Utaka really wanted to lead a small group of a dozen or so men straight to Kuro’s capital and just kill the queen and be done with it—whether that thought came from a clear head or his drunken mind was still up for debate. Because of the suspicion that it came from anything other than actual tactical thought, however, Izo wouldn’t let him—at least not without further consideration for the effects of it.
He wasn’t greeted with a whole lot of fanfare when he got home, but he didn’t really expect any, either. This wasn’t a return thanks to victory—if anything, it was just because Izo figured he should stay at the palace. Utaka also wanted to question that point of logic, but since they still treated him like Okimi’s son, they wouldn’t listen.
He managed to get through a few days without drinking too much; Erize didn’t give him much options there. At this point, he wouldn’t be surprised if she dumped out all of the alcohol and replaced it with water or tea. Utaka would had preferred it if they also weren’t stuck doing work the whole time, but there was no getting around that.
Two weeks passed since he returned; nothing eventful came up. One would almost mistake it for peacetime—and it could be, compared to the skirmishes, but there was still a threat.
Utaka and Takeo were both doing work—considering that Erize did it all when he was gone, Utaka figured he should give her a break. She deserved the time to rest for a little while.
The room was silent, the only noise being rustling papers and a few scattered sighs, until Utaka spoke up.
“Could I debate some strategy with you for a minute?” Utaka asked, glancing at Takeo. “It keeps bothering me.”
Takeo patiently put down the report he was going over. “If you wanted to talk tactics, you should’ve said it to Hiroki Izo,” he pointed out.
“The man still thinks I’m a teenager,” Utaka replied. “Any advice that I try to give is from Okimi’s bored, shut-in son; if we discussed it and it’s anything fruitful, he’ll listen to you.”
There was a short pause, then Takeo nodded. “All right, then. What’s on your mind?”
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Utaka frowned. “First—why the hell are we still here? Kuro’s passed the border and it’s not like this place is a secret. We can’t even say this place is theoretically impenetrable or hard to break into, because there’s still half-beaten walls that were damaged during the First Queen’s War—if anything, it’s easier to get in than it was back then.”
“The rebels from the first queen’s time already knew the palace,” Takeo reasoned. “A few of them were likely servants or people who were close enough to know of the royal family’s troubles at the time. Kuro hasn’t seen a battle in these halls for centuries before that.”
“I still feel like we should move Kyoumi somewhere,” Utaka maintained. “Erize, too, while we’re at it—I have to stay here for all the damn ‘honor’ and ‘bravery’ nonsense. The question comes from where we can put them; east is the logical option, but we don’t know anyone back there personally. Erize said she mentioned going to Fujita territory to Kyoumi, but I doubt it’s any safer than here.”
“Defense-wise, it’s not,” Takeo said after a short pause of thought. “Our home isn’t especially grand, and we’re minor nobles. I’d say that they might not expect it, but we’re also close enough that it wouldn’t take them long to raid us as well.” He put his report aside and looked at Utaka. “With any luck, you’re overestimating the situation. I doubt Kuro can really get very far into Gin; there might not be forests, but the plains don’t exactly give landmarks, either.”
“Yeah, well, that’s not really all of it, either.” Utaka put down his own report, sighing. “I’m also not sure why we can’t try another counteroffensive—a small team to strike back at Kuro’s capital. It worked the first time, but Izo won’t actually give the order and I doubt that anyone would listen to me if I gave it.”
Takeo moved around a bit, changing his position. “I can guess easily enough what Hiroki’s thinking about that. When we sent that group out the first time, Nari’s kids were still young; by now, they know who the next heir is, and a few of the children are adults. It would be harder to get in and kill someone when they train their prospective heirs how to fight as soon as they can stand—considering we don’t have any people trained for that kind of work, it’s more of a suicide mission than it was last time.”
“What else can we do, then?” Utaka asked. It wasn’t a question he expected Takeo to answer. “This won’t end until me or Nari is dead—or until all of her favorites get a taste of battle, if we’re lucky. There has to be a way to speed this up so this damn thing can be over.”
“Choose your words wisely,” Takeo warned him. He picked another report back up, signaling an end to the distraction. “The gods hear every bit of this—and you know they like to grant our wishes in one way or another. Keep your grim thoughts to yourself if you want to live through this.”
Utaka sighed, taking another report for himself. “I can try, if keeping my mouth shut will help anything.”