Chapter Four
Engagement on the Road
"I didn't know you could make that expression Clare." Yura seemed to find the stunned look on Clare's face very amusing.
"You said that in jest, then?" Clare was slightly upset. She took his behaviour at her and Raki's reaction to mean that he said what he did to get that response.
"Not at all. But you do make a very funny face when you're shocked." Yura tried very hard to stifle another round of laughter. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'll give you the basics. Though the specifics of this should probably wait for another day."
"Agreed. We have been here too long already." Clare was getting impatient. It was well into the morning, approaching noon. She had hoped to meet up with her contact with the organization in a few days, but she wouldn't make that appointment anymore.
Not that it mattered. Any number of things could delay travel, so a couple of days delay would go unquestioned.
"Let me begin, then." Yura smiled with happy memories. "As the years go by, I change the appearance of my disguise to appear to age, and every sixty years or so, I orchestrate an approximation of my own death, and begin a new life in the image of a young man, about twenty or so, and move on to a place where no one would know my name.
"Her name was Melanie. I met her in my first life, not long after I first took human form. We were the same age at the time, and were workmates before anything else, and she became my first human friend. We worked as simple labourers. I understood that work was needed to live amongst humans, and we first linked up as a matter of convenience, as young Yoma did with each other, but without the violence.
"I helped her appear to do more than she did, not that she did little, but me, being what I am, had energy to spare, and she shared the spoils of that."
Yura laughed at that, not in humour, but from the remembered elation of the time. "I learned of kindness from her, and learned to reciprocate it. We became good friends quite quickly.
"A decade later, we married, and the next twenty years of my life were very happy. There was a short break in that when she found out I was a Yoma, but let's not get into that, if you don't mind. That splitting did rectify itself within a year, and we were happy until old age finally claimed her, at eighty five."
"Did you have any…kids?" Raki looked both curious and disgusted with that concept.
Yura looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Do you think it would even be possible, hm?"
"No, I suppose not."
"Well, there you go. The rest of my life was spent reasonably well, but never matching up to that first period. Some of it was spent in one place, where I made friends, worked as an employee, or invested and became an employer. Other times were spent travelling as I am now."
Yura sighed. "Not all of the travelling was good. I had several encounters with bandits, and as I mentioned before, I managed to beat them all off without fatalities. I also met a few of your people, Clare"
Out of respect, Yura avoided using the term "Claymore" whenever possible. In their organization, the half Yoma, half humans that hunt Yoma are known by name and ranking amongst their own ranks. "Claymore" was a term created by the commoners who feared them. The name was based on their large swords. Some of Clare's people were offended by the term, so it was best to not use it.
Yura continued. "Some discovered that I am a Yoma. Over the centuries I managed to escape three, and had to kill two lest I be killed myself. I still feel bad about that, but I have gotten better at hiding my Yoki since then."
"So I've noticed." Clare continued to sit patiently, but her impatience was becoming evident.
"Moving on, I took a special interest in cooking when I was young, and that career was a mainstay for me more than anything else. I was surprised to find that cooked meat is generally just as good for me as raw, and better tasting most of the time. Though, I do need some fresh, raw meat on very rare occasion, or I start suffering malnutrition.
"In fact, I just got off a job as a chef before I met you. Was thrown out, more like it. Sad but funny story there, a young child came into the kitchen, and asked to try some of the food. I gave him a small piece of meat, and wouldn't you know it, he started choking."
"Was he alright?"
"Oh yes, yes no need to worry. I popped the meat out of him before he died, but not before he passed out. He was breathing after I got the meat out of him, and in my relief, I hugged the boy, and patted him on the back.
"Just my luck, the family walked in then, thought I was trying to abduct him, and before I could get a word in, they were up in arms, and chased me out of town." Yura chuckled in embarrassment. "A couple days of walking, and I ran, quite literally, into Raki. And that concludes the story of my life."
"That was pretty unfortunate." Raki had actually heard something about this in town. He heard a man complaining about a chef who got driven out of town. He thought it sounded very odd, but gave it little more thought.
"Yes, it was. I'm not going back there for a long time. Now, to the question at hand. Do we move on, go our separate ways, or do you feel it necessary, Clare, to continue where we left off yesterday evening?"
Everyone tensed at the question, including Clare. She was supposed to kill Yoma wherever she encountered them, especially when it was a request. No one had requested Yura's death, but he was still a Yoma, wasn't he?
And there she found her answer.
"As it relates to the organization, I would not classify you as a Yoma. Though you share the same origin and form, your behaviour leaves room for some interpretation on that definition. I will not kill you now, but if the organization were ever to order your death, I will have to accept that."
"Fair enough. Now, out of curiosity, where are you headed?"
"A small city called Charrow." Raki said. "Clare has a request to take care of there."
"Well, it seems we needn't part ways so soon after all, if you don't mind of course. I'm headed to the same place." Yura smiled broadly. He hadn't had company this pleasant in a long time, and was pleased that they had opportunity to travel together.
Better yet, he had no need to hide his nature from them. He never acted strongly against his nature, but even so, playing the part of a small, vulnerable human got tiresome after a while.
"I don't have a problem with it," said Raki. "But it's really up to Clare."
Clare thought about how to phrase the next sentence carefully. Letting Yura live was one thing, but taking him on as a travelling companion was something else.
She didn't mind. She hated to admit it but she was starting to like Yura. The organization, however, might not forgive her that action. "Given your nature, I can't condone your travelling alongside us, but I can't stop you from travelling the same road."
"I understand, and that's good enough for me. On to Charrow, then?"
Clare nodded. "On to Charrow."
It took the crew a little while for the crew to pack up. Yura had to finish packaging the boar, and Raki needed to pack up his own cooking supplies and bedding. Clare just had to sheath her sword and start walking.
By noon, the crew was packed up, and on the move. Clare was in front, and Yura and Raki walked a little bit behind, discussing cooking techniques. Raki learned several interesting recipes, and Yura was surprised to have learned a few tricks from Raki too.
Eventually the terrain changed, and conversation died off, and the only sounds the group made were their footfalls, and the tapping of Yura's walking stick.
As they left the mountains faded into the distance, and sparse forests and grasslands took their place, Raki and Yura just ran out of interesting conversation, and Clare still didn't want to talk to Yura yet as a matter of principle.
Though she did keep some reservations, Clare had quickly gotten over feeling entirely distrustful or Yura. She had never been much of a conversationalist anyway. By sunset, the three were simply walking in companionable silence.
They settled down for dinner just a little ways off the road, but within sight of it. The sun was just touching the horizon. Dinner was simple that night. Leftover pork and fish heated over the fire was all that was available.
"No luck today. A long walk and not a thing came up worth cooking. A rabbit or some sort of edible root would have been nice. We didn't even find a game hen."
"It's not so bad, Yura. At least the leftovers are still good." Raki tore a big chunk off of his meat and started chewing.
"There is that at least. I had the pig's innards a few days back, so I won't need raw flesh again for a couple weeks."
Raki grimaced slightly. "That seems wrong, to me, eating raw meat. Especially if it's the guts."
"Ha, you really think so? What do you think they wrap sausages in? A length of pig intestine is what." Yura shrugged. "And humans can't process raw meat very well, so it's only natural that you find it distasteful. But marinated in a nice broth, uncooked meat takes on a lovely texture and flavour. I'll prepare a bit for you once we reach the next town."
"Sounds…great." Raki and Yura pulled out their sleeping mats, and Clare, tired from not having slept the previous night, plunged her sword tip into the ground, and rested her back against the flat side. The trio quickly fell asleep.
They slept to just past dawn, and were awakened by the sound of hoof beats, just out of sight. The rattle of armour quickly followed it as the horseman approached.
The man rode a large brown horse, plated with armour on the head and flanks. The rider whore no helmet, and had shoulder length black hair. His face was wide, with a squashed nose from several breakings and a long scar from his left cheek to his chin.
His armour was shiny, but pitted from impacts. He had bracers on his forearms and a solid plate of metal over his chest and back. It was well constructed, but looked self-made rather than professional. Under the armour was a simple brown leather outfit.
"Well, well well. What have we here? A kid, an old man and a silver-eyed witch. Fancy stuff all around." The man drew a long, curved sword from a weather beaten scabbard on his left side, and swept the tip back and forth in the direction of the group. "Hand it over, and you live."
Yura heaved a tired sigh. "I hate bandits. Always so cocky, especially first thing in the morning." Yura yawned, and stretched. He then reached down and picked up his old, gnarled walking stick.
"Now listen, I have a proposition for you." Yura pulled a small pouch from the inside of his jacket. He tossed it in the air, and caught it. The pouch made the distinctive sound of jingling gold. "This is about the money you'd get off any other group of travelers. Take it and go, and I won't ask my friend with the oversized sword to bisect you."
"Nice try old man, but I know all about those silver-eyed witches. They can't kill people without getting killed themselves. And that kid looks like he can barley lift his sword. Now, if you're ready to give that much money up easily, you must have plenty more." The bandit pointed his sword at Yura. "Cough it up."
"Alas, I've been found out." Yura grabbed his walking stick with both hands apparently intent on using it like a staff. "But I'm still not giving you my things. My best cooking supplies are in that bag."
With that Yura attacked. He ran right at the armoured bandit. The man swung his sword at Yura, who simply ducked under it, and continued past, running around the horse. He raised his staff high, and struck the horse on the backside.
The animal tore off, straight at a rotten stump in the ground. The horse jumped, and the rider found his face in contact with an overhanging branch. He was knocked into a back flip, and landed face down in the dirt.
Yura slowly twirled his staff in front of him, smiling as he said "The money is still on the table. You can just take it and leave."
The bandit just scowled as he staggered to his feet, grabbing his sword on the way up, putting the tip in the ground to brace himself. He put his fingers to his lips and whistled loudly. Moments after, half a dozen men walked out of the bushes. They were all dressed in simple leather outfits in varying degrees of disrepair. They all had scars on their faces.
Two twin men with rodent-like faces carried short bows, and three shabby-looking, unshaven men carried daggers and small swords. There was a giant of a man carrying a large, double sided battle axe. Yura looked at them cynically as the bandit leader said, "What do you say to that old man?"
"Now that does complicate things a bit," Yura said. "I was hoping they'd stay out of this. Now, if I beat them all senseless, who's going to carry you back to your camp? Or are you so cheap that you nest in holes in the ground?"
Raki drew his sword, and got ready to fight off the bandits. Several of them looked away from Yura and focused their eyes on Raki, thinking a sword in any hands was more of a problem than a stick.
Clare said, with a note of annoyance in her voice, "Don't hurt them."
"Too late for that, witch." The bandit leader scowled, spitting blood from his mouth, a side effect of the branch in the face. "Your pal's pissed me off, and the kid looks ready to do the same."
"First off, Raki is going to sit this out." Yura looked meaningfully at Raki, who sheathed his sword. Yura nodded, "Good. Secondly, she wasn't talking to you."
Yura dashed towards the man on the right, a scrawny man who with a patch over one eye, armed with a pair of daggers and a belt of throwing knives. He swung downward at Yura with both blades. They were easily deflected, one by Yura's staff, and the other by his bare hand.
The knife wielder found a nearly inhumanly strong fist in his face, knocking him into the dirt. The butt end of the staff struck him in the stomach, ending his part in the battle.
Yura turned quickly on his heel, and with a single full rotation of his staff, Yura blocked two arrows from the buck-toothed men near the rear of the bandits. He ran right past the others, ignoring them to deal with the bowmen. They fired another arrow each before dropping their bows in favour of short swords.
Yura ducked under a horizontal swipe, and came within inches of the bandit's body. He thrust his staff straight up into the first man's face, putting him out cold. He used the momentum of his attack to sweep the legs out from under the other man, and kicked in the head, putting him out too.
"This is rather sad," Yura said, shaking his head. "I would have thought you could at least provide a challenge with these numbers. Who taught you to fight? My grandmother could outfight the lot of you, and she's been dead for longer than I've been alive, and trust me, that's a long time."
A giant of a man stomped forward in fury, raising a massive axe over his head. He struck down and hit Yura's upheld staff, but amazingly, the staff wasn't cut. The axe didn't even scratch it. The impact shook the big mans arms as if he'd just struck a rock, but he managed to hold on to the axe.
"Surprised? This staff is very special. I'm not sure what kind of tree it came from, but it grew in an area rich in metal ore, and absorbed a large amount of those materials." He nodded in Clare's direction. "It came from the mine where the remarkable, nearly unbreakable metal that forms their swords is taken from," Yura motioned towards Clare with his head. "So it, like any of their swords, is nearly unbreakable."
Yura, never having broken a sweat in the clash of weapons, angled his staff, letting the axe slide down it in a shower of sparks, and kicked the man in the groin. "You didn't deserve to bear children anyway." The man grunted and keeled over sideways.
Only three men remained on their feet, the bandit leader, and a pair of twins, wielding long, thin swords. A knife flew from the bushes. Yura twisted slightly and caught it in his outstretched hand. "Wondered when you'd join in." Yura threw the knife back in the direction it came from. A loud crack emanated from the shrubbery, and a very bony man collapsed, the imprint of the knife handle between his eyes.
The twins turned tail and ran. "Cowards!" their leader yelled in disgust. Yura ran at the man, striking down with his staff, cracking the bandit leader's wrist and knocking his sword aside. Yura lifted the bandit leader off the ground by the metal collar on his armour.
"Now, this could have gone much better." Yura let the most minute amount of his Yoki slip out, just enough to get his eyes glimmering malevolently, but not enough to give him away. "You will not bother us again. ARE WE CLEAR!?" The last words were deafening, carrying a deep, ferocious rumble.
"Y-yes sir."
Yura dropped the man, slightly altered features reverting to normal. "Good. Now get lost."
The bandit leader ran off into the woods, leaving his battered but not seriously injured comrades behind.
"You all right Yura?" Raki asked, not seriously, but seeming rather amused. He was amazed at the skill Yura had displayed. He had beaten off eight bandits on skill alone. The only ones against whom he had displayed a hint of his true strength were the big man with the axe, and the bandit leader.
Yura looked himself over, snarling in annoyance as he saw the holes in his jacket, made by the throwing knife that he had caught earlier. "No I'm not alright. One of the bastards ripped my jacket. It was expensive too. It was worth it though I suppose. I haven't had that much fun in years."
One of the bandits had come to, and was reaching hesitantly for a sword. Still smiling, Yura kicked him in the ribs for good measure. The bandit grunted, and lay still again.