Eighteenth-century Scotland…

 

 

 

Kemuri looked down at his shirt. There was a long diagonal slice from his shoulder to under the opposite arm. The skin under the shirt was exposed but untouched. He smiled; she was getting better. He looped his chain and hung it over his head, crisscrossed with the slice through in his shirt. The silver chain clashed with the black shirt and slacks he wore.

“Will we be seeing ye in a week, then, lad?” Mr. Fitzgibbons asked.

They had arrived in the small home not too long ago. Mrs. Fitzgibbons had insisted on going into the other room to help Amelia get dressed. Kemuri had waited in the family room with her husband.

Kemuri turned to the older man standing in the room with him. The man was a few inches taller than him, with dark hair and eyes. He was well-built with worn hands but a warm smile.

Kemuri nodded. “Yes, a course.” He spoke broken English with a heavy Japanese accent. “Are sure no one upset?”

The man chuckled. “Oh lad, we use to ye by now. I ken the others will be if we be.”

Kemuri smiled and nodded. “I look forward to it.”

“Oh lass,” the man’s eyes drifted past Kemuri to a young woman that entered the room, “ye look beautiful.”

Kemuri agreed. He smiled at Amelia, who winked at him. She was wearing a beautiful blue dress that hung to her feet. It hugged her body in the places Kemuri knew it would. She had tied her long dark hair in braids that hung behind her head, held by a thin rope. The ends of her long sleeves ended in mild lace ruffles.

“Of course, she do.” A woman stepped out from behind her. “Ye dinna ken she could be anythin’ but stunnin’, do ye?” Her Scottish accent was stronger than her husband’s. Kemuri struggled with it at times.

“Thank you so much, Mrs. Fitzgibbons,” Amelia said warmly.

“Dinna fash, lass,” She replied.

“Thank you both for allow her get dressed here,” Kemuri said.

Mrs. Fitzgibbons eyed him, “Ye certain nuthin’ be wrong wit how ye arrived?”

Amelia smiled and looked back over her shoulder. “Very certain, madam.”

She scoffed at the title, “I done tell ye, lass, dinna be calling me that.”

Amelia gave a small chuckle. “My apologies, Mairi.”

“Much better.”

“We must be on way,” Kemuri said. “Thank you both again.”

“Ye take good care of her,” Mrs. Fitzgibbons said as she pointed at Kemuri.

“Of course,” Kemuri smiled.

 

“How many questions did she ask you while you were getting dressed?” Kemuri asked a few minutes after they departed the home of the Fitzgibbons family.

Amelia smiled. “She wasn’t pleased with the state of my dress when I arrived,” she shook her head. “She feared I had encountered unsavory folk.”

Kemuri smiled, “Only me.”

Amelia smiled back. “So, are you going to explain why you wanted me to dress like a proper English woman?” Her English accent was not as strong as it had been a month before.

Kemuri looked up at the sky to see the sun rising over the horizon. “I need a favor.” He lifted the worn coat he had brought with him over his clothing.

“You mentioned that,” Amelia replied. “Care to be more specific?”

They were walking along the road that connected several villages in this part of Scotland.

“Do you know the lord that rules this land?” Kemuri’s accent was nearly gone now.

Amelia nodded. “Yes. We have an… uneasy understanding with him. If he leaves us alone, we will not go after him,” She exhaled. “He is a right bastard that treats these people like cattle.” She looked around, then back to the cottage they had just departed. She turned back to Kemuri. “Mrs. Fitzgibbons was telling me about their daughter being wed in a week.” She looked down as she continued, “though they are dreading it.”

“Yes,” he said. “Which is why we are here now.” He stopped walking as they neared a hill. It was not a large incline, but enough to shield part of the road after the peak.

She raised her eyes and met his. “What are you going to do?”

“Get their attention,” he answered. “While I have no qualms with infiltrating the fortress they like to hide within, a full attack will not work as well. I need to catch them by surprise. And I need your help to do so.” He hesitated. “It may not all be pleasant.”

Amelia met his eyes for a long, silent moment before she nodded. “You did save my life.”

He smiled. “I did not save your life as much as not kill you.”

She laughed. “Is there a difference with you?”

He paused, then shook his head with another smile. “I suppose not.”

“Regardless, it means I owe you. So, I will help.”

“Thank you.” He paused, “It may be dangerous at times. Luckily, I know you can handle yourself.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Handle myself?” She chuckled. “I nearly had you this time.”

Kemuri smiled, “Tell yourself that if you wish.”

She stepped forward and lifted the torn fabric of his shirt. “Cannot be much closer than that, love.”

He nodded. “You are improving greatly.”

She narrowed her eyes. “When will I get another shot?”

“Soon,” Kemuri answered. “Your training will intensify within a few weeks. When Izak thinks you are all ready.”

Amelia smiled in anticipation but exhaled and looked around. “You need me as bait today, then?”

“I would not say that.”

“Really?” She raised her eyebrows. “You asked me to meet you here and change into the type of dress I have not worn in years.” She looked down at herself and put her arms out. “A proper English woman.”

He smiled and nodded. “You know proper etiquette for this region. And you know how people react to me.”

She chuckled. “I do.”

“They have seen me before but have ignored me, mostly, because I have only been bothering Scots.”

“But if you bother a proper English lady…” She let the sentence hang.

“Yes. They will have a different reaction.”

She nodded. “What do you need me to do?”

“I need you to go along,” Kemuri said. “The lord’s young son and his guard are going over tactics and should come near shortly. I am bothering you and have been bothering you for several miles now.”

“Here, I thought I was the one chasing you.” She eyed him. “How do you know where they are?”

Kemuri smiled and tapped his ear. “Do you remember when I explained how I communicate with Maven?”

“I do,” Amelia replied. “Will I ever get to meet this Maven?”

Kemuri chuckled. “Not likely.”

She eyed him. “What about…” she hesitated and considered a few seconds before she remembered, “Diamond? Or this Temperance you have said so much about?”

His smile widened. “Someday, I suspect you will. However, they are both currently away, spending well-deserved time enjoying life.”

Amelia’s face saddened. “Don’t you ever enjoy life?”

 Kemuri smiled and quickly changed the subject. “Do you have your dagger?”

She eyed him. it was his favorite way to change the subject. “You know I don’t need it any longer.”

“I do not know what will happen. I do not know what they will do or say to you. If you do not want to help, I will understand.”

She exhaled. “If anyone touches me, he’s mine?”

“Agreed.” Kemuri smiled.

“Then, I am in.”

He hesitated for a moment, then blurted, “Call for help. Now.” He closed his coat and buttoned the front.

“I told you to leave me alone!” She called out without hesitation. Her accent was strong again. “Someone please help me!” Her voice grew louder and louder. She took several steps away from him, up the road.

Moments later, a man on horseback appeared from over the hill. He wore a redcoat, with black breeches and worn boots. He had one hand on his sword as the other held the reins. “Miss, are you all right?”

“No,” Amelia added stress to her voice. Her accent rang thick. “This man has been bothering me for miles now and I just want to go home.”

Kemuri smiled internally; it did not show on his face. They met one another’s gaze and had a brief, silent conversation.

She knew why he had asked her to help and not Letitia. While she was a proper lady, she could not shake her Scottish accent. The English accent signaled station. The soldiers could not see beyond the dress and accent. They would know her as someone important. She could tone down her accent, of course, just as he could, yet she knew it had to be prominent now. She chuckled to herself, knowing how thick his accent was about to be.

The soldier was off his horse, one hand still on the hilt of his sword. He approached cautiously, eyeing Kemuri. “What’s your business bothering this fine woman?”

“I no bother,” Kemuri spoke in broken English, with a heavy accent. “I need way. Direction. Know where go.”

“He makes little sense,” Amelia complained. “I kept asking him to leave me alone. But he wouldn’t stop.”

“I… help,” Kemuri said.

“Jack!” another voice called out. Kemuri turned to see two more soldiers approaching on horseback. Behind them, in the distance, were four more. He smiled internally and took a step toward the soldier.

“Hey, you!” The soldier drew his sword and pointed it at Kemuri. He stepped between Kemuri and Amelia, directing her to step behind him. “You stay where you are.”

Kemuri shook his head and took another step. “No. I no stay where am. I need go.”

“Rupert, get your ass over here!” the soldier called out.

The two soldiers kicked their heels, and the horses sped up. They were on them in seconds. Both men dismounted and drew their swords. “What do we have here, Jack?” Rupert asked.

“It seems our foreign friend has been harassing this fine English woman,” the first soldier, Jack, answered.

The two newcomers turned and eyed Amelia appreciatively, then turned to Kemuri. “We can’t have you bothering our women, now can we?”

“I no bother!” Kemuri said, clearly frustrated. He attempted to explain that he needed directions, but he broke up his English enough that it made little sense. He did not suspect the men to be overly intelligent, but he had to be certain he made little sense.

In the minutes he attempted to explain, those in the distance had caught up the others. Three of them were dressed the same as the three that were already there. The fourth, however, stood out. He was a child, only eleven years old. He was not wearing a redcoat, but a fine blue jacket over a perfectly clean white shirt. His boots were black and made of the finest leather. His black breeches were of high quality as well and, like his boots, free of mud and dirt. Kemuri wondered how he got onto the horse.

“What is that!?” the boy demanded, staring at Kemuri. “He looks so funny.”

One soldier beside him smiled. “That is a Chinaman, sire.” He turned to the boy, “Your father has dealt with a few in his travels. I have encountered a couple of them myself, in my journeys with him. They are a strange people. Sneaky.” He turned to the soldiers on the ground. He opened his mouth to demand a report when he noticed Amelia standing behind Jack. “Miss? Are you all right?”

Amelia nodded and pointed at Kemuri. “Now that he’s finally away from me.”

Her words caught the boy’s attention. He turned and stared at her. “You are pretty.”

Amelia flushed and curtseyed. “Thank you, sire.”

“Do you have a husband?” the boy asked.

“No, sire,” She answered.

The boy turned to her with curious eyes, “What is a proper English lady doing amid savage villages?” He demanded. “You have no husband; therefore, you have no reason to be traveling alone. Unless you are a whore, posing as a lady.”

“Sire,” she pleaded with him. The soldier blocked her and forced her to lean around him. “Please, sire. Let me explain.”

The soldier that seemed to guide the young man eyed her suspiciously. “Why are you here, miss?”

“I…” she hesitated, then exhaled. “I was checking on one of my father’s servants. She fell ill yesterday, and I was concerned. She is my age, sire, and we have become friends of sorts.”

“What family?”

“Beaton, sir.”

The soldier pursed his lips and nodded. He eyed Amelia and must have estimated her age, then turned to the boy. “It is common for charitable English children to grow bonds with the Scots, sire.”

The boy eyed Amelia, then his soldiers. He looked at Kemuri with disgust before he nodded to himself. “Get rid of that thing but let her go…” he hesitated and gave a sadistic smile, “when you’re finished with her.”

Two of the soldiers smiled and stepped toward her.

“Sire!” Amelia pleaded as she stepped backward. “I’m a lady!”

“Not an important one,” the boy replied coldly.

“How dare you!” Kemuri stepped between the men and her.

Both soldiers, Rupert and Jack, looked at one another.

“You no touch her!” Kemuri insisted.

Both soldiers looked over to the boy, who had an amused expression on his face. “Why would you defend her? You were harassing her.”

“I ask where to go. I want go home,” Kemuri explained in his broken English. “I no harm her. Nor you will.”

The boy was clearly becoming annoyed. “Get rid of him first, then.”

All the soldiers drew their swords.

Kemuri looked around at them all, stepping back as though trying to find a way out.

Suddenly, he leapt between two of them and rolled along the muddy ground. He was on his feet in a moment and had a dagger drawn. He grabbed the boy from the horse and held the knife to his neck.

“You no move. None!” Kemuri said, his eyes frantically looking around.

“Hey, friend,” the advisor stepped down from his horse and moved closer. “Easy. Do nothing you will regret.”

“I no regret harming sick child.” He shook the boy. “He no leader. He spoiled infant and need beat.” His eyes moved to Amelia for a split second.

“How dare you speak to me that way!” the boy said indignantly. It appeared a blade to his throat did not diminish how important he believed himself to be.

Kemuri looked down at the boy in disbelief. “You sick, boy. You have damage mind.” He tapped his head with the butt of the dagger’s hilt.

The soldier that had crept around the others to flank him took the opening and charged. He drove his shoulder into Kemuri’s back and drove him forward.

The advisor rushed over to the young lord and frantically checked him over.

The other soldiers kicked at Kemuri as soon as the other soldier had moved. Kemuri grunted and groaned with each blow.

Once the advisor knew the boy was unharmed, he looked around. “Men!”

The soldiers stopped immediately and turned to him.

“The woman,” the advisor said, “she’s gone.”

All of them looked around until Jack noticed movement in the woods. “There!”

“Silence her!” the boy demanded. He was back atop his horse once again. “No one dares hear anyone speak to me like that and live to tell others.”

“What of her family, sire?”

The advisor eyed him and answered for the boy. “Bad things happen to young women in these parts all the time. Take care of it.”

“Yes, sir.” Jack rushed through the trees after her.

“What do you want to do with this thing?” one soldier asked as he kicked Kemuri.

The boy looked down at him with disgust. He moved his horse closer to the fallen man and spat on him. “Bring him with us. Father will want to make an example out of him.”

“Yes, sire.”

They all reached down and ripped him up from the ground. Two of them dragged him along the ground before they threw him up onto a horse, his hands and legs hanging on either side.

Once Kemuri was secured to the horse, they all looked at the trees Jack had run into, trying to see if they could locate him.

After a few minutes, the boy grew impatient. “Rupert, wait here for him to return. Return home when you are finished.”

“Yes, sire.” Rupert dismounted once again and walked his horse over to the side of the road.

The others all turned and started down the road.

 

Jack looked around, moving back and forth to peer between the trees. He caught movement and pulled his pistol. “Do not make me shoot you!” he called out.

He heard a twig snap nearby and turned abruptly, gun raised. Amelia was standing in front of him, less than ten feet away. She had tears in her eyes. “Please don’t shoot me. I just want to go home, sir.”

Jack smiled and lowered his pistol. “If you are a good girl and do what you’re told, I won’t shoot you.”

“You’ll let me go home?”

He smiled at her in a way meant to be reassuring but came across as predatory. “Of course,” he lied. He motioned for her. “Come here.”

Amelia slowly walked toward him, eyes down at the ground. When she was near enough, he raised her chin and leaned down to kiss her. She was not much shorter than him, so he did not need to bend far. She shivered as his lips met hers. She could feel his tongue touching her lips and begrudgingly opened her mouth. He forcefully shoved his tongue into her mouth and pulled her against him. She whimpered but did not fight him.

When he pulled away from the kiss, his hand was already replacing his pistol to his belt. He unbuckled the belt and unfastened his breeches. He grabbed her hand and forced it down the front of his breeches. He let out a satisfied sigh as he felt her hand on him.

“That’s a good girl,” he said. “Now, if you do as I tell you, I won’t hurt you… much.” He chuckled to himself.

He heard what sounded like several branches breaking and looked around behind him. He figured the others were on their way, wondering what was taking him so long. That meant he wouldn’t have as long as he would have wanted.

Suddenly, pain consumed everything. The pressure of her grip on him was exponentially greater than he could have thought possible. With wide eyes, he turned and looked at her. That was when he finally looked into her eyes. And fear took hold.

“You’re… you’re…” his breath repeatedly caught as the pressure increased.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Amelia asked, in a bitter tone before a smile creased her lips. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite.”

He tried to shake his head but found he couldn’t move. The pain had sent his body into shock. His hands curled up and his arms shook. He knew his fellow soldiers were close. He just had to call out to them. He struggled to open his mouth, but nothing came out when he finally did.

“Was it worth it?” Amelia asked him as she leaned closer. She licked up his face before she squeezed hard enough to rupture the contents in her hand. His eyes widened as far as they would go before they rolled back in his head.

He fell back to the ground as she released her hold. His fingers were curled up as though stuck, his arms were bent, and his entire body shook as he hit the grass. The front of his breeches was dark with blood that seeped out and stained the ground beneath him. He heard faint sounds of what he thought were more twigs breaking. That meant the others were near, but he knew it would not do any good.

She glanced down and noticed the sleeve of her dress had ripped. “Bloody hell.” She turned angry eyes at the man bleeding on the ground, “Look what you did.” She shook her head. “I’ll have to have it mended before I return it to Mrs. Fitzgibbons.” She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and let the exhalation out gradually. She composed herself and looked at him for a long moment as a small smile crept over her face. “Time to go find your friend.” She turned and walked toward Rupert, leaving Jack to bleed out.

 

Kemuri watched the ground move beneath him. He had slid one hand from his bindings recently. He hadn’t wanted to, but the pain in his ear was becoming annoying and he knew it was only going to get worse. It was not unbearable, but he needed to ensure no one saw him and he knew it would not be long before they arrived at the gates. He tossed the earpiece to the side of the trail and into the grass before he slid his hand back into the binding. Less than ten minutes later, he heard English soldiers cry out to open the gate.

There were cobblestones under him within a few moments. The horses came to a stop and the soldiers all dismounted. Other soldiers that hurried over and greeted them before they secured the prisoner.

“Go get the Lord. He must know what happened with his son,” the advisor said to one of the younger soldiers that approached them.

The man nodded, turned, and ran through the courtyard.

Several soldiers walked over to look at Kemuri. There were comments and jokes about how he looked, laughter passing between them.

The boy dismounted from his horse with help. He stepped over to Kemuri and spat on him again before he turned and walked to the side. Several men and women were moving about the grounds.

A couple of stable boys stepped over and grabbed the reins of the other horses and led them toward the stable. The only horse that remained was the one they bound Kemuri to.

“Are you alright, my boy?” an older man demanded as he rushed toward the boy.

Everyone he passed bowed their heads or curtseyed; several giving him a wide berth.

“Yes, father,” the boy answered, looking up at him.

The man was dressed in fine cloth with leather boots and a long coat. His facial hair was perfectly trimmed and symmetrical. He had an aura about him that exuded fear and respect. He knelt and looked his boy over before he stood and turned on the advisor. “What the hell did you allow to happen, Sir Henry?” He spoke with an accent representative of his station and blood.

The advisor did not seem fazed by the angry tone of the lord’s voice. “We stumbled across this man bothering an English noblewoman during our routine check, sire,” he began. “When we attempted to detour him, he surprised us and pulled a knife on Reginald.” He quickly raised his hands, placatingly to the Lord as his anger visibly grew. “It is alright, sire. Your boy was brave and calm during the attack. He even scolded the savage while at knifepoint.”

The lord turned and looked down at his son who was beaming up at him, proud of himself.

“The savage proceeded to verbally insult the young lord until we overwhelmed him,” Henry concluded.

“What of the woman?” the lord asked.

“Jack and Rupert took care of it while we returned here, Sire,” Henry explained. “We would have dealt with the savage right then and there, but we thought you would wish to use this to make an example of him, sire.”

“Very good, Henry.” The lord looked at Kemuri’s helpless body and stepped closer. He grabbed him by the hair and lifted his head to look at his face. He spat in his face before he slapped him hard across the cheek.

Kemuri’s eyes opened with a start. He tried to move but could not. He struggled to get free until the lord pulled up hard. Kemuri winced and ceased moving.

“You think you can insult and threaten my son and get away with it?” he demanded in a bitter tone. “You will beg me to kill you before I am done with you.”

An enormous crowd was gathering around them now.

The lord turned to the others. “Cut him free.”

“My Lord, he is very fast,” a soldier warned. “You should be careful.”

“Do you not believe I can handle one savage!?” the lord demanded as he stepped closer.

The boy’s eyes glittered with anticipation as everyone else stepped backward.

The soldier swallowed hard and shook his head. “No, Sire. That is not what I meant, Sire. I know you can handle yourself, Sire, I just…”

“Then cut. Him. Free,” the lord demanded again.

“Yes, Sire.” The soldier turned and pulled his dagger from his belt. He sliced through the ropes on Kemuri’s wrists before doing the same to his ankles, before he grabbed Kemuri and violently pulled him from the horse.

Kemuri’s feet hit the ground awkwardly, and he fell.

“On your feet!” the soldier demanded as he lifted him off the ground.

“Yes, David, he is very intimidating,” the lord mocked the soldier.

The young man’s face turned crimson, but he lowered his eyes and said nothing.

The lord stepped up to Kemuri and walked around him, examining him, his clothing, his stance, and last, his eyes. Something he saw made him smile. “You are angry, savage. Why do you feel you have any right to be angry?”

Kemuri met his gaze without faltering. “Your soldiers allow a sick boy to order them to harm a innocent woman.”

The lord clenched his jaws at the insult to his son but did not interrupt.

“You no treat woman like that. No ever,” Kemuri continued.

The lord leaned down the few inches to Kemuri’s eyes and smiled. “I treat whoever I wish, however I wish. My son, you pathetic savage, will do the same. Everyone exists to benefit us because we are born noble. God chose us to rule this great country as we see fit.”

“Then you right. Boy not sick. You are sick,” Kemuri said. “People are not here for you. You no own them.”

The lord laughed at this. “I was born noble. That means God chose me. Do you know about God?”

Kemuri shook his head.

“You will,” the lord returned. “You will be begging God for death.”

“I know not of your God. But I know of your law,” Kemuri replied. “And I demand trial.”

The lord looked at the surrounding soldiers, all of whom were staring at Kemuri with bewilderment. The lord eyed them all, then burst into roaring laughter. The soldiers, along with the onlookers, all joined in moments later.

Minutes later, the lord finally composed himself and stared at Kemuri’s serious expression. He fought more laughter as he asked, “Why do you wish to waste time with a trial?”

“A trial by combat,” Kemuri clarified.

The lord’s smile widened. It was a disturbing sight. He extended his arms out. “Did everyone hear that!?” He looked around. “The savage wants a trial by combat.”

The crowd commotion became a mix of laughter and surprise.

“Alright, savage. You shall have it.” The lord turned to Henry. “Go fetch Demon. Gather everyone in the square. I want everyone to witness this.”

“Yes, Sire.” Henry turned and hurried away.

The lord looked back at Kemuri with a sinister grin on his face. “Take him to the dungeon until everything is prepared.” He eyed them. “And be polite. I do not want any damage to occur before tonight.”

“Yes, sire.”

Two soldiers he didn’t recognize grabbed Kemuri and hurried away toward a building to their right.

 

It was nightfall when the door to the cell opened and a redcoat guard demanded, “On your feet, savage.”

Kemuri stood from his seated position on the ground and stepped toward the cell door. Three others joined them as they escorted him through the narrow corridor, past a few more cells, and to the stairs. They exited the building and walked to the right, down a wide cobblestone path.

There were dozens of people on either side of the open square. Most were soldiers, though there were several in noble dress. Kemuri scanned the crowd and found a familiar face.

They walked him to one side where he was told to stop. He looked around to find the lord, along with his son and wife, watching from an elevated balcony that overlooked the entire square. Henry, along with another high-ranking soldier, stood with them.

The lord looked down to a few others and nodded. “Bring in Demon.”

Those who had escorted Kemuri hurried away. The crowd murmured and moved away as a monstrous man walked through moments later. He stood over seven feet tall. His arms were nearly as thick as other men’s legs. He wore nothing but black breeches and boots, revealing a chest and abdomen of thick muscle. His massive hand held a broadsword taller than Kemuri. No one dared get in his way. Several people moved as though their lives depended on it. Kemuri knew this to be literal.

The man stopped opposite Kemuri and stared at him. His head was large yet looked small on his massive frame. His eyes were dark and sunken into his face. He had a thin beard of black that covered a blunt chin.

“You wanted a trial by combat,” the lord began loud enough to silence any commotion. “This is my champion. Find someone willing to be yours… if anyone dares.”

The crowd murmured to one another again.

“I am own champion,” Kemuri announced.

Bursts of laughter erupted from the crowd.

The lord, however, simply smiled. “Then let it begin.” His gaze moved to the massive man opposite Kemuri. “Demon.” The large man turned and looked up to him. “Make him suffer.”

Demon grunted and took a step forward.

Kemuri unbuttoned his coat and let it fall behind him. “They call you Demon?” He asked as he moved forward.

The man grunted and lifted the broadsword.

“Let me see if I can make an honest man out of you.” Kemuri pulled his version of a chain-sickle, the weapon he had named Seikyo, from his torso and looked up at the monstrous man. The height difference was comical.

Kemuri suddenly shifted to the side and the massive sword struck the ground where he had stood. As though the massive sword weighed nothing, Demon shifted and swung up at Kemuri. Kemuri deftly moved out of the way again. And again. And again.

The crowd murmured as they watched him avoid blows that could have cut through stone.

When Kemuri ducked another swing and moved his hand up so fast it was barely visible, the silence that fell was deafening until the scream emanated from Demon as his hand fell to the ground. The massive sword dropped beside the severed hand with an audible thud.

Kemuri continued his motion, turned, and drove the blade on his chain into Demon’s opposite shoulder, then slid it across his chest. Blood poured out from the cut. Kemuri pulled the blade out, shifted, and sliced along Demon’s stomach. He finished his turn, with his eyes up at the lord, his back to his opponent.

Blood dripped from the blade to the ground as Demon collapsed behind him. His screams had turned to gargled mutters from the blood pouring from his mouth.

“It seems your God favors me, this day, Lord Charles,” Kemuri called into the stunned silence.

Heads turned to the lord, uncertain of what to do.

The lord’s glare deepened with every passing second. He refused to look away from Kemuri’s gaze as sounds from Demon faded away.

Finally, minutes after Demon bled out, the words were nearly a whisper, “Seize him.”

Soldiers that had surrounded the fight immediately moved forward; pistols aimed at Kemuri.

“Sire!” Henry pleaded.

The commotion amongst the crowd erupted into mutters of disagreement.

Two of the soldiers stepped forward and gripped Kemuri on either side, holding his upper arms. One of them gripped the chain in his hand, though Kemuri did not let go of the handle.

“He won the combat, Sire,” Henry pleaded. “He should go free.”

“No, father!” the boy insisted.

“He won the combat!” Henry repeated.

The sounds from Demon ceased completely. His death had taken several minutes of anguished torment.

Kemuri continued to look up at the lord, not acknowledging the soldiers, nor the pistols aimed at him. “You should listen to your advisor.”

Without turning away from Kemuri’s gaze, the words came out as a cold declaration, “Kill him.”

One soldier pulled a dagger from his belt and stepped forward. Kemuri did not hesitate; he flipped the switch on the handle and pulled. Small spikes erupted from within the chain and sliced through the hand of the soldier holding it. As he cried out in pain, Kemuri slid the other switch down and the blade erupted from within the handle. He turned and slid that blade into the thigh of the other soldier holding him.

Without hesitation, Kemuri spun, swinging his chain around his head as he stepped behind the soldier crying out in pain. Pistols erupted and smoke filled the night air. Nearly every soldier that had his weapon trained on Kemuri had fired. There was a clear sound of impact and a gurgled cry.

Seconds later, as the smoke cleared, there was a brief sound and the blade of Kemuri’s chain swung through the air, slicing through the stomachs of half of the soldiers. Muffled cries echoed, and those on the other side all turned to see their fellow soldiers fall to the ground. Before they could process what had happened, the sound of metal slicing through air returned, and their cries rang out.

When the smoke finally settled, one soldier was on the ground, several holes in his chest and arm, another soldier crying out, gripping his leg, with the rest on the ground bleeding profusely from the stomach. One soldier remained on his feet, standing in the middle of what had been the line. He stared, with wide eyes, as Kemuri stood a few feet from him, eyes on him. Without adverting his gaze, Kemuri swung the chain, moved his hand, and sent the blade in the opposite direction, straight across the throat of the soldier that was gripping his leg.

“Knights!” the lord cried out.

Kemuri did not move. He stared at the one soldier he had not killed. He held his gun raised, but his hand was shaking. He had not fired.

“Move!” a deep voice cried out.

Five men in full armor pushed through the crowd of shocked onlookers that had not fled.

They were all tall, though not as tall as Demon. All five wore metal armor that covered them from head to toe. And each carried a large broadsword.

Kemuri spoke to the lone soldier, “You should go.”

The young man nodded quickly, lowered his pistol, turned, and ran.

Henry leaned over the balcony to the soldiers beneath him and uttered an order.

The five knights made their way through the others and faced off with Kemuri. Unlike the other soldiers, however, they did not remain in a line but spread out to surround him.

Kemuri smiled and let the blade drop to the ground. “I would advise you not do this.” He moved to the balcony and met the lord’s eyes.

The lord glared. “You will not leave this place alive.”

Kemuri chuckled. “We shall see.”

He moved as the knights attacked. His movements were precise and calculated. He avoided swing after swing of the broadswords, waiting for his openings. They came, though gradually.

Precise swings and jabs sent the blade on his chain into the elbows, knees, and thighs of the knights, where the armor was bound. The openings were minute, barely accessible, yet each slice found its mark. He did not design the attacks to be fatal, merely weakening. Within moments, each knight had slowed, their movements more cautious. That was when Kemuri altered his aim. One by one, slices found their marks along the barely exposed neck of each knight. Within minutes of the attack, all five knights were on the ground, blood pooling beneath their bodies.

It incensed the lord. He turned and slammed his goblet into the wall hard enough to crack it. He turned and lifted the table, flipping it over, before he picked it up and slammed it into the same wall.

The boy was curled in a ball in the corner, whimpering. His mother rushed over to him and opened her arms. The only thing he had ever feared was his father’s temper. With tears in his eyes, he pressed himself against her as she wrapped her arms around him.

“Look around, you savage bastard, you are surrounded by soldiers,” the lord called down.

Kemuri turned and looked up at him. “And how many do you wish to lose because of your ego?” He leaned down and wiped the blood from his blade on the clothing of a fallen soldier. “I won the trial. I am free to go.”

The lord ground his teeth and gripped the edge of the balcony hard enough to turn his knuckles white. “Fine,” he growled. “But if I see you again, I will kill you.”

Kemuri gave him a small smile. “You will never see me again. I give you my word.”

The lord spat, turned, and walked from the balcony. “Get the other lords in my chambers now!” he ordered as he walked by Henry.

 

The long table was in the center of the large room. Several men were seated on either side, with Lord Charles at the head. His anger had not lessened since the debacle in the square an hour prior.

Reginald sat beside him, as always. Sir Henry, his trusted advisor, was standing just behind him to his left. A few trusted generals were acting as guards at the door.

“Gentlemen, we have a problem,” Charles began. He looked from face to face. “Several, in fact. First, and most obvious, is Demon is dead.”

Those that had not been present for the fight widened their eyes and looked around, as though it could not be real.

“He, along with several others, were killed in an attack on everything we represent. And this man,” Charles motioned to the far corner, “supported it.”

Three soldiers escorted the lone soldier that had survived Kemuri closer to the table.

“He did not fire his weapon at the intruder and should be held responsible for the deaths.”

“But sire…” he was cut off as one soldier holding him struck him hard in the stomach. He had bruises all over his face and arms from the beatings he had been enduring since they found him. He glared at both men that held him before he turned back to the lord. “Sire, he won his trial. He earned the right to leave peacefully.”

“And what of your fellow officers he murdered?” Charles demanded. He stood and approached him.

“They made their choice. I made mine,” the soldier said, head high. “I will answer to God, Sire.”

“You will answer to me, first.” Charles struck him across the face hard enough to cause the young man to fall. Charles groaned and flexed his hand as he turned away to speak to the others, “Unlike the coward here, good, loyal, faithful British officers, who were supposed to take care of a troublesome young woman were found dead not long ago,” Charles said. “One of them had his genitals crushed.”

Several of them winced at the image that appeared in their heads.

“She has yet to be found,” Charles continued. “We will contact her family in the morning and ensure they turn her over. If she is not found, they will suffer the penalties for her crimes.” He exhaled a long breath. “Lastly, this foreigner that is in our land must be dealt with.”

Those who had witnessed everything nodded in nervous agreement.

“I have men following him to know where he goes. I will not allow him to surprise us again,” Charles declared. “We must find these criminals and make examples out of them. At all costs. Is that clear?” He returned to his seat.

“Yes, my Lord,” the rest agreed.

Charles looked at the soldier who had disobeyed and did not do as he had been instructed. “I want him whipped first thing in the morning.”

“Please, Sire!” the young man pleaded.

“I would not advise that,” a strange voice announced.

Everyone looked around the room, seeking its source.

“Who dares to question me!?” Charles demanded. He stood, anger growing within him. His face was reddening with fury. “Speak up, you coward.”

“I did,” the voice stated.

Again, everyone looked around.

“Show yourself!” Charles growled.

Suddenly, he straightened, back stiff, head tilted up and to the side. Everyone looked at him, uncertain. He said nothing, but his eyes had changed. The anger was there, but fear was taking over. His arms swung around, desperately trying to hit something. His mouth appeared to be held closed.

His eyes moved around, uncertain and terrified. Then, without warning, they exploded in a spray of blood.

Charles screamed in agony and fell to the floor. The lords were on their feet, backpedaling away. The generals in the room had swords drawn and were moving forward, toward the fallen lord.

Before anyone got within five feet of Charles, smoke emanated from thin air. Seconds later, Kemuri was standing there, with blood covering both thumbs. He turned to look at everyone in the room. His gray eyes were returning to their usual brown.

Charles was screaming in agony, hands covering his face, body shaking.

“I told him he would never see me again,” Kemuri said, conversationally. “And I keep my word.” He turned and eyed one general slowly moving closer. “I would advise against that, boy.” His accent was thick, but he no longer spoke in broken English. The general considered before he stepped back and lowered his sword.

There were several lords on their feet, looking around for the exit. He never gave them the chance.

“Sit. Down.” Kemuri’s voice was arctic.

They obeyed without a thought as the fear had taken control.

Kemuri eyed Henry, then the boy. “You are a sick child. You have hurt innocents for your pleasure and your fun. You have made servants harm one another, even beating one another to death.” He leaned down toward the cowering boy. “The fear you are feeling now, the helplessness, this is what you cause others to feel. If you do not change, I will return and cause you much worse. The choice is yours. Do you understand me, boy?”

The boy’s wide eyes stared at him. Finally, he nodded.

Kemuri wiped the blood on his thumbs onto the boy’s otherwise pristine shirt, stood, and addressed the room. “You believe yourselves powerful men. You are not. You are weak children born into entitlement. You view peasants and Scots as animals, things to serve you.” He turned and glared at the struggling Lord Charles. “You believe it is your right to bed a woman on her wedding night, simply because she is a peasant on your land.” He motioned down to Charles, no longer crying out as he went into shock. “Or you feel you can rape a woman as her husband is being whipped to death for your amusement.” He looked around the room. “I won my trial. Yet, it was ordered to break your own laws because what had happened did not fit what you desired.” He pointed to the young man who had not fired his weapon. “He still breathes because he did the right thing. Now it is your turn.” He met the eyes of each man in the room. “You have all committed atrocities to those you feel are beneath you because you believe yourselves to be blessed by God. The next time you harm an innocent, in any way, I will show you that your God wants nothing to do with you.” He stepped over and lifted Charles by the hair. “But I will introduce you to those who do.” The blade that no one had realized was in his hand, sliced across the lord’s neck.

Blood fountained out from the wound. There were no sounds louder than a muted gargle that escaped his lips.

Kemuri eyed the room as he held the lord’s head in place, letting the blood spray out at the other lords. No one moved; all frozen in fear.

Kemuri offered a last smile before smoke rose from his skin. “And you will never know if I am near.” By the end of the sentence, his skin was completely transparent.

Charles shifted forward and his body hit the floor with an audible sound that echoed in the silent room. Moments later, the door opened, seemingly of its own volition, and swung closed.

 

“That was rather theatrical,” Amelia commented as Kemuri walked down the corridor.

He turned and smiled, though she could not see it. He looked around to see soldiers walking around. Amelia was standing against a wall, arms folded neatly in front of her body. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“Of course,” she replied. “Though, I believe you have been holding back with us.” She lowered her voice as a soldier walked past her.

Kemuri waited until the redcoat was far enough away. “A necessity. Training works best in levels. When the time comes, I will no longer hold myself back.”

“I look forward to it.”

Kemuri gave a soft chuckle. “I will see you at the wedding?”

Amelia nodded. “Is that why you did this; because of Breonna?”

Kemuri hesitated. “I met the Fitzgibbons family not long after training had begun. Unlike most, they were kind to me, accepting. They even offered me food.” He paused as a noblewoman neared. “Regardless of how I look and sound, they treat me like a person. They deserve the same respect. And Breonna deserves to spend the night she is wed with her husband.”

“Yes, they do,” Amelia agreed.

“I saw it as a favor I wished to repay.”

“Like me repaying you for saving my life.”

He chuckled. “You owed me nothing.”

She looked nearly directly at him, though she still could not see him. “I did. I still do.”

Though she could not see it, Kemuri glanced down the corridor he had come from and smiled. “Happy hunting.”

Amelia winked at him and pushed herself from the wall. She turned and walked down the corridor, offering a curtsey to the high-ranking officers she passed. She neared the door to the chambers Lord Charles always used for his meetings with the other nobles; all those that lived in the area, that is.

They centralized this area to several Scottish towns, which allowed the English noblemen to be amongst themselves, yet still near the villages and people they ruled.

Amelia silently opened the door. The commotion and panic was loud in her ears. She closed the door without making a sound. She took a step inside to see the lords arguing with one another. Lord Charles’s body was still on the floor. It looked as bad as it had sounded. And smelled.

“Oh my,” she said as she neared the table.

Everyone leapt in surprise.

“You!?” Henry declared, gesturing to her. “This is your fault.”

“Mine?” she asked, innocently. “I did nothing wrong, Sir Henry.”

“You gain our attentions.”

“I called for help. Which you did not show a desire to supply. Not without cost, anyway.”

“You murdered two British officers,” Henry snapped back.

“Bad things happen to soldiers in those parts all the time.”

Sir Henry’s eyes widened. He had said something very similar to Rupert before they had departed. There was no way she would have heard him. He stared at her. “How?”

She stepped closer and tilted her head toward him. She moved exactly right, to allow him to see her eyes for the first time. His eyes widened even further, and he took a step back.

“Miss!” One officer stepped near her.

“Leave her be!” Henry insisted.

The other lords were paying attention to the encounter now.

Henry bowed his head. “I offer my apologies.” He paused, as though uncertain of himself, before he added, “You should have mentioned this during our first encounter.”

“A debt needed to be paid,” she replied. “Which is why I did what I did to your officers.”

Henry swallowed. “Our truce…”

“Is still in effect, of course,” Amelia finished. “I simply defended myself. No sense in starting wars where they need not be. Besides,” she glanced past him to the lord’s body, “it seems you have more pressing issues.”

Henry lowered his eyes, refusing to look behind him. “Yes.”

Amelia looked around the room, “Where is the boy?”

“His mother thought it best to get him away from his father’s remains.”

Amelia nodded. “Wise decision. Though, I would have liked to see him again. Perhaps another time.” She met his gaze. “I pray he listened to the foreigner. Because, Sir Henry, I can assure you, he meant what he said.”

Henry said nothing, and simply nodded.

Amelia recognized the look of fear and smiled. She then looked around the room, “Where is the officer that refused to fire?”

“You witnessed the fight?”

“Of course. I was in the crowd and enjoyed the show,” she replied. “Especially when a single officer insisted on doing the right thing. Even if that meant standing up to and facing the wrath of his demented lord.”

Henry’s eyes raised in confusion. He met her gaze and sighed. “Ian!”

The soldier was being held by the same soldiers in the far corner of the room. All of them had lost expressions on their faces. It took a second call to gain his attention.

“Sir!” the young man called.

“You will escort this young woman home.”

“Sir?” the man asked, stepping away from the others, who were just as confused as him.

Henry looked at Amelia. “Will he be returning?”

“That is his decision to make.” She turned toward the approaching man. He curled an arm, and she slid her hand through it. “What is your name, soldier?”

“Ian, Madam.”

Without another word, Amelia started for the door, leading Ian with her. “Tell me, Ian, do you have family?”

He shook his head, “No, ma’am.”

“Would you like one?”

The young man eyed her curiously. “A family, ma’am?”

Amelia smiled. “Perhaps pack is more accurate.”

They walked out together.