Siinji - Or, Ankūro and the City of the Golden Boughs

23

23

A path that has led,
Through great hardship, pain and toil,
Is only a path.
- Rasakūn.

Tuccé couldn't help but stare as Drellis tended to White Eye's wounds, pulling out the arrows and stopping the bleeding, one-by-one, with his healing magic. The old woman did not even flinch and that made Drellis smile even more, as though he admired the woman. A clatter of metal against metal and wood forced Tuccé to look around. Akemio had gathered White Eye's weapons, dropping them beside her open, bulging sack.

"You should kill the Rokoi now." Even now, Akemio looked at White Eye with trepidation, the fingers of his hand flexing against the hilt of the Kinishima sword. "Healing the creature is a mistake."

"You should not question Drellis-Nē. He is our master and his master is the master of us all." The boy, Sakicho, also stared at White Eye, though he showed none of the nerves of Akemio. "The Yāttō and the Emperor will enjoy the gift."

"My master is the coin paid for my services, boy." Spitting to the side, Akemio chanced a glance to Sakicho. "My Na-oi Sansui work for me, not the boy Emperor, and the pay does not cover my losses."

"You would do well to hold your tongue, mountain warrior." Turning to Akemio, Sakicho's thumb pushed at the guard of his sword, revealing a glint of the blade.

Tuccé narrowed his eyes at this exchange. He had thought all these 'Sansui' warriors were the same, but it seemed clear that these two held some enmity to each other. Too late, he caught Drellis looking at him and Tuccé turned his eyes to the ground before him. Drellis stood, then, his ministrations for White Eye's injuries finished.

"Now, now. Our guests are watching." Laying a hand on Sakicho's sword hand, Drellis looked down at Tuccé, Yurivno and then lingered upon White Eye. "You'll give them ideas about spreading further discord among us. Akemio, you will be compensated for your losses. Sakicho, you will forgive Akemio's outburst. All the people of Kaguta love and honour their Emperor, after all."

With a grunt, Akemio spat once again, before backing away. Once he had put twenty feet between himself, Drellis and Sakicho, and White Eye, he turned, heading towards his own group of soldiers. Those 'shadow warriors' milled about, with no formation, separated from the remaining regular soldiers.

"The mountain man has one good point. The woman is a danger to us all." Jerking his head towards the soldiers and the bodies upon the ground, Sakicho then looked at White Eye again, thumb rubbing against the guard of his sword. "Six dead, two more dying and four injured. We still haven't found the one dragged into the forest. This is no ordinary woman."

"Which is why she will make a worthy addition to the Emperor's duels." Drellis had leaned down, picking up one of the tablets. His fingers played across the surface. "Besides, from my observation, harming the old woman will have a better chance of forcing the Kannai's compliance in the trials ahead."

Yurivno. She had remained almost silent since Tuccé's capture, her head lowered as though suffering from a great burden of guilt. He had tried to catch her eye more than once. She had shown flashes of her true personality, but, each time, she would lapse once more, becoming sullen and filled with despair.

White Eye, too, had shown little of herself since the battle. If not for her defiance in the face of Drellis, Tuccé had not seen any of her usual, gruff, no-nonsense attitude. She had kneeled where told, not struggling against her extensive bonds, saying nothing. She had not even attempted one of those intimidating glares, where her blind eye could pierce the strongest of façades. She almost looked defeated. Almost.

Tuccé, himself, had done far more than he would have tried a few weeks prior. It still didn't seem quite right that he had decided to return to the forest and its twisting paths, in search of White Eye, ready to help. That was not the Tuccé that he had built over many years and countless teaching experiences that had shown him not to trust anyone, least of all himself. To mock his captors was one thing, something he did almost without thinking, but to do so in earnest? He felt like an imposter.