Right, sorry about that holding the story hostage thing. Guess it's not going to work. Future chapters will come out once every few days. I'd love it if you'd check out my author profile and read the sample chapters on my website. Thanks.
Book Two: Why I Should Have Learned to Use ChopsticksConsigning Mamoru, Petunia and that innocent-looking little book to a far corner of hell, I covered myself as best I could, and averted my gaze. This couldn't possibly be happening. I closed my eyes, hoping that when I opened them again I would be back in Petunia's library, fully clothed. No such luck. The two men gawked, chopsticks lying useless in their bowls. One of us had to end this, but I didn't want to expose myself any more than I had already, and those two looked content enough to just sit there forever. Just when I was about to suck up my embarrassment and demand that one of them offer me his cloak, another figure appeared in the clearing.
It was extremely tall, masked, and dressed entirely in black. The short sword at his hip and the longer sword on his back did not look exactly friendly. I backed up. I had a moment of fear that the Kojin had already found them and I had landed in the middle of a trap. That fear was roughly eradicated, however, when the apparition pulled off his mask and cloak, staring at me incredulously.
I had no doubt in my mind that this was Mamoru. From what I could see in the flickering firelight, he had longish black-blue hair that fell disarmingly into his forehead. His eyes looked black, but I thought that they might be a dark blue in better light. His face was long and masculine, but the shadows across it made him look mysterious, if not forbidding. After a moment's pause, he strode to the campfire.
"Who are you?" At the sound of his voice, I started. It was deep and sexy, but that wasn't what surprised me.
He spoke a completely different language, but I understood it anyway. I opened my mouth to respond, wondering if he would understand me as well.
"My..." I trailed off, surprised to hear an entire other word leave my mouth. Was I speaking their language? I tried again. "My name is Serena," I said.
"Why are you here? How did you find us?" he asked, his body tense. How was I supposed to answer that? I decided to ignore his questions at least until I could find something to cover myself with.
"Listen, I can explain everything later...do you have anything I could put on?" I said.
He had the grace to look away momentarily. "How do I know that you're not an enemy?" he asked.
I rolled my eyes. "You're pretty lucky if your enemies are stupid enough to appear naked and unarmed in the middle of your camp. It doesn't exactly sound like an ideal method of infiltration to me."
He smiled reluctantly. Bending down, he gently placed his cloak around my shoulders. I shivered slightly when his fingers brushed against me. Feeling a little more secure, I looked up again and realized that his eyes were most certainly--and disconcertingly--blue, framed by incredibly thick eyelashes.
He sat next to the other two men and leaned back, his eyebrows delicately raised. His attitude did nothing to make me feel more comfortable, but I persevered.
"You are...Mamoru?" I asked. To my embarrassment, I stumbled over his name. He sardonically corrected my pronunciation.
"Yes. These are my friends Ashitare" he gestured to the man with the long queue, "and Genro," the bald one, apparently. "I assume you meant to find us," he said with a barely concealed smirk.
I grit my teeth. I was really going to have a few bones to pick with Petunia when I got back.
"Yes," I said, studiously ignoring the unstated question. "I...have come with a warning," I said. Now, how exactly was I supposed to phrase this? Even as I thought about it, my rationale for coming here sounded increasingly pitiful. In my haste to find him, I had barely spent any time thinking the situation through logically. And now, here I was, in the middle of another world, naked, with the most insufferably condescending man interrogating me. At this point, I wasn't even sure if I wanted to save him.
He watched me with amusement, although his two companions regarded me with slightly more credulous expressions. I could tell, however, that they were growing a little bored with my silence. I was going to lose my audience in a second.
" I received a..." Come on Serena, use your imagination. "Vision!" I said triumphantly. I could judge by their expressions that they were not quite ready to kick me out in the cold just yet. So far, so good. "Minions of the Kojin wait for you at the Fugira pass," I continued, my pronunciation not failing this time. My voice took on more sonorous tones almost automatically, and I could see the others sizing me up with more respect. Ashitare and Genro exchanged worried glances, but Mamoru was skeptical. I glowered at him.
"You will be allowed to the enter the pass, at which point you will be surrounded and captured by ten armed and masked men. The Kojin has given the leader...Ushiro," I remembered the name after a short pause, and congratulated myself silently, "a magical amulet to block the only possible escape route to your west."
"If this is true, Mamoru, we can't possibly go through the pass! It's far too dangerous," Ashitare said.
"Hold on, Ashitare," he said, his eyes still firmly on me. Genro moved as if to speak but Mamoru silenced him with a gesture. Still wearing that half-smile, half-smirk, he walked over to where I sat and offered his hand. I took it reluctantly, and he pulled me to a standing position. I was careful to hold the cloak tightly around me, as I did not want to give a repeat performance.
"Thank you for your information...Serena," he said. His words were polite but there was definitely an undercurrent of mocking humor.
"But, it's unnecessary," he said. "I already know."
---------------------
I stared at him, my expression of disbelief mirrored by his two companions. He already knew! I found myself possessed of a strong desire to throw the kind of temper tantrum I thought I had grown out of since the third grade.
"Youknow?" I said, my voice rising querulously. He looked at me for a moment, and then began to laugh. At the sound of his deep voice booming with mirth through the forest, I lost what little self-control I had been exercising up to this point.
"I can't believe this!" I said, my anger temporarily silencing him. "I did not go through all of this just to be told by some smart-ass like you that you already know!" I wasn't sure quire how "smart-ass" was translated, but from his expression I had obviously landed upon some suitable equivalent.
"I almost died!" I stalked back and forth before the fire, waving my hands in the air for emphasis. The three men stared at me, stunned. "I cast a stupid spell that was so dangerous, and I don't even know how to cast spells, just so I could save your stupid, worthless lives! And here you tell me that you already knew? I...I..."
I stopped. Quite unexpectedly, I wanted to cry. I had experienced such a brief moment in the rosy glow of heroism, imagining myself the recipient of Mamoru's grateful thanks, a harbinger of peace and justice to this world. Now I knew my true measure: a worthless message-carrier, already the bearer of old news. I knew that my eyes were sparkling ominously, and I bit my cheek in an effort to keep from crying. I would die before I allowed myself to display that final weakness before Mamoru. It may have been an absurd burst of pride that I didn't fully understand, but I clung to it resolutely.
I ceased my ravings and stepped closer to him. I was surprised to see an expression of remorse cross his face. I realized, quite irrelevantly, that my head barely reached his shoulders.
"I'll leave now, I suppose," I said softly. Would this really be the end of my adventure? I couldn't believe it, but it seemed that there was no choice. I tugged at the cloak to give it to him. I could not imagine a more undignified retreat than one in the buff, but I did not have very many options. He opened his mouth but was apparently unable to force anything out of it. Finally, just before I removed the cloak, he reached his hand and closed it again roughly, looking into my watery eyes with a disconcerting directness.
"No!" he said. "I mean," he said, "at least allow me to...you just can't go out there on your own without any clothes. You couldn't even defend yourself--"
"Oh?" I said, drawing myself up again. For some reason his outburst had restored some of my confidence. "What makes you think that I can't defend myself?"
He rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'm sure you are perfectly capable of defending yourself. Just... allow me to get you some...clothes, at the very least..."
I looked at him angrily. Despite my pride, however, I was not too eager to walk into that dark forest, alone and naked. This world did not sound like my safe, westernized and industrialized home.
"Serena..." With his accent, it sounded more like "Sarina," and bizarrely appealing.
"I
lied," he glanced away. Now it was my
turn to raise my eyebrows. "I did
know that the Kojin was planning something at the pass--"
"How?"
I asked. After all, I knew that he hadn't known a thing about it
three hours earlier.
"Sniff the air. Do you smell anything?" he asked, his eyes firmly on my features again.
I tried to do this nonchalantly, but I couldn't smell much of anything, so I stuck my nose in the air. "Not really," I said.
"You probably wouldn't, since it blends in so well with the natural smell of the woods. But there is a faint smell of peppermint here. The closer to the pass we get, the stronger it becomes. Peppermint is the trace-scent of the Kojin's magic. That's how I knew."
I stared at him, and he crossed his arms over his chest complacently. Magic smelled?
"But..." I said, still intent on wringing out his apology.
He sighed and gave me an appreciative half-smile. "But, I perhaps wasn't sure of exactly what they were planning...I wasn't aware they would block the west pass."
"Mamoru, if you knew, then why didn't you tell us?" Genro finally managed to say, roughly breaking into what had somehow become an intimate dialogue.
"Because when I came back, I was met by this little surprise who told you all anyway."
"Oh," Genro said.
"So, my dear," he said, turning back to me, "I believe that I owe you an apology."
Now, the only reason I allowed this was because he surprised me. I would, however, be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it. In a practiced motion, he enveloped my hand in his own and bowed over it. His eyes never left mine. I couldn't have moved if I tried; I couldn't even breathe. I was overcome with the touch of his lips and the deep blue eyes that held mine captive. I suspected that the moment lasted a bit longer than was proper, but I was not in a position to know; no one had ever kissed my hand before. When he stood up again, he looked cocky enough for me to punch him.
"Am I forgiven?" he asked, his deep voice mocking in its very innocence.
"Yes," I said in a small, breathy voice that I did not even recognize as my own.
Ah, well. So much for pride.
---------------------
Mamoru pulled out a large gray shift from his saddlebags and handed it to me. I accepted it and changed behind a tree. When I reemerged more modestly attired, I felt a little embarrassed about my earlier behavior. He really had gone out of his way to help me; remarkable since he still knew absolutely nothing about me, unless you counted the jumbled mixture of facts that I had tossed out haphazardly during my earlier tantrum. Although he eyed me curiously, he still didn't ask any questions, for which I was grateful. Not as though I would dream of mentioning my friendlier feelings to the man himself. No, his ego was obviously quite large enough without additional reinforcement.
He could not quite keep himself from laughing when he saw me in his shift. It hung all the way to my knees and the sleeves came far over my hands. It was, however, made of a woolen material that made me feel warm for the first time since I had landed there. I smiled self-deprecatingly, and twirled a bit for his benefit.
"Don't I look gorgeous?" I asked, tossing my unkempt braid over my shoulder.
He smiled reluctantly. "It's from up north, the Hokusai region. With your hair like that, you even look like a Hokusai," he said and then changed the subject before I could ask him what Hokusai meant. "Have you eaten?" he asked. I shook my head. Nodding, he pulled two clean bowls from his saddlebag and walked to the campfire. I sat next to him, painfully aware of our proximity. He smelled like horse, sweat and musky wool--not precisely sweet or malodorous, just striking. It did nothing for my composure.
He reached for a small kettle keeping warm on the banked fire and poured something into both his bowl and mine. I took it from him, and then peered curiously at what was apparently my dinner. There were noodles in a broth of some sort with chunks of unidentifiable meat floating within. I grimaced, but then chastised myself. What was I expecting, tea at the Ritz? I was busy looking around for a fork or a spoon when Mamoru handed me two sticks.
I regarded them curiously. What were...oh right, chopsticks. The last time I had attempted to eat with the things had been a year ago, when Master Mehra took a few of us from Tae Kwon Do to a Chinese restaurant. Everyone else knew how to use them, but after an hour of trying to teach me how, even Master Mehra had given up and gotten me a fork.
"Is there something wrong with the food?" he asked, with something harder than sarcasm in his voice.
"Um..." I said. I avoided his hard gaze.
"Tell me, Serena," he said, "I get the impression that where you come from, you probably get all the privileges of high society. The food there is probably much better, I'm sure. However, while you're here, and while I am risking a great deal to let you stay with us, I suggest that you deign to eat such meager fare as this."
I stared at him, stunned for a second. He was genuinely angry.
"Th-that's not it! I...I..." I couldn't say it, I just couldn't.
"I...what?" Mamoru said, sarcastic but also a little hopeful.
I said a small prayer and then blurted out the hateful truth. "I don't know how to use chopsticks!" Mamoru winced even as he smiled.
"Oh...please accept my apologies." I could feel him looking at me, but I was busy making studious eye contact with the ground and trying to hide my blush.
"You really did drop out of the sky, didn't you?" he said, and I could hear a smile in his voice. I looked up cautiously into his laughing eyes. I started to smile as well, despite myself. He placed his already empty bowl on the ground and reached for his chopsticks.
"Just mirror my actions," he said. For close to ten minutes Mamoru endeavored to help make my clumsy fingers mirror his own, with no success. After I had dropped them in my bowl for the fifth time, he leaned back sighing. I stared at him from under my bangs, my hands demurely in my lap. As I sat there awkwardly, my stomach emitted a growl that must have been audible within a five-foot radius. I glanced into Mamoru's laughing eyes and then away again, quickly.
"All right," he said, sighing, " I give up." At first I thought that he really was going to let me starve, and I stared at him with a panicked expression
"Don't worry, I won't let you starve," he said. And to my surprise, he picked up my chopsticks, expertly lifted up the noodles and held them in front of my space.
"What?" Was he actually...?
"Feeding you," he said. "Now, I was under the impression you were hungry?"
Silently I opened my mouth. Even prepared over an open fire in the middle of nowhere with lukewarm water, the food was delicious. I slurped the noodles, closing my eyes briefly to enjoy the flavor. Mamoru stared at me with amusement and admiration."Well?" I said.
"Unbelievable," he said, shaking his head. "How could enjoy that so much? Maybe I should try mine again."
I grinned. Then I opened my mouth wide. Still chuckling slightly, he shoveled in the noodles as fast as I could get them down. In relatively little time I had slurped the entirety of my dinner. I sat back, pleasantly full, and with an abrupt change of emotion, I felt all the relative ease of the past few minutes melt away.
"Thank you," I said shyly, smiling up at him.
"You're welcome," he said. He busied himself with cleaning up the remains of camp, but in less than five minutes, that task was complete. Ashitare and Genro had left the campfire after Mamoru gave me the tunic. Mamoru told me that Ashitare had the first watch this night, and Genro had tactfully retired further afield in the clearing.
Mamoru handed me his cloak again. "You can use that tonight. Don't sleep too close to the fire."
I yawned. "What about you?" I asked.
"Don't worry," he said, smiling, "We must get ready for tomorrow, regardless." And with that curious statement, he walked over to where Genro lay and kicked him awake unceremoniously. I stared after him for a moment, unsure of what to think about what had just happened. In a space of less than two hours, he had impressed me, angered me and...well, had been incredibly sweet to me. I was afraid that if I closed my eyes, even for a second, I would wake up in the library again. I did not want this to be a dream. I had wanted it for too damn long for it to be a dream. Slowly, I sat down next to the fire and covered myself in his large cloak.
It smells like him, I thought pleasantly, just before I drifted away.
---------------------
Awoken before dawn the next morning, I was hoisted unceremoniously on the back of Mamoru's horse, forced to ride uncomfortably close to him, while praying that my shift wouldn't ride too far up my bare legs. We rode in silence for a while, my arms tingling with treacherous pleasure as they gripped his waist. In an attempt to distract myself, I stared at the scenery around me. I had never seen a virgin forest like this one. There was something about the size of the trees, the quality of the light that filtered to the floor, the mystery permeating the entire situation, that overcame me with beauty.
"It's gorgeous, is it not?" Mamoru said quietly, surprising me.
"Yes," I said. While a part of me hoped that he would continue the conversation, he fell silent again. After a few hours, I noticed that we had slowed; the terrain was more uneven and the trees had thinned out. I realized that we must be extremely close to the pass, which reminded me of the original purpose of my journey.
"How much longer will it take for you to go by sea?" I asked, suddenly grateful that he had found out about the attack somehow, even though my help had certainly been negligible. I felt him start under my hands, and he swung to face me.
"We're not going by sea," he said, his hateful eyebrows raised again. Quite suddenly, I felt a resurgence of the annoyance and anger I had felt for him when I first landed.
"What do you mean, you're not going by sea?" I said it in a harsh whisper, but Ashitare and Genro were looking at us curiously. I ignored them.
"Just what I said. Such a journey will take to long, and we don't have that time to spare."
"You know, I had given you some credit for intelligence, but now I take it all back. Do you have a death wish? You know what's awaiting you there, and still you insist on blundering through with a sense of misplaced honor and duty. Your capture and death will do no one any good." Least of all me.
"Genro, Ashitare and I are perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves. We know what we are getting into, and we will just have to take the chance that we will be captured. Their main advantage was that they had the element of surprise. Without it, there is a great deal that we can do."
"Like what?" I demanded. He smiled, raised his detestable eyebrows, and spurred the horse forward.
"You wouldn't understand."
I almost punched him.
---------------------
We argued about it almost nonstop during the next few hours. At one point he asked why I, almost a complete stranger, had taken such an undue interest in his welfare. That shut me up, for a little while at least. I didn't want to tell him about the journal and my world. I had the sneaking suspicion that he would regard my eager reading as voyeurism, not understandable curiosity. Besides, even that didn't explain why I cared so much. So, I tactfully avoided the subject, with myself as well as with Mamoru. The scent of peppermint grew stronger as we neared the pass. My hands tightened around Mamoru's waist even as I argued incessantly with him.
"All right, what do you guys think about all this?" I asked Ashitare and Genro, who had tactfully decided to ride a little behind us. They looked a little surprised that I had ignored Mamoru long enough to notice them, but Ashitare cleared his throat.
"Well," he looked sideways at Mamoru, who nodded his head in what he obviously believed was a subtle gesture.
"While I had my reservations--"
"Listen, lady, we don't have any other choice," Genro interrupted. "I don't know why you care, but this country is dying of the plague. An extra week will cost too many more lives."
My mouth opened and then shut again. Of course, I had forgotten all about the plague in my eagerness to save their hides. They did have a point; their victory would be useless if there was no one left to save. Realizing this, I would have conceded gracefully, had Mamoru not chosen that time to act like a grade-A bastard.
"So, the lady is speechless. I would never have believed it." All thoughts of losing gracefully flew straight from my mind with, I must admit, some relief. I never did like conceding a debate.
"Not speechless, you pea-brained, self-righteous, hotheaded, overblown..." my voice shook and I paused, desperately searching for a final descriptor to fully encapsulate my burgeoning emotions. "Misogynist!" I finished triumphantly, glaring up at him. He was really uncomfortably tall, which gave him an unfair advantage in confrontations like this. And that man, that odious but unfortunately intelligent man, looked at me and smiled.
"That's five," he said. I really wanted to shave those eyebrows of his. "I'm sure I could do better."
"Try," I said.
He looked far too happy to take on the challenge. "Clumsy, nosy, persistent--"
"Wait! That's not a bad trait!"
"In excess, my dear. In excess."
"Why, you...you..." I was suddenly rendered speechless as his deep blue eyes gazed levelly into mine.
"What? Can't think of anymore epithets?"
I turned my head away from him. I absolutely refused to play his games. He laughed in that maddening way of his, and then uttered the words I could not forgive.
"Too easy."
I punched him.
---------------------
Well, it wasn't quite a punch. I realized what I was doing just before it connected and pulled back so abruptly that I heard my shoulder crack. I couldn't stop my momentum in time to avoid tapping his cheek, however, and I suppose that to an observer it might have looked like I had actually decked him.
Within seconds, I felt someone's hands pull me roughly from the back of the saddle, and I dangled from the side of a horse, a knife at my throat. My captor was Ashitare, who had apparently decided I posed a danger to Mamoru.
I felt like a complete idiot. I had never been a master of forethought, but with Mamoru that tendency seemed multiplied tenfold.
"What are you doing here, you little bitch?" Ashitare growled into my ear. I flinched, but was careful not to move too much. That knife was a little too close to my jugular for comfort. Genro, I noticed, had positioned his horse between Mamoru and me, as though I posed some threat even from my incapacitated position. Who did they think I was, anyway? Some sort of evil magician? But, considering what they were up against, I couldn't really blame them.
"Let her go!" Mamoru said, glaring at his two companions.
"But, Mamoru--" Ashitare said.
"I said let her go, you idiots, she didn't even touch me." His voice was a low growl.
He and Ashitare shared a long glance, and at a signal I could not detect, Ashitare conceded and dropped me unceremoniously to the ground. I stared at Mamoru in shock, forgetting the blood that dripped down my neck. He dismounted slowly and walked towards me. I couldn't move; this situation had degenerated from a petty verbal battle into something serious far too quickly. He towered above me, his expression unreadable as I gazed upwards. Deliberately he offered me his hand and I stared at it for a moment. At that absurdly inappropriate interval, I realized that his hands were indeed large, but somehow delicate, different from how I had imagined them in the shower--was it only a day ago? Slowly, I reached for it. While not a normally graceful person, I stood easily, and my hand gripped his even after I had regained my balance.
"Are you all right?" he asked quietly, wiping some of the blood from my neck with his fingers. My breathing stopped.
"Yes." What was happening to me? When had I lost control of this situation, or had I ever had control of it? "I'm...sorry I did that," I said. "It was childish of me."
"No need to apologize. You pulled it, and I wouldn't have blamed you if you hadn't."
His rueful smile broke the spell that had surrounded us for the past few minutes. I breathed in relief, but it was tinged with regret. It had been a stunning feeling, if a little disconcerting.
He raised his voice again with a measure of anger to Ashitare and Genro. "Don't you ever do that again. I have placed her under my protection." His voice was serious, even threatening. Why did he have so much faith that I wasn't an enemy, anyway? After all, I had almost punched him. After a moment's thought, I laughed at myself. It wouldn't make much sense for an enemy to try to incapacitate Mamoru in full view of his armed friends. After an intense moment, Ashitare and Genro nodded silently, and all three mounted their horses. I was about to climb on behind Mamoru when he stopped me.
"It's dusk," he said, "we're almost at the pass. I don't want you to come with us. You're vulnerable, and this is very dangerous."
Dusk already? I had very little time left until the spell ran out.
"You have to take me with you," I said. I saw his skeptical expression and decided that it was time for a little choice acting. I put on my best damsel-in-distress expression. "But, Mamo-chan--" I paused. Where had that nickname come from? My language sense told me that 'chan' was a diminutive reserved for the most intimate of friends or lovers, of which Mamoru and I were neither. Ashitare and Genro snickered at the nickname. Mamoru glowered. All right, keep going, Serena.
"I don't want to be here all alone. Something could come and eat me, and I don't know what I would do..." I pouted a little for effect, rather pleased with my performance. Far from receiving a standing ovation, however, Mamoru laughed. Not mocking, just genuine peals of laughter. I stood there, arms akimbo, looking up in annoyance. This really was not going well.
"Stop it, Serena," he said in between spurts of laughter. Eventually he calmed down. "I suppose I could take you as far as the pass, but after that, you at least have to wait until we defeat the Kojin's men. If we don't...then, just run." I nodded, worried about the implications of failure, but grateful to be tagging along anyway. I scrambled up behind him and gripped his waist. We trotted in silence for a while, but eventually Mamoru reined in, and motioned for the others to be quiet. I opened my mouth to ask a question, but his gesture made me realize that something serious was happening.
Although I had not paid much attention on the ride here, the forest had thinned out completely, and the terrain was growing rougher. Just a little in front of us the ground rose steeply, the path cutting through what looked to be a cliff face. If Mamoru's attitude was any indication, we were probably right in front of the Fugira pass. At a silent signal from Mamoru, Ashitare and Genro dismounted, and tied their horses to a nearby rock. They took a moment to string their longbows before facing Mamoru, who had dismounted as well.
"Mina the gods keep you in this life and the next," Mamoru said, and then, more softly, "Be careful, my friends."
"And you, Mamoru," Ashitare said.
"Remember, if something happens to me..." Mamoru said.
Genro looked rebellious, but Ashitare placed a hand on his shoulder. "We'll go back home. We promise."
I felt a curious lump in my throat as I watched them bow. Then, with a nod Mamoru watched as the near total darkness swallowed his friends. I hoped they knew what they were doing.
Mamoru stared after them for a long moment, and then helped me dismount.
"Hide in there," he whispered, pointing to an almost invisible niche in the rock face.
"What are you planning?"
He shook his head silently, and pointed up ahead. I realized that there were other men, probably not Ashitare and Genro, skulking up ahead. Fear gripped my stomach so roughly that I was afraid I would throw up. Somehow I had the most dreadful certainty that Mamoru would not win. I wanted to beg him not to fight, to just go around by sea, but I knew that I endangered him the longer we lingered here. Keeping my fears to myself, I backed fully into the crevice. He checked to make sure I was hidden, and then spurred his horse forward, riding noisily into the pass.
---------------------
The fact that I had a great view of the ensuing scene proved to be both a blessing and a curse. I had, despite myself, grown attached to Mamoru's fate--after all, it was why I had come here in the first place--and the thought of his death scared me. My stomach clenched in fear when I realized that he had deliberately announced his presence to the Kojin's men. I knew intellectually that this must be part of his plan. I guessed he was distracting them so that Ashitare and Genro had the advantage of a surprise attack. Shapeless figures seemed to peel themselves from the darkness to surround Mamoru. One lit a torch, revealing a group of masked men dressed entirely in black.
"Where are the others?" The one holding the torch asked, and with a start I recognized the voice from my dream: Ushiro.
"We were attacked by bandits two days ago. They were wounded and could not continue." Mamoru's voice was impassive, revealing nothing. I held my breath; I expected that Ashitare and Genro would start their surprise attack very soon. Still, moments passed as the men registered his statement, and I did not hear the thud of an arrow piercing enemy flesh. I glanced up at the ridge where they must have been hiding, and realized why. Surrounded as Mamoru was, it would be easy for one of the men to hold him as a hostage and effectively cut off the attack before it served any useful purpose. If they could be distracted, though...
"I don't believe you," Ushiro said, spurring his horse forward. He raised his sword towards Mamoru's neck, but in a blindingly quick motion the latter drew his sword and deflected the blow. Ushiro gave him an appraising gaze.
"So, you are not a complete fool, after all," he said. Mamoru stared at him, silently, and given his position he could not have been expected to see the glint of a steel blade being slowly removed from a hidden sheath near Ushiro's belt. From my vantage point, however, the situation was clear. In a second that knife would sheath itself in Mamoru's unguarded stomach.
Blood rushed passed my ears, and I tried to think rationally past the terror. There had to be something I could do. Clearly fighting was out of the question--even if the odds hadn't been decidedly against me, I wasn't about to fight armed and mounted men with my bare feet. A mere distraction would save Mamoru's life and give Ashitare and Genro the opening they needed. And then, I knew. So what if it was embarrassing, I thought as I prepared myself. It's worth Mamoru's life, isn't it?
After all, what could be more distracting than a naked woman, running screaming into the heart of danger?
In that second's stunned surprise, Mamoru saw the blade and knocked it out of Ushiro's hand. As for the rest of the men, they raggedly broke formation, and many made lunges at my naked form. After a couple seconds, the overwhelming fear dissipated, and I began to enjoy the adrenaline rush. They were so busy staring at the bouncing of my breasts that they seemed to have lost all coordination, so it was relatively easy for me to evade their grasping hands. In the midst of the confusion, Mamoru stared at me, mouth open, his eyes half laughing, half-angry. All right, Ashitare, Genro, I thought, time to make your move. Almost on cue, I heard the whistle of an arrow through the air, then a thud and a groan from behind me. The shot only added to the confusion, and thankfully took some of their attention off of me. I looked around frantically for another hiding place; they would remember me eventually. Before I could do so, however, I felt hands reach roughly under my armpits, bruising them. He reached for his short sword with his right arm, and held my waist with his left. For the second time that day, I dangled from the side of a horse, cold steel at my neck. This time I was under no illusions about the imminence of my death; it was Ushiro's knife at my throat.
"Stop!" he roared, so loudly that I winced. His order was obeyed almost immediately. No more arrows were fired, but Ashitare and Genro still remained hidden. Mamoru lowered his sword abruptly and turned towards me. Ushiro saw the gesture as well, and tightened his grip.
"One more step forward, and the girl dies. You understand?"
I looked imploringly at Mamoru, trying to tell him to ignore Ushiro. I would leave soon anyway, and I had never meant to make him lose the battle. Mamoru looked, for the first time since I had met him, thoroughly daunted. It seemed as though he had no intention of fighting while Ushiro held a sword to my throat. This couldn't be happening. I had to do something to salvage this situation.
"Put your sword down," Ushiro said slowly. "And tell your friends to come out in the open."
And then, two things happened at once. I felt myself begin to fade, slowly, as if the process of returning was considerably more difficult than coming. Mamoru began to lower his sword. Then I realized that I had another opening, and this time I wasn't going to waste it.
"No!" I shouted, and taking advantage of the fact that Ushiro had lost his grip on me, I elbowed him hard in the stomach and grabbed the sword out of his loose hand as I fell. I only had time to swing wildly in Ushiro's general direction before I felt Mamoru's strong arms drag me over his horse's rump.
"What in hell's name is wrong with you?" His words were angry but breathless. He was fighting off two men at once.
"I was just trying to help!" I said, pulling myself to an upright position while avoiding the swipes of swords. Mamoru might have replied, but another, more formidable, opponent replaced the one he had just dispatched. I turned around to make sure that no one else was attacking, and in the process I glimpsed Ushiro. So, that's where the other men went. He had been wounded, somehow. And then I remembered the sword, still in my numb fingers. Had I done that? I remembered the feeling of my sword biting into flesh before Mamoru grabbed me... and then I had a clear view of his wound. His throat had been sliced raggedly, blood pouring from it in a deadly stream. I gaped in horror, and was almost hit by someone else who had pulled along side us. Mamoru paused long enough to knock off my attacker, but that one moment of distraction had allowed the bigger man's sword through his defenses. The sword slashed through his light armor, leaving a gash on his upper arm. Mamoru grunted, and used his other arm to block the next attack. I could see, however, that he was tiring, and the wound had only further reduced our chances of survival.
Suddenly overcome with an unreasoning anger, I raised Ushiro's sword and, driven by desperation and not skill, shoved it unmercifully into his opponent's stomach. The man grunted once, and then fell off of his horse. Had I killed him?
"Are you all right?" I asked, staring at the spreading wetness on his shirt in concern. He looked at me, but then his attention focused towards the right.
"Ashitare, Genro!" he screamed suddenly. "Run!" And as I strained my eyes through the darkness of the cliffs above us, I thought I saw two figures pause and then scurry away. Then, turning my attention to what had provoked Mamoru's sudden warning, I saw Ushiro standing improbably upright, though supported by two men. Peppermint saturated the air, its source probably the glowing disk he held in his right hand. The green light was bright, and I realized after a moment that this must be the Kojin's famed amulet. At least Ashitare and Genro had managed to escape before he blocked the West exit.
Taking advantage of our distraction, someone roughly pulled Mamoru and me off of the horse. Even as it happened, however, I felt myself begin to fade again, and the power dragging me back to my world was much harder to resist this time. I would disappear any second now. On a desperate impulse, I grabbed Mamoru as we went down.
"I'm leaving, now," I whispered. He stared at me.
"How?"
Hands pushed us upright and swords compelled us to walk forward. "The way I came. I'm not...from this world. Believe me, Mamoru," I said. We were nearing Ushiro, who looked weak, but formidable in his anger all the same. I paled slightly; he would demand vengeance for that wound. Yet another reason to leave this world expeditiously. I stepped forward, and felt myself fade dangerously. Mamoru gasped; he could probably see what was happening, as well.
"Here," he said, pulling something from around his neck.
"Hey! What are you doing?" The man behind us asked, grabbing Mamoru. Just before the other men used that as an excuse to kick him into the dirt, he pressed it into my hand.
"Serena," he said, even as he tried to fight them off, "take that with you. If you can...please..." His voice grew distant in my ears, and I knew I was almost fully in my world again.
"Find me." And that was the last I heard.
---------------------
I sat in the library, naked of course, still gripping something hard and metal in my hand. So, it had survived the trip with me, I thought. I wondered why and then shrugged. My emotions seemed distanced, like I had overused them so much in the other world that now I could barely feel anything. I opened my hands to reveal a circular disk hung on a thick silver chain. On the disk were seven circles, and within each circle was a drawing of some sort. One looked like a horse, another like a dragon, one like a bunny and a few others were unidentifiable. I wondered what it meant, and why Mamoru thought it was so important.
Some of my shock dissipated, and my hands shook with burgeoning emotion. The last I had seen him he had been hurt, about to be beaten by a band of hired thugs. Ashitare and Genro had escaped, but even if they could have done something, Mamoru had made them swear to return to their families if anything happened to him. Which left, I supposed, myself. I thought about Mamoru's last request--plea, really. Find me. How was I supposed to do that? Why did I care so much about this other world and their war? It was getting dangerous, anyway. The bloody cut on my throat reminded me of that.
And, to top it all off, Mamoru wasn't exactly a model specimen of humanity. Relentlessly sarcastic, insufferably condescending, unwontedly vain, he had almost driven me to physical violence and I was ashamed of that, but that didn't make him less annoying. Humanity was better off without him. I had just about talked myself into tossing the amulet into a dusty corner of Petunia's library when a memory entered my mind, unbidden. Mamoru smiling, holding noodles up to my face while I gobbled them greedily. So maybe he wasn't a total bastard. After all, it's not every day that someone feeds you home cooked noodles.
My anger melted away, and I was left with...resignation. I had known that I would help him. It had been a lost cause from the beginning.
Which was, I suppose, why I should have learned to use chopsticks.
(Book Three coming in a few days. Thanks for reading.)