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An Enchanted Sword
An Enchanted Sword
An Enchanted Sword
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An Enchanted Sword

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Purpose.

It is the one thing Takeo has always wanted, and it is within reach. He means to piece together not only a world left fractured by Jabbar’s wrath, but also a heart torn asunder by Emily’s death. Under the service of a new shogun, Takeo sets out for the desert sands of Savara on a task worthy of his skill—perhaps too worthy.

To help him on his quest, he has the benefit of something he never once had: friends. At his side stand a knight with a heart of gold, a viking with no fear, and an ogre with unbound strength. Unfortunately, it is not enough.

Takeo aims to accomplish the impossible, to achieve something many have tried, but all have failed. To succeed, Takeo must be willing to make any sacrifice, climb any mountain, and cut any deal. The kind only a jinni can make.

But at what cost?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherTravis Bughi
Release dateMar 4, 2018
ISBN9781370987702
An Enchanted Sword
Author

Travis Bughi

I started reading young and have never stopped. My mother was determined to make me literate quickly, and she would read to me often. My grandmother, though, takes credit for my addiction to reading. She was a librarian and introduced me to the joy that is reading. It is no coincidence my first World of Myth novel is dedicated to her.My journey from avid reader to hobby writer took its first turn in High School after I read Dune by Frank Herbert. It was a challenge for me at the age of 14, but I was so impressed with it that I began to imagine my own stories. What I wish to accomplish is to give my readers the experience that I want: to be transported to another world and become so absorbed that I lose track of everything around me.Thanks for stopping by.

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    An Enchanted Sword - Travis Bughi

    Prologue

    Under the eye of the harsh Savara sun, next to a mountainside surrounded by sand dunes, Hyun Jee waited patiently as his samurai cleared the tunnel. Arms crossed, he drummed his right-hand fingers against the opposite arm, while his samurai removed one stone at a time and passed each along the line until the weight could be tossed away into Savara’s hungry sands. The samurai were sweating profusely in the heat and would need water and rest soon, but Hyun’s impatience wouldn’t allow such deviation. They were so close, so very close, for within this mountain lay an ancient construct of Old Savara. Within Hyun’s grasp lay the key to conquering all his lady’s problems. Only a few more stones stood between him and power—true power—and with that knowledge, Hyun began to wonder whom he would kill first.

    He strongly considered the man beside him, Aiguo Mein.

    Aiguo had once been a personal guard to the Lord Ichiro Katsu’s wife, Heliena, until both she and her husband had been killed. Aiguo had gone on to serve under the rakshasa that had tried and failed to raze Lucifan. Those events alone would have earned Aiguo a death sentence to some, but he’d somehow avoided being captured in the battle of Lucifan, and he had been amongst the few survivors to claw their way back to Savara. Hyun didn’t hate Aiguo for that, though. Hyun couldn’t care less about Savara or to whom Aiguo swore allegiance. Hyun wanted to kill Aiguo because, quite frankly, Aiguo was a coward.

    As far as Hyun was concerned, once a samurai’s lord was defeated and killed, that soldier should take his or her own life as a show of honor. The fact that Aiguo had gone on living after Ichiro had died made the man seem more like a parasite that refused to perish alongside its host. In Hyun’s eyes, Aiguo was an abomination for trying desperately to find a way back home to Juatwa when truly he belonged in the ground. Hyun believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that Aiguo deserved death.

    It was therefore very fortunate for Aiguo that he’d thus far proven so useful. For example, Aiguo had been the one to lead them to this exact spot.

    Jabbar discovered this power as he was conquering Savara, Aiguo explained casually, lowering his face covering to speak clearly. A relic of the ancient times, hardly any left. He considered using it but then decided it’d be too difficult to transport overseas. It’s about the size of an oni, you see, but it’s made entirely out of solid clay. Each limb is as thick as you and me combined.

    Hm, so it is heavy, then, Hyun responded, pretending to be fully vested in watching his samurai work. I’m assuming with weight like that, it is strong, too?

    We never tested it. According to legend, it is strong enough to pound rocks into dust.

    Being exceptionally tall, Hyun had to glance down when he looked at Aiguo. Hyun towered over many, only finding people of equal or greater height amongst the vikings. Unlike them, however, Hyun was thin and lanky and had gaunt cheeks, which made him appear older than he was. Hyun preferred that, and he grew a thin mustache to age his features further. He envied his elders and did his best to act and appear as they did. It pleased him greatly that he appeared a good decade older than he really was.

    Is that why Jabbar covered it back up? Hyun asked. Was it too heavy to move? I find it strange that a rakshasa would leave this power out here where it could be discovered and claimed by another. He struck me as a smarter creature than that.

    We could have moved it, Aiguo said and shrugged, but it seemed a moot point. Jabbar and I, and those with us, were the only ones who knew its location, and it has lain dormant for perhaps thousands of years without discovery, so we decided to cover it up instead. Secrecy is the best defense, sometimes.

    Interesting, Hyun hummed idly. Secrecy requires trust and loyalty. I was under the impression most of Jabbar’s army was made up of mercenaries who followed him for profit and glory. Wasn’t he worried one of them would leak the information or return to take this power for themselves?

    Ha! You would never say such a thing if you’d met Jabbar, Aiguo said and smiled. The men feared him as much as they respected him. One twitch of his eye was enough to make your blood freeze. A single flash of his teeth made some men fall to their knees. Not a single one of those men or women who were with us would have betrayed him. While he commanded, he brought us victory and wealth, while only cruel, agonizing death awaited his enemies.

    You sound as if you admired the beast, Hyun said.

    How could one not? Look at what he was able to accomplish. In less than a year, starting with only a handful of samurai, he conquered half of Savara and set sail to destroy Lucifan. That is a feat enviable by all, is it not? No one had ever tried to do that before—assault Lucifan—and yet he did! And the only thing that stopped him was a colossus and a little girl with basilisk blood. If I may be so bold, what’s not to admire?

    Hyun didn’t immediately agree, nor did he disagree. Aiguo had made a solid point. Jabbar had been a superb leader, capable of efficient strategy and effective planning. He’d understood human nature so well that the rakshasa had bound a lawless land to himself in a remarkably short time. Not to mention he was strong enough to survive countless assassination attempts. If any of Jabbar’s other kin shared such traits, it was no wonder the Lady Xuan wanted rakshasas under her command as military advisors.

    With just a few of those beasts leading her armies, Lady Xuan would sweep over Juatwa like a whirlwind. Hyun smiled just thinking about it.

    Sir! one of his samurai shouted. We can see the passageway!

    Excellent! Hyun shouted back. Keep at it, but if you feel exhaustion come on, step away to catch your breath. The sun is fierce today.

    They should have waited until the evening to do this, but Hyun had been too eager. He’d been in Savara for over a year now and still had not completed his task. His lady, the wonderful and beautiful Xuan Nguyen, had entrusted him to capture two rakshasas—one male, one female—and bring them to Juatwa. The problem was that rakshasas were becoming exceedingly hard to find.

    Their entire race was being exterminated.

    After Jabbar had wreaked havoc across half of Savara, the surviving warlords realized the potential problem rakshasas presented. They issued bounties in excessive amounts for severed rakshasa heads. The beasts—despite their fierce nature—were hunted down savagely, their extraordinary strength being no match for the overwhelming numbers of Kshatriya, mercenaries, and bounty hunters who every day sought to slaughter their kind. The rakshasas were driven into hiding, those few that remained, and there were even rumors that no rakshasas were left. Hyun desperately hoped those rumors were false, for he could not bear the thought of failure. He couldn’t allow it. He had to succeed and find not one, but two rakshasas for his lady.

    This was the reason why Hyun hadn’t killed Aiguo several months ago when the former samurai had sought him out.

    Please, sir! Aiguo had said, begging on his knees. Please, let me join you! I’ll do anything to return to Juatwa and become a samurai again. I swear allegiance to the Lady Xuan Nguyen and her cause. I swear to lay down my life for her, if you’ll only take it. Please!

    Hyun didn’t trust this man any further than he could throw him, not now or then. Firstly, Hyun knew Aiguo didn’t give a damn about Lady Xuan or her cause. The only thing this wretch wanted was to be out of this living nightmare of a land and back in a place of honor in a standard army. Not only that, but Lady Xuan was the most powerful shogun in Juatwa, which made her the most powerful person in the world as far as Hyun was concerned. Aiguo just wanted to join the winning side, and although Hyun couldn’t blame him, that didn’t mean he had to trust him.

    Secondly, there was something else about Aiguo that bugged Hyun. As odd as it seemed, Hyun had a profound dislike for the way Aiguo looked and moved. Aiguo wasn’t ugly or handsome, scarred or refined. His skin wasn’t too dark or too light. His hair was pulled back into the queue of a samurai and was colored with just the right mix of black and brown for it to shine in the sun but to remain invisible in the night. Aiguo didn’t carry himself with too much pride, or too little, and his eyes were a dull brown while his face lacked any distinguishing marks. What all this came down to was that Aiguo had a very forgettable face and was difficult to pick out in a crowd. There were times when Aiguo arose in the morning, and Hyun swore he’d never seen the man before in his life. Aiguo’s face had a consistent calmness about it that left you wondering whether he was happy or sad, hopeful or dejected. His eyes were empty and void of feeling.

    And then there were the rumors. Always there were rumors.

    Hyun had heard stories about the late Katsu’s wife, this woman named Heliena, whom Aiguo had served. Word was she’d been an exceptionally cruel person of striking beauty. She’d enjoyed watching torture rather than dance, killed needlessly even when commanded not to, and had taken pleasure in exerting control over her subjects. One of her favorite things to do was to break their spirits by making them perform cruel acts to prisoners while she watched. There were tales of children being fed to komainu, families having their fingernails ripped out, and whips being liberally applied for minor infractions. If there was any truth to the stories, then Aiguo had performed more than a few atrocities in his life. Whether or not Aiguo had done so willingly, Hyun could not tell. All he knew was that he didn’t like people who were hard to read, and Aiguo was like a book of blank pages.

    I would enjoy killing him, Hyun realized. A blight on humanity, this one. If only I didn’t need him!

    What made Aiguo useful was twofold. The first was that he knew Savara well, having conquered half of it in service to Jabbar and then surviving another two years here on his own. The second was that Aiguo had been so desperate to prove his loyalty that he’d divulged a closely held secret, which was what they were about to uncover.

    The last stone was hauled away by a shirtless samurai dripping buckets of sweat in the desert heat, and a strong wind kicked up a wall of sand and scattered it across the men, Hyun, and Aiguo alike. None flinched other than to close their eyes, and once the sand settled, Hyun finally got a look at what their hours of labor and Aiguo’s information had wrought.

    A small cave no bigger than an oni was revealed. The interior was a hollowed darkness, immune to the sun’s light and pitch black to Hyun’s sun-adjusted eyes. He squinted but nothing came of it. He walked forward and patted his men one by one, thanking and congratulating them with nothing more than a slow nod and a wordless promise that he’d see them all well rewarded when they returned home. They nodded in reply, their eyes and lips motionless, saying they needed no other reward than to serve the Lady Xuan. Hyun’s heart swelled with pride, and when he glanced back at Aiguo, it took considerable effort to hide his scorn.

    You’ll lead the way? Hyun said more than asked.

    Of course, sir, Aiguo replied, going rigid in his stance. Right this way.

    Just in case you or your rakshasa master trapped the place, Hyun thought to himself and then followed Aiguo into the tunnel. Behind him, he heard two of his samurai strike up torches and take up the rear.

    The orange, flickering light danced across the cave walls, casting as many shadows as it dispersed. Hyun found a littered landscape of boulders, sand, and dust strewn across the path. Aiguo stepped carefully over some rocks and around others, and Hyun took care to follow Aiguo’s every move precisely. He motioned for the two other samurai to do the same. As they stepped and scraped down the tunnel, their movements echoed against the rock as if they were double their number. The sounds made Hyun’s teeth clench and his swordhand flex, ready to rip free his katana.

    What if this thing is not dormant? What if this power is lying in wait, just praying for the chance to rip apart the first men who come? Aiguo could have bound it to his service already! What good will a sword do against clay? I may very well be marching to my doom.

    Cautiously, Hyun slipped closer to Aiguo. At the first sign of betrayal, he would decapitate the wretch on the spot.

    Here, sir. It’s right here, Aiguo called out and pointed left. Just around this corner. We concealed it with rocks, just in case.

    They came to the end of the tunnel, which was still just large enough for an oni to pass through, and came face to face with a few massive boulders half the size of themselves stacked upon each other. Hyun gave Aiguo an annoyed look.

    Jabbar put them there, Aiguo said, shrinking under Hyun’s gaze. He assumed it’d be him to come back and move the rocks, as well. I think we can clear them, though. We just need some leverage. Your sword, perhaps?

    I’d sooner use your severed leg than befoul my family’s katana.

    Yes, yes, sorry. Aiguo cringed and smiled as if he’d only been joking. I didn’t mean that, honestly. A torch, then? Really, I don’t think it will need much here than a bit of leverage, I promise.

    Hyun nodded to one of his samurai, and the torch was passed. Aiguo took it and began wedging it into place, then started tugging. He grunted with his efforts, held his breath a moment, and then looked at the three of them.

    Some assistance, if you’d be so kind? he said.

    Hyun glanced at his men and nodded, then he and his samurai joined by gripping the top of the rock.

    On three, please, Hyun said. One . . . two . . . three!

    They all heaved, and the rock shifted, spitting dust and sand into the air, which sparkled in the yellow torchlight. A moment later, the boulder toppled, taking the others with it and causing a small rockslide that tumbled down to slam into the passageway. The samurai only just leapt out of the way, and they coughed as dust and sand filled the air. It took a moment for things to be visible again, but when they were, Hyun saw the cleared boulders had revealed a pocket of space at the tunnel’s end.

    In that pocket was the power Hyun sought.

    At first glance, one might think they had stumbled upon a small, crude version of a colossus. That is to say, this thing was a huge statue about the size of an oni made of solid, brown-red clay. It was roughly humanoid in shape, having two legs, two arms, a head, and five digits on each extremity, but each limb was a massive column of clay that Hyun wouldn’t have been able to wrap his arms around. Also, no details had been etched into this figure. There were no abs or skin lines, knee joints, elbows, veins, or ears. There was no mouth, hair, fingernails, toes, calves, armor, or helmet. This statue had been made to appear most basic, like a flat canvas of a person just waiting for the sculptor to add the first detail. Tiny indents for eyes and a short bump for a nose were the only features given. The thing looked as lifeless as the dead. A thick layer of dust and sand covered every part of it, giving some hint as to how many hundreds or perhaps thousands of years it had lain silent here.

    As promised, sir, Aiguo said. A golem.

    Hyun stepped forward to inspect his prize. With some reluctance, he released the grip on his sword and reached out to touch the monstrosity. His fingers touched cool, hard clay that was rough, save for those parts smothered in dirt. He marveled at the thing, feeling his breath go heavy and deep.

    Tell me the story, Hyun commanded. How does it work?

    As you wish, Aiguo said and bowed. It should come as no surprise that these things are the work of jinn although the reason for why they were made is obscure. One legend states the jinn were jealous of the colossi and attempted to make their own army. Another rumor states an ancient warlord or king, power hungry and mad, made a wish to convert his entire people into golems.

    As much as I’m interested in the lore, Hyun interrupted, let me be clear. Tell me how the thing works first, and then tell me how they came to be.

    Of course! Of course! Aiguo chuckled nervously. My apologies! How it works is surprisingly simple. All one has to do is carve their name into the golem’s forehead, and then it will obey your every command to the best of its abilities. Or at least, that’s what I’ve been told. I’ve never seen one used before. Supposedly, all commands must be given verbally, and the golem must be within earshot to obey them. Once again, don’t ask me why. They have no ears, so I’m not sure why that should matter, but apparently it does. Also, the commands have to be simple enough to perform. A golem won’t understand a command to build a bridge or write a poem, but it will understand a command to lift a rock or dig a hole.

    Or crush a foe? Hyun asked.

    Absolutely.

    A servant of solid clay, Hyun whispered in awe, unswerving in its loyalty. Strange to think that the most obedient thing I command will no longer be a samurai.

    He paused to glance at his men, wondering if they’d take offense to the comment. Judging by the awe in their faces, though, they hadn’t even heard Hyun speak. That was probably for the best.

    Look at this thing, Hyun continued, letting awe overtake him as well. Its hands could wrap around a man’s head! The strength it must have to move itself; the number of uses such a thing would have. It’s a wonder why Jabbar never bound it to himself.

    That there is where the lore comes in. Aiguo raised a finger hesitantly, almost as if he were embarrassed to do so. Remember, I said these things are the work of jinn. Therefore, they are inherently cursed. Binding a golem to yourself is permanent until either you or the golem dies. If you die, the golem becomes inactive until a new name is etched into its forehead. However, if the golem dies, you will die, too. The binding on its forehead requires a piece of your soul, you see. It runs off your life force, or so the legends say. If ever anyone manages to crush this golem, you’ll fall dead instantly wherever you are. Jabbar wasn’t willing to take that kind of risk.

    Hyun touched the golem again, putting a hand to the dead clay and feeling the roughness.

    Such a huge thing, he thought. It’s almost twice as tall as me and must weigh nearly ten times more. The strength it must have; I could kill an oni with this at my command. I will serve my lady better than ever before, better than anyone else ever will or could. She will love me.

    What could possibly destroy something like this? Hyun wondered out loud. A roc?

    That’s one way, Aiguo said. A roc could pick it up and drop it from above. Or a roc could drop a large enough boulder on a golem that comes too close to its nest. Another incident I’ve heard about is that a golem was once instructed to chase a karkadann, and to the master’s woe, the karkadann ran off a cliff and the golem mindlessly followed. These things have no concept of self-preservation, so they must be watched carefully. Another possibility would be if you ran into another master and your two golems fought. Golems are strong enough to crush each other.

    I see. How many golems are left in Savara?

    Only a few, Aiguo said, bowing as if offering condolences.

    Always so damned apologetic. Hyun sneered. It’s as if he knows his mere presence is an offence to this world.

    Some of the warlords Jabbar didn’t conquer have golems at their command, Aiguo continued. No one person can ever be bound to more than one golem, and these warlords keep the golems around as personal guards. There are others supposedly hidden away in old temples or in caves such as this. You’ll have to watch your back more carefully once you activate this one. Everyone with an eager eye and a hidden blade will be after you. Golems are worth more than all the wealth of some kingdoms.

    Let them come. In the meantime, I will secure two rakshasas for my lady and trample all who stand in my way.

    Hyun took hold of the golem and began to climb. He hooked one foot at its waist, gripped its shoulder, and hauled himself up to stand face to face with it. The thing’s two tiny indents for eyes stared back, dark and hollow save for the accumulation of dust. Its nose was nothing more than a protrusion—a pitiful excuse. Hyun drew his dagger and began to etch away into the forehead. The knife scraped loudly against the clay, chiseling slowly but surely.

    You will hear and obey, he said, the voice of Hyun Jee.

    He finished carving and blew over the scar, scattering leftover dust and sending flakes of clay flying. He put his knife away and examined his work. It was crude, he had to admit, being that a knife was not the best carving tool, but he hoped it’d be enough. He leapt off the golem and stepped back. Aiguo and the other two samurai were already pressed up against the tunnel wall.

    What now? Hyun asked in a hushed voice.

    I believe you need to issue it a command, sir, Aiguo whispered.

    They were all breathing ragged, staring with fixed and unblinking eyes at the golem, despite the dust still lingering in the air. Hyun could feel his heart thumping in his chest, but the only thing he heard was the flickering of torches. He noticed he was sweating despite the tunnel being quite cool.

    Am I afraid? Why? I have no reason to be afraid. Others should fear me.

    Golem! Hyun said, his voice shaking a bit as he cast off the nervous energy. Step forward!

    Hyun’s name, etched into the golem’s forehead, glowed bright blue as the statue shuddered and quaked to life. The golem lifted one massive foot, thrust it forward, and slammed it into the ground, where it landed on one of the large boulders that had been used to hide it, crushing the rock with terrifying ease. The tunnel shuddered and groaned, and Hyun heard one of his samurai let loose a fearful gasp. Eons of sand, dirt, and dust shook free, clouding the torchlight and filling the air with tiny particles that sparkled yellow and orange. The sound of clay grinding on clay echoed loudly down the tunnel, sounding like the mountain itself was about to collapse. Hyun leapt back and slammed into the tunnel wall just like Aiguo and the two samurai who were now pressed tightly against the rock. With only one step, the golem had moved forward to fill the tunnel, and despite a wall being in its way, the clay monstrosity lifted another foot to step forward again.

    Stop! Hyun commanded.

    The golem’s forehead glowed blue, and the statue froze, becoming as motionless as the dead before it could ram into the tunnel wall. The mountain went silent and still, and Hyun briefly wondered which would have won if he’d allowed the golem to continue. A few last bits of sand fell out of the ceiling, making the torches struggle to stay lit. For a time, the only thing that could be heard was the flicker of flames and the heartbeats of four men.

    Then, the tunnel filled with Hyun’s laughter.

    Chapter 1

    Takeo Karaoshi sat cross-legged in the sand precisely five paces from his family’s sword. The blade was rammed into the ground, point down with the sun rising behind it and the wind rushing along. Takeo watched his katana carefully, squinting whenever handfuls of sand were blown in his face, while he held the black sheath made of treantwood in both hands over his lap. He scrutinized the blade as best he could, inspecting the way it cut the wind with ease and never faltered in its purpose. He saw a weapon designed to kill, a tool with no other purpose than to cut down those who stood in its path.

    Just five paces away, Takeo saw an effigy of himself.

    Six months had passed since he’d spoken to the sennin and decided that his fate was to end the eternal wars that plagued this world. That was six long months of climbing down the king of mountains, traversing Juatwa to the sea, sailing to Savara, and seeking out the samurai named Hyun Jee. He had yet to complete the last part, unfortunately, but Takeo was waiting outside this particular Savara town for just that purpose. His immediate goal was to intercept the next messenger Hyun would send to his mistress, the shogun, Lady Xuan Nguyen. That messenger would know Hyun’s last location and thus could direct Takeo to the samurai.

    He’d been waiting for weeks now, and in all that time, Takeo had spent the vast majority of it exactly five paces away from his family’s sword, staring at its efficient yet simple design, its black handle, and reflecting quietly on all that had led him to this point and all that he planned to accomplish.

    Nearly five years ago, the love of Takeo’s life, Emily Stout, had both killed and died to a rakshasa named Jabbar, and the world had trembled at both their passings. Jabbar’s death had left a power void, while Emily’s death had left an opening in the rank of heroes. In the passing of a single battle, half the world was up for grabs on either side of the spectrum, ripe for the taking of anyone clever, bold, and strong enough to take it. Everyone and everything capable of holding a sword or hammer had taken up the lifestyle of marauder or vigilante. Homes burned, blood spilled, and wars started across all lands. The North raged against itself. Juatwa fought its bitter wars. Savara was supposedly a hotbed of activity, being a rugged cesspool of brutality and chaos where only the strong could survive. Takeo had seen these things all his life but never to such a degree. It shocked him that the skies above were not permanently stained black with smoke and that there were still towns left to pillage. Wars had quickly consumed the eastern half of the world, and five years had passed without a clear winner reigning supreme. It seemed the problem was there was no one clever, bold, or strong enough to assume the mantle left by Jabbar and Emily. It seemed the world was doomed to die slowly in a pillar of fire, and in the middle of it all, the innocents who wanted nothing more than to live their lives in peace would die, too.

    Without Emily, without the woman they called the Angels’ Vassal, there was no one to protect them. Takeo wanted to, as grand and impossible as that seemed. To do this, he would need to join and assist the winning side and help them conquer the world. It truly did not matter to him which side that was, whether they be saints or tyrants, just so long as the chaos stopped. Takeo already had a short list of rulers he considered joining.

    The most prominent was Lady Xuan. She was the woman who had sent Takeo to Savara, offering Takeo knowledge of his obscure past and also a place at her side if only he could capture two rakshasas for her—one male and one female. He had accepted because he desperately sought the knowledge of his family, but he wasn’t certain he would accept the second offer to join her. Truth be told, Lady Xuan was an ancient human, nicknamed the Old Woman of the Mountain, and Takeo doubted she would live much longer. This wasn’t such a bad thing were it not that Lady Xuan’s successor, her eldest son Pircha, was a man Takeo did not trust to lead the world out of these dark ages. Takeo thought Pircha both pretentious and inept, and assumed that the moment Pircha took over, the family name of Nguyen would have its days numbered.

    There were two other shogun in Juatwa Takeo could join. There were the Katsu cousins and Zhenzhen Hanu, wife of the deceased Jiro Hanu. Takeo knew next to nothing about any of these people, so he held judgement in reserve, but he did know their forces were considerably smaller than Lady Xuan’s. All this meant to Takeo was that their chances of conquering the world and stopping the chaos were less than that of the Lady Xuan.

    Takeo didn’t like those odds.

    Were he a desperate man, he might join up with one of the countless warlords in Savara, or maybe a jarl from The North. However, none of those men or women stood much chance of expanding beyond their immediate borders. The plan Takeo had was to fight for unity under one name, one banner, and one purpose, to bring an end to the perpetual violence that plagued this era. He’d do the deed himself were that possible.

    The overriding problem was that Takeo was just one man, armed with just one sword.

    He had friends and allies, of course. His immediate traveling companions were the gallant Sir Gavin Shaw, an ex-knight with a charming smile, self-depreciating humor, and a wicked good shield-arm; the overly confident Nicholas Stout, a huge viking with a death wish and an insatiable appetite for fame who was Emily’s younger brother; and finally

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