In spite of what Arthur said, Samuel didn’t want to part ways with Ryoko. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something about the warrior that drew him in. It was his old curiosity at work, he knew, but it had never applied to a person before. Well, it had applied to Sera, but that had been so long ago, and he’d been urged on by his mother to approach the girl who had grown up in and around the inn. His mother had been right to encourage him, of course, as that friendship had blossomed into a firm bond that had lasted nearly two decades.
But when it came to Ryoko, he knew that there was a deeper layer to that man and that only continued study would reveal it. Not too directly though, he thought, or else he might just decide to part ways with the strange new lord early and take off to Milagre or back to Harlest on his own. It had to be done carefully, like an old book that would fall apart if he were too forceful. And, despite his lack of social skills with ordinary people, Samuel thought he might know just how to do it.
He made his way around the edge of the wagon to the side where their food and cooking equipment were normally stored. Jameson and Clara had already cleared this off and carried it over to the fire that was being built, of course, which left Samuel alone except for the long string of water canteens tied there. He was also, for the first time that trip, not in anyone’s line of sight. His intent was to grab and empty one of them, but he never got that far.
Something thin and cold touched the front of his neck, and he instinctively froze. This was a brand-new experience for him, but he knew what that touch was. A blade was at his throat, and any rash movement from him would end very badly.
“Smart boy,” a snide voice whispered in his ear. “Now I know the look of a guard caravan when I sees one, boy. Everybody else is a warrior, which must make yous their little lord.”
He was right, of course, but Samuel wondered how he could have arrived at that conclusion, given how worn and frayed his robe was in places. Then he quickly realized that such things were the least of his concerns. He spoke softly, doing his best not to let the fear he felt reach his voice. “What do you want?”
“What do you think I want, little lord?” The man holding, obviously a brigand of some kind, let out a quiet cackle. “We wants gold and fine things, and yous is gonna give them to us.”
With a quick nudge, he propelled Samuel slowly forward around the corner of the wagon to where they could see the others preparing to make the midday meal. Nobody seemed to have noticed his absence just yet, though Arthur was quick to spot him. Every line in the steward’s body went stiff with outrage, and one hand flashed to the sword at his waist, though it stopped as the brigand holding him shouted.
“I’ve got your little lord, so don’t try nothin’ funny now. Put all them fancy sharp swords on the ground, or he dies!”
The others were alert to Samuel’s plight now and spun around. Samuel’s eyes darted left and right, trying to find Ryoko. Odd that the foreign warrior would be his first thought. But the Nihon-Jan was nowhere to be seen. He’d walked into the forest a minute too soon to see this attack taking place.
Do not resist. Agree to all their demands, and buy time. A voice sounded in the back of his mind. It could have been his own thought, except that he’d never heard this voice before. Shigeru will free you.
“On the ground!” The brigand snapped, as the guards hesitated to move. “Now!”
They carefully drew their weapons, throwing them down into the dust. Someone gestured in the very edge of Samuel’s vision, and the hired guards, Torrand included, backed away from their weapons. A brigand moved forward to collect them. The man holding Samuel now turned his attention to Arthur and spoke softly in his ear again.
“This all your guards, boy?”
Samuel glanced around again with his eyes, then nodded, acutely aware of how the knife seemed to dig a little more firmly into the soft flesh of his neck. “Yes.”
The knife pressed a little more firmly, just barely breaking the skin. He could feel a small trickle of blood run down into the collar of his robe. “Don’t lie to me, boy. Where’s the foreigner?”
He seemed to have directed this question at Arthur, who still hadn’t relinquished his weapon. Arthur opened his mouth to reply, then hesitated, his eyes darting to the left. Samuel supposed he was looking at another of the bandits. “He’s gone to collect water from the stream. He should be gone a while.”
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With a grunt of satisfaction, the brigand pushed Samuel forward. “Right. Hand over all your valuables. If we don’t get ‘em all, the little lord dies.”
Arthur made a quick gesture to the other armed men as they rose, directing them to stay put. Then he carefully pulled out his sword, still enclosed in its scabbard, from the belt. Samuel watched him carefully, hoping his face didn’t betray too much of the fear he felt. “It’s all in the wagon here. Let me just get it for you.”
The brigand let the knife drop from Samuel’s neck. “Good man. No need to-”
The end of his sentence was cut off with a choking cry. Suddenly, the hand holding his arm slackened its grip, as if its owner had gone limp. Arthur lunged forward at once, moving so fast Samuel could have sworn the ground was spring-loaded. He flicked the sword free of its scabbard and seized the front of Samuel’s robe with his free hand, hurling him back and out of reach of the other bandits.
It was only as he landed on his backside, now facing the man who had taken him hostage, that Samuel saw what had happened. An arrow had appeared in the bandit’s neck, throwing the man aside. Samuel traced the direction from which it had come, and could just barely make out a figure standing there. It was Ryoko! The foreigner was already lowering the asymmetrical bow he’d used to shoot the leading bandit, and now strode forward, drawing the curved blades that hung on either side of his waist.
Samuel watched, amazed, as Ryoko and his steward both approached the bandits without fear. They were outnumbered nearly six to one, but they more than held their own. The first brigand to recover from the shock of that arrow charged toward Ryoko, his sword swinging down in a vicious arc. The foreigner spun and stepped to one side as if performing some elegant dance, moving like water down a gentle slope. Samuel couldn’t even see his blade move until it had already completed its upward arc. The bandit fell lightly to the forest floor, followed just a moment after by his head.
Arthur fell on the others as they all took a step back from Ryoko, terror written plainly on his faces. His blade was thin like a needle, and he drove it forward, peppering the two closest brigands with small holes through their hearts, then flitting past them before the men could tell they’d been struck.
Just between Ryoko and the fighting, Samuel saw Grimr leap clear of his owner’s shoulders and charge away from the flashes of steel that were Ryoko and the bandits fighting each other. How used to battle was that small cat if it could ride Ryoko’s shoulder through that violent twisting action? The small black shape pelted directly for Samuel, probably looking for a place to shelter away from the fighting.
I’m just going to borrow you for a moment. That voice rang in the back of Samuel’s mind again, and he looked around for the source of it, for it clearly wasn’t coming from him. Before he could move much, however, Grimr had jumped lightly onto his shoulder. His first thought was that the cat weighed much more than he appeared to. There was also a strange amount of heat coming off the animal, far more than one would experience in an ordinary cat.
Then, without warning, electricity seemed to flood his body, originating from the point at which Grimr had touched him. It pulsed through him, stiffening his limbs and clouding his mind. He tried to fight against it, but the fog rolled over his field of vision too quickly to comprehend, let alone resist.
Stop struggling, you fool. I’m not going to kill you!
The voice had to be coming from the cat, his bewildered mind offered up. But almost at once, he disregarded the insane notion. Animals couldn’t speak, everyone knew that. But he quickly lost the ability to think of anything at all. Just barely visible through the cloud of fog, he saw a pale hand rise up and point at the fighting. That was his hand, he thought. But he couldn’t remember moving it.
Lightning - actual lightning - burst from the tip of his pointing finger, so bright it nearly blinded him, and flew directly at the knot of fighting figures ahead of him. For a moment he feared that it would hit Arthur, but just before it could make contact, the lightning split, forming over a dozen different, smaller bolts. All of them arced harmlessly around the steward and instead flew forward to hit a different bandit in the chest. The men cried out in pain and surprise as the energy coursed through them, paralyzing them just as it had Samuel.
In a moment, the battle was over. Arthur spun around, trying to find the source of the spell, but Ryoko showed no surprise. He stepped forward, his twin swords flashing, and quickly dispatched the remaining bandits. Only one man survived - seeing his comrades fall so quickly, he’d opted to run back into the trees. Ryoko turned as if to pursue him, but something made him stop. Instead, he forced himself to turn away, and his eyes met Samuel’s.
The fog was getting denser now, clouding his mind and pushing down on him. He fought valiantly to stay conscious, but he was getting weaker by the second. His last conscious image was of Shigeru’s eyes. Dark brown, close to black, and angry. There was so much rage and hatred in those eyes; rage that had barely lain contained below the surface, that it was more terrifying than Samuel’s sudden touch of magic.
Then all thought left him, and the world receded into the fog. Everything became dark, and he felt himself falling back, finally succumbing to the inexhaustible weight that bore down on his mind. And something far away - or perhaps deep inside him - woke up, and reached out to grab him.