FANFIC : PIRATES CHALLENGE : THE DRAGON AND THE FOXES

[laurose8.livejournal.com]

Title: The Dragon and the Foxes
Author: laurose
Fandom: Weiss Kreuz + Saiyuki
Rating: PG
Pairings: Schuldig/Ran : Gojyo/Sanzo : Nagi/Nanami
Genre: Fantasy
Warning: allusion to child molesting
Summary: hostility mounts between an alternate Japan and China
Disclaimer: Neither the Saiyuki nor the Weiss characters belong to me.
Thanks to my long-suffering beta, Sybil Rowan.
Author's notes: this alternate Japan may seem less backward, if you remember it's set in our nineteenth century. It's not meant to be better, or worse, only different.
I've kept the same surnames, but here they're inherited through the mother.



(Palace of Eternal Spring, in the hills of East China)


The Emperor of East China believed himself the incarnation of the Jade Emperor, Lord of Heaven. No one dared tell him otherwise, and quite a few profited from this belief.

His palace never let anyone forget it. As much of the building or furniture as could be was made of jade. The rest was inlaid with it. All silks and velvets were green. The few things brown or white looked out of place, but turned out to be jade as well. Everything was on a scale slightly too large, and as pretty-pretty as possible.

Walking through it, Hanae's red burned bright. The origins of the Emperor's concubine from the Ezo Islands were clear. The kitsune had intermarried with the Ainu, as well as teaching them their magic. The mixed race had absorbed later immigrants. Red hair was common. Hanae underlined it by her red gown, and red and silver slippers. Further, even now she walked with a straight back and firmer step than the highbred ladies of a Han court.

There were no windows. Hanae carried a lamp of oiled paper. That, at least, wasn't green. The shadows it cast around her were, though.

Though she looked confident, Hanae's eyes were even warier than normal. The corridors she walked now were mostly space fillers, so the Emperor could claim a larger palace than his predecessors. But some very odd folk had moved into the unused space.

One of the oddest emerged from a corridor to meet her. He deliberately approached her from behind and smiled toothily as she tensed. “Lady Cherry Blossom! I can trust you to be punctual.” His filthy robes had once been the white of mourning, and he smelled of dead meat and formaldehyde.

“Dr Nii,” she said without enthusiasm. “This is important for me. Cho is the best general His Imperial Majesty has. This will be better for Ezo. But I must know why you are helping me.”

She'd heard rumours Nii had been Ezo once and wondered if he had a grudge against his country. But he said, “Knowledge is its own justification, you know. Cho is quite a unique specimen.” He smiled at her with the nearest Nii got to warmth. “I'm always interested in the unusual.”

Hanae reminded herself never show fear to predators, even to scavengers like Nii.




(Turtle City [Kochi])

On one hand, Aya's parents had wanted to give their only daughter the spacious room fitting the heir to the Fujimiya estates. On the other, the Fujimiya town house was in the middle of Turtle City, and every square inch was worth its weight in jade.

The laws of physics had won, as usual. The room was plushly carpeted, with several Persian rugs woven together in the newest style. When the sun rose, the real glass window in the thick stone wall would have a good view of the quilt of roof top gardens, which gave Turtle City its name. But it was a small bedroom into which Aya had tried to cram the bare essentials.

The library of an apprentice landholder, including both volumes of Kinugawa's Legal Encyclopedia. The inevitable corner shrine to the fire goddess, the lamp's undying flame bright enough for eyes used to poor night lighting. A small coffee set, nominally to practice the coffee ceremony with, but actually to keep her awake while studying or sitting up with friends. Those clothes needed for an apprentice noblewoman, which simply couldn't be fitted into her maid's smaller room. The daringly Chinese prints of outdoor scenes, which hung on the walls, did little to help. No wonder street plays and ballads were full of rich folk who coveted their poor neighbours' living space.

Her elder brother was lean, but he was reasonably tall and had broad shoulders. He opened the thick, teak door, and stayed in the doorway.

At the last moment he hesitated, wondering if it would be kinder to go without saying goodbye. Aya must have been awake already. She sat up, and shook her head when she saw he was already wearing bamboo armour. She rolled out of her box bed and wrapped the nearest blanket around her. “Not already?”

“Admiral Cho's fleet sailed earlier than our spies had thought.” Ran wondered if that was what all China's elaborate secrecy about its fleet was about, or if they really thought Ezo hadn't heard of it at all.

They looked at each other. Ran was young enough to be self conscious when his sister hugged him, but he returned it. It even eased the cold tension in his chest, briefly. “Tell them...well, you'll know better what to say.” Their parents were still away in the Fujimiya country estate, readying the peasants in case the Chinese reached land.

She looked up at him. Her fingers curled into the flat, narrow weave of his armour and wouldn't let go. The Way of the People taught this life as a brief prelude to a real and better one. But he was the only brother she had.

Before she could say anything, Ran said, “I know you're not quite sixteen yet, but I got you your present in advance.” He carefully lifted her hands from their hold.

Aya said with dignity, “A piece of jewellery isn't going to make me feel better.”

He said sheepishly, “I didn't think of jewellery.” He took from his sleeve a small rod of silver, the intricate and deep carvings on it was enameled in several colours.

Aya said politely, “A spellbreak. How nice!” She already had several, flossier than this one.

“It looks like an ordinary spellbreak.” For a second, as he showed her this new toy, he forgot other things. “But if you press just right of the doubleback...” Six inches of sharp steel blade sprang out. Aya jumped.

Aya didn't seem to think it was going to be of much use, and Ran really hoped she was right.

Aya's view was the Ezo had always defeated invaders, so they would continue to defeat invaders, even if her beloved brother had to die heroically. Ran wasn't quite as sure. He'd not yet gone on his first foray, but he'd listened, like any boy, to the salted.

True, the Ezo had the advantage in sorcery, since serious magic always needs the backing of the land and the ancestors. That didn't mean the Chinese had no magic at all. And all the time they were trading for better weapons from Europe.

Aya reached out. “Right now?”

Ran looked through the window. The sky outside was definitely greying. He stepped away, and closed the door.

It was too early in the morning even for house servants to be up. Ran walked through empty rooms. Though the house was stone - in the last century there had been three serious tries at burning the Fujimiyas to death, plus a couple of feints – the rooms had been built long and narrow with rounded corners, in the style of the traditional Ezo loghouse, and even paneled with near unburnable teak. As he walked through them, the patterned, silver spellshields running the length of the coffered ceilings caught the moving light of his tin mesh lantern, magnified and broke the reflection into a chaotic looking river.

Shallow-stepped and zigzagging, the stairs, too, had been built for defense. They were stairwells. The left, for the side facing down the stairs, was close to shield, the right gave enough room to swing a blade. He hesitated before going down them.

The housekeeper was actually some distant relation of his mother. A poor relation, whose mother hadn't had enough money to buy her younger daughters a place in trade or a profession. She would like him to say goodbye. But her daughter slept in the same room. Aya and Sakura had more or less settled between them, that instead of marrying some rich girl, Ran was going to marry Sakura and stay with them forever. He didn't want another goodbye.

He told himself both of them would want to sleep as late as possible.

The narrow entry hall, built of heavy logs, held an armed guard, of course. Ran had expected him to be half asleep in the dark hall, and wouldn't have blamed him. No honorable landholder would assassinate his rivals when they were needed to fight a foreign enemy. But he'd lit a lantern and was talking to a mage.

The mage had fire coloured hair, bound back with a wreath of yellow aconite, and wore a jacket of green snake skins. The sheath on his right hip held a good sword, and the one on his left hip held a human thigh bone, carved into a flute to summon and master the winds.

A white wolf lay beside him.

Somehow suddenly looking ten times more military, the guard stood alertly at the door, out of earshot of soft conversation.

Schuldig should have been helping Ran's parents at the estate, and there were many bad reasons he wasn't. Still, there was also one good one, and the wolf was here. He went down on one knee before the wolf and stretched out his hand. “Jei?”

The wolf sniffed his fingers, but only a wolf looked back. Ran backed off before the wolf would read his stare as aggression.

Jei had changed his form far younger than he should, and more deeply. The village had sent him to several renowned healers and shrines. All those unpleasant cures had done was give him a deep hatred of priests.

There was still hope he would recover, but Schuldig shook his head. “No. I thought Oracle could use another sorcerer. They say this is going to be a hard fight.” He hesitated. “I happened to be passing.” If it occurred to Ran the Fujimiya house was nowhere near the Street of Sorcery, and by Jei's huff it seemed to have occurred even to the wolf, he took it for granted Schuldig was on business of his own. Though they'd known each other all their lives, on and off, Ran hadn't much idea of what that business would be.

Schuldig's uncle had worked the weather for the main Fujimiya estate, and Schuldig had grown up in the Fujimiya castle with the younger Ran. Then he'd gone to a shrine to turn off all the little whispering voices, that too often turned out to be real, and learned to use his power to control magic. He'd come back with a sharp sense of mage superiority. Ran had been told young mages generally went through this stage, until they learned better, but he and Schuldig weren't as close as they'd been before.

Schuldig didn't tell him more, but shrugged indifferently. “I thought I'd drop off a protective charm.” He held out gold earrings.

Ran looked at the charm. It was a simple one, often used to protect children; though the charm wasn't usually gold. Ezo, that country of mages, valued silver for its power to break magic. But even more valuable was gold, which can store and amplify magic. The blood taken in piercing the earlobes would be used to start the spell. And if it was Schuldig's, it would be strong. He shook his head. Politely, “Not in the field.” The fleet sorcerers might need his death for their magic. Besides, private sorcery might throw theirs awry.

Schuldig's hard mouth crooked a moment. “For Aya, then.” To the guard, “You'll see Lady Aya gets them this morning? And could I leave Jei here?” Schuldig would be working with a lot of priests. Ran looked at him. Schuldig valued Jei. To bring him into a city which might soon be invaded, to guard Aya, said much. He nodded. He never knew what to say.

Schuldig asked hopefully, “The henyard?” When Ran shook his head the wolf whined. To the guard again, “And that she gets the wolf, too.” The guard looked at Jei rather unhappily. The Ezo didn't have massive folklore of malevolent wolves, but Jei wasn't a lapdog. Jei grinned.

While the guard opened the door for them, Schuldig stood looking at Ran.

Ran wondered if Schuldig was going to get soppy on him. He should have known better. The wind sorcerer didn't look soft at all. “If you get yourself killed, I'll have your hide.”

Ran believed him.

As the outer door was closed behind them, Ran stepped down onto the cobblestone pavement. He braced his shoulders against new weight. The foundations of that big, old house had been magicked to deflect earthquake. As a side effect the pull of gravity was slightly less inside the house.

When they were out in the street, Ran looked up its whitewashed stone walls to the small patches of sky. The grey had the faint mist which meant a hard, bright blue later. They were in a hurry, but they were careful not to try shortcuts; they took the exact route they knew. Like many Ezo towns, Turtle City had decided town planning, like monarchy and Buddhism, was too Chinese. The savviest native could get lost if they took the wrong winding alley.

Hearing a faint roar like the sea, Schuldig asked, “Are we at the harbour already?”

Ran said flatly, “That isn't the sea.” They were brave men, but they didn't feel any shame when they started to run.




Sha Gojyo stood in his dirty little hovel of a hotel room and listened to the mob.

It cried out threats against Chinese. In fact, it was killing anyone it met. But if just one of its lunatics remembered the vagrant Chinaman in that undefended hotel...Gojyo packed faster.

He wouldn't have bothered to pack if he'd had his choice. The little junk he'd accumulated wasn't worth losing his life for, and would probably be stolen before too long. He was waiting for someone.

An inconsiderate, sullen brat! It was by no means the first time Gojyo had cursed himself for taking in the starving boy. Or possibly cub would be more appropriate.

The kid seemed to have been adopted young by one of Ezo's magic wielding, solitary mountain shamans. Raised half feral, to judge from the results. He hadn't even seemed to have a proper name, for human society. He'd mentioned having been given a name to use in the spirit worlds, but those were always a secret. Gojyo had called him Sanzo, in sarcasm, using a West Chinese title for a High Holy. It seemed less sarcastic now. Besides having been made full shaman at some absurdly young age, Sanzo was developing into a mage formidable even by Ezo standards.

His foster father had been killed by a pack of some slightly different shamans, butchered for ingredients for dark magic. Sanzo had been searching for the killers when he and Gojyo met. Gojyo had found him picking through a rubbish heap for food.

Sanzo didn't know their names, or what cult they belonged to. And then, he'd hardly known there was any world beyond his own little mountain. He was still looking. Gojyo was ready to bet a large sum against the murderers leading long lives.

Ezo wasn't hospitable to a child without kin. The only offers to take the kid off his hands were ones he could never have accepted. Though when Sanzo was being his worst he almost wished he had. It would have served the brothel keepers right. Gojyo had really disliked the way some people assumed he was dragging a beautiful child around for their reason. (Or Sanzo was dragging him around, it might have looked to the dispassionate observer.) It had lost Gojyo a lot of good one night stands.

Gojyo ignored how glad he'd been to have someone permanent in his life.

The beautiful child was growing into a gorgeous teenager. Gojyo expected him to take a better offer than Gojyo's hand to mouth vagrancy. And to leave without a backward glance.

Gojyo looked around the hotel room. No fire shrine in this room. The only light which didn't leak through the walls, and considering how time had warped them that was a large amount, came from the small, bad-smelling tapers he'd bought at a street stall. The cheap, clapboard walls had been whitewashed about ten years ago. A few yellow scraps still hung on the wall.

But Sanzo mustn't leave now. Not with the Turtle City mob baying for the blood of any stranger.

“That's it,” he said, apparently to the slime-greened washbasin. Some time it had been kicked off the waterpipe and propped against the north wall. “I'm leaving.”

He picked up Sanzo's bag and put it down again. Sanzo would be angry whether he touched it or left it, but there was some mountain shaman stuff in there he didn't want to mess with. Gojyo sat down on the edge of the bed. He'd been in Ezo long enough to ask himself what sort of bed didn't even have sideboards. With the damp dripping through the ceiling, a roofed bed would have been very useful. “Right now,” he assured the basin.

He thought of Sanzo coming back to find himself deserted. His imagination insisted on putting an angry mob at his heels. He was pretty sure any mob would be angered by Sanzo. The kid despised stupidity, and didn't scruple to show it. The ferret-like hotel manager was just the type to turn a guest over to the mob.

The room didn't have a window. Gojyo had found it easy enough to pull a few nails out of the soft wood so two of the planks swung apart. He meant to use it for exit, and it had a view of the back alley. Its constant draft of cold air was at least fresher than the hotel room. He walked over the sticky floor to peer for any signs of Sanzo.

Someone was peering back.

Gojyo jumped backward. Even in his surprise, he was checking the glimpsed face against the long list of people who had a grudge against him. Those big golden eyes were new to him.

Sanzo's velvety voice spoke from the other side of the stranger. “We haven't all day, idiot. Haul him in so we can get out of sight.”

The stranger said indignantly, “I don't need his help!” He'd scrambled through the gap by the time he'd finished speaking.

Gojyo stared at him speechlessly. At first sight, he thought he was a little younger than Sanzo, and then something made Gojyo decide that might be wrong. He was certainly smaller, neatly strong, with a shock of brown hair and those golden eyes. He also had wore a band around his head, with the lustre of real gold. Even if it was thin gilding, and it didn't look like it, it was a ridiculously expensive hairpiece. He wore a street robe of poor quality linen, the poor man's usual brick red of grassroot dye, and his boots were the bark ones of a peasant. Nothing fitted well. Gojyo was sure it all stolen.

With Gojyo, speechlessness never lasted long. He asked, “Who in all hells are you?”

“Who in all hells are you?”

Their attention was drawn by Sanzo pulling himself through the gap in the wall. He was fit, but it was a tighter squeeze for him, and both of them rushed to help, Gojyo taking his left arm, the stranger his right. Once he was through, neither let go.

He shook them off, with a flash of his eyes. Even in the dim light, they still looked violet, as his hair still had gold.

Gojyo urged, “We've got to get out right now!”

Sanzo growled, “Idiot! With that mob, we stay indoors.”

“But the manager - ”

“I'll speak to the manager.” Sanzo crossed over to his bag. Seeing it had been moved he gave Gojyo a deadly glare. Then he took out his rainbow robe, the bright feathers seeming to burn in the dull and dirty room. He slid into it without the quickening spells, but the feathers still glittered brighter, and the whole robe seemed to quiver like one great wing. He also picked up his fan, made from raven feathers. Then he turned to Gojyo. “This is Goku. Don't take the binding from his head, he's a demon.” To Goku, “This is Gojyo. Don't eat him.”

Goku whined, “But I'm hungry.”

“You've eaten enough already.” Sanzo stalked out, the swish of his robe sounding oddly like voices whispering.

Gojyo looked at Goku, and Goku looked back, equally critical. Gojyo had kept an ear on the roar of the mob, but now it seemed to ebb. He also kept an ear open for what Sanzo was doing downstairs. He couldn't figure out whether the silence was good or not. “A demon, eh? What does Sanzo want with a demon? And which hell are you from?”

“An old one, over east a way. You won't have heard of it. Our god Ascended a long time ago. I don't know if Sanzo really wants a demon. He rescued me from a bad place. They'd put me to sleep, but I think I remember a room all dark. It was cold. And I was so hungry.”

“What did they want with a demon?”

Goku shrugged. Then his head turned to the door. His eyes narrowed, and his nostrils flared. For a moment he looked dangerous.

Sanzo walked in carrying a platter of food. “They were draining his power.”

He handed the food to Goku, who said blissfully, “Ooh, fishbuns! My favourite!”

Sanzo looked at him with something, which in anyone else, could have been taken for a smile. “I thought griddle chips was your favourite?” He took off and folded away his robe. Gojyo thought he heard it sigh in protest.

Through a packed mouthful of fishbun, “My favourite's whatever I'm eating.”

Gojyo asked, “Who're they?”

No, Sanzo definitely wasn't smiling. “The Takatoris.”

Gojyo wasn't surprised to hear it. The Takatoris might pretend to respectability, but from street gossip they were just the sort to abuse their demons.

Having finished his fishbuns at a speed which should have been physically impossible, Goku said, “I love you, Sanzo! Can I sleep with you?”

Gojyo sputtered. He was the more annoyed because Sanzo didn't show the instant rage he usually did to such a question. One of the few social rules Sanzo's mentor had taught him was about molestation. It had taken Gojyo weeks to get Sanzo to accept Gojyo wasn't interested in kids. “You little - ”

Sanzo snapped, “Shut up, the pair of you! I'd hit you with the fan, except your heads would damage it. Gojyo, you know demons aren't sexual beings. They're conceived by other ways. The brat just needs warmth. Goku, you should know enough about humans not to talk like that.”

Gojyo glared at Goku. “You can sleep on the floor.”

Sanzo picked up his bag. “Nobody's sleeping here. We're leaving.”

Both of them looked at Sanzo. It was Gojyo who said, “But the mob's gone.”

“And what happens when they start coming back? They've got to get home.”

“I thought you'd dealt with the manager.”

“It'll last two minutes. At least he thinks we're settled for the night.”

Goku skimmed between the planks with ease and accepted the two bags. Gojyo hadn't quite got used to his full adult size, and didn't fit as well through the planks as he thought he would. In the end Goku pulled, and Sanzo pushed, hard. One plank cracked, and Gojyo fell through on top of Goku.

They rolled apart. While Sanzo swung out smoothly, they glared at each other.

“Bum!”

“Imp!”

“Shut up!” snapped Sanzo. Without bothering with his bag, he stalked off. They picked up a bag each and followed him.



(Net of Coral [East China Sea])

Ran could tell at sight which of the guard were new to Turtle City. They were the ones confident the tall, thick double walls they were patrolling would keep out the mob. Those who'd lived longer in the city were tense and ready for anything.

Their heavy mail dark against the dark wall, the guards were patrolling not in twos but fours. As Schuldig and Ran stepped up onto the raised path around the walls, the nearest four hurried over to them. Anxiety made their gestures more threatening than they meant. One said, “Which way is the mob going?”

Schuldig said, “We weren't near enough - ” He looked over the shoulders of the guards and for a moment looked as wolfish as Jei. Ran hardly needed to follow his gaze. Kikyou would be on duty this watch.

Schuldig and Kikyou hated each other. True, Kikyou hated everyone, except apparently a few rich and powerful people he could profit from, though Ran suspected he hated them, too. Schuldig, however, he distinguished as particularly inconvenient. Schuldig, too, considered a day in which he'd tricked or harmed Kikyou a day to be treasured. Ran didn't like what Kikyou made Schuldig.

Tall, finely made, looking especially handsome in the dark mail of the harbour guard, Kikyou sauntered up, with his charming smile and cold, blue-grey eyes.

Ran said, “We don't have time for this.” He put his hand on Schuldig's shoulder.

Schuldig nodded, cupped his hands under Ran's foot, and tossed him to the top of the high wall. The boundary spell burned cold on his skin for a second, then recognised him as allowed. Ran lay face down along the top, reached down just in time to catch Schuldig's hand as he jumped up, and swung him up. Schuldig being Schuldig, he didn't just sit on the wall, but vaulted spectacularly right over it to the ground. Ran slipped after, almost as quickly.

Even before Kikyou could get through the gate, they'd disappeared into the crowd. They went in opposite directions.

Ran told himself he hadn't been looking forward to another farewell, and that he didn't know why he felt a bit let down. There were questions he wanted to ask Schuldig. But they could wait until after the fight, and he didn't expect to survive the fight. They would just burden someone who was, anyway, a friend.

At one end of the quay, a high pier had been built from which to survey and direct harbour defense and weather. On it now were several flags. There were various devices but all had the black background of magic users. Few of the people there were armoured. In the centre of their assembly was Crawford, his long white robe glittering from its little disc-shaped mirrors. Most people would have considered the ceremonial dress of an Oracle a bit overpowering for everyday wear, Crawford liked people to know who they were dealing with. He was attended by three elderly lackeys, each a mage of the first rank.

The other end had far more fighters and flags, all with the white background of magic-less warfare. If Ran hadn't already known where the Tsukiyono squadron was moored, he might never have found it.

Omi Tsukiyono was directly beneath the freesia flag. He was calmer than most of the sailors there. Though he was younger than Ran, he'd already had his salting voyage, and done well enough, in exceptionally bloody circumstances, so no one had seriously complained when he was put in charge of the clan's squadron. The Fujimiyas were landholders, but the Tsukiyonos were fleetmasters. Ever since the Mongols had tried to invade, that had meant more.

At Omi's right shoulder stood Ken Hidaka. The Hidakas had the traditional duty of right hand guard to the Tsukiyonos, while the Fujimiyas guarded the left. Both Ran and Ken's cousins had died for those duties on Omi's voyage.

Omi was talking to Kudoh, the head of Tsukiyono covert ops. While most of his work was gathering information, Kudoh had done sabotage and assassination in his time, and done them well. He was telling Omi, “We can have them in the water within ten minutes. As for afterward...” He shrugged with lazy elegance, and touched the silk garotte wrapped around his wrist.

Omi said mildly, “I tested them myself.” Yohji's parting nod was brief. No Chinese-style bowing in Ezo, but Kudoh was casual even for a Ezo. Unfazed, Omi turned to Ran. “Good morning, friend Ran.”

Ran offered a cupped palm in the Ezo-style salute. “Good morning, sir.” He gave a rather wary nod to Ken. On their last meeting, Ken had said something about inland families. By Turtle City standards it could have been a crack about bumpkins. Ken gave him a dazzling, uncomplicated smile. Even Ran had to realise Ken was indeed as straightforward as he looked, and let it go.

Omi said, “You've both learned to get about on a boat, and help, but today leave that to the crew. As you can see, we've got her rigged up in a new way.” He nodded at his flag ship. Ken would have seen and understood the difference before Ran, but now even Ran could see her rigging was faintly off, and even the shape of her hull. She looked slightly flattened. “It should outsail anything the Chinese fleet has, but the crew has been trained to it.”

Ken whistled appreciatively. Omi looked modest.

Ran found he and Ken were a real help in getting the smaller Omi through the crowd. Besides the rush of the early sailing, there were people who'd stopped to admire the new ship. As he followed Omi on board, Ran found the ship surprisingly stable. Perhaps those light looking guns were heavier than they seemed.

The crew had the cheerful air of people who were on a winner and knew it. Even the two fire mages didn't look as unhappy at getting wet as they normally did. Still, both mages and seamen would have been so relieved if the mages hadn't been essential, one to burn the enemy ships, and one to defend against the enemy's burning.

On the forecastle Omi gave the traditional speech. He spoke quietly, which made the crew strain to listen. “Our scryers have seen the Chinese fleet has swung south, and will be cutting across the current to further cut down the time we have to prepare. They don't realise the fleets of Ezo are always ready. Admiral Cho won't have allowed for how long it will take him to sail across the winds and currents. He did well enough as a land general, but he doesn't know ships, and we know how good the Chinese are at listening to their subordinates, don't we?

“Our fleet will be using the current to get east of them, and then the wind mages have given us a strong easterly,” he touched something at his throat, “so we get them before they expect it.

“Our men and our magic beat them on their own ground. They're not going to do better in Ezo waters.”

To get to the battle, the wind mages had piped up a brief burst of westerly. The sailors scattered to work involving ropes and sails. Even a novice like Ran could feel the smooth fast acceleration of the ship.

Just behind the forecastle, the fire mages bent over work which seemed to involve coffee. Omi sat on the forecastle and looked benevolent and confident. Ran could hardly see the shadow of worry in his bright blue, smiling eyes.

Oracle had said Tsukiyono squadron should take the starboard wing. If the ships behaved as expected, that meant, as the Ezo fleet wheeled south, they would be the first to sight and engage the enemy. The other squadrons would be close behind, but maybe not close enough.

Omi had spoken of it as an honour. It showed the Tsukiyono squadron was the best. But then all the other commanders knew their own squadron the best, too. Ran couldn't help remembering Oracle was hand in glove with Reiji Takatori. The Tsukiyono clan was a dangerous rival to the Takatori, especially with his son's brains. Reiji's elder sons had been born into clans client to the Takatori, but he would be glad to rid himself of the youngest.

The lookout at the prow brought his arm around in a great half circle and pointed his arm, full length. Omi took the bird bone whistle from around his neck and blew. The strong wind which had been stored inside it came out with a speed which caught even experienced Ezo sailors unaware. All the ships of the Tsukiyono squadron bucked, and then keeled over in a race for their enemy.

Omi looked around for his bow, and Ran handed it to him, a moment slower than he should have been. Ken was already holding his quiver convenient. They would use their own weapons when the fighting grew close quarters, but the archers' opening volley might be vital.

In the race, Omi's new ship outpaced the rest. Ran spotted the enemy ships quickly. A small crowd of sea gulls flew above them. They wouldn't all be sea gulls, of course. The first thing he noticed was the bare masts of the enemy ships. Then he saw the great paddles beating at their sides. Despite their lack of sails, they were making good speed. Size is hard to judge at sea, but he was pretty sure they were considerably bigger than any Ezo ship.

Omi told Ran, “Have the signaller break out the flag for rocks ahead.” That took Ran only a moment, but on the way back he met Ken going with further orders for the signaller.

Ran just caught Omi's question to the fire mages. “Can you reverse your spells, and kill all fire in that fleet?”

The elder mage said, “It'll take time.”

“I'll buy you time.” Omi returned to his chair, carefully put his bow and quiver out of sight, and told the helmsman, “We're hailing her, not boarding.” The helmsman pushed away his swordhilt a little, then trimmed the tiller.

Each warship flew the white dragon of East China, but there was no mistaking the admiral's flag, with the boar emblem.

The Ezo ship ducked under the Chinese ranged shots, just skirting the turbulence from the side paddles. There were heavy guns on the centre battery. The armed troops of this one ship, crowding up on deck, eager to meet with their long hated enemy, outnumbered Tsukiyono's squadron. Ran thought the Ezo lightness and maneuverability might be very useful. Possibly, Omi's rapt concentration was figuring out a plan to use it.

Or possibly, knowing Omi, he was just smitten with this unexpected piece of technology.

The Tsukiyono flagship wheeled up to right under the prow of the admiral's ship. Omi opened his mouth. Then closed it. The steam ships were making a racket. He turned to Ken and asked, “Will you hail them, please?”

Ken shouted at the top of his voice, “Tea kettle ahoy!”

Omi covered his eyes with his hand. “Friend Ken!”

There was enough of a wait for Ran to wonder if he should bring Omi's bow out. There were growls, and threats, until words spoken softly stifled them. At last a smooth, rich tenor answered in strongly accented Ezo, “The Imperial Navy returns the greeting of the Tsukiyono clan.”

To be heard, Omi made his voice higher and shriller. It made him sound even younger. Calling up to the crowd staring down at the Ezo sloop, “May I speak to Admiral Cho personally?”

Ran had found the man talking, among a very varied lot of faces. For one thing, he was the only one who didn't look bitterly hostile. He had a faint, meaningless smile on his face, and no other expression at all. His drab green clothes were distinguished by a white sash of rank over his shoulder. Ran wasn't surprised when he said, “You are speaking to him.”

Ran's eyes were fixed on the East Chinese, watching for a hand to go to a weapon. But he could imagine Omi's bright smile as the young admiral said, “You have invaded Ezo territory, and dragged your unfortunate men along into waters they don't know, depending on foreign ships and guns they can't rely on. I think I can offer you the best way out of this mess.”

Cho took out a pair of spectacles, looked at Omi through them, shook his head, and put them away again. “And what is this way?”

“Single combat!” said Omi cheerfully. Ran wanted to take up Omi's bow and shoot a few of the grins off those faces. “If I win, you get to take your men back to China alive.” Cho managed to keep his face straight, but Omi had to raise his voice to be heard above the Chinese laughs and jeers. “If you win, the Tsukiyono squadron will withdraw from opposing your passage to Turtle City.”

“Only the Tsukiyono squadron?”

“You can send champions against the other squadrons.”

Cho didn't raise his voice, but no one had any trouble hearing him. “Even if I wanted to take such an unfair gamble, I can't. I have been charged by His Imperial Majesty Himself to dissuade unlawful Ezo aggression, and I believe an important part of this is by destroying as many Ezo ships as possible. Not just retiring them temporarily.”

“Unlawful?” asked Omi. Ignoring what the Ezo thought of any China's laws, he pointed out, “But this has been going on for centuries.”

Cho raised his eyebrow. “And now we're going to stop it.”

Like Omi's speech, Cho's had been aimed at the Chinese sailors. And Cho had certainly won that battle. There was a burst of cheering from his sailors.

For a second, Ran thought those sailors were beginning to attack the Ezo bare handed, and he whipped Omi's bow into his hand. Then the larger ship seemed to go into reverse, and realised the Chinese were flailing for balance. The Ezo ship sped ahead and away from the other.

The helmsman was already wheeling her back when Omi told him, “We're boarding now.” He had the bow up and was drawing the string even while he spoke.

Cho would be just now finding out his coal fired engines had died, and his gunpowder as well, when the Ezo sloop expertly heeled, through a cloudburst of foam, right under the Chinese prow, so close it must have been only inches from tearing the sail. The sloop was borne up by the bigger ship's bow wave. While the Chinese were still on the other side, the Ezo were boarding before the ships had touched. With the briefest glimpse, Ran saw the other Tsukiyono ships grappled with the rest of the Chinese fleet.

Ran was surprised by how fast everything was happening, but he managed to keep up, still guarding Omi's left shoulder while he slung the bow over his own. Enemies were coming at him from all directions. The Chinese were handicapped by not having guns, but there were swordsmen among them, and the rest were swinging improvised cudgels.

A couple even tried throwing a net over the foremost Ezo, which meant Omi. Ran and Ken exchanged a quick glance, caught it on their sword points, and threw it back.

Omi led the way down into the ship. A deep, dark ladder, rank with machine smells, took them down to suffocatingly enclosed living quarters, filled with enemies attacking, but inadequately armed. There was no talk of surrender on either side. Ran told himself it was the close air which made him feel nauseous. Then he lunged in front of Omi to beat away a swung spike, and took point, and there was no more time to feel anything at all.

At length, Omi and his bodyguards found themselves facing Cho. Unlike any of his officers, he was winning his fights, and had backed several Ezo to the very prow. They were almost ready to swim for it, though more than sharks waited them in the sea.

For Cho was no longer looking human. Rather than a normal shapeshifting, he seemed to have melted into something mixed of several beasts, and still near human. He had long teeth and claws. He also had scales, and long tentacles whipping from his bare arms to dispatch the men facing him with superhuman speed. They were green, and moved so fast they seemed to surround Cho with a net.

Omi shouted with anger. The Cho-beast looked from the last dead sailor to them with eyes of a bright but mineral gold. Ken growled. Omi said, “Steady, man.” A tiger is a good ally in a fight, but a man well armed is better.

Ran stepped forward and to one side, and was pleased to see Ken mirror his approach from the beast's other side. Omi had known the fighting abilities of the dead sailors better, and said, “Friends, hold a minute.” He spoke to the changed Cho. Ran didn't know if it understood him. “You do realise the offer of single combat is withdrawn?”

Ran held out the bow, and Omi waved it away, the gesture becoming a reach for his sword. For a second Ran was puzzled, until he saw Omi's hand flash to his loaded sleeve, and pull out a glittering silver dart.

Which flew so fast into Cho's left eye even the beast had no time to dodge.

Cho cried out, more with rage than pain, and made to charge. Then the pain of having silver in his eye overwhelmed him. Before Ran knew what he was doing, he'd stepped up to his side, sword swinging up.

And then everything stopped.

No. It took only a second for Ran to realise he was the one stopped. He was held as still as a statue. Ken started a growl, which cut off abruptly.

Ran wasn't only immobile like a statue, but felt a dead heaviness creeping through him, from the skin inwards.

This was an earth mage, one of the rarer and more powerful. But they weren't in China. A Chinese mage, even an earth mage, shouldn't be able to...

Cho's crouch straightened. Even before his flesh began to flow like melting wax, and his eyes cooled to green, he somehow looked more human. He put his hand over his eye in a human gesture. He said to someone behind Ran, “Took you long enough.” Though his jaws had changed back to human, he spoke with difficulty through the pain. Quickly and efficiently, he began to bandage his eye.

The voice answering him sounded about Omi's age. “I beg your pardon, Admiral. There were many pirates, and they moved fast.”

“Well, Naoe, I'm very glad to see you.”

A Ezo name! It explained why the mage was so strong. It also kindled rage within Ran. With all his strength, he tried to move one finger, and couldn't. He could move his eyeballs, very slowly. But all he saw was a human Cho, fussily rearranging the white sash to conceal as much of the tears in his clothing as possible, a small section of deck, with bits of bodies around. The sea wind stung his open eyes till they teared. He managed, just, to blink. It took time. While he was doing it, he concentrated on listening. All he heard was the constant roar of the engines, the smithy noises of sword fighting, and voices. There seemed to be far fewer speaking either language than there had been when the fight began.

Ken managed to mumble, “Trait'r.”

The young voice said coldly, “Ezo betrayed us first.” The cold and weight went on growing into Ran's body.

Cho said, “Maa, maa. We better keep them alive. A bit of inside information might always come in handy.”

Ran hadn't realised he hadn't been breathing until his lungs could work.

As he called to his men, Cho's voice took on a sharper edge. “Gentlemen of the guns, don't worry about the freesia ships. Rake that new lot with silver before they come in close enough for that fire quenching trick.” As the guns began baying, “Mage Naoe, will you do me the kindness of sinking the Tsukiyono ships, please?” Maybe Omi's eyes showed something, for he said gently, “I'm very sorry, Tsukiyono. But sinking as many Ezo ships as possible is my order. Besides, if those ones with the falcon banner had come to your support, we might have found things quite unpleasant.”

Ran was still too paralysed to do more than breathe and blink, so he didn't know if it was him or Ken growling.

From what he could make out, the other Ezo ships stayed out of range of the Chinese guns, which was certainly out of range of their own.

Some of the Chinese crew had stacked the paralysed prisoners out of the way like so much firewood. Ran couldn't feel when he was dropped, or kicked afterward. Cho seemed quite upset at how they'd been treated, and had them put into a cabin. There were quite a few empty ones.

Naoe was walking beside Cho, and beside Naoe, on the other side, a girl much his or Omi's age, with bluegrey hair and bluegrey eyes. Cho asked Naoe wistfully, “I don't suppose you can make them lighter?”

The girl gave a shrill giggle. Even with everything else, its offkey note worried Ran. “Chop parts off them.” There was enthusiastic agreement from the crewmen carrying them.

As they jostled to a stop outside the chosen cabin, a Chinese with a fresh slash down his face made to bang Ran's head against the wall. Cho stopped him. “We're the stronger party. A quick, just settlement depends more on us. If we do our duty, this man's children will be loyal subjects of the Emperor.”

He followed them into the cabin, explaining, mostly to Omi, “Don't feel bad about losing. Ezo will be stopped. Yes, you've been pirating forever. But it's so much worse lately. Your population has grown from the New World crops. At the same time everyone else is more dependent on trade. If China can't stop you, other nations will.”

He picked up a blanket and covered Omi, almost looking like a father tucking in his child. There was still blood trickling from behind his eye's bandage. “You'll find our terms quite reasonable. The taxes will go to pay for a police force, which will finally make Ezo a peaceful country. You'll learn to write, I'm sure you can. The Emperor will give a blanket amnesty to all except a few war criminals.”

Naoe cleared his throat.

Cho smiled at him. “And Landholder Hibino, of course. His execution is not negotiable.”

The admiral was the last to leave the prisoners. Even seeing them so helpless, his one remaining eye checked out the cabin's security. He addressed them in general, “It's about time Ezo became civilised.” Ran heard the hatch close. Then nothing but the unrelenting growl of the ship engines.

There wasn't much time to raise a storm, but he'd expected winds to rise, at least. The ship was sailing as smooth as ever when he heard land noises; more sea gulls, the breaking of waves.

He rather thought he heard the engines of the other Chinese ships. They could have been co-ordinating the first run to bombard Turtle City.

But the noise could have been the blood in his ears as he struggled to move. He could feel the curse strengthening itself from his struggle, but he continued fighting.

He was hurled from the bunk. For a second, he thought he'd broken his curse. Then his brain registered what he'd heard. An explosion below his level, from the ship's hull. The ship was already listing. He breathed as deeply as he could, and went on struggling.

As the ship lurched steeper onto one side, he heard a great wrenching groan from the deck, of timbers parting, and the crash of something going through the rails, accompanied by the cries of falling men. The ship seemed to have lost its deck gun.

Somewhere a beast howled, and a few men screamed in response. Someone seemed to have been panicked into the Change, and was attacking his colleagues..

Only a few moments later Ran heard hurried footsteps outside the door.

Cho opened the door, and surveyed the cabin. He wasn't quite as impassive as he might have imagined. There was a yellow gleam in his green eye, and his smile seemed to have slipped a bit. “You wouldn't know anything about - ?” His question was interrupted by two more explosions, simultaneously going off to either side of the ship they were on. He didn't finish it. His hand clenched on the edge of the door, with talons.

Omi managed a faint croaking noise.

“I do beg your pardon. Naoe!” The young Ezo followed him in. “Will you please remove your curse. And if they try anything, snap their necks.”

While that fierce green eye never wavered from him, Omi shook off numbness, then massaged his hands and feet. It took some time, but it gave Ran and Ken time to get ready if they were going to try anything. Outside voices cried in Chinese, and in Ezo. Then he said, “You should have taken the first offer.”

Cho snapped, “What is it?”

“Mines,” said Omi.

“Technology?” The Admiral looked indignant. “But you're not meant to have modern technology!”

Possibly to divert that gaze from Omi, Ken said, “All the technology we can steal.”

Naoe waited for the order. Ran flattened his hand on the carpet for leverage, and braced himself to attack.

Cho shook his head at both him and Ken, and said, “It seems that we still have to discuss surrender terms.”

Omi said, “I can't accept your surrender.”

Cho listened to the sounds of his crew losing, and said, “I think I can force you to.” His eyes considered Ken and Ran, looking where to strike.

Omi went white. “I can't keep Chinese prisoners safe. The mob can get them anywhere in Turtle City, and probably will.”

Cho suggested, “Outside the city, then.”

“There are plenty of castles in Ezo, but even if the holders let us in, there aren't any determined peasants can't get into. And castles are beside peasant villages.”

Ran cleared his throat.

Omi looked at him, just for a moment not understanding. Then he smiled. “Of course. Houtou
Castle!”