Disclaimer – I own nothing other than the gray matter between my ears, and my own mistakes.
AN – There may be grammatical and spelling errors in this chapter. It is late, and I have not proofread this for the 3rd time as I usually do. If there are any glaring errors, I will remove the chapter, correct them, and repost it. I just really felt I needed to post the next chapter for my loyal readers who have been so patient.
Chapter 2 – Meeting
Miaka snickered behind her hand as she watched the way the lead guard unceremoniously dropped the minister into a heap before the door of the shed. She was sure the minister had never been manhandled in such a way before in his life. Those of power and status were unused to the rougher aspects of life.
The man with the pointy hat and shiny robes sputtered in indignation and rose to brush the dirt off his robes. The glare he pointed to the guard promised punishment of the highest order for this offense. Sure enough, the man's voice was high and whiney as he shouted, "What is the meaning of this outrage?! I am a busy man and do not have time to be carted around like a sack of produce!"
The guard gestured in a careless manner towards Miaka and stated, "This person appeared demanding an audience with the emperor. No one has arrived to determine her purpose and we can not waste a detachment to guard a single woman." Then the guard turned his body slightly away from the minister and the woman as if dismissing their presence.
Miaka studied the face of this paper-pusher and wondered exactly what she would have to do or say to get in to see her old friend Hotohori. Finally, she stood and decided for the no nonsense, direct approach. Clearing her throat, she made sure she had the flustered man's attention. "I require you to confirm my identity with the Emperor as I am on a mission of the most urgent importance. Once the Emperor is assured of the genuineness of my identity, he will most likely demand my presence." She assumed her most authoritative voice, the one she used on her daughter and her little friends when she had to supervise play dates. "Please tell his highness that the woman who asked for a jewel from his crown during the procession a few days ago needs to speak with him regarding matters concerning the newly appeared Priestess of Suzaku. If he is still doubtful, you may remind him that the second time I met him, he was in his courtyard, alone. We spoke of my purpose in Konan and I thought he was a woman. We spoke of my arrest and my own world. He gave me his word of honor that he would not summon the guards. No one else was present, and only he and I would know of what was spoken."
The guards had turned in her direction even though they were not openly looking at her. She knew they were listening. The minister still retained a sour, doubting look on his face, but he shifted about on his feet as if he were considering her demands. She sighed, "Sir Minister, you must realize, if I am speaking the truth, the Emperor will be greatly annoyed for any delay in relaying this information to him. And if I am lying, the sooner you dispose of me, the sooner you will have erased a threat to your empire. These highly skilled guards could be put to a much better use than guarding a single woman. The walls need to be fortified against attack and spies during this time of war with Kutou." She smiled her best innocent smile and hoped that she had convinced this doubting man to hurry on his way and do her bidding.
She relaxed as the minister protested and grumbled, but turned sharply and made a bee line for the throne room. The guards watched in surprise as it was well known that ministers were always busy doing something, but never anything of any seeming consequence. Always wrapped up in their heads of politics, influence and currying favor. The soldiers never understood the world of intrigue and preferred their straight forward world of enemy...defend.
Miaka's posture slumped a bit as she allowed the tension to ease from her body. Time was important. She had things to do in a limited amount of time before her younger self accomplished her goals.
The head guard, Mister Fancy as she was beginning to think of him in his snappy uniform, looked carefully at her with some expression other than annoyance. She looked at him and lifted her hands face up and shrugged her shoulders in a gesture of 'I don't know.' His eyes moved to her left hand and a frown crossed his face. He turned to the soldier on his left and murmured an order that had the underling scurrying off towards the barracks she had seen earlier. He turned back to Miaka and gestured for her to take a seat in the doorway. She looked surprised that they were not going to shove her back in the dark shed and lock the door again. Did this man trust her a bit?
As she shifted her body to sit with her legs folded up under her and to the side, she leaned against the door frame. It was nice to relax, even if it was only a bit. The large man gracefully sat his body on the ground in a cross legged position about four feet in front of her. This again was a surprise. One rarely dropped their guard in the presence of a perceived threat. Feeling a bit uncomfortable with this development, Miaka was unsure if she should speak to these men. She was already interfering in the development of the future of her younger self, and in the past of her present self. What more damage would she create by talking to more than the ones she absolutely had to?
The man finally realized she was not going to open the conversation, and he felt that he should know a bit about this strange woman before the minister returned and whisked her away to the inner workings of the palace. Once she was gone, he doubted he would see her again. For good or foul. There were things that confused him that he could not just let drop. She was so young, and carried an aura of innocence and sweetness. Then in a moment, she could change and present herself as a trained, seasoned fighter with a quick wit and ability to assess a situation. He cleared his throat and presented himself, "I am Lieutenant Kunai of his Emperor's 2nd division of infantry. I suppose it would be foolish to assume you would freely give your name since you have gone to such trouble to identify yourself to his Emperor's minister without providing one."
Miaka smiled at the intelligence behind his statement and bowed her head to show he was indeed correct. "I can not provide you with my full name, but you may address me as Mia. I would like to thank you for procuring a minister in such a timely fashion. I hope I can return the favor at a future date. My mission is time sensitive and any further delay could be disastrous." Her stomach chose that moment to growl again, and a few of the soldiers in the front of the shed snickered again. Her cheeks pinked a bit as she thought, 'why is a growling stomach always so funny?' The Lieutenant gestured to her discarded lunch and motioned for her to resume eating. With her good hand, Miaka reached for the dried fruit and offered the man some. He shook his head politely and she finished her lunch.
A few moments later the soldier that had scurried away at the Lieutenant's order returned with a slightly older man who looked like he was in the army, but not a fighter. The Lieutenant acknowledged the new man and turned to Miaka. "I took it upon myself to bring our healer to treat your hand. Such grave wounds could delay your mission." He shifted and rose to allow this new man access to the prisoner. Miaka was indeed surprised at the thoughtfulness of the Lieutenant, and acquiesced to being treated.
The healer kneeled before her and gently took her bloody left hand into his own larger hand. A frown crossed the man's face and she could almost hear him wondering how in the world she received such an injury. As she tried to look at her hand like they would, the only thing she could figure they would attribute her wounds to would be torture, because they didn't know about food processors. She personally thought her hand looked like it got caught in a blender or meat grinder.
As the man opened his medicine box, he looked into her face with a question in his eyes. He really wanted her to tell him how this had happened, but she would not. She thought about saying something flippant like "I cut myself shaving" but decided silence was the better path to take. Let them wonder. Still, a half smirk lifted the side of her mouth as she glanced from the healer back to the Lieutenant.
The healer was quick and efficient and soon had her hand covered in a healing, pain numbing goo and wrapped with cloth. She looked like she had an oven mitt on her hand. But at least the pain was gone for the most part. She was about to offer him her thanks when a soul-sheering pain tore through her chest. She squinted her eyes shut and sucked in a breath in surprise. Both hands clawed at her chest as she doubled over and her forehead hit the threshold of the door. The pain felt like a hot spear pierced her chest and lava flowing from her chest into her extremities.
As the pain ebbed, she found she could breathe again. The sounds around her crumpled body reminded her of where she was. The healer was frantically answering questions from the Lieutenant as to what had happened. She let out a deep sigh as she slowly pushed her upper body back up into a sitting position. The healer gently helped her in attaining this upright position.
She carefully looked around and felt the eyes of the soldiers boring into her. It wouldn't be good to have a prisoner suddenly keel over while in their custody. She raised her right arm up and used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe the pain induced sweat from her forehead. She couldn't answer their questions of what had happened as she didn't even know herself. The only other time she had felt such an intense pain was when she was dragged this last time into the Book. Hadn't Suzaku said something about feeling the pain of each change she made in this timeline? With a final sigh, she relaxed her body totally against the doorframe and commented for those questioning her. "I guess the minister finally spoke to the Emperor."
The Lieutenant looked down at the strange woman and realized no other answers were forthcoming. So, her pain was caused by the minister talking to the emperor? That was a little more than odd. But in this day and age where Priestesses from other worlds were showing up and the guardian Gods were being summoned to save their world, who knew what other strange things could occur. At least he could have the healer bind her hand. That was all his training was good for. He could not fight the occult or supernatural.
Only a few moments had passed when a flock of ministers descended down the palace steps, headed in their direction. The Lieutenant grinned. "I guess the Emperor believed your story enough to summon you to the palace." The same flustered minister appeared before the shed with four others and began spouting orders to bring the prisoner. The soldiers from behind the shed gathered by the doorway to escort her to her audience with the Emperor. One of the underlings reached for her duffle bag and her smaller fanny pack as they gestured for Miaka to walk in the middle of this detachment.
Miaka felt a bit strange needing 12 brawny men to walk with her. She had been able to walk on her own since she was two, for Heaven's sake! But, instead of feeling upset, she found it funny some how. She settled into an almost march to be in step with the soldiers. Their boots made a noise that reminded her of a drum beat in one of her favorite modern songs. How long had it been since she listened to music? Her mind wandered as there was nothing to capture her attention on the march across the courtyard. The sun felt wonderful on her face as she tilted her head back and simply enjoyed the feeling.
When they reached the shade cast by the porch, she felt like she had just awakened from a dream. Her attention quickly refocused on her surroundings and she realized she was standing before a large, ornately carved oriental door. When this door was opened, she was lead into an antechamber of the Emperor's throne room. She had been here before, and knew that she would have to wait until summoned. It would not be good to barge in on some other important meeting. She needed to make a good first impression. Or, in this case, a good…. second impression? Or would this be a third or fourth impression? Seriously, the second impression would have been when she returned after three months and landed in the middle of Hotohori's war council.
She jumped when the double doors were flung open by two huge guards that were even larger than the Lieutenant. It was her turn to be brought before the Emperor. The ministers that had remained around her scurried in like frightened cockroaches to take their positions against the walls. She shook herself and looked around at her detachment of guards. The Lieutenant gestured with his hand for her to precede them into the throne room, and she did. With a shake of her head, and a squaring of her shoulders, she practically marched into the room.
As she walked up the luxurious red carpet in the center aisle of the room, she remembered all the other times she had stood before the raised platform. The purple curtains were still full and gathered along the pillars supporting the roof. The white, carved painting still adorned the stairs directly before the ornate throne that Hotohori inhabited. There were two gold urns on either side of his chair to light the dark room, and two fan bearers behind him to cool him with their giant peacock feather looking fans.
But the thing that captured her attention more than any finery was the young man sitting at the top of the stairs watching her with suspicion. Oh, Hotohori. Her mind cried out to run to him and hug the daylights out of him. He was still alive. She laughed at herself as she blinked away the tears. Of course he was still alive, she had returned well before the Kutou army invaded and Yui sealed away Suzaku's powers.
Her breath caught in her throat as Hotohori came more into focus. He was so young looking. Had he looked so young before? No of course not, he had been three years older than she at the time of her first travels. He had been a knight in shining armor. Now she was six years older than this man who had been an emperor all his life. He looked like a boy pretending to be a man. But he was still beautiful. His golden eyes were narrowed and his arched brows marred by a frown, but he was still gorgeous. In her mental wanderings, she sometimes wondered if Hotohori and Nuriko should have been born women. It was almost a crime for a man to look that naturally pretty. It wasn't fair.
With her detachment of guards lined up behind her, Miaka walked half way between the door and the throne and lowered herself to the ground. She knelt in respect, and then placed her forehead on the carpet and remained there to show her deepest regards. Above her on the raised platform, she heard the deep, sexy sound of Hotohori's voice as he questioned her. "Woman. My minister states that you claim to have information in regards to the Priestess of Suzaku. Who are you and how is it that you know of privileged information?"
Miaka raised her head off the floor and gazed with loving eyes at one of her dearest friends and defenders. "Your highness, I wish to tell you of my travels and mission but I fear that irreparable damage could be done to Konan if my information became general knowledge. I mean no harm to your Highness, or your empire. On the contrary, I come with Suzaku's blessings to prevent great tragedy and injustice."
Miaka waited and watched the indecision on Hotohori's gentle face. In only a moment he was ordering the throne room cleared of all personnel except the detachment of guards that had accompanied her. As the upset ministers and staff exited in a grumbling huff, Miaka could barely make out the snickering coming from the ranks of hardened soldiers behind her. It must be a funny sight for them to see all the soft-handed, non working palace extras being tossed out.
Finally, the room was cleared, and the guards placed at the doors to prevent any curious ears from hearing what they should not. Miaka stood and took a few steps closer to the stairs and the throne and began her tale. "Great Emperor, I know the things I speak of as I am Miaka Yuuki and experienced them with you."
Hotohori interrupted, "But how is that possible? The Priestess Miaka left on a mission just this morning and you are not her."
Miaka smiled like a parent explaining something to a child. "You are correct Highness. I am not her. I have not been that girl in some nine years. I traveled back to your world through the Universe of the Four Gods, and my younger self is currently attempting to gather the other of the Suzaku warriors." The shock on Hotohori's face was evident for all to see. "I know that Tamahome is currently being held in Kutou in exchange for their army not raiding any more villages on the Konan border. And I know that Chichiri and Nuriko are with my younger self and using an enchanted mirror that Taiitsukun gave them to locate the remaining warriors. Also, I know that you wish you were with the Priestess that you love, and Chichiri will return soon today to offer to take your place here in the palace so you might travel with her."
The moment those last words were spoken, the sharp, tearing pain stabbed through her chest again and brought her to her knees just as it had in the shed. She didn't know if she had cried out, but when the pain receded she found the Lieutenant on her right side and Hotohori on her left side. She lifted herself up, braced on her right hand as her eyes searched out the face of her friend. His eyes were full of love and concern, and his voice was gentle, "Miaka, what is wrong? Are you ill?"
A pained smile graced her face and she just wanted to grab this man and cry into his chest in happiness. Her voice was a bit strained as she tried to explain. "Hotohori, my dear friend, the future has not fared so well. I have returned to correct some mistakes and right some regrets. Unfortunately, every time I change my past, I feel the pain that seems to be a piece of my soul being torn away from me. But I don't mind if I can save my friends and our two worlds, then it's all worth it." She reached out a hand and gently cupped the side of Hotohori's face. She could hear the startled gasps of the soldiers behind her due to her being so forward as to touch their great emperor, but she didn't care. A tear did finally escape her eye as she explained, "It has been so long since I have seen you alive and well. I… I don't really don't know what to say…… I…..I…" and she gave in to her instincts and threw herself at her long dead friend and cried like a child of 15 into his warm, breathing chest.
She had not been there when Nakago had dealt the death blow to this courageous man before her. It had never seemed real, even when she saw his ghost in her world. She would stare at her Polaroid of all of them and feel as if they were still together, somewhere, waiting for her. She could not go through those deaths again. She would not let it happen. She would rather die herself than let another of her friends sacrifice themselves for her, or because of her. She whispered to herself in a voice that she thought was too low for anyone to hear it, "I won't let you die again. I won't. You deserve to live with your wife Hoki and your son and be happy." But Hotohori had heard. He was shocked.
It was several minutes before Miaka could get her crying under control. It has been so long since she had allowed herself to grieve that it had built up to a point where she couldn't just ignore it anymore. She pulled herself off of Hotohori's ruined robes and grinned in embarrassment. "I'm sorry. I think I ruined your robe." Hotohori ran his hand under her chin and forced her to look up at his loving eyes, "Silly Miaka. Silk can be replaced, you can not. Now are you ready to tell us what has transpired to bring you back to us?"
As she opened her mouth to explain further, the air in the throne room swirled with color and a popping sound. Again the pain exploded through her chest as she watched Chichiri materialize before them. This must be another change in her past. She managed to not hit the floor this time, but a whimper was torn from her throat. Hotohori wrapped his arms around her tense, sweating form and tried to comfort her.
Chichiri took in the sight of his emperor holding someone who was impersonating Miaka, whom he had just left, and he jumped to the wrong conclusion. "Highness, get away from this imposter!" and Chichiri struck an aggressive posture, poised to attack.
Hotohori gripped Miaka tighter since he had already had his questions about her identity put to rest and commanded, "Hold. This is not an imposter. She was about to tell us how it was she found herself back in our world." Chichiri looked dubious but would do as his emperor commanded.
Slowly, Miaka breathed a sigh of relief as the pain subsided. She looked around at the men surrounding her and noticed the doubt in Chichiri's eyes. She grinned like she had done something devious and nodded at him, "So, you are here to let Hotohori join his beloved Priestess in the hunt for the other warriors?" Chichiri's mouth dropped open, and she was sure if he wasn't wearing his mask, that his one good eye would have popped open in shock. She leaned conspiratorially towards Hotohori and said in a loud whisper for everyone to hear, "I don't think he believes it's me." And winked.
Hotohori settled her on her feet and turned to those in the room and announced, "We shall retire somewhere more conducive to speaking in private." Miaka frowned and tapped a finger to her lips and suggested, "How about the garden? I particularly loved the gazebo over the pond." So, it was decided to move the gathering to the garden. Half he detachment of guards were dismissed and the Lieutenant and 5 others moved to guard the Emperor in the garden.
Miaka sat on the edge of the wooden deck and dangled her feet into the water below, trying to trick the coy to nibble at her toes. She started her tale in a hushed voice. "As Hotohori knows, I have been gone from your world for nine years. The girl you were traveling with this morning is me, but a younger me. I have all her memories from our time together, and of things to come. But my world has been totally destroyed. There is no one left alive other than me." She stopped a minute to fight off the tears that threatened. She did not look back to see the shocked faces of her two friends or the nearest guards.
"I did not know why I was spared the same fate as my family. I only know that all life ended, and the Universe of the Four Gods book suddenly reappeared. I figured there must have been a reason. So I tried to think of a way to prevent the destruction." She pulled her foot out of the water and swiveled around on her bottom to face the others, and lean back against the banister of the deck. "I found a way to rewrite my story around the adventures of my younger self to change the things that should not have happened. I intend to summon Suzaku to correct some things so that all seven of you might join me in my world to protect the future, like Tamahome did." The pain stabbed her again, and she struggled to not let it show on her face, though the men knew what was happening. "That is, if you want to. I think it would be better to say, that you will all have the option if you want to." She turned to address Chichiri, "As you might have noticed when I do or say something that changes my past, it pains me a bit. I assume that the closer I get to my goal, the more things will have been changed, and I might not be able to endure the pain to complete my task. As such, I wanted to ask one of you if you might help me." She turned her eyes down to the water again in doubt. "I know you are fighting your own battle right now, and gathering the warriors is paramount to saving your world, but I could really use help."
Chichiri and Hotohori exchanged glances and Hotohori explained, "You know we would help you do anything we could. It matters not if you are the younger Miaka, or the older one. You are still our Priestess, and our friend." Miaka smiled like she was looking at a buffet, and launched herself at her two friends, and squeezed them in a group hug.
Suddenly, Miaka broke the embrace and turned to the soldiers. "Oh, which one of you has my bags?" When one stepped forward, she rushed over and pulled out her fanny pack. After a bit of fuss, she pulled out the yellow legal sized sheets of paper that had her outline on it. She looked at some of the papers, and suddenly exclaimed. "Oh! Oh! One of you needs to get back to Miaka! It's almost time for her rescue."
She struggles with the fanny pack and pulls out the envelopes addressed to Hotohori and Chichiri. She looks concerned about doing this, but then hands them over anyways. As she expected, the pain shot through her. After a minute to regroup, she explains. "These are instructions on some things that need to happen if I'm not successful. If Miaka can successfully summon Suzaku, then most of this won't be necessary. If she can't, then this is what you need to know to fix things. I can't tell you more. I don't want to change too much."
She looked around as the guards and suggested. "I think you guys shouldn't call me Miaka or Priestess. It will be confusing. Not to mention what it might do if Kutou finds out what I'm doing. See, there's an alternative way to summon Suzaku. We had to use it in my past because we made some mistakes. I'm hoping you can summon Suzaku the normal way, and then I can use the alternative. You could call me Mia. It's an old nickname of mine from childhood. That way we know exactly who we are talking about."
She started walking back to the throne room. "Now, Chichiri, one of you needs to get going. In my past, you returned to the palace because you knew how much Hotohori wanted to accompany Miaka and protect her while Tamahome was away." She bowed her head and scraped a foot on the ground and mumbled to herself, "Stupid macho warrior who thought he knew better. Caused more problems than he solved. Stupid, stupid man!" Her friends recognized that she wasn't really angry, just upset.
She turned back to her friends and clasped her hands together in a praying manner, "I really need to ask which ever one of you does not return to Miaka to accompany me on my journey. There will be some obstacles that I cannot overcome alone. And I'd rather not simply travel with soldiers that I do not trust. In these times, men do not seem to take kindly to a woman giving the orders, and I'd rather not fight for control on every decision."
Hotohori and Chichiri studied each other as if they were making their decision mentally. Did being Suzaku warriors bestow on them that type of power? And if so, why didn't she have that talent? She had at one point in the past, wielded all seven powers as their symbols burned on her body. She didn't remember that particular trait.
It's finally decided that Hotohori will ride out to save the younger Miaka, and Chichiri will create an illusion to remain in the palace while he accompanies Mia (the older Miaka) on her quest. She has not leaked too much information to her friends out of concern of changing too many things. But, as Hotohori is preparing to mount his horse and have Chichiri magically transport him to where he needs to be, Miaka gently pulls the younger man aside. She looks up into his beautiful golden eyes and sighs quietly. It was a pity she couldn't love this man as he deserved to be loved. She tries to explain, "You need to know that she does love you, but not like you deserve to be loved. Tamahome has stolen her heart, and she can't take it back to give to you." She gently places a hand on his cheek to soften the blow, "But she will always care for you and will grieve deeply if anything happens to you. I will also grieve if anything happens to you. Please, be careful. You are not indestructible, even though you like to think you are." And she hugs him with a reminder, "I'll probably be here when you get back. Oh, and you need to know. Do not trust the flute player. He is not a real Suzaku warrior." Pain, again. This was getting old. She lifted her head back up after a moment and continued, "The real Chiriko will show up later on the day of the summoning. Do not let Miaka throw the scroll into the fire until this imposter is removed. Oh, and don't kill him. Imprison him or something, but don't let him die. A horrible chain of events will occur if he dies."
Then she took a step back and smiled at her knight in shining armor. Though she really wished he'd get rid of that weird little pill box hat. It made her think of a music box she had as a kid where you open up the lid and it plays music while a plastic ballerina twirls around. He needed something more masculine. Maybe a baseball cap? Or a white cowboy hat like the good guys wore in those old Westerns.
He mounted his charger and turned to Chichiri to begin the spell. He smiled back to her and wished her a safe and quick journey, then was gone into the swirling magic.
Chichiri morphed his image into that of Hotohori, and began commanding the ministers and the Generals to prepare for "Lady Mia's" journey. She had requested Lieutenant Kunai and the guards from earlier, since they seemed to respect her, and knew a bit of what was going on, and what was at stake for her. No point in informing new people and risking a leak to the enemy. There was also a pair of really huge, muscle bound soldiers who looked like they could be sumo wrestlers. Miaka knew they would be needed to remove the boulder that Nuriko had turned aside just before he died in her first trip to this world. Mia clenched her jaw and thought to herself, there is no way in Heaven or Hell that Nuriko is getting within 50 miles of that mountain! With any luck, they could travel fast enough to recover both Shinzaho and return before the others. At least, before Tamahome returns to fight Hotohori.
Mia giggled as she watched the fake Hotohori swish about, giving orders, and being otherwise charming. Chichiri must really be enjoying himself if he's hamming it up this badly. Lieutenant Kunai was the only other person who knew this was a fake Hotohori, as the real Emperor had given him explicit orders on how to care for this woman who was to journey about with one of the Suzaku seven. Kunai was not aware of the whole truth, but had overheard enough between the throne room and garden to know that this woman was an older version of the current Priestess of Suzaku that had come from another world to save Konan. As such, she was much more precious than even the younger version of herself. She had knowledge that if lost, could spell the end of their world. It was a shame that she would go unknown on this journey. There would be no tales sung by bards of her adventures. There would be no cheering or parades. There would be no recognition, except by those who were trusted to be discreet.
Mia had been given a soldier's uniform from one of the younger recruits. The plan was to keep citizens from noticing she was female at all. This illusion was helped by her recently chopped off hair. That way there could be no mistaking her for the priestess. Spies were everywhere in these war torn times, and she had remembered how Nakago seemed to know every single thing they were doing. The group of 16 would ride hard and fast, imitating a band of reinforcements, headed to the front lines. Even Chichiri would wear a uniform and toned down his hair a bit so he was less recognizable. It wasn't a fool proof plan, but when was anything she came up with fool proof? She snorted at her self and tried to readjust the front of her soldier's shirt so her breasts were not so constricted. Not that she had much there anymore. Not eating properly for so many days, or was it weeks, would do that to a woman's assets. But, what was there was getting really chafed by the rough material. She'll have to find a silk undershirt, or something later on to help her skin. Maybe, she could just keep her own clothes under these baggier clothes. That would solve the problem. So, in her mind, she decided on a wardrobe adjustment at their first stop. Right now, all she wanted was to get on the road! The sooner they reached Hokkan, the sooner she could head to Sairou. And this time, no mangy wolf is going to steal what she works so hard to get! With a snort, she looks to make sure Lieutenant Kunai has included the two archers from his detachment that would take care of any mutant wolf/warrior that might happen along.
So, after the fake Hotohori had made all their arrangements, and replaced himself with a totally illusionary Emperor, Chichiri mounted his horse and waited for all of them. Mia mounted her lovely, prancing war horse, and feared that she might not fare any better than Tatsuke with communicating with these fearsome animals. One of the handlers had warned her that properly trained war horses could inflict as much damage on an enemy as a squire with a lance. These horses were trained to rear up on their hind legs to lash out with the front legs at the enemy. They were trained to leap up into the air to move their rider out of danger. They were even trained to jump full force into the middle of a pack of enemy soldiers and kick out front and back legs. Needless to say, Mia felt a bit intimidated on the broad back of her grey and white dappled gelding. She sucked in a breath as the giant head of the horse turned back to sniff at her boot and she wondered if it was going to sample her foot to see if she was tasty. The black eyes of the horse looked at her small frame sitting on its back, and seemed to settle down. Was it possible for a horse to be smart enough to know she knew nothing, and was scared to death? Apparently so, since her horse followed along with Kunai's and Chichiri's horses without her having to do a thing other than hold on. This was going to be an interesting few days.