12
Great Victory and Unbearable Loss

Kaoru sat outside her tent, watching the warriors ride in and out.

They were camped along the Big Bend of the Forked River, and the war camp was in a constant state of turmoil. Warriors were sent to trading posts and agencies to barter for better steel for weapons. Others went out in search of fresh war horses. And still others carried the words of the red drake Jomei: "It is war. Come together." Old men went out in search of clothing and blankets, women seemed to be always cooking, because there were so very many people to feed.

Kaoru saw little of Kenshin. He was caught up in the excitement that ran through the camp like chain lightning as well, infecting everyone it touched. Once, she saw Jomei himself. In human form, he was short and had a broad, flat face that showed little expression. His hair was turning gray. When she heard him speak, she knew why the drake people were so willing to follow him. He was a powerful orator.

It really was to be war.

Kaoru stood, watching Kenshin, her heart cold as yesterday's ashes. He was going to fight, and nothing she could say would change his mind. He sat astride the big black gelding, looking every inch a warrior from the solid expression on his face to the sword at his side.

He was going to fight.

And this time, so was his master, Hiko. Kaoru watched the master ride up to Kenshin and they exchanged a few words. Kaoru looked from one man to the other. They so rarely spoke, but before she had a chance to wonder what they were saying, war cries went up from the drakes and the Wild People. The armor drakes roared with fury it seemed their human bodies should not have been able to handle, and the fur drakes howled, long and steady, like wolves. Men picked up whichever cry they favored most.

Many dragons had already taken up their Purest Forms for battle. More and more warriors had gathered around, dust swirling around the hooves of their horses. Dogs entered the melee, barking wildly as they dodged between the dragons and ponies. Little boys and pups picked up the war cries, their voices loud and shrill, eyes wide with envy when they saw their fathers and brothers, and a few mothers and sisters, preparing for battle.

If the women were worried or apprehensive, it didn't show on their faces as they waved farewell to their men. Their eyes were filled with pride, voices carrying on the breeze.

Jomei raised his long, membrained wings over his head. "Let's go!"

Kenshin was one of the last warriors to ride out. For an instant, just before he followed Jomei, Hiko and the others his eyes met Kaoru's and all the love he felt for her shone clearly there. And then he was gone.

That looked haunted Kaoru all that day. Once, Kenshin had offered to take her home and she had assured him that she would never willingly leave him, that she wanted only to be where he was. She knew now, as she watched him ride off into battle, perhaps never to see him again, that she still felt the same. She had let her foolish fears ruin their last few months together. She had slept in a cold and lonely bed when she might have been resting in his arms. And now she had let him go off to war without telling him that she loved him. If he died, she knew she would suffer guilt and remorse the rest of her life. If only she had at least kissed him goodbye.

At loose ends, she wandered through the camp aware of the stares of the women, aware of their inner turmoil. They weren't really so very different from herself. They looked after their children, wept when they were sad, loved their mates, revered their old ones, laughed and danced, mourned for their dead. They were an honorable people, living in the traditions of their ancestors, hoping and dreaming that things would be better for their children.

She saw the worry lurking behind their eyes as they waiting for their husbands and brothers and fathers and mothers and sisters to return from the battlefield, saw the lines of anxiety in their faces, heard it in their voices. Watching them, she felt a bond of unity with these women, and with all women the world over who had spent the long, lonely hours waiting for a loved one to return from battle.

Retracing her steps to her own tent, Kaoru curled up on her bed and willed time to move faster. The waiting, the wondering, the not knowing was almost more than she could bear. Was he all right? She imagined him wounded and bleeding, his face twisted in pain; pictured him dying, dead. Please. Please bring him safely back to me.

A triumphant cry drew her from the brink of sleep. Scrambling to her feet, Kaoru hurried out of the tent to see the war party swarming into camp. It had been a wild and bloody battle, as evidenced by the number of wounded. The fight had been a victory! The Enemy had fallen back to the Fowl Creek where they had left supplies to lick their wounds and regroup their men.

Kaoru was standing a few feet from her tent when Kenshin rode up. He was grimy with dust and sweat, his deep purple eyes still filled with battle, with the victory. He looked wild and savage and when he swung effortlessly from the back of the black horse, she was able to get a good look at him. He was completely unharmed.

He stood before her a moment, just gazing at her, and then, with a small cry, Kaoru hurled herself into his arms.

"Beloved," Kenshin murmured thickly, gripping her just as tightly as she gripped him.

"Kenshin! Don't let go," Kaoru begged, and blinked back tears as his arms tightened around her. "I've been such a fool."

Kenshin smiled as he lifted her up and carried her downriver to a secluded spot well away from the camp. Kaoru clung to him when he would have set her on her feet.

"I have to wash," he said, chuckling softly.

Blushing, Kaoru nodded as she slowly slipped her arms from his neck, reluctant to be parted from him for even a moment. She watched as he stripped. Her eyes moved over him inch by inch, ascertaining for herself that he was truly unhurt.

Her nearness and the heat of her gazed sparked an entirely expected result, and she laughed softly.

"Are you laughing at me?" he mock-demanded, advancing toward her.

"No," Kaoru said. Reaching out, she let her hands touch his firm, slim shoulders and solid chest. "I'm just so glad you're all right."

Kenshin loosed the ties of her deer hide robe and let the garment slide down around her ankles. "Come. Bathe with me, Love."

She would have followed him anywhere. Kaoru let him pull her into the river. The water was clear and cold, but his hands quickly warmed her as he washed her from head to foot, his hands lingering on the slender curve of her neck, moving across her ribs, then spanned her waist and drew her close against his chest. With a sigh, she laid her head against his shoulder as waves of happiness rolled over her. He was here at last and she was in his arms again.

He whispered her name and she lifted her face to his, her whole being quivering with joy as she saw the love mirrored in his eyes.

In one fluid motion, he lifted her in his arms and carried her from the water. Ashore, he sank down on the ground, still holding her, his mouth trailing tiny flames as he kissed each inch of her face, and all the while he was murmuring to her, the throaty words like the sweetest music she had ever heard, like a fur drake's contented purr. Gently, he placed her on her back on the ground, then stretched out beside her, eyes on her face, hands wandering over her damp, skin, familiarizing himself anew, recalling the places that would make her tremble beneath his fingers.

Impatient, she twined her arms around his neck and drew him toward her. The months they had spent apart had now added an urgency, as did the knowledge that Kenshin could have been killed and this joyous reunion might never have been.

Later, after the reaffirmation of their love and a renewed pledge of the vows between them, Kenshin held her close, stroking her hair. Two wars had been won that day, and each victory was sweeter for the battle fought and won.

Kaoru assumed that the victory meant the end of the fighting and they could return to their village again and live in peace.

But it was not to be. That was merely a battle, when there was a whole war to be fought. The war camp prepared to move, their destination the valley between the mountains of the Old Home.

Kaoru couldn't help being caught up in the excitement of the move. She had never seen anything like it. She stared in wonder at the beauty around her as they made their way through the northern foothills. The grass was as high as her horse's belly. As far in the distance that could be seen, the Shining Mountains, their snowy peaks rising in stately splendor against the sky.

Jomei rode at the head of the long caravan, the warriors riding next, mounted on their best steeds. Following them came the women and children and the pack horses, and lastly, came the vast pony herds.

Rather than leave it all unprotected while they fought, they had simply packed up everything and everyone and brought them along. It was a long, noisy parade that stretched for three miles from end to end. Kaoru's heart was light as they traveled along. The terrible gulf between herself and Kenshin had been bridged at last. Last night, Kenshin had possessed her fiercely, passionately, masterfully, vowing again to never let her go. And she had gloried in his touch, reveled in his strength, in the way he subdued her so skillfully.

To please him, she had discarded her old clothing entirely and now simply wore the deer hide robe she had made. Her hair was pulled away from her face and tied back with a length of blue ribbon in the manner the drake women favored. Now, riding toward the Old Home, she felt very loved and very Wild.

She was unprepared for the sight that awaited her as they topped a tree-studded rise and saw the river spread below. Hundred and hundreds of tents were situated in the valley , housing more people and dragons than she had ever dreamed existed.

"Never have so many of us been together in one place," Kenshin remarked, reining his horse beside her. He gestured upstream. "Those there are the ones who have lived in the mountain. See how much more pale they are than everyone else?"

"There must be thousands," Kaoru said.

"More than four thousand of fighting age. Perhaps two thousand are seasoned warriors."

Maybe the drake people could win after all? "Who are they going to fight?"

"Saburo," he said, his voice growing a little harder.

Saburo had once been a boy-general, but he was no longer a boy. He was a man, with decades of experience in tactics and war. A popular commander among his people and well-hated among Kenshin's. He had slaughtered a peaceful band of Wild People on the banks of the Forked River in the dead of winter, then burned their homes and slaughtered their horses. Kaoru had learned that from the campfire stories.

"When is he coming?"

"Soon."

"You're going to fight." It was not a question.

"Yes."

She nodded. She had known this the entire time, and she had resolved to accept it without an argument. But it was hard. So hard.

There was great excitement in the days ahead. Men constantly coming and going, scouts arriving hourly with reports of the progress of the soldiers, and then the announcement that Saburo was on his way.

Kaoru's resolve failed miserably and Kenshin held her all the more tightly that night.

"What's wrong, Kaoru-dono? Why are you crying?" he asked gently.

"I'm just afraid for you, Kenshin."

His lips pressed against her forehead. "You mustn't be so afraid."

"I can't help it. I love you so much, Kenshin."

"Do you?"

"You know I do."

"Then show me," he murmured huskily. "Show me now…"

Lovemaking was bittersweet that night. Kaoru poured out her heart and soul, wanting Kenshin to this time carry the memory of her love with him into battle. She clung to him, drawing him closer, her hands caressing every inch of his flesh, the narrow span of his shoulders, the length of his flanks. Her eyes never left his face, for that, too, had to be committed to memory, just in case...

Kenshin held Kaoru all through the night, folding her close, lips repeatedly finding her eyelids, her nose, her mouth, and her throat. He didn't have any sense of impending doom, but he knew that it was possible he wouldn't return from the battle. Saburo was a fighter.

He didn't sleep that night. Long after Kaoru had drifted off, he remained awake, watching her sleep, needing to feel her there beside him. She whimpered, plagued by a bad dream, and his arms tightened around her as he murmured to her, assuring her that all was well.

Many warriors didn't sleep with their women the night before a battle, believing that it might drain their strength, but he needed to feel Kaoru close to him, to draw on her love, to breathe in her sweet scent one last time, just in case…

It was late in the afternoon when the New People's General Saburo rode down the slope across from the Old Home where the last of the Forked River trailed off to become a stream. Had he managed to cross the river beforehand, the outcome might have been different. But before he could reach the hide-tents at the lower end of the foothills, hundreds of angry Wild Warriors on horseback and dragons in fire-breathing Pure Forms swarmed in front of him, and before his regiment could retreat, half of Saburo's men lay dead or wounded on the slope.

And then Jomei's group, including Kenshin and Hiko appeared on Saburo's left flank. Saburo retreated up the slope with the remainder of his command, fighting valiantly all the way, until they were crushed beneath an angry red wave. In less than an hour, the Newcomer commander and all his men were dead.

Kaoru learned the details of the fight long after it was over. Standing beside her tent of animal hides, she saw the warriors returning, the look of victory shining in their eyes. Jubilant dragons raised mighty wings and roared or howled their victory. Finally, they had paid back their tormenters, even if it was only for a single battle.

Kaoru waited for Kenshin to return, and when he didn't, she assumed he was with the warriors who were still trying to flush some of the men out of the trenches they had dug on a distant hill. That fight continued until nightfall, and then the remaining dragoners returned to camp.

And still there was no sign of Kenshin.

Kaoru wandered through the celebration, her eyes searching for red hair. Over and over again she asked if anyone knew where he was, and always the answer was the same: no one had seen Kenshin since the fight.

She wandered through the camp for hours, her insides growing cold as more time passed.

It was after midnight when she located Master Hiko, only to find that he had not only not seen his apprentice, but had also been wandering about in search for him as well.

"We fought side by side for a time," he said, "but then we were separated. I haven't seen him since."

Dread choked her so that she could do nothing but clench her fists.

Hiko's mouth twisted as he watched her. Then he said, "Our dead have all been brought back here. He wasn't among them."

"Then where is he?" she said hoarsely.

Hiko shook his head. "I don't know where the idiot is…" His voice softened some as he added, "But I'll keep trying to find out. Go on back to your tent now."

The last was a gentle but obvious command that reminded her much of Kenshin as she made her way back. Small groups of warriors could still be seen gathered around the campfire. Young men who were still alight with the euphoria of battle.

Kaoru slipped through the tent's flap, curled up on her bedding. Her hand stroked the place where Kenshin usually slept next to her. Where could he be? Why didn't he come to her?

In the morning, the drake people launched a fresh attack on the men still in the trenches. The assault lasted into the afternoon, and even while the warriors were fighting, the women and children they had left behind were dismantling their camp. Scouts had seen Enemies riding toward the valley and they had to move out. All the victory to be had in this place was theirs, and it was time to go.

Kaoru fought down the urge to panic as she watched the drake people begin to leave the valley and head back to their homes. Kenshin's group was going back to Himura, and those who wished to go back under the mountains were already on a good head start.

She stood still, feeling lost and alone, when Hiko came to her. She had only to look at his face to see that he brought bad news.

"Is he dead?" she asked quietly.

The master shook his head, repeating the same words she had heard years over and over again yesterday. "No one has seen him, and he's still not among any of the dead."

He let that hang there a moment.

Kaoru said, "Do you believe he's dead?"

"No apprentice of mine would die so easily in a battle such as this."

This was an absence of a yes or no answer that would have, under ordinary circumstances, been an even greater comfort than if Hiko had simply said no. And yet, somehow the words hurt more, sent a terrible numbness over her heart that seemed the same as if he had said, "We must assume he was killed."

She wondered why for a bleary moment before it came to her that the more honest answers she was looking for were more in the haggard form of the man before her, one who had spent a night sleepless before the fight, and another sleepless night picking through the dead and wounded for his missing student. He masked his fears excellently in his arrogant statement, but that was all that it was, a mask. He was frustrated that he couldn't find Kenshin, and even more frustrated that he couldn't stay and keep searching, not with a fresh army breathing down their necks. There were women and children to be protected, wounded to get to safety…Hiko could not stay and face the new troops, and, as unlikely as it seemed, his own death would help no one, least of all Kenshin.

"You have to decide what you want to do," he said after a few moments. "We have to leave here. Are you coming with us? Not only are you Kenshin's wife, but the village is fond of you…they'll make sure that you're provided for if you choose to come back to Himura. Or I'll see you safely back to your people, whichever you prefer."

So, there it was, in those sentences. Kaoru had not been there. She didn't know what a mighty battle it must have been, in dragon fire and bullets and bloody swords. Hiko must have thought Kenshin was dead, since it couldn't be for any reason short of that that he wouldn't come back. He would be back by now if he was all right. It was as simple as that.

"I don't know," she whispered in answer to his question. She didn't want to stay here alone, but she didn't want to leave either.

"If you want to return to your people, the soldiers will take you back."

"Yes," Kaoru said at length. "I think that's what I must do."

But the words sounded so strange, like they came from another's throat. Go back? Why? How could she go back to her aunt and uncle after what she had done? They would never understand her love for a Wild Boy. And if not back to them, then where else could she go?

But it was also as certain she couldn't go back to Himura. Not without Kenshin. Similarly, she knew she would never be able to lay eyes again on her beloved canyon. The places of such endless joy, each and every time she discovered a new smile of Kenshin, the spot on the floor of Taura's cabin where she had discovered her fearsome warrior of a husband was ticklish and proceeded to exploit the weakness mercilessly, the waters where they bathed together, the hard-packed paths around the village where they would both go walking, his smooth and soft voice telling little anecdotes, memories from a happy little childhood under the care of his big sister.

How could she go back?

She watched Hiko walk away, and then, sick at heart, she returned to the tent she had shared with Kenshin for the last, wondrous night.

She thought of all the time she had wasted, the months she had spent lost in her confusion for the dragons' animalistic characteristics and their connections to Kenshin. And she was so ashamed.

Hiko escorted Kaoru to the foot of the hill where battle-weary men were dug into the land. She had changed into her old shapeless kimono, packed a few belongings into one of Kenshin's war bags. Out of good manners, Hiko had helped her mount the roan, then swung aboard his own horse, not even sparing the soldiers a glance.

He looked at Kaoru, though. A long look of silence before he said, "You made him smile again. Don't lose your smile, or he won't be able to keep his."

Then he was gone, riding down the valley at an easy gallop.

The soldiers were as hospitable as possible under the circumstances. They assumed Kaoru had been a captive, and she let them believe this because it was easier than for her to explain the truth. It was not at all unusual for the dragoners to release captives back to their people, yet another trait of kindness not shared by the New People.

From the bluffs, she could see the long lines of drake people heading southeast, some of her own heading back to Himura. In the distance, she could see the long blue line of New People infantry coming toward her.

The men she was with stood up and cheered. Many of them wept openly, and who could blame them? They had seen death in the faces and the fiery breath of dragons for two nerve-wracking days and now their salvation was at hand.

Later that afternoon, Kaoru sat astride her horse in the midst of the battlefield, surrounded by soldiers. It wasn't like being with the warriors of the Wild People. She had never noticed before how much better her Wild Boys had smelled, or how much more gentle, more playful their nature was than the roughness or outright bawdiness of her people. Already she missed them. Already, she wondered if she shouldn't have at least tried to bear a life with them, without her Wild Boy.

The soldiers cursed their enemies and their beasts and lamented their losses, but Kaoru was too wrapped up in her own personal grief to mourn for those she didn't know. Kenshin was dead and she knew her heart and soul had gone on ahead with him. This must have been what he felt like on that ride from the plains to Seiyo.

At night, she only had to close her eyes to summon his face to mind. His beautiful violet eyes, his long, soft hair, the warmth of his smile, the shape of his lips.

During the day, she relived the time they had spent together, and regretted again and again the days she had foolishly wasted wondering if she really, truly belonged with him and could accept his ways or not. Now he was gone, and she knew she would never belong to anyone else the way she had belonged to her Wild Boy.

She was back in Seiyo. The army went on to the fort and Kaoru rode into town. She had some money, but it would not last forever. Sooner or later, she would have to look for a job, or go back to Uncle Shiji.

She had tethered her horse to a hitch rail and was walking toward the inn when none other than gray-eyed Ataru fell into step beside her.

"Good afternoon, Kaoru-san," he said. His voice was cool and businesslike.

"Ataru-san," Kaoru murmured. She came to a halt, becoming somewhat apprehensive. Did he mean to arrest her for helping Kenshin escape?

"Where is he this time?" Ataru asked flatly.

"He's dead."

He cocked his head to one side, expression skeptical.

"He was killed at Shining Mountains," Kaoru said, fighting the urge to cry.

Ataru grunted softly. "What was he to you, exactly?"

"My husband," Kaoru answered proudly.

"Husband! No holy man in his right mind would marry a decent woman to a Wild Boy!"

"We were married according to the laws of his people."

"You helped him escape, didn't you?"

"Did I?"

"I'm asking the questions here. Kanbayashi doesn't remember a thing that happened that night and he was unconscious for several days. Somebody hit him over the head, you see."

"That's too bad."

"Yeah. Well, I guess it doesn't really matter now that the Wild Boy's dead." Ataru grinned wryly. "Beyond the long arm of the law, so to speak."

Kaoru glared at him. She didn't find his attempt at humor the least bit amusing.

"I'm sorry," he apologized quickly. "Listen, let's start over again, okay?" He smiled at her, gray eyes twinkling.

"All right," she agreed tiredly. She had no friends and she needed one desperately. And Ataru was a nice man, one she knew could be trusted.

"It's almost time for dinner," he remarked, checking his pocket watch. "Would you join me?"

Kaoru glanced down at her kimono, dusty and grimy from the trail. "I don't think so."

Another wry smile as he quickly understood her dilemma. "I could buy you some new clothes," he offered. "You could think of it as a loan, if you like."

"No need. I have a little money." No need to mention Kenshin had taken it off the men he had killed either.

Ataru nodded. "I have some business to take care of," he said, putting his watch away. "How about if I pick you up at the inn in about an hour?"

"Could we make it two hours? I need to shop and bathe and clean my hair."

He smiled indulgently. Obviously he didn't spend much time with women and had forgotten that it generally took longer for them to get ready. "Sure. See you at seven."

Kaoru secured a room for herself at the inn, dropped Kenshin's war bags on the floor beside the bed. She sat there for a long while, staring into space, more depressed than she had ever known a person could be and still draw breath. Kenshin was gone and she would never see him again.

It was an effort to leave the inn. She had lost interest in how she looked or what she wore. Once, being able to shop for her own clothes would have filled her with excitement, but now, what was the point if Kenshin couldn't see her?

But deeply-instilled manners wouldn't allow her to embarrass the kind Ataru-san by going out into public in her ragged, dirty old clothes.

She purchased a simple kimono of blue-sprigged muslin, new sandals and tabi, and a white ribbon for her hair.

Then, dressed and with her hair freshly washed and brushed and tied up, she stood before the mirror. She might have thought she was almost pretty. It was the first article of clothing that she had ever chosen for herself, and it fit wonderfully. But there was no pleasure. Kenshin wasn't there to share this moment with her, nor any other, ever again.

She tucked a little money inside her clothing, shoved the rest of the currency into the bottom of the war bag. She had been astonished by the amount of money Kenshin had collected there. Apparently, the men who had tried to kidnap her had been successful in their chosen line of work.

Later, sitting across from Ataru in the town's finest restaurant, she reflected that she had no experience with men other than Kenshin and her brief encounter with Kamishi, and she felt a little uncomfortable for it. What were Ataru's motives? Why was he so nice to her?

Kamishi himself would have seemed like a nice young man if one didn't know of his darker side. If one hadn't seen the way he had smiled when he refused Kenshin water, or when he tied her beloved red-headed Wild Boy up to beat him. Kamishi had only wanted one thing from her. Was it possible that Ataru was cut from the same cloth?

They chatted amiably for several minutes. Kaoru studied him. He was handsome, but not nearly as handsome as Kenshin. His hair was dark brown and waved over his forehead. His features were clean-cut. Like Kenshin, his eyes were one of the most arresting features about him. Deep gray, open, and friendly.

They ate in companionable silence, and then, over dessert, Kaoru asked the question that had been plaguing her all evening. She had little practice in the art of flirting or playing the coquette, and the question came candidly and unexpectedly.

"Why are you taking such good care of me, Ataru-san? We hardly know each other."

Ataru looked startled for a moment, then he shrugged. "You're alone. Far from home. And I find you quite the most beautiful woman I've ever met." His eyes smiled into hers. "And I'd like to get to know you better. Much better."

Kaoru's cheeks turned bright red at his bold words and admiring gaze.

Ataru grinned. "I can't remember the last time I saw a woman blush. It's quite becoming."

"You shouldn't say such things, Ataru-san."

"Why not? They're true. I thought about you a lot after you left. I trailed you for a while, but then I lost your tracks. Even so, I couldn't stop thinking about you." He leaned forward and placed his hand over hers. "And please, just call me Ataru."

Kaoru met his gaze squarely, then dropped her eyes to the table where his hand covered hers. His hand was large, with long fingers and neatly manicured nails. It looked strong resting on hers. But there had been another hand, a hand she wanted more desperately to be pressing its weight over hers. A much smaller and more slender hand, a hand that was skilled and lethal, and yet so soft and tender when it touched her.

With a sigh, she lifted her head and met Ataru's eyes. "I'm very flattered…Ataru," she said honestly. "But you're wasting your time."

"Don't turn me down before I've had a chance to please my case," he admonished, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "I just want to be your friend. Nothing more."

Kaoru looked skeptical. "Nothing more?"

He grinned. "Nothing more," he said sincerely. "For now, I'd just like the chance to get to know you better." He paused, studying her face. "You loved him, the Wild Boy, didn't you?"

"Yes. I don't think I'll ever love anyone as I loved him." Her eyes grew moist, and she didn't even try to stop it. "Perhaps I'll never love anyone again at all."

"You will, in time," Ataru said quietly. "And I want to be there when you're ready."