Dawn awakened many thoughts and confusing emotions. Morning meal and saddling up is quiet, too quiet for Zhang Liao. Though, Lu Bu normally doesn't start a conversation unless he requires knowledge on a topic or has something to say about a matter he finds important. This worries Zhang Liao. Wouldn't Lu Bu find last night important?
Something strangely and perhaps almost wonderful had happened. Nonetheless, perhaps he merely misunderstands Lu Bu's intentions. No… he is quite certain. Just thinking of it gives him an anxious feeling. He is over evaluated himself in ridiculous thoughts. Turning a small action into something bigger. Though… that's how it starts doesn't it? Something little slowly growing?
Lu Bu still seems to ignore him anyway. Red Hare keeps him quite ahead of Li, though. Ever few moments Liao can feel the Flying General's brief gaze upon him. Sometimes he can meet the regard, sometimes he can't. Most likely to make sure my wound hasn't exhausted me, Zhang Liao assures himself.
The farther the pair travels the roads the more awkward the silence seems to feel. Perhaps Zhang Liao is only feeling this, or Lu Bu neglects to notice. He almost feels childish for remaining behind his Lord. Since last night he hasn't been able to speak a word. It is as though Lu Bu's lips have sealed his voice. The thought is foolish, of course, and merely a ridiculous excuse not to attempt conversation. And one that brings the faintest of blushes to Liao's face, though he quickly ushers it away. What to speak of what, though? All Zhang Liao can think of is last night. The scene keeps playing over in his mind.
Li's snort, like a disapproving murmur, causes Zhang Liao to force himself to spur his steed next to Lu Bu's. Lu Bu acknowledges him with a glance, but Liao can barely bring himself to do the same. He has to say something, anything. What if Lu Bu thinks he despises him for what he did last night by the light of the campfire? The thought troubles Liao, but what troubles him more is he actually didn't mind what Lu Bu did. What if I like him? The self-question comes to him so randomly, he finds himself shocked he is even contemplating such a consideration.
"You're quiet," Lu Bu notes unexpectedly. Zhang Liao nearly jumps in surprise, but manages to refrain himself. Silently cursing himself, he replies, "Just deep in thought… I suppose we will be coming upon the allying forces soon."
"What are you thinking about?" Lu Bu asks, ignoring the statement. The question is most unexpected. Zhang Liao takes a few silent moments to answer. What should he say? The truth? No… what would Lu Bu think if he was dwelling on the thoughts of last night? But wouldn't be he offended if he completely neglected to think about it? "Did... did… last night," Liao finds himself saying with much difficulty. This seems to make Lu Bu notably tense. Zhang Liao instantly begins to curse himself for bringing it up. Of all the responses!
Silence passes over them. But this silence… it is so deep, so thick, Zhang Liao feels as though the only thing he will ever hear will be the sound of their horses' hooves. He wants to apologize, but he would only babble and make the situation more awkward. Sometimes he can understand why Lu Bu prefers fighting to politics. A blade seems to speak more easily.
Forbid all this awkwardness! This flustering, silence, and worry! Lu Bu and him had known one another for so long. Gestures, expressions, tactics of the other known without doubt. Something such as near kiss shouldn't falter their relationship. Kiss. The word makes Liao's cheeks burn each time without abate. A simple gesture that carries so many words…
"Apologizes…" Zhang Liao says, "I just…" he sighs. What is he trying to say now? Talking without a purpose is what he's doing. He looks at Lu Bu, hopping for something in response. Lu Bu nods, no more. At least the tenseness seems to be gone from them. Perhaps conversation will not be so hard now. "Do you plan to defeat Zhang Jiao?" he questions, hoping to prove it so.
"Should we find him, yes. The useless maggot should no better then the worms he commands," Lu Bu retorts. The great warriors voice betrays his eagerness of the thought: to slaughter their leader. Zhang Liao nods. "Should we—" he pauses midsentence. Something shuffles upon the road ahead. "Did you see that?" Liao questions nudging his horse forward. Lu Bu trots forth to inspect with vigor.
Pulling back on his reins, Zhang Liao decides to wait. The road twists right. Thick thorn bushes hinder sight beyond the turn. Lu Bu makes the turn, disappearing from Liao's sight. Remaining stationary and silent, he listens for his lord. All he can hear is the patterned thumping of Red Hare's hooves. They grow more rapid and father away.
Rustling shuffles bushes behind Zhang Liao. Wheeling his horse around the warrior watches the spot with growing edginess. Further rustling partakes to his far left. Turning to inspect this, he still does not see to whom the noise is coming from.
There. A flash of a body moving. Only those trained in the ways of stealth could make such movement… assassins. Reaching for his axe blades, Liao is cut short. A black-attired man stands at his horse's rump. A hideous blade aims itself at Liao's vulnerable throat. The man's face is masked, as the rest of his head, but something tells the warrior that the assassin will not kill him.
The man gestures for Liao to dismount. Slowly doing so, Zhang Liao holds his hands tense at his side. Another pitch black uniformed man leads Li out of his reach. Glancing towards the twisting turn, Liao sees no sign of Lu Bu returning.
"Tell me Zhang Liao, you and that dog didn't actually think you could runaway from you master?" That voice. Zhang Liao freezes, muscles rigid. Only after the reclusive pain that urges its way into his shoulder, does he force himself to relax… somewhat.
A sharp laughter bellows from behind him. Turning slowly, as not to appear threatening to the assassin, Zhang Liao's eyes confirm his ears. Dong Zhou. Of course… who else could laugh so maliciously, stink so profoundly, or chase betrays so vigorously? He is not alone. A small legion of men stands ready at his flank.
"Tell me, Zhang Liao," the warlord sneers, "how will you get my forgiveness? Grovel at my feet, pledge alliance, or give yourself to me?"
"I do not and will not serve you," Zhang Liao replies assuredly in voice, though his mind races, "I serve Lord Lu Bu, and only Lord Lu Bu." Annoyance twinkles in Dong Zhou's eyes. "I did not give you a choice of who to serve," he spats furiously. "That dog will die dishonorably, as such treachery deserves." Zhang Liao's face tenses. The arrogance to speak of Lu Bu as such! "Lord Lu Bu is not a dog! He is a masterful General! None shall defeat him," Zhang Liao finds himself hotly voicing, "especially not a dishonorable swine such as yourself."
The last harnesses of Dong Zhou's temper break. Dismounted in a brisk fluent motion, despite that one would think his size would disable such, the warlord strides towards Liao. Standing firm, Zhang Liao barely flinches when a hard smack to his cheek splurges pain across his face. Words cannot even form for Dong Zhou to express his humiliation and ferocity at words spoken harshly by a subordinate General. Actions, however, can.
Still bodily able to defend himself, Zhang Liao dodges the next smack and pushes Dong Zhou back. The assassin from behind him moves forward to restrain him, but he is aware of the man's presence. Kicking the man's knee, he turns briskly narrowly avoiding the blade. Dodging the blade was simply luck, but no need to cause misfortune upon himself by remaining dumbfounded. Grabbing the blade, Liao breaks the man's hand by snapping his arm with his own arm. Despite the knee to his chest, Zhang Liao still manages to plunge the dagger into the assassin's vulnerable chest.
"Restrain him! Restrain him!" Dong Zhou orders, while backing away. Fear does not grip the General. If he must die, so be it. Though… did he truly say such words so passionately of Lu Bu? Strange that those are my last thoughts, he thinks to himself. However, as soldiers begin to rush forward, they stop suddenly. Hesitation. Though Zhang Liao remains unwavering still he wonders why they stopped. Taking pride in being a formidable, loyal, steadfast warrior even in desperate situations, Zhang Liao knows that he truly cannot look that menacing. Standing alone with a cruelly bladed sword, is he truly causing their hesitation?
The define sound of horse's snort fill the suddenly silent air. A smile finds itself upon Zhang Liao's face. Lu Bu. As soon as the name comes to him, the thundering hooves behind him sound ever loudly. Flying past his comrade, Lu Bu charges forth into the ranks of the peons.
In the carnage Dong Zhou mounts hastily. Retreated back down the road from hence he came, he disappears behind a bend. Only the occasionally blur of his retreated form can be seen threw the dense brush and trees.
Yanking an ax blade from his saddle, Zhang Liao thrust the weapon in the assassin's neck where shoulder and spinal cord connect. A shrilly-short scream erupts from the figure, before it falls limp the ground. Blood blossoms from the wound, soaking the black uniform and ground in deep red.
Dislodging the ax, Liao grasps Li's reins to mount. He hurries to the saddle watching as Lu Bu spurs Red Hare. Together the magnificent red stallion and his rider thunder down the road in pursue of Dong Zhou. His intent on killing the warlord is all too obvious. To catch up to Red Hare is a foolish assumption, but Zhang Liao spurs Li to follow nonetheless.
As he takes the winding turn to follow, he sees only settling dust. Neither Li nor his spirit settles for waiting. They ride hard. Going down the road in which they traveled for the greater part of the morning is rather discouraging, but remaining by Lu Bu's side is of the greatest importance.
Another bend, then another. Still no sign. The dust as already cleared, leaving Zhang Liao with the presumption that Lord Lu Bu is farther ahead than he can ever hope to catch up to. He reins Li to a slow walk; there is no point in exhausting the mare.
Lu Bu is a proud, fearsome, extremely battle worthy warrior he need not worry of the man's safety. Yet, the lingering feeling does not pass. Pulling Li to a stop, he listens for hooves, for anything. Nothing. A resounded quietude fills the forest.
Thoughts fill his mind. What if Lu Bu doesn't to return? What he doesn't get to share more moments with the General he has come so fondly familiar with? Zhang Liao sighs. Lu Bu has been gone for only a few seemingly moments and here he sits worrying as though he has been gone for hours.
The want for revenge must fuel strong within Lu Bu. Galloping off to kill the tyrant that threatens Liao's being a most disturbing way. The thought is flattering. It brings a single quiet word to his mind. A word that had been hidden away for so long it almost feels like foreign expression. Love.
"Love," he whispers. It slips off his tongue smoothly. It feels awkward, yet so right. A word is so simple, yet the feelings so complicated. Could it truly be? No… he must be mistaken. But what word would better describe?
Apologizes for the unnecessarily long delay. This chapter took forever to write, though. I must have rewritten the thing three times! Please review and let me know if all the time I took resulting a good piece.
Thank you for the reviews! I read and enjoy them all :)