Chapter 10
As the tasloi leader swung the mallet over his head, time stood still for Saburo. No. I won’t let it happen again. I won’t let them take Ren from me! NOT AGAIN!
Without thought, Saburo leapt into the air. Twisting and turning, the young man struggled to orient his body to the fall as he saw the ground rushing up to meet him. The naginata proved to be unbalancing, causing Saburo’s weight to shift too far forward. He hit the ground hard, crumpling into a heap; the breath blasted from his lungs.
Whatever plans Akira had hoped to lay before assaulting his nemesis evaporated the instant Saburo jumped. He had wished to at least school these greenhorns on the fundamentals of a surprise assault given their unique position, but all that was moot now. Acting quickly, the ranger recovered from the surprisingly foolish maneuver by wrapping a rope around his waist and turning towards Yatsen.
“Go! NOW!”
The soldier in training hesitated for a moment before grabbing the end of the rope and jumping after his friend. Using the rope, Yatsen kicked out from the wall incrementally, allowing for a slower and much safer decent. He watched Saburo pick himself off the ground as a band of tasloi began to orient themselves to the newly discovered intruders. Yatsen was not a soldier yet, but he knew that his friend had been hurt from the fall. If he was not allowed to get his bearings before the enemy arrived, they would finish him quickly. Drawing his wakazashi, he ran headlong into the fray yelling at the top of his lungs and swinging his blade in a wide arc.
Saburo winced as he stood up; watching as Yatsen courageously intercepted the now advancing tasloi horde. There were a total of seven, including the leader and his hulking bodyguard. Three of the tasloi had been quick to act and were running across the room to attack the charging Yatsen. The leader said something to his bodyguard and began to drag Ren into the corpse of the dragon, while his bodyguard mobilized the remaining tasloi. If I do not help Yatsen, he will perish.
Before he could even move, his ears caught a faint whistling from above followed by the sight of an arrow blossoming from nearest tasloi’s neck. It went down gurgling as Yatsen collided with the remaining force. Putting his entire momentum into the attack Yatsen swung. He watched in shock as the blade sailed over the tasloi’s tumbling form. Despite their diminutive size, the tasloi were impressively cunning foes. As one of the tasloi rolled past Yatsen, his attention was momentarily distracted from the second. This gave it all the advantage it needed to enter within the reach of Yatsen’s deadly blade and sink its claws into the young man’s leg. Yatsen screamed as he diverted his attention to the enemy that has just ripped a chuck of flesh from his thigh. The tasloi slowly circled, trying to wear down his defenses. He knew that he was clearly outmatched and things were only going to get worse when the second wave hit.
“A little help,” he shouted back at his companions.
Saburo responded to the call by skewering one of the tasloi that had flanked his friend. It screamed in agony as it squirmed on the end of the man’s polearm.
“Sorry I’m late,” Saburo said as he threw the motionless form off the end of his naginata.
The two men had never worked together in battle before, but necessity had made them quick learners. Nodding to each other, both men approached the remaining tasloi from different directions, using their weapons to create a pincer effect from which even the nimble tasloi could not escape. Saburo’s had to suppress his gag reflex as he watched the upper half of the enemy go sailing into the air in front of him. Yatsen wasted no time with such concerns. After finishing the tasloi, he turned his attention on the approaching second wave. The bodyguard stopped a fair distance in front of the men and with bark, sent his men forth. They hadn’t taken but two steps before an arrow slammed into one of the tasloi’s chest, sending it to meet its dark maker.
With a roar of anger, the bodyguard removed the weapon he carried upon his back. It appeared to be nothing more than a very large flat piece of metal that had been narrowed at its base to enable someone to wield it. Jagged shards stuck out from every possible angle. The weapon seemed very dull and that is what terrified Saburo. The hulking tasloi charged as the last foot soldier was run through by Yatsen.
“Saburo,” Yatsen called out as he set himself against the charge of his foe. “Go save Ren, I’ll handle this!”
He barely had enough time to finish his sentence before the bodyguard was upon him. It swung the cleaver down just as Yatsen brought his blade up to block. Sparks flew from the impact and the crash of steel split the air. Yatsen had used two hands for the block, anticipating his opponent’s superior strength but it made no difference. The cleaver momentarily paused over the wakazashi before continuing downwards into his shoulder. Yatsen screamed and collapsed to the ground unmoving.
“YATSEN,” Saburo screamed as he charged the behemoth.
With satisfaction, he watched as he buried the naginata’s blade to the shaft in the tasloi’s flank. It howled in pain, twisting to greet its new foe. Saburo was wrenched to the side by the sudden change in his opponent’s direction. By the Kami it is strong! With a single claw, it reached down and yanked the blade form its side. Saburo tried to remove his weapon from the creature’s grasp but it was impossible. A toothy smile split the creature’s face as it jerked on the other end of Saburo’s naginata. It snarled as the man stumbled towards it, caught off balance by the force of its power. With quick swipe, its fist buried itself into Saburo’s face. His neck whipped back from the blow and sent him sailing backwards into the air. Saburo knew that he had been struck, but the pain didn’t register. He lay on the cold stone floor as the creature towered over him. It reached down to pick up his naginata and slowly positioned the weapon over Saburo’s face.
“You die human,” it said in broken Rokugani.
Saburo’s body began convulsing in uncontrollable laughter, blood oozing down the sides of his mouth. The tasloi hesitated, the rage and confusion evident on its face. The tasloi were cunning, but clearly this one had survived far too long on its brawn alone. The desire to satisfy its bloodlust had overcome its common sense. It had failed to ask a very important question: Why had the barrage of arrows that had killed its men ceased? The realization came far too late. It turned directly into Akira’s waiting blades. The last thing it saw before dying was the cold look of hatred etched on the ranger’s face. The man wiped his blades on the carcass of his slain nemesis before using the strange root Utsuge had given him on Yatsen.
“How are you doing Saburo,” the ranger asked as he applied the substance to Yatsen’s wound.
“Fine,” Saburo lied while struggling to his feet once again.
The sake-maker’s son had been through many strange events over the past few days, but the sight of Yatsen’s flesh knitting itself together was still impressive to him. The man was on the very of death nearly a moment ago, but now he was up completely restored.
“That really hurt,” Yatsen declared as he opened his eyes and stood up.
“The fight isn’t over,” Akira stated. “The leader still has Ren and we don’t know if there are more tasloi out on patrol. Move quickly and stay together.”
The group gathered itself and quickly ran towards the mouth of the dragon’s remains. As they approached the corpse, Saburo felt his head begin to throb. The pain increased exponentially with every step he took. His skull felt like it was being used as an anvil, nearly driving him to his knees 10 feet from the entrance. He saw Akira poised to rush inside, but watched him call a halt not more than a few feet away. Saburo’s senses were more than a bit preoccupied with the pain and so he didn’t see what the ranger was starring at. It wasn’t until the glow from the inside of the dragon began to flicker did he understand that someone or something was making its way out. The three men waited patiently as the leader of the tasloi exited the throat of the cadaver nonchalantly. If he was concerned that most of his tribe was lying in pools of blood all around the cavern, he gave no sign of it. With a wave of his hand he addressed the gathered men.
“You have done well humans, but you are too late. Your friend has already been Tested. She will join me and the great Doushi as we begin our conquest of the Emerald Empire!”
Without a word, Akira drew the gaijin blades he carried and rushed the regal tasloi. Halfway to his intended target, Saburo saw the air ripple in front of the man. The tasloi’s eyes glowed a malevolent green as it concentrated on the approaching ranger. The blade intended for the leader’s throat stopped a hair away from the creature’s skin, motionless. Akira’s eyes widened as he backed away, dropping his swords to the floor and clutching his head. Blood began to pour from his eyes and nose. He thrashed about from side to side, fighting some unseen demon from within…then just as suddenly he stopped. His hands dropped to his sides and he fell face first into the ground. Sabuoro and Yatsen exchanged glances as they watched blood pool around his head. The legendary Akira, whom even the Himura respected was defeated. Looking up from his vanquished foe, the leader’s eyes locked on both men in turn. Slowly, pain began to flood Saburo’s senses.