The Continent (The Continent #1)(90)
“Your courage does you credit, brother,” Noro says. “But you must go with Vaela.”
I stare at him. “I’m not going to turn tail and run for the sea, Noro.”
“Miyake, you saw what happened. This is going to be a massacre. I should have sent the two of you away weeks ago. Now listen to me, and—”
I push his hands from my shoulders. “Don’t make the mistake of asking me again to flee like a coward.”
Keiji nods, double-tapping his heart this time.
I see the pain and sorrow in Noro’s eyes, but I cannot help him. The Aven’ei must fight, and I am no exception.
He exhales slowly. “Then both of you keep in mind: today, you must be itzatsune. If you for even a moment lose sense of your surroundings, you will die. Follow every scenario in your mind to its conclusion before you act—and as much as possible, keep out of sight. Strike from the edges of the forest, where you may remain unseen.”
He kneels before Keiji, who wears an incredibly brave face considering the circumstances. “I love you, brother. I shall look for you in the hereafter, knowing that you lost your earthly life with honor.”
Keiji nods, his chin trembling slightly. They embrace for a long moment, and I swallow, feeling as though there is a stone in my throat.
A moment later, Keiji turns to me. He pulls a long cord from beneath his leather tunic; my ruby dangles from the end, glittering warm and red.
“Forever,” I say, throwing my arms around him. “Forever and ever, my sweet Keiji.”
“Go, brother,” Noro says, and like a whisper of wind, Keiji is gone.
Noro turns to me. Now that the moment of separation is upon us—the true goodbye—it is real. Pain is written on Noro’s face—pain, regret, loss—a thousand emotions I have seen before, held close to my heart. This parting could not be more cruel. Yet still I do not cry.
“I must go as well. I cannot linger any longer—I must do what I can in battle.” He takes me in his arms and kisses me. For one small moment, I am his, only his; there is no war to wrench us apart, no Topi to deliver death. “Be strong, as I know you are. I love you.”
“I love you.”
“Remember what I said—be careful. Please, my sweet miyake, be careful.”
“I will,” I say, and my heart aches. I want to weep for the tragedy of it, for the senselessness and absurdity and waste of it all, but I cannot. I hurt—how I hurt—but tears are lost to me now, a thing of yesterday, a thing well beyond my reach. Tears will not bring Yuki back. Tears will not save me—will not save any of us. We will bleed into the fields until the mud is scarlet with death, and the Topi raise their voices in victory.
With one last look at me—a look so wrought with emotion I feel it may kill me where I stand—Noro turns and disappears into the trees.
CHAPTER 34
I STAND ALONE IN THE WOOD, QUIET. THAT IS TO say that I am quiet; the clash of steel, breaking of bones, cracking of shields is thunderous, though I am a full hundred and fifty yards from the battlefield. A vision of Yuki’s face in that terrible moment flashes in my mind; I close my eyes. No. Not yet.
There is a task at hand, and I must focus. The weight of my knife belt—heavy, burdensome—tugs at my waist. I find myself deeply aware of it. I run my fingers across the row of knives, the cool blackwood hafts perfectly positioned and ready. It is time to find a vantage point—to see what, if anything, can be done. Despite Yuki…despite everything—hope still burns in my breast, though I accept that I will likely die within minutes. I wonder if this is a human idiosyncrasy—a survival instinct.
Emboldened, I wipe my face and start toward the battlefield. I will do what I can. I will survive as long as I can.
As I near the perimeter of the forest, I slow my pace, then squat behind a wide tree. Through the sparse trees here, I can see clearly, and before me is an unholy sight: the Topi are pushing the Aven’ei back with incredible power. The field is blanketed with men, all moving eastward in a macabre procession of blood and death and horror.
My eyes dart from one engagement to the other, my mind boggling. The sheer mass of bodies moving and clashing together is staggering; the very ground beneath my feet shakes with the fury of war. The Aven’ei fight bravely, viciously for their survival—and everywhere, I see them fall as the Topi press forward. For my part, I am overwhelmed—I have no idea what I can possibly do. There are no stragglers here, only thousands of men who are bigger, stronger, and deadlier than I. Noro said the itzatsune would move from the trees. I haven’t the strength to slip in quietly and drag a man out of sight, but I may be able to move in and out unnoticed.
I watch as a Topi cleaves the arm from an Aven’ei swordsman before plunging a dagger into his temple. My stomach roils. The Topi turns to his right and staggers backward, the lengthy shaft of an arrow having just appeared in his chest. One knee goes to the ground as he clutches at the arrow, and before I even know what I am doing, I am sprinting toward him. Just as Noro taught me, I grip the man’s chin with one hand and open his neck with the other.
A wash of blood spurts forth; I let go and race back toward the trees. I’m shaking once again, my hands trembling so much that I can scarcely grip my knife; my knife, slippery with blood, having finally fulfilled the dark purpose for which it was made. I head farther into the trees, stumbling on legs made of jelly.