moment. "Just as you reached into the past and without even knowing it, saved Yanigasawa Tsugo, so did Sabero reach into the future to save someone whom he must have thought was very important. Someone worthy- who had a very, very important task ahead of them."
"Find Pears he had hidden?" Tojo whispered unbelievingly.
Talass nodded. "Perhaps there is some link between Sabero and Tsugo that we cannot and will not ever know." She shrugged. "Perhaps-"
And for the second time in a single day, Talass gasped in pain as a man suddenly grabbed her wrist in a vise-like grip.
Elrohir's hand went to Gokasillion's hilt. "Let her go, Tojo," he uttered in a cold voice.
Tojo ignored him. "You know awe this for truth, Tarass, or you just too afraid to see me die- even if I roose honor?" he growled.
Talass said nothing.
Tojo shoved his face right up to hers and screamed.
"YOU KNOW THIS FOR TRUTH?"
One single tear, born either of pain or sadness, trickled down the cheek of the Priestess of Truth.
"No, Tojo-sama," she said quietly. "Only gods know what Truth truly looks like. All we mortals can do is search... and decide for ourselves what it is we've found... and what we're going to do with it."
Tojo let go of her wrist.
"I've said all I can, Tojo." Talass said quietly. She stepped back and before the disbelieving eyes of all assembled, picked up Tojo's wakizashi and handed it back to him.
"The defense rests."
Talass turned around, walked back to the others and put one hand to her chest again while the other clutched her holy symbol. She murmured quietly until the dark stain on her robe stopped growing. She seemed unaware of Elrohir enfolding her in his arms.
The others stared at Tojo, and he stared back at them.
The wind picked up a little more. The sunlight was fading.
After several seconds, Yanigasawa Tojo strode past the assemblage and walked about twenty feet further on to the west. Then he stopped, resheathed his wakizashi, and placed his hands behind in his back in that old familiar gesture.
He was meditating.
The others watched in silence.
Time passed.
The western horizon slowly but inexorably swallowed the Oerth's sun.
The party stood there in the wind, the chill and the slowly gathering twilight.
A strong breeze suddenly reminded Aslan that he was still standing outside in his underwear. The paladin looked around, seemingly embarrassed about this now for the first time.
Caroline Bigfellow, the wind blowing her black hair across a face swollen red from crying, managed a naughty wink at him.
Aslan tried to scowl but only managed a tired smile.
"I think we'd better go inside," the paladin managed after a bit. "We should give Tojo some privacy. I'm sure he'll let us know when he-"
"No need, Asran-san."
The others turned back. Tojo was facing them again, but the samurai was now only backlit by the remnants of fading daylight. They could see nothing of him but a silhouette.
"I make decision," came Tojo's voice
The others stared, not daring to move.
Quietly, their samurai friend approached them.
It was getting dark fast now.
But as Elrohir would later remark, you didn't need a lot of light to see a smile that wide.
"I decide. I take best of both words."
It was really impossible to gauge how long the resulting tumult and exaltations lasted. Certainly long enough for the door of the Brass Dragon to partially open, and a number of the staff's heads to peer out curiously. Certainly long enough for Tojo to politely but firmly turn away each and every attempt at a hug that came his way. Certainly long enough for the samurai to wait impassively as his friends embraced each other as a substitute.
And certainly long enough for Cygnus to need to throw a light cantrip on top of his brand new quarterstaff.
Gathering himself partially back together, Elrohir turned back to the samurai. "Tojo," he began breathlessly, "we're all with you. The stockade can wait- it's not like we're under the king's directive anymore, anyway- we'll set out for Keoland as soon as-"
But Tojo raised a hand to stop him. The samurai's expression was curiously casual.
"No need to rush, Errohir-san," he intoned, raising an eyebrow. "Why in such hurry?"
If the preceding tumult of joy had been loud enough to set off an excited cacophony of barking from two temporarily confined dogs (as it had), the stunned silence that followed this pronouncement was intense enough to make the sounds of crickets into a deafening crescendo.
Tojo's eight friends gaped at each other, and then at him.
And then the third and final amazing sound pealed through the twilight of this amazing day at the Brass Dragon Inn.
Tojo's laughter.
None of them had ever heard the samurai laugh before. It was a surprisingly deep sound, perhaps an octave lower than his normal speaking voice. It was interrupted constantly by a hiccupping fit, which Tojo had seemed to set himself into by this unfamiliar action.
"He's a doppelganger," Zantac said at last. "He's gotta be."
Tojo motioned with a hand gesture for silence, or at least patience, while he finally tamed his laughter and waited for the hiccups to subside.
"You not understand, good friends," he finally said, still chuckling.
"May as well put that phrase on our tombstones, Tojo," Elrohir said, shaking his head. "I don't think any of us will ever really understand you."
"My daimyo, Yanigasawa Yashimoto, assign me task of finding Pears of Hamakahara," Tojo recounted, his laughter now gone but not his smile. "Naturary, it shamefer of me if I deray in this. But since daimyo now gone six hundred years, my task now to bring Pears back to Nippon to new Yanigasawa daimyo-"
Elrohir and Talass glanced involuntarily at each other. Aslan's mouth twitched, but he said nothing.
"-and renew my vow of fearty to him. My cran wait six hundred years for me. They can wait few more. My friends have task to attend to back in Pomarj first, and I sharr stand at their side."
"I can wait for this," he continued, his eyes taking on a wistful look, "I wirr have my oroyoi. My honor wirr be restored, and I wirr be home, where I berong.."
"Tojo," asked Caroline, with a worried look. "Does that mean, once you find the Pearls, that you- you'll be leaving us for good?"
Tojo's smile faded.
"Yes, Carrorine-san," he replied softly. "That exactry what it mean."
"Then we'll be with you every step of the way, Tojo," said Aslan, his voice as loud as Tojo's was quiet. "We'll travel with you back to Nippon, right to your clan stronghold, to make sure nothing goes wrong."
Tojo now did yet another thing the others had never seen him do. He put a passable copy of Argo's fake thoughtful impression on his face.
"Not sure if Nippon ready for you peoper," he said cautiously, before that wonderful, bright smile returned.
"But they just have to adjust then. I honored to awrays be at your side."
After yet another miniature celebration, Aslan declared it was now officially too cold to remain outside, not when the serving girl had already dashed out to them and told them that the staff (who naturally knew far more about what was going on than they had assumed) had prepared a hot dinner for all of them.
"Yeah, I suppose we'd all better get back inside," Argo smiled at the paladin. "Just because you don't plan on having children means you have to let certain parts freeze and break right off, huh?"
Aslan scowled and led the way back towards the inn.
Just as he had opened the door again, however, he stopped short.
"What is it, Aslan?" asked Cygnus, who was right behind him.
The paladin turned around and eyed all of them.
"We need to give thanks," he said suddenly.
"Um, can't we do that inside?" beseeched Zantac.
Aslan shook his head. "No. Right here and right now. Do any of you realize the meaning and the magnitude of what's taken place here today?"
The others considered. Some seemed to know, or at least to guess, where the paladin was heading with this. Others seem bewildered.
"Argo," Aslan said, catching the big ranger's eye, "you don't believe in coincidences, right? Than if that's the case, we are blessed beyond belief! Just since the beginning of this year alone, we've all faced the certain death of one or all of us versus Nodyath, in Highport, at the stockade, and again right here! Are we that clever? Are we that resourceful?" The paladin shook his head. "I don't think so. We've come through danger unscathed more than anyone has a right to expect."
"Not totally unscathed," Elrohir reminded him.
Aslan nodded. "I know, Elrohir, but we know that Tad is alive and well. Believe me, when I first found out he had been taken, I would gladly have given up all hope of ever seeing him again if I could be assured that he'd be okay. I never thought that would happen, but it did. I've spent most of my life trying to come to grips with the divine. I probably don't know much more now than when I first started, but I know when we're being looked out after."
And with that, the paladin lowered himself onto his knees. Since he was blocking the open doorway, the others had little choice but to follow suit.
Tojo was already praying. His voice was low; the words, Nipponese.
"Thank you, All-Father," Aslan began. "You have shown us the way through peril; not only from our enemies without, but also from our frailties within. Your wisdom has guided us-"
An extremely lo,ud throat clearing came from behind him.
"-even if your ways seem mysterious to us," Aslan concluded. He cocked an eyebrow at Bigfellow. Argo smiled. The ranger's own prayer was considerably shorter.
"Thank you, Zeus, for once again showing them how's it done."
Cygnus was also praying, but the mage's supplication was a private one.
Father of Victory, Cygnus thought, thank you for what you have done, and please help my friends understand what I must tell them tonight.
Talass, Zantac and Caroline were also engrossed in silent prayer.
Soon, it was over, and everyone rose to their feet again.
"Let's eat," said Aslan. "I'm starved."
Just as Cygnus, near the back of the pack, was about to enter the inn, Elrohir grabbed his arm.
"I couldn't do it, Cygnus," the party leader confided in him.
The wizard looked questioningly at his friend.
The ranger shrugged. "Who do I thank? Who really saved us? Couldn't it have been us all along?" The party leader kept his voice down, obviously not wishing to be overheard by the others. "It just didn't feel right to me, somehow. I started thinking about Odin, or Forseti, but it just seems…" Elrohir trailed off, shaking his head. "I don't know, Cygnus, I just don't know. Hell, if anyone deserves credit for today other than us, I'd say it was Lemontharz. He was the one who put the idea in my head, years ago. Maybe he's the one watching over us."
He gave Cygnus a look of resignation and joined the others inside.
The tall mage glanced back one more time outdoors.
The stars were beginning to show themselves.
"I wouldn't doubt it, Elrohir," he whispered.
Cygnus went back inside, closing the door quietly behind him.