Utena, Revolutionary Girl Fan Fiction ❯ Love's Honor ❯ Chapter Ten ( Chapter 10 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Chapter Ten

Clouds continued to race across the sky, alternately
allowing the sunshine to pierce the evergreen canopy and
form pools of bright radiance onto the forest floor and
plunging the deep woods into further shadow. The party of
nobles and followers made their way along the well-worn dirt
trail, finally letting their mounts take to a more relaxed
stride now that they were well on their way toward the
border of the Kaoru lands.

Saionji had set their earlier, hastier pace. At the head of
the group, the emerald-haired chieftain had continued to be
anxious to just get some distance between himself and the
site of his near-humiliation. Only when they were deep into
the forest that loomed over the river did Saionji's
thunderous expression finally soften, and he let his
gorgeous courser travel at anything slower than a trot.

Riding side by side, Touga and Utena had followed at the
same pace, the group of warriors, men at arms and
handmaidens arranged around them. Considering their rapid
speed, they had traveled then in silence, the normal sounds
of the woods broken only by the sound of hooves against the
earth and the jingle of their tack.

However, the more leisurely walk wouldn't do either, Touga
realized when he glanced up to see what he could of the sky
through the deep green evergreen boughs high above.
Frowning as he took note of the angle of the sunlight, he
urged his mount forward and drew next to his friend.
"Saionji."

"Aye?" the verdant-maned chieftain responded, looking at the
other man.

"Nightfall will catch us still on the southern edge of your
lands," Touga pointed out. "We didn't exactly bring with us
equipment with which to camp. Is there any place there
where we can shelter for the night?"

"There's a hunting lodge near the path once we reach the
foot of the ridge," Saionji replied, glancing skyward with a
scowl. "Damn me for my impetuousness. I never even stopped
to consider the possibility of being caught out in the
dark."

"No matter," the redheaded nobleman said, his tone
reassuring. "The lodge should be enough. I don't
anticipate trouble on your lands. Do you?"

"Hardly," the other lord muttered. "They may not trust me
just yet, but I *am* chieftain. And they know better than
to rekindle the feud between us."

"I didn't mean your clan, Saionji."

"Hrmph. If you meant bandits, outlaws and such ilk, then
again they know better than that," the curly-maned noble
insisted. "Besides, one of the first things I did when
Father took ill and I started ruling for him was to offer
amnesty to anyone outlawed who could prove that they were
unfairly branded criminal."

"Indeed?" Touga asked, impressed by his friend's foresight.

"A number of manors had been mismanaged, sadly enough. But
at the least, the number of outlaws within my forests have
decreased."

"I'm curious . . . How did you manage their cases?" the
scarlet-maned chieftain queried.

Saionji glanced over at his foster brother, giving the other
a sardonic smile while recalling the scene of only two days
ago, where Touga had plead for mercy. "Fairly. Those
wrongly accused were released while those with mitigating
circumstances were given lenient sentences. I'm not totally
ignorant of the concept of justice with mercy."

"I never thought you were," Touga assured him. "Well, then
. . . We shall reach this lodge of yours come nightfall,
correct?"

"Aye, though it will be close."

"Pick up the pace some then, my friend. I'll drop back and
tell the lady of our plans."

"Very well," replied Saionji. Gently tapping his heels
against his horse's flanks, he pulled on ahead, his
entourage of clan warriors speeding up to match his mount's
gait.

At the same moment, Touga tugged lightly on his courser's
reins. The stallion hesitated in its walk, allowing the
boyishly-attired maiden to catch up. Drawing abreast of
her, he gave his mount the signal to continue forward,
saying, "Since it appears that we cannot reach Pinehaven
before twilight, it's been decided that we'll spend the
night in one of Saionji's hunting lodges."

Utena nodded slightly, the feathers of her cap's cockade
ruffling gently. Most nobles with holdings -- even modestly
extensive ones -- had scattered about their lands small,
slightly fortified but easily defensible shelters that, from
the outside, appeared much like any other manor house
dotting the landscape. However, such places had no fields,
and the only peasants there were the caretakers that lived
in cottages nearby. Such lodges were not permanent homes
but rather temporary lodging for the lord and his entourage
should he be traveling or hunting, the lord's rangers who
watched over the game animals of the demesne's forests, or
the lord's heralds if they were sent out to deliver a
message. Though in the lowlands most hunting lodges were
exclusively for the use of a lord, his family or his
officers, Utena was aware of the fact that in the highlands,
such places were considered the property of the clan as a
whole and any clanmember could use the facilities as an
emergency shelter.

"Very well," she replied, smiling. "It would certainly be
much better than either continuing to travel into the night
or trying to sleep in only the shelter of the forest."

"Indeed," the scarlet-maned chieftain said in agreement.

Behind them, the ponytailed Wakaba kept her gaze fastened to
the emerald shimmer of the Saionji prince's thick, curly
hair. "Isn't he wonderful?" she sighed in admiration.

Next to her, both Shiori to her right and Tatsuya to her
left frowned at her softly spoken words. Her violet eyes
darting about their surroundings for what seemed to Ryu to
be the hundredth time, Shiori lightly sneered, "That all
depends. He's got a temper, and Lady Kozue almost ruined
him."

"It's not his fault that he's so misunderstood," the younger
brunette insisted, turning to glare at the other lady in
waiting.

"Misunderstood," Shiori repeated, her violet gaze dropping
to stare for a moment at a ring upon her finger before
glancing about the party's woodland surroundings yet again.
"You do realize how hopeless this infatuation of yours is,
don't you, Wakaba? After all, you're a mere servant while
he's a great lord."

The ponytailed brunette silently bristled in anger.
Something about the other's tone of voice gave Wakaba the
impression that Shiori somehow considered herself better
than her fellow peasant. Brown eyes narrowing in fury,
Wakaba opened her mouth to give Shiori a scathing retort.

A deadly hissing sound filled the air, followed by sickly
hollow thuds and the screams of pain from man and horse
alike, interrupting the brunette handmaiden. Looking around
in shock, it took a short moment for the feathered shafts
and the blood to register.

They were under attack!

Saionji bit back a shout, his right shoulder feeling as if
it was on fire. Yanking hard on the reins of his mount, he
turned to stare back at the initial damage the volley of
arrows had done, ignoring the tickling sensation of blood
running down his skin. Two warriors from each clan were
down, their suddenly riderless horses bolting; the fact that
they laid there silently testified to the deadly accuracy of
at least some of the archers hidden in the brush around
them. Another pair of horses foundered, the clansmen riding
them jumping free and drawing their swords. "To the trees!"
the green-haired chieftain shouted, paying little heed to
the pain that burned across the top of his shoulder as he
drew his own blade.

Steel whispered against wood as Touga bared his weapon. The
first volley had apparently been aimed at the nobles'
escort; it would be a good bet that the next would target
them. Saionji had the right of it: they needed to get out
of the road where they continued to present themselves as
clear targets. "Take shelter, then find and kill them!" he
ordered, his glance turning to the rose-haired maiden at his
side.

Utena sat there astride her mare, her sea-blue eyes wide in
horror. Ambushed just as her parents were! The lingering
memory of those terrifying moments blended into the here and
now, leaving her virtually paralyzed.

"Utena! Go!" Touga yelled, instantly concerned at seeing her
apparently frozen in fear.

His voice cut through the haze, pulling her attention to
him. For a fraction of an instant, she could see the image
of a scarlet-haired boy of about ten winters overlaid upon
the sight of the man he had become, the echo of his
once-youthful voice striking a chord within her mind. Then
she was fully back to reality, and with it returned both the
memory of her promise to herself and her determination.
(No! I refuse to be helpless!)

Pulling her shortsword from its scabbard, she gave voice to
a battle cry and dug her heels against the flanks of her
palfrey. The white mare leapt into action, heading for the
brush alongside the road in the direction she'd noted some
of the arrows had come.

Touga tugged on his courser's reins; the stallion wheeled
toward where the boyishly-attired girl had disappeared into
the foliage. Then came another hiss of feathered death;
lord and mount both cried out as an arrow sank straight
through the flesh above Touga's left knee into the horse
underneath, effectively pinning him to his mount. Hissing
in a breath in agony, he continued riding forward,
determined to keep his focus on eliminating the threat --
though every step of his stallion made his wounded leg flare
up in renewed pain.

Around him, he could hear the telltale sounds of steel
against steel. Looking to the left, he watched as Utena
efficiently parried one of the attacker's blows then
dispatched him with a backswing that flayed open his throat.
Blood exploded outwards as the rose-haired maiden closed to
engage another of the dark-clad strangers. Tossing aside
his bow, the man drew a sword and met her halfway, their
blades ringing against one another with the clash.
Elsewhere, Touga could hear the sounds of combat, but none
of his party was close enough for him to see how they were
faring. Noting another of the attackers preparing to loose
yet another arrow, the scarlet-maned chieftain ran him down
with his courser as he went on the offensive. The first
slash neatly cleaved the man's bow, sending the feathered
shaft falling to the forest floor. The second swing ripped
across the stranger's front, shredding his dark-hued leather
jerkin and leaving a crimson line of cloven flesh in its
wake.

The man stumbled back with a scream, then pulled free his
own blade; another clash of steel as Touga's next blow was
frantically parried by his foe, the man's empty hand pressed
against the wound across his chest. Leaning over his
stallion's neck was no easy feat due to the arrow protruding
through Touga's leg limiting his range of motion. Agony and
training combined to give him a focus as sharp as his blade.

Slapping aside the man's attempt at a jab, Touga stabbed
back with a forceful blow in the opening presented. The man
fell back to the ground, gurgling his last, his breast
pierced through the heart. Pulling his sword out, Touga
straightened up then pulled on the reins; the stallion
swiftly turned to the right and together they moved closer
to where Utena sat searching for more strangers to dispatch.

Nearby shouts and the ring of steel continued to echo
through the evergreens as a trio of black-clad men appeared
as if by magic to surround Utena. Momentarily surprised,
both the pink-haired girl and the Kiryuu prince sat there as
the men swarmed her, one taking hold of the bridle of her
mount and the other two attempting to pull her from the
saddle.

The feel of hands roughly grabbing her made Utena lash out
in pure instinct; stabbing viciously downward, the young
noblewoman was rewarded by the feel of her blade sinking
deep into flesh accompanied by an anguished scream and the
snap of bone.

The wounded assailant fell back. Her left hand yanking hard
on the reins in an attempt to regain control over her
palfrey, the boyishly-attired maiden slashed at the other
man trying to yank her down. The stranger staggered back,
releasing his hold; to do otherwise would have risked him
losing a hand to his target's blade.

Touga closed the distance rapidly, thrusting downward at the
dark-attired stranger who had dared attempt to wrest control
of the lady's palfrey. Steel met steel with an echoing
clash, the man parrying the Red Tyger's glittering
longsword. The scarlet-haired chieftain grimly battled on,
determined to cut the man down.

Sunlight flashed off silver metal as the man accosting the
pink-clad girl drew his own sword and jabbed upward at her.
Sucking in a breath, Utena forcefully leaned back; she found
herself staring at the deadly blade scant inches away from
her face while her hat tumbled to the forest floor and her
hair fell around her in a cascade of rose-hued curls.

With a growl, the noblewoman shoved the sword away with her
own weapon then pressed an attack. The exchange was brief
but violent, ending when Utena deftly disarmed the man with
a twisting thrust of her dirk then slashed his throat with
the follow-through. The stranger fell with a sickly
gurgling sound.

She turned her attention to the struggle next to her,
aqua-hued eyes wide as she watched a blistering exchange of
blows between another of the dastards and the Kiryuu prince.
Urging her mare to a better position, Utena lashed out with
her shortsword, burying it to the hilt in the man's back.
Caught in a struggle for survival instead of taking part in
a tournament or contest of honor, anything was fair game --
including a stab in the back.

Touga stayed his hand, the scarlet-haired lord surprised to
see his foe abruptly go rigid, the light of life in his eyes
fading even as the Red Tyger stared at him. Looking beyond
the dead body while it fell to the detritus-strewn ground,
the Kiryuu chieftain blinked as he caught sight again of his
feminine companion.

Blood-spattered, the crimson bright against her palfrey's
light-colored coat and her pink-hued clothing, her hair was
flowing loosely about her head and shoulders while her
sea-blue eyes were alight with fiery determination. She
appeared the very image of a battle maiden, one of the
heavenly host come to earth to crush all who would oppose
her. And in that very moment, he realized that she was no
thornless rose that needed someone to protect her, to decide
for her what was safe and what was not. Perhaps once, long
ago, she truly needed someone to be a guardian.

She had grown up, blossoming into a woman that would make
any highlander proud despite her lowland blood.

Just then, a thunderous battle cry sounded, off to the
right. Focusing on the familiar voice and tearing his gaze
from the enchanting lady, Touga allowed himself a slight
smile. (I do believe Saionji's having a bit of fun,) he
silently joked, trying to make light of the grim situation.
Doing his best to ignore the throbbing pain in his pierced
leg, he signaled his courser to make its way toward the
sound. The jingling of tack and the thud of a horse's
hooves told him that Utena was following his lead.

In all honesty, the emerald-haired prince was having a more
amusing time of it now that the majority of the curs had
been dispatched. His sword stained crimson with the blood
of a quartet of strangers who were even now dead meat slowly
cooling against the forest floor, he raised it high above
his head as he galloped after the fifth would-be assassin
he'd targeted. Rapidly approaching the man's back, he
slashed viciously downward; leather jerkin and flesh alike
parted at the slash of razor-sharp metal.

The man tumbled to the earth; ignoring the throbbing pain in
his shoulder -- easy to do with battle lust filling his
awareness -- Saionji jumped to the ground from his perch
atop his courser and slammed down on the man's head with the
hilt of his longsword. Grunting in satisfaction as his foe
collapsed limply, stunned, the verdant-maned chieftain
straightened up and quickly scanned his surroundings with
his violet gaze.

No other threats were immediately apparent. The remaining
Kiryuu and Saionji warriors were loosely ringed around the
two handmaidens, one of the lowlander lady's men at arms
with the other men. All of them stood at the ready, though
nothing more emerged from the forest to engage them.
Absently planting a booted foot on the downed man's bleeding
back -- should the man begin to stir with returning
consciousness, the vibrations of his movement would alert
the prince to take further action -- Saionji stood still,
straining his hearing as well as his sight.

A tense quiet settled over the scene. Discovering no clues
to even more of the damned strangers appearing seemingly out
of nowhere, the green-haired lord made a sound of
satisfaction as he turned his attention to the one
still-living man. Dressed in a tunic of dark green and
trews of deep brown -- both hues ones which blended well
with the colors and shadow of the forest -- with black
leather boots and a jerkin of the same material giving some
protection over the torso, a wide leather belt around his
waist under which was thrust a wooden scabbard and a quiver
holding a few black-fletched arrows strapped across his back
above where he was bleeding, there was nothing about the
dark-haired man to give away whom his master was.

The rustle of foliage instantly caught his notice; light
glimmered darkly against red-stained metal as Saionji
whirled to face the direction of the sound, taking a ready
stance. The moment he saw it was Touga and the fey-seeming
lowlander woman, he sighed in relief and relaxed. "Where
were you? You missed all the excitement," he mildly teased,
his gruff exterior hiding the sudden concern he had as his
violet gaze focused on the arrow protruding from Touga's
lower thigh.

"Off for a relaxing ride in the woods," the redheaded prince
responded in kind to his friend's joke. Becoming serious
once more, he glanced around. "No others?"

"Doesn't seem to be any more of the accursed dogs," Saionji
acknowledged. Glancing down, he gave the body at his feet a
shove with the booted foot that had been resting on it.
"Captured one. Hopefully we'll find out who set their
hounds on us."

"Any clues?"

"Not a one," the verdant-maned chieftain said, snorting in
derision. Taking a moment to clean the steel of his sword
on the downed man's clothing, Saionji resheathed his blade
then bent down to pull the still stunned man to his feet.

Touga blinked, noting the crimson spot staining the shoulder
of his friend's tunic and the hole in the fabric there.
"Saionji? How badly are you wounded?"

The lord addressed glanced up and raised his eyebrows.
"What? You mean this?" he asked, nodding his head to the
right, indicating the blood-stained area in question. "It's
nothing, really. Got clipped by an arrow. Near as I can
tell, I had a small chunk torn from me, but nothing vital.
Though I do want to make *someone* pay for giving me a new
scar to bear." Saionji then turned his head, calling out to
the trio of his remaining warriors, "Someone come hold this
cur!"

Two of the clansmen broke away from the ring surrounding the
women, hastening to answer their lord's summons. Though
wounded, they moved with relative ease, a hint that any
injuries were more likely not life-threatening ones.

Violet eyes narrowed in a vicious expression; his attention
once again focused on his captive, Saionji gave the dark
brunette man a violent shake. "Wake up, mongrel, and tell
us who your master is," he growled. The moment his
retainers took hold of the prisoner, the emerald-maned
prince let go of him and stepped back.

The immediacy of the moment began to fade, bringing with it
a renewed awareness of the missile transfixing his leg.
Agony washed over Touga, the pain an intense throbbing in
time with his still-rapid heartbeat. Feeling suddenly
faint, the Kiryuu prince closed his eyes and tightened his
grip on the reins.

Watching the redheaded lord rapidly turn deathly pale, Utena
swung down from her saddle. The moment her feet touched
ground, she called out for Wakaba to join her. Of all the
members of their party, the two handmaidens were the only
ones not bloodstained in some manner. As the unusually
sedate handmaiden hastened to dismount from her palfrey and
run to her mistress's side, Utena swiftly drew next to Touga
and stared up at him. "Let me tend to your wound, my lord."

"You know something of chirurgery?" he asked.

"Aye, a little. 'Tis a handy skill when one travels often,"
the pink-attired maiden responded, slipping a hand carefully
between man and horse where the arrow pinned them to one
another. "Wakaba, fetch me my kit," she added the minute
the brown-eyed girl drew near. Wakaba nodded and moved
quickly to rummage through the saddlebags on the rose-haired
noble's palfrey. Meanwhile, Utena continued to gently probe
the wound.

Touga's stallion started, trying to pull away. Hissing in
renewed agony, the Kiryuu prince abruptly felt even more
lightheaded as he fought to keep his mount under control.

Utena swiftly withdrew her hand, her pale skin smeared with
human and equine blood alike. "Come hold his horse steady!"
she shouted to the other men there. At the same moment,
Wakaba returned to the noblewoman's side, hands clutching a
plain brown leather pouch.

The remaining Saionji and Kiryuu warriors, as well as
Tatsuya, quickly dismounted and rushed over to give the
oddly-dressed maiden what assistance they could. The men
surrounded the injured courser, one grabbing hold of the
animal's bridle.

"I said 'Tell me who your master is'!" Saionji yelled at his
prisoner, tiring of the staring game between the stranger
with dark brown hair and himself.

"Go rot in Hell for eternity, Saionji," the man snarled in
return.

"Tell me or suffer the consequences, mongrel," the
green-haired lord growled.

"Do your worst. I have nothing to fear from a gelded
gryphon such as you. Everyone knows that the Kiryuu
emasculated you," the stranger replied with a smirk.

Saionji blinked, momentarily astounded at the man's
effrontery. Just as most of the ruling chieftains of the
highlands were given colorful nicknames, the Saionji prince
had one as well based on his coat of arms. His shield being
a silver one bearing upon it the image of a rampaging green
gryphon facing to the left had given to the Saionji princes
the unofficial title of the Verdant Gryphon. His father
dead, that informal sobriquet was now Saionji's, just as the
official titles and the power had become. That this bag of
offal that called itself a human dared hint that part of his
being held hostage entailed that he was castrated made
Saionji lash out in pure fury. Snarling, he gave the man a
resounding open-handed slap across the face.

Were it not for the two grim-faced warriors holding him, the
darkly-clad stranger would have fallen to the forest floor
with the force of the angry lord's blow. It took him a
heartbeat to recover from the ringing in his ears, but when
he did, he gave his captor a leering grin. Noting the fury
burning in the noble's purple eyes, he knew it wouldn't take
much more to push the chieftain over the edge. "It's true,
isn't it," he murmured in a low voice while still smiling
coolly at the Saionji prince, "that the elder Kiryuu turned
you into a woman just to give his son a better plaything?"

A white-hot rage washed over Saionji. Without a thought,
his sword was pulled, then slashed viciously. Blood
abruptly burst out in a pulsing crimson fountain as the
stranger's dark-haired head fell to the ground. The pair of
Saionji warriors let go of the decapitated body, expressions
of startled awe on their faces while their chieftain yanked
his blade from where it had lodged in the man's right
shoulder. "I am no one's plaything," he snarled to the dead
body, wiping off his sword on a portion of the man's
clothing not drenched in blood.

Nearby, Utena drew her dagger, her free hand reaching up to
carefully hold the notched end of the missile transfixing
the Kiryuu prince's leg. "Hold as still as you can, my
lord," she murmured, setting the edge of the dagger against
the wooden shaft just under the black feathers. So close
was the fletching to Touga's leg that the flat of her
dagger's blade brushed against his bloodstained pants.

Sucking in a breath and holding it, the redheaded lord
braced himself. She would have to saw through the shaft
with the knife in order to remove the feathered end of the
arrow, and that meant the wound being unavoidably moved. As
the vibrations of the shaft made the throbbing agony worse,
Touga let his breath out slowly, doing his best to just
shrug it off. However, the dagger was sharp and the sawing
didn't take long for Utena to reach a point where she could
cleanly snap off the fletching. Dropping the mass of
feathers and wood to the detritus-strewn ground, she wiped
her blade off on her pink tunic's skirt and replaced the
knife.

Glancing up at him, she gave the handsome lord an
encouraging smile. "I know it's going to hurt, but this is
the best way. There's barely a handspan between you and
your horse, and the arrowhead's embedded deep enough into
your courser that I can barely feel the bumps made by the
points. If you can move your leg so that the arrow slides
through, that'll leave me enough shaft to grab hold of in
order to help remove the arrow from your horse."

Touga nodded, understanding. He at least could comprehend
what was happening and react in a way that facilitated the
outcome that would be the best for all involved, whereas his
courser Wind would only know that what was being done hurt
and would have no concept that such action would benefit
him. Glancing down, he frowned thoughtfully as he scanned
the angle of the slender rod of wood with his cobalt-blue
gaze. Bracing himself once more, he closed his eyes and
forced himself to move his injured limb upward and away from
his courser. A low groan of agony was involuntarily torn
from him while more pain -- and the odd sensation of
tortured flesh returning to its proper place -- lanced
through him; he grimly continued slowly pulling his thigh
off the arrow embedded through it. Wind neighed and jumped,
ramming into one of the warriors trying to hold him. The
violent jostling pulled the missile through the rest of the
way with a faint wetly-sucking sound. Gritting his teeth in
anticipation of the expected impact, the scarlet-haired
chieftain dismounted the only way he truly could; he let
himself fall to the ground, knocking the breath from him
when he landed hard on his unwounded side.

The moment he was safely on the ground, Utena dropped to
kneel at his side. Holding up a hand, she demanded of her
waiting handmaiden, "The shears, Wakaba." Feeling the cool
metal of the instrument in her palm, the young noblewoman
lowered her hand to poke the lower point of the forged iron
shears through the bloodstained fabric above the entry
wound. She quickly proceeded to cut the downed prince's
trews from his limb then tossed the cloth to the side, her
gaze focusing on the wound.

The twin holes were oozing, but otherwise the injury looked
clean. Apparently Touga had managed to keep his leg
relatively immobile while he was pinned. Handing the shears
back to the wide-eyed girl hovering nearby, Utena asked
Wakaba to go fetch her water bag, wanting to wash away the
blood before attempting to further treat the injury.

"So how bad is it?" the redheaded lord softly asked the
moment he had caught his breath. Raising himself up on an
elbow, the ends of his bright hair pooling against the
forest floor, he attempted to look at the wound as well.

"It appears you were lucky. I don't see any signs yet of
contamination, and the edges of the wound are smooth, not
ragged or torn." Glancing up as a shadow fell over her,
Utena gave her servant a smile and took the goatskin bag
full of potable water from the other girl. "Let me clean it
off so that I can see better what it is I'm doing . . ."

"Take your time, my lady," Touga replied, gently chuckling.
"It's not as if I'm going to be getting up any time soon."

"A couple of stitches to encourage the skin to mesh and
you'll be as good as new in no time," Utena responded,
fervently hoping that the wound wouldn't somehow fall prey
to putrefaction. Pulling the stopper from the bag's neck,
she gave the soft goatskin a squeeze, forcing out the clear
liquid within. For good measure, she poured some more into
each end of the injury, hoping the water would take with it
any splinters that may have happened to be broken from the
surface of the shaft; Touga moved his leg at her direction
to let her get to the wound on the inner side of his thigh,
closing his eyes and softly hissing as he did so.

While the rose-haired maiden and her rather subdued
handmaiden were tending to the other chieftain, Saionji
gestured to the two warriors near him to follow him. Still
appearing awestruck, they murmured their acquiescence then
trailed along after their lord as the verdant-maned prince
strode over to where the others were holding Touga's
courser. Pulling his dagger from its sheath on his belt,
Saionji looked over the arrow still protruding from the
animal's side. "Keep him as steady as you can," he ordered,
his voice gruff. The two clansmen hastened to do as their
chieftain had bidden while Saionji took hold of the wooden
shaft in his free hand.

Two quick slashes and a yank, helped along when Wind neighed
and attempted to rear up, and the arrow was free of the
horse. One of the Saionji warriors grabbed for the bridle,
helping Tatsuya keep the animal from pulling his head free
of the man at arm's grasp. A quick glance of violet eyes
and a grim smile; the missile was intact, the arrowhead
still attached to the shaft. With a sound of satisfaction,
Saionji dropped the object from his grasp. He then raked
his gaze over the other highlanders there. "Let the lady's
man hold Wind. Spread out and find those we're missing."
As they nodded and walked off in various directions, the
green-haired man added, muttering, "Let's see how bad it
really is . . ."

It was the worst it could have been. After gently
commanding Wakaba to bind Touga's leg tightly from a strip
torn from the hem of the rose-haired maiden's pink-hued
tunic before doing so, Utena then moved on to stitching up
the courser's wound. Meanwhile, the remaining highlanders
returned with only two of the runaway mounts and none of the
missing men. All were dead, leaving them just over half
their number alive and all but the three women wounded in
some manner. A short discussion followed, during which it
was reluctantly decided that the bodies of the dead would
have to be left behind. Day was inexorably on its way to
night, and should word reach the would-be assassins' master
that they had failed in their task, they could face another
fight. Should that happen, the nobles and their remaining
entourage would be hard-pressed to defend themselves once
more. Their best chance of survival would be to ride as
fast as possible for the hunting lodge on the Saionji lands,
as had been their original intent.

The moment they were all mounted again, a couple of the
highlander clansmen helping shove Touga back up into the
saddle, they were off, riding at a fast trot through the
evergreens.
________________

The fire was warm and cheerful, the dancing orange light
shining on the small group of people gathered there. Though
normally a time for relaxation and good-natured
conversation, the events of earlier that day kept everyone
in a dampened mood. A simple meal had been fixed with what
had been available in the lodge's stores, and the first
drink of the night had been a toast to the memory of the
fallen. After that, all of them had eaten in silence, their
minds on the ambush.

Poor Ryu, killed in the defense of his mistress and now his
body lying in the forest, meat for the scavengers. Utena
frowned slightly, dreading having to tell the young man's
mother of her son's fate. Memories came unbidden, of her
times with the brunette youth in her company, of the
conversations and events they'd shared in her travels.

Taking a swallow of his wine, Touga glanced over at the
melancholy-appearing woman. For him at least the pain,
blessedly, was beginning to fade somewhat under the
influence of the alcohol, though he certainly wasn't
planning on getting drunk like some of the others. Utena
sat there, her expression morose, finger rubbing idly
against the side of a pewter goblet. "It's always tough, my
lady, though as time goes on, it gets somewhat easier," the
redheaded lord said.

Utena blinked, then looked over at the man who spoke. "What
does?"

"Dealing with the fact that people die in your service," he
gently replied. "Though the ones that no longer care are
the ones to worry about."

"I just keep wondering what to tell his mother . . ."

"Just tell her the truth," Saionji said, his low voice for
once having a soft tone to it. "It can't ever give her back
her son, but to know that he died honorably should help
some."

"And I can't even send him back home for her to bury," Utena
sighed.

"On the morrow, my men and I are going to ride as fast as
possible to Pinehaven, my lady," Saionji responded. "I'm
going to bring back enough to guard this place and send men
into the Kaoru lands to bring them *all* home." He paused,
taking a sip from his cup. "I won't let any of them rot in
the wilderness. They deserve better."

"How's your shoulder?" Touga asked, flicking his dark blue
gaze over to his friend.

"Stiff, but otherwise all right." Saionji set the goblet
down, then slowly moved his right arm through its entire
range of motion, grimacing slightly at the pain.
"Functional, anyway."

"That's good." Frowning, the redheaded chieftain looked to
his bandaged leg. "I fear I'll be off my feet for a couple
of days."

"That's why you get to stay here, and why I'm going to bring
enough men to guard this place," the verdant-maned lord
replied.

"But what if someone comes while he's gone?" Shiori asked,
tilting her short-haired head slightly in curiosity. "That
would just leave Tatsuya and Lord Touga's man to guard our
lady, Lord Touga, Wakaba and me . . ."

"Can't be helped," Saionji muttered, the hair on the back of
his neck rising slightly as a shiver ran down his spine.
Something about that question put him on edge, though he
couldn't explain just what that something could be.
Inwardly, he decided to leave his own men behind, risking
the gallop from here to Pinehaven alone. He was on his own
lands now, and should be safe.

"I'm sure we'll be fine," Touga responded, nodding as the
men around him echoed the sentiments. "The lodge is
fortified and easily defended from the inside. And we are
on Saionji lands; I trust you have regular patrols to look
for any remaining troublemakers?"

"Of course," the Verdant Gryphon replied. "Wardens as well
as my warriors patrol my lands, watching for poachers,
raiders and outlaws alike. Still, those men that ambushed
us . . . Was it just me, or did they seem to come out of
nowhere?"

"They appeared as if they were spirits, m'lord," one of the
three remaining Saionji men answered, hazel eyes wide. "One
moment they were not to be seen, the next they were there,
on the attack."

"I don't like the fact that they were so close to the border
with our lands," muttered another of the surviving clansmen.
"Why didn't the Kaoru discover them sneaking about?"

"Maybe the fact that they did just appear has something to
do with it," Touga murmured, gazing into his goblet
thoughtfully.

"What are you thinking?" Saionji asked, recognizing the tone
of his friend's voice.

"Magic . . . I wonder if they didn't have some sort of
mystical help."

"But who would want us dead enough . . .?"

"I'm not certain that we were the targets, Saionji," the Red
Tyger said. "Aye, our men died. Aye, you and I both were
wounded. But some of those attackers were attempting to
drag Lady Utena from her horse."

"Ah . . ." Saionji replied, thinking back on the
conversation with Lord Miki. Not wanting to mention that in
front of the lady in question, he fell silent, purple gaze
focused on the dancing flames. Perhaps then the attack was
something instigated by Lord Akio in order to take into
custody the lady whom he sought. For a moment, he regretted
losing his temper and destroying the only means they had had
to discover for certain who had ordered the attack, though
the moment he recalled the man's words, he clenched a fist
in renewed fury.

From the sound of the comment, Touga was certain his foster
brother's thoughts had turned in the same direction his own
had. Lord Akio was more than likely the person behind the
incident, and the thought of the Phoenix somehow getting his
hands on the slender warrioress made him grit his teeth.
No, he certainly didn't wish to see Lady Utena somehow in
Ohtori's power.

"M'lady, I think it's time Wakaba and I retired for the
night," Shiori said, setting down her goblet.

Turning her sea-blue gaze to her handmaidens, the woman in
question nodded her head. The three of them were given one
of the lodge's rooms to share, the two ladies in waiting
assigned cots that were pulled from the closet and set up
for them. A third cot, situated next to the entrance of the
room, was awaiting Tatsuya -- as the sole survivor of her
guard, it was his place to sleep where he could bar the way
to anyone coming to attempt to molest any of the ladies
within. Knowing that it wouldn't be seemly to stay alone in
a roomful of men, no matter how much she wished to keep the
scarlet-maned chieftain company, Utena gracefully stood.
"Very well. I shall join you, since I too am feeling weary
from the day's events," she replied. Taking a step forward,
she paused and glanced back at the men continuing to sit
around the fire. "Good night to you all. We shall see you
on the morrow."

The chieftains and the warriors all murmured in response,
falling silent until the ladies were safely ensconced within
the room given to them for the night. After a number of
moments, during which the only sound that was heard was the
crackling of the fire, Touga took another drink from his
wine. "If the Phoenix is behind what happened today, he's
going to pay for it."

"You think he's the one?" Saionji asked.

"Those men were attempting to carry her off. It was obvious
they were trying to pull her from her palfrey."

"I wonder why he wants her so badly?" the emerald-maned
chieftain queried.

"I don't know. But I'm beginning to wonder if her quest has
something to do with it," Touga answered.

"Why do you say that?"

"Magic . . . Her quest has the feel of magic to it, and I
think those men had magic helping them." He gazed
thoughtfully into the heart of the flames. "She seeks the
champion of Love, some man who is an example of the virtues
sought after by those who revere Amor. But why?"

"She's not told you what it's all about yet?" Saionji asked.

"No, not a word. Though truly, it's something I want to do
for its sake alone."

"Oh? I thought you were doing it to win her hand," the
Gryphon replied. "And only that reason, since you're so set
on marrying her."

"I've changed. I can't easily explain it, but I want to be
this. I want to prove myself worthy as one who can do this
task the champion must perform. When I was standing there,
facing Lord Souji, it came to me . . . There's so much chaos
and hatred in the world that I want to be one that stands
against it, to be a shining beacon fighting against the
darkness."

"Touga?"

"Aye?"

"I think you truly have gone mad . . ."