Kaguta - Or, Ankūro - The Warrior, The Thief and The Killer

30

Escaping the now,
The now escaping the you,
Who escapes what, then?
- Nuriaki.

They had not spared the woman any dignity, or pain, from what what Kō could see. She lay, curled and huddled, in the corner of the cell, shivering, naked in the dirt and filth and her own blood. A crude bandage wrapped around one hand, dirty and caked with blood. Cuts and bruises covered her body and one eye damaged so badly that Kō doubted the woman would ever see from that eye again. Her face a puffed mass of bruises and welts shook as the woman tried to push herself even further into the corner.

It meant little to Kō. This was not her brother. Leaving the woman for Dojūru to attend to, Kō ran from one empty cell to another, knowing full well that she had already seen that they were not occupied. She strangled a howl as she reached the far end of the cells and had to stop herself from trying to shake the dead guard back to life. She had arrived too late and they had either killed Ginka, moved him on to somewhere else, or they had never held him in this fortress in the first place.

She had risked her life for nothing when she had others to think of. The hated ones upon her list who deserved painful deaths. Kiriho and the child, too. Again, she felt her stomach turn as she realised how sick that would sound to anyone else. Feeling the loss of not killing others before considering those she should care for. This was what she had become. A vessel for vengeance whose only thought in this moment was of more death.

"The woman is strong, but has suffered much." Dojūru appeared, as silent as breath, and began undressing the guard, the jacket next to useless, but better than nothing for the woman that lay in the cell. "I fear she will not live, but we can try to save her life, if we can escape and take her back to the monastery."

"Has she said anything? About Ginka?" After only a slight pause, she crouched to help him remove the guard's trousers. "I must know whether he was here."

"She has not spoken." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and Kō felt the judgement without him even saying another word.

It took far too long to dress the woman and she didn't help matters. If this was the Nesukē Saiban had spoken of, Kō had expected more. Better. The woman looked broken, not only in body, but in mind, also. From what Saiban had said, the Nesukē he knew had gone, replaced by a pathetic wreck of a woman that flinched at every touch, her swollen lips moving but saying nothing, spittle dripping onto her chin.

Showing greater strength than she had expected of the man, Dojūru lifted the woman on to his shoulders, his staff abandoned in order to carry her. He looked to Kō, expecting her to lead the way, but to where? Should the forces still huddled within their comfortable barracks and bunk houses stir, Kō could not fight them all and they had to find some way of escaping with the woman. The gates were, in all likelihood, their only option and she doubted leaving that way would prove easy.

For the moment, they had to leave the keep and she at least remembered the way back to the kitchen. Upon arriving there, she found the place empty, the cooks and servants gone, to hide or to inform on Kō and Dojūru, she couldn't know, but she felt glad that she need not threaten anyone to keep their silence. She did not expect Dojūru's persuasiveness to last in the face of angry soldiers, or, worse, Sansui.

At the door to the outside of the keep, she looked to Dojūru but the former Sansui had not lagged behind. The woman over his shoulders moaned in pain, but Dojūru remained determined to carry her from the fortress. At least he still had the short sword in his belt, he could drop the woman and fight, if needed. Somehow, she knew he wouldn't and any fighting would fall to her. With the Kinishima sword in her belt, her spear still tied to her back, and the curved short sword, she had enough weapons, but weapons would mean little against a horde of enemies. Less against a Sansui.