The Wind and the Void (28 page)

The People were far more important right now. As he and the old man had traveled, the old man had kept him abreast of events happening far and wide. The People were spreading out quickly, as the plan had asked of them. But although they spread quickly, there were still challenges and struggles. The clans had lost far too many good people coming into this land, and though they would be stronger for it, they still needed all the help they could get.

Nameless thought back to his days when he had been much younger, when he had both seen and experienced far less. He thought about his days roaming the land, going from clan to clan, seeking to aid them however possible. A slight hint of a smile played upon his lips. Those had been long and grueling days, but he had lacked the care and concern that he carried with him this season. He had simply gone from place to place, doing all that he was able, moving on when there was no further need of him.

It occurred to him there was no reason why he could not relive those days. He was a demon-kind, and although for a time he had led the clans, that time was now over. His duty was no longer to lead, but to serve.

The more he thought about the idea, the more merit it had. He wanted to be remembered well, and if his decision to lead the clans into this new land would be controversial, perhaps the least he could do was to help those of his people who needed it.

Nameless had always been decisive. In a few moments, his course was settled. He knew what he would do, and his heart felt much lighter. He would find the clans and help as he was able, living off the land as he had in his youth.

Nameless decided he would follow the river to the west. From the maps he carried, he knew that a mighty confluence of the rivers was only a few days’ walk away. Water was sparse in Azaria, and he marveled at the opportunity to see two great rivers come together into one monster river. Perhaps along the way he would find a clan and ask if they needed help.

With a smile on his face, Nameless went on his way.

Chapter 22

Akira studied his cell with a great deal of curiosity. He suspected the small building they were in had been designed as a storehouse. The walls were thick and sturdy, and there were no windows to the outside world. When he examined the door he saw there had never been any way of locking the door from the inside, so he could guess that the building had been designed to keep things in. Assuming that taking prisoners was a new tradition for the monks, it made the most sense to believe they were in a storehouse.

Although Akira spent a substantial amount of time evaluating his surroundings, he could see there was no way they could effect a stealthy escape. If they were going to get out of here on their own power, it would have to be when someone opened the door, and from the caution the monks had taken with them, Akira was certain it would be a long time before that plan worked.

They had been stripped of what weapons they had soon after being thrown in the cell. Although the room was dark and time had no meaning, Akira assumed it was about mid-afternoon when one of the monks came in with a bowl of soup and some rice for each of them. Akira studied the monk’s entrance carefully, having already decided that if they were going to escape these times were their only chance. The monks knew it, too, and took precautions. While one of the monks brought in the food, another was at the door, and Akira could see there were two behind him as well. If they were going to escape they would have to fight their way out, and Akira wasn't sure they had the strength, particularly without weapons.

Once he had decided escape was unlikely, Akira spent his time wondering about the events that had transpired. He was surprised by how not surprised he was by the accuracy of Ryuu and Moriko's reports. He had hoped they would be wrong, but he had suspected the monasteries of duplicity for some time now. Many cycles ago, he had been warned by his advisers that the monasteries were becoming too active in local politics, but Akira had bigger worries on his mind and had brushed the concerns off. He hadn't concerned himself about the small, petty deals the monasteries made. Now he wondered if he had been wise in overlooking those acts.

He sighed. There was nothing to be done about it now. The monasteries had made their choice, and he had to decide how he was going to react. He wondered idly what the plan of the monks at Hope could be. It was a small monastery, and had little strength or renown on its own. Akira also had no idea what type of authority the Chief Abbot had entrusted the other abbots with. Would they try something here at Hope, or would they send him to the Chief Abbot in the old Western Kingdom?

As Akira pondered, Yuki worried. Though Akira could just barely see his outline in the near perfect darkness of their cell, it was clear from the sounds of the guard's frantic pacing that he was frightened. Akira tried to reassure him.

"Have a seat. You're making me nervous."

Yuki sat down, but Akira's respite was short-lived. Soon, the soldier was up again, pacing back and forth. When he spoke, Akira could hear the hint of desperation in his voice. "What are they going to do to us? We’re outnumbered and have no weapons."

Akira frowned. His honor guard consisted of the best trained and most competent troops of his kingdom. For one of them to start to crack so easily was concerning. "Rest yourself. What is it that concerns you so?"

"My king, give me an enemy I know how to fight, and nothing will stop me. My blade is sure, and should I be disarmed, my hands and feet are just as effective. But these are monks. For all the skill I possess, I am not sure I could best any of them in single combat, much less the dozen that stand between us and freedom."

Yuki helped Akira to understand. Akira had never held the monasteries in high esteem, but he was unique in that regard. They were heroes of the people. They had a power completely separate from his own, and they owned the hearts of his subjects. That was why they were able to get away with what they did, and people would thank them for it. For a moment his mind wandered to the bigger problems facing him. If he was going to break the power of the monasteries, he had to figure out some way to break the power of their hold over his people. It was a hard question, and one he didn't have the answer to yet, so he focused his attention on the present.

"They are good fighters, but they can be bested. I have seen it happen."

The last part was a bit of a lie. He knew monks had been defeated, and knew that a nightblade like Ryuu held the monks and their training to be worthless, but he had never actually seen a monk defeated. A part of him was curious to see it happen.

The soldier seemed calmed a little by Akira's words, but still he paced. "My king, I always believed I would die on the battlefield, but this is too much to bear."

Akira shook his head and then realized Yuki couldn't see the motion in the darkness. "I do not think you have much to worry about. This is a small monastery, and I doubt they will take any action rashly. I expect that Captain Yung will resolve the situation soon.”

Akira's demeanor finally calmed Yuki, and Akira laid his head down to get some rest. If nothing else, this was an opportunity for him to get some much-needed rest and relaxation. He only hoped that rescue would come soon.

Akira wasn't sure what time it was anymore. It felt as though the two of them had been imprisoned for days, but the rational part of Akira's mind knew that not even a full day had passed. But whether it was now night, morning or midafternoon, Akira had no clue.

He fared better than the young soldier who was with him. Perhaps it was his age, perhaps it was his experience, or perhaps it was his unshakable faith in the captain of his guards, but he did not pace endlessly the way Yuki did. After a while, he gave up trying to convince the young man to relax. They were certainly in danger, but there was little they could do about it, and it was no use worrying about what they could not change.

The cell was a very quiet place. The thick walls muffled the sounds coming from outside, so Akira was surprised when he heard a bell ringing. He couldn't tell how far away the bell was, but he suspected it must be close. He smiled to himself. A bell could mean a great many things, but he suspected it meant the captain of his honor guard was finally on his way.

After the bell rang, Akira placed his ear by the door of their cell. Although the sounds were muffled, he was able to make out the dim sounds of the monastery in confusion. He could hear shouts, some of which sounded like commands, and others that sounded like panic taking root. He frowned. There was a possibility he didn't want to consider, that perhaps the Azarians had already made it this far north. He pushed the thought aside. Either way there was nothing he could do except wait calmly.

After the initial turmoil died down, there was little that Akira could hear. He gave up his post at the door. Whether the alarm was due to the Azarians or to his own captain, Akira assumed they would come for him soon. When they did, he didn't want to get knocked on his tail when the door opened.

The waiting was the hardest part. It was one thing to wait when one knew they might have to wait for a long time, but to wait when something was happening right outside was its own unique form of torture.

It seemed like half the day had passed, although it had probably only been a few moments, when the door to the cell opened. Akira was blinded by the early morning light streaming through the door. Standing in the door was a tall silhouette that Akira immediately recognized as Captain Yung. Never before had he been so grateful to see the captain of his guards.

It was Yung who spoke first, "I think I've come to rescue you."

Akira noted the sarcasm in his captain's voice, but he was so glad to see him, he played along. "You think?"

Captain Yung nodded. "Yuki is definitely free to go. He listens to orders. I've spoken with the monks, and we have come to an understanding. I'm only bringing you out of here if you agree to listen more closely to my suggestions in the future."

As Akira's eyes adjusted to the light, he looked behind Yung. The courtyard was filled with his honor guard, and many of them had blades drawn. He could guess the kind of understanding they had come to. He smiled at his captain. "I cannot guarantee I will listen much better, but I will certainly make an effort."

His generally stoic captain laughed. "Well, that will have to be good enough for now. Come on, let's get you out of here."

When Akira stepped out of the cell, he took a long look around the courtyard. His men held their position well, forming a corridor of safety leading to the main gate of the monastery. It was clear Captain Yung had decided this was going to be a smash and grab operation. Akira was supposed to walk out and his guards would follow.

As tempting as the idea of simply leaving the monastery was, Akira paused. Even though he had had plenty of time to think while he was locked up, his thoughts had never wandered past what would happen after he was rescued. He looked around at all the people who had come to the monastery seeking shelter and had only found pain and servitude. Akira couldn't stand to see his people treated in such a manner, and now with his honor guard here, he felt compelled to take some action.

But he wasn't quite sure what he should do. He could order the deaths of the monks, but he was afraid of the repercussions of such an act. The monks were strong fighters, and although it looked as though they had peacefully allowed Akira's honor guard to enter, if their lives were at risk they might fight and kill many of his men. Not only was Akira disturbed at the prospect of losing some of his men, he couldn't stand the idea of any of his people killing each other when there was a much greater enemy camping a hundred leagues to the south. His short visit had also reminded him how revered the monks actually were. If he took direct, violent action against the monks, there was no telling how the people would react.

He could also order the monks bound. There was a slight chance of resistance, either from the monks or from the people seeking shelter in the monastery, but it was a much more attractive option than killing them. But then they would have six additional mouths to feed, and there was a good chance the monks would use their skills to act as a beacon to bring other Azarian hunters to their location. Akira shook his head. No matter how fast he thought, he couldn’t think of what to do with the rebellious monks.

Captain Yung had been about to remount his horse when he saw his king stop and think. "Sir?"

Akira looked up at his captain. "I cannot leave my people here to be forced into servitude by the monks. They deserve better, especially in these trying times, but I do not know what to do."

Akira watched as Yung thought through the problem for himself. He could see the veteran trying different ideas and discarding them, just as he had moments earlier.

Akira decided to put the question to the people. If he did not know how to save them, perhaps they had some ideas. He raised his voice and spoke. "My people. All your eyes are open, and you can see what is happening here. The monks make you work night and day, with little rest and little food. When your rightful king comes within these walls, he is detained like a common criminal instead of king over all the land. But I do not know how best to help you. I do not know how best to ease your suffering."

He let a silence settle over the monastery. For a moment, it seemed as though the Abbot of the monastery was going to speak, but Akira stopped him with a stern gaze. The people would have to make their own decision, not influenced by the rhetoric of the monks.

The silence dragged on, and Akira wasn't sure any among the people would ever speak up. Had they become this afraid? Akira looked from eye to eye, trying to catch the gaze of just one who would stand and speak. But one by one, each person averted their gaze.

Finally, a woman stepped forward. Akira took her measure quickly. She appeared to be the type of woman who could be found all over his land. Her hands were calloused from work, her skin had seen many cycles of sun, and she held tight to her husband's hand as she spoke, her voice clear in the crisp air of the morning.