Enca had no coherent shape, and at this east end of the small city the neighborhood devolved into a sort of shantytown that hugged the road for a considerable distance ahead. Sano hadn’t previously visited this area, and found it eerily like a tighter-packed and much dirtier version of his longtime home of Eloma. Disreputable-looking loafers, myriad unkempt children, dogs and cats and tied-up livestock (not to mention totally unrestrained chickens) eyed them from doorways or seats under roofs or merely where they stood or ambled in the tiny lanes among the clustered buildings with expressions ranging from curious and wary to completely disinterested. It seemed unlikely this was the favored route in and out of town, which was perhaps promising in terms of escaping unseen.
When cries arose behind them, however, indicating the direction of their flight had been noted, it was remarkable how quickly everyone in the immediate vicinity disappeared, leaving behind a somewhat disconcerting collection of empty alleys, closed doors, and a few remaining nervous animals for good measure. These folks probably represented the poorest selection of the Enca population, and it was understandable that even the slightest hint of a chase, even the distant sight of a city guard’s shiiya would send them scurrying. Of course, it had a similar effect on those actually pursued.
“This way,” was all the warning Hajime gave before making a right angle off the road into the nearest little twisting street between the crooked, unpainted structures built entirely of wood here where masonry was undoubtedly too expensive. As the other three followed his lead, changing direction frequently but in general moving away from Enca proper, darting among the grungy houses and workshops and sheds and who knew what else that comprised this part of town, Sano could feel unwelcoming eyes on them from cracked doors and windows and around corners. He hoped the denizens of the area would be no friendlier to those that came after.
Eiji was slowing them up. He obeyed Hajime’s instructions without hesitation, and seemed sufficiently athletic, but the fact remained that he wore a large backpack and simply couldn’t be as fast as the three adults — and also that those following undoubtedly didn’t have a twelve-year-old in their party to keep pace with. Since feelings of hostility would only provide another obstacle, Sano attempted to avoid them; it wasn’t the kid’s fault he was twelve. It wasn’t his fault he was who he was. But he definitely wouldn’t have been Sano’s companion of choice on such an adventure.
It proved wise to have entered the shantytown, where between trying to determine which turn their quarry had taken and to dodge crates and trash heaps and water troughs and the occasional oblivious resident the guards too were delayed, though maybe not enough. Sano could hear them behind — they didn’t shout except when surprised by some aspect of the environment through which they ran, but their footsteps pounded unsubtly against the unpaved earth — but fortunately, whenever he risked a brief look rearward, those giving chase were not yet visible. Thus he couldn’t be sure how many there were, nor exactly what the group was composed of — Elotica guards? Soujirou’s knights? Misao devoted? In any case, though they hadn’t caught up, neither did they seem to be falling behind.
At the front of their little party, Hajime’s head turned from side to side; undoubtedly he sought anything that would give them an advantage, and perhaps was considering the possibility of attempting to hide rather than continuing to run. These environs provided plenty of potential places of concealment, assuming the inhabitants didn’t oust or betray them… but with their enemies so close on their heels, would that be at all effective? Surely the guards would recognize the general area where they’d stopped running, and search so exhaustively that they would all quickly be found. And what then would happen to the kid? It was no fun envisioning what Hajime’s fate might be if recaptured, or Sano’s, but at least they two were active participants in the struggle against Soujirou’s regime and had entered into this business prepared for all contingencies. The knight couldn’t possibly be pleased that Tokio and Eiji — the latter of whom, at the very least, was completely unrelated to this business — had chosen just this moment to show up.
Sano couldn’t be quite sure how pleased he was that they’d chosen just this moment to show up. That they existed at all it was better for him to know than be ignorant of, and Tokio had been instrumental in gaining access to the shrine… but he didn’t like having them around, being persistently reminded of that existence of which he’d been unaware until earlier this very day. But discontented as he might be on the topic, he didn’t want to see an innocent kid taken captive, handled roughly, maybe separated from his mother, simply because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time… and perhaps related to the wrong people.
Whatever Hajime considered the best course, they needed to take it in a hurry; it was evident from the sounds behind them that their pursuers were gaining ground. Besides that, the previously cramped streets were beginning to widen, and the light grew brighter as the buildings drew farther apart; the city was petering out in earnest now, and they would soon be required to turn back toward its depths, which were presumably inhabited by more enemies, or lose this cover entirely. At certain turns Sano could see opener spaces ahead; Hajime, observing the same, put his hand briefly to the hilt of his confiscated keonblade, as if his next idea was to turn and fight… but almost immediately released it. They didn’t know the number or strength of their hunters, and there was still Eiji to think of.
Before any other decision could be made, a new set of noises suddenly erupted behind them: shouts and crashes and the clash of weapons. Hajime skidded to a stop as abruptly as the din had begun, and so unexpectedly that Tokio ran into him. He caught her shoulders to steady her, but he was staring in the direction they’d come, eyes wide. Eiji and Sano too stumbled to a halt and looked back, but they could see nothing — only hear the indications of a sudden, unforeseen skirmish in their wake.
“They’re buying us time,” Hajime said, shaking off his surprise. “Come on.”
“Who?” Tokio wondered as she joined him running again.
“It may just be some of the locals.” And it might merely have been Sano’s imagination — he was at the end of the line, and couldn’t hear very clearly with Hajime facing ahead like that — but it didn’t sound as if the knight believed this.
To the distant, fading noises of altercation behind them, with one voice rising tauntingly above the rest though still unintelligible from here, their route now took them directly out of the shantytown to the very edge of Enca and beyond. A stream, thigh-deep at its center and dismayingly filthy as it made its way alongside the dirtiest part of the city, seemed to mark the final boundary, and once they’d waded this their next step was to climb a fence into a hayfield and set off across it as quickly as possible. The field had recently been harvested, so the only cover here was the intermittent stacks held down by tarps staked to the ground, but if they could reach the opposite end without being seen, they could disappear pretty effectively in farmland, thanks to the unknown parties that had evidently attacked and certainly slowed their pursuers.
The sky had clouded halfway over while they’d been inside the shrine, but the smell of impending rain was completely overridden by the pleasant but overwhelmingly rich scent of fresh hay, and Sano sneezed more than once as they made their way across the lengthy field. He only glanced around a couple of times, abandoning the action eventually in favor of speed when he saw nothing to alarm him between the dingy buildings that grew more and more distant with every step. Then they had only to cross another fence and a narrow ditch with muddy water at its bottom before they emerged into a cypress-lined lane where they were completely hidden from the sight of anyone within the borders of Enca. Here they were able to pause, catch their breaths, and consider where to go next.
“Let me wear that backpack,” Tokio said at once to the panting Eiji, reaching out a hand.
He did not immediately comply. “But what if you need to fight? It’ll get in your way.”
She pursed her lips, obviously seeing the sense in this argument but still wanting to make the journey easier on him. Sano, not particularly caring who wore the thing nor liking to watch either of them, looked around instead.
The lane, wide enough for a cart but no bigger, ran roughly north to south, though in the latter direction it curved slightly so the cypresses running along it hid its course from view; it probably connected with the road out of Enca in that direction — meaning, though Sano would prefer to turn south since there Elotica lay, it would be unwise to do so at the moment.
“It shouldn’t come to that,” Hajime was saying; “let her have it.” He seemed to direct his next words, pitched low, to Tokio specifically. “Fighting degenerate devoted is one thing; city guards or false knights are a little outside your job description.”
On the opposite side of the lane, a neat wall rose up over whose top the heads of trees were visible. Sano recognized an orchard when he saw one, but guessed those boughs to be full of olives, a harvest he was not familiar with. Whatever grew there, though, the fugitives might conceivably search out the opening leading inside and make their way through that private space to wherever its far end might be; but not only was he unhappy at the thought of encountering orchard workers, he didn’t much like the idea of being surrounded by walls should their pursuers happen to follow them inside.
“They are well within yours, though,” said Tokio, “and I’m certainly not going to let you face them alone.”
“Not alone,” Sano muttered sourly; but as his back was to them, they either didn’t hear him or chose to ignore his words.
Past the nearest corner of the orchard walls, some distance away up the lane to the north, he could discern an opener area through the line of trees where a shorter crop seemed to be growing in rows. Anyone working that plot could see them if they went that direction, but if they hugged the orchard wall, kept low, and hurried, it might be some time before anyone paid them significant attention. He would still much rather head south, but Hajime had been correct earlier — damn his constant correctness — in saying they needed to shake pursuit before they attempted to return to the capital.
“I won’t hesitate to kill anyone who gets too close,” the knight was warning.
“Then I’ll speak their death rites,” she replied just as grimly.
“Fine.” Sano suspected Hajime would prefer Tokio keep entirely clear of any fighting that might happen from here on out — the comment earlier about ‘practicing with that little knife’ hadn’t suggested a great deal of confidence in her combative abilities — but didn’t feel he had time to argue.
Looking back over at the knight, Sano found him too examining their surroundings. The younger man gestured and suggested what he had in mind: “Along that wall there?”
At the first sound of his voice, Hajime met his eyes very naturally as he might have under normal circumstances prior to the appearance of the Visitant and her son; as he’d been doing all day, however, he removed his gaze with awkward immediacy and looked where Sano indicated. He gave a sharp nod, and, somewhat to Sano’s surprise, responded specifically to the proposal: “Good idea, Sano.” This was the second time he’d needlessly tacked Sano’s name onto the end of an unexpected commendation; Sano simply didn’t understand his current behavior. Not that he needed to. There’d been a time when he’d thought it might be a useful skill for his future to understand Hajime; that time had passed.
The knight glanced at Eiji as if to check whether he was ready and that the discussed gear transfer had taken place. Then he commanded, “Let’s go.”
They set off now at a slower pace — still quick, but more of a cross-country speed that could be maintained — and in the same order as before: Hajime leading, keeping a sharp eye out for trouble ahead; Tokio wearing the backpack in which she and Eiji presumably kept supplies for their journeys from town to town inspecting shrines and devoted; Eiji silent and intent, even somewhat dour at the potentially dangerous situation in which he found himself; and Sano in the rear carrying out his disconsolate self-appointed task of checking behind from time to time for signs of pursuit.
Reminded by thoughts of what might be in the Visitant’s backpack, he wondered what had happened to those apples he’d bought this morning. Had he lost them when Tokio had attacked him? Or had he dropped them in the street while he’d been so incoherent trying to decide what to do? Perhaps even earlier than that — in that horrible empty inn room with its broken door? He’d been so worried. So worried — and now he knew exactly why — and it had turned out Hajime not only didn’t need rescuing, but wouldn’t meet Sano’s eye for any reasonable length of time, and was, in fact…
There really was nothing to do but continually look behind in case they were being followed. Looking ahead was too bleak.
Yet as they moved on, coming eventually to the end of the orchard wall, carefully crossing another lane, and beginning to pick their way over a field of what seemed like unnecessarily huge lettuces, he couldn’t help listening ahead. For Tokio seemed to believe they were safe to converse, and Hajime conveyed his agreement by answering. Sano’s position rendered them continually difficult to hear, no matter how tight he strove to keep the line, especially given the cautious volume used by each, but he struggled to catch everything out of an almost masochistic jealousy.
Yes, jealousy. That was the word; he might as well own it. But it was, and had been since its inception, the jealousy of despair. He hadn’t know he might be jealous until he’d known there was something to be jealous of… and by then it was too late for hope.
“What do that white devoted and his fanatical followers have to do with all of this?” Tokio was wondering.
“I don’t believe Soujirou’s takeover was carried out entirely under his own motivation,” Hajime replied. “Any number of devoted may be involved, but Aoshi, at least, is loyal to our new king.”
“How do you know? His second-wash seemed exclusively loyal to him.”
“Aoshi delayed sending to Elotica for a force to take me into custody because he wanted to question me personally first — which was foolish of him, since keeping drawn blades nearby for an extended period of time when he wasn’t actually inclined to kill me just gave me more opportunity to get the rope cut and attack him.”
“You’re going to be famous for your daring escapes,” Tokio laughed. “I hope you know one of the rumors out of the capital that brought me this direction was something ridiculous about you evading Soujirou by jumping through a second-floor glass window and vanishing into thin air.”
Hajime snorted, and didn’t bother to admit how much of this was true.
She let it go. “But why didn’t the rabbits take you in themselves instead of sending for someone?”
Hajime’s answering tone was a combination of annoyance and disdain he not infrequently used to discuss religious topics. “I think Aoshi really did go there to meditate. I believe he wants to seek forgiveness with his lady.” Sano knew his eyes were rolling without having to see them. “He certainly looked forward to sending me to Soujirou, and before that he wanted to find out what threat I and my allies are to his precious new king, but I think he truly regrets the murders he’s committed so far.”
“He may find forgiveness from Misao,” Tokio said sternly, “but that doesn’t absolve him of blame on the mortal level.”
“He’ll never face justice under Soujirou’s rule.”
“Then we’d better get Kenshin reinstated.” At least that was what Sano thought she said; rain had begun to pour from the darkening sky, and he could no longer make out anything clearly from up ahead. He couldn’t decide whether he preferred it this way. They’d only been discussing the situation — nothing particularly private — and Sano himself had been curious about Aoshi and the circumstances of Hajime’s brief captivity at the shrine… but he disliked hearing them talking together at all, petty as he knew that was. In any case, he couldn’t stop the rain from falling, so it didn’t signify how he felt about the conversation — potentially much more personal now — that might or might not still be going on in front of him.
They proceeded through various fields and pastures, actively encountering no one but observing workers, eyes averted against the shower, frequently enough — and once, down a small road they subsequently crossed in haste, distant figures in white on horseback. Recalling how persistently the mounted ‘knights’ had followed Hajime when he’d fled the city after his first daring escape (the one he already was famous for), Sano couldn’t be pleased at this sight, even though it was entirely possible the riders had nothing to do with them.
The rain kept up heartily for at least an hour, and after not too long Sano was as miserable physically as he had been mentally for some time. Eiji too, plodding through the wetness before him, seemed far from happy with the situation, but Sano couldn’t bring himself to feel much sympathy. How the man and woman in front were faring Sano didn’t know; he tried to tell himself he didn’t care.
They’d avoided farm buildings thus far, but in the afternoon when Sano believed his flesh and muscle as well as every stitch of his clothing was finally soaked completely through, Hajime seemed to be heading more or less directly toward the latest cluster of houses, barns, and sheds. At the last fence they would need to climb to make their final approach, he stopped and gestured for a huddled conversation.
“We’ll hide somewhere over there. Once the sun goes down, it may be safe to start making our way around to Elotica.”
“What about the farmers?” Sano wondered. He saw little motion among the buildings through the haze — and one instance of what he did see moving was an enclosed group of pigs apparently enjoying the rain very much — but there were still sure to be people about all day that might very well stumble upon them, and how they would react he couldn’t guess.
“It’s a chance we’ll have to take,” replied Hajime without looking at Sano. “We can’t keep heading away from Elotica, but I don’t think it’s safe to go south just yet; we need to get under cover for a while and lie low. For one thing, I assume you have a report for me; for another–” with a glance at Eiji, whom he was willing to look at– “we need to get out of the rain and rest.”
Somewhat to Sano’s amusement — certainly the first instance of that emotion he’d felt all day — Eiji appeared a little annoyed at this evident concern for his youthful health. If he was anything at all like Sano had been as a twelve-year-old, he would much rather demonstrate his ability to continue on across whatever terrain and through whatever weather for as long as necessary… but this would not be countenanced by the adults watching over him — in which number, at least to a certain extent, Sano grudgingly had to include himself. It was an earlier proposed rest than any taken between Eloma and Enca, but if Hajime was more concerned about Eiji’s wellbeing than he had been about Yahiko’s, that was only to be (cheerlessly) expected. And perhaps there was a little unspoken concern for Tokio’s wellbeing too; Sano had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate the gesture any more that her son did.
“That shed there.” She pointed. “It’s the only building I can see whose door doesn’t face in toward the farmhouse. It’s probably the safest place for us to break into.”
“Breaking into farm sheds,” Hajime commented with a smirk and a sidelong glance at her. “What kind of church official are you?”
“One who serves all the divine ladies,” she retorted, voice much drier than their surroundings, “including Misao.”
“But has she forgiven you for beating up her devoted? Is she likely to help you break into anything at this point?”
Tokio rolled her eyes. “Spare me your disbelief, at least until I’ve had a chance to dry off.” She moved forward and placed her hands on the top slat of the rain-slick fence.
They did, in fact, have to destroy the lock on the shed door — this was one of many things a keonblade was useful for, along with doubling as a lamp in the unlit interior — but besides that they reached and entered the place without any trouble. Whether its current uninhabited state would continue was anyone’s guess, but at least for now they were out of the weather and out of sight.
It was a wide, flat structure half sunken into the earth, with walls made entirely of stone to retain as much cool air as possible, and its dirt floor was reached by several steps leading down from the door; this rendered it somewhat difficult to hold the latter closed once it would no longer latch properly after their vandalism, but a couple of sacks of potatoes propped against the ingress and each other eventually did the trick.
In fact the entire place was full of vegetables, and its atmosphere overwhelmingly that of earth and carrots and cabbage, not all of the scents fresh. Without even discussing the matter they headed immediately toward the far end — where Sano was disappointed to find no back door, which would have been terribly convenient for their purposes if not those of the farmers hoping to keep off thieves — past floor-to-ceiling racks of vegetables laid out or hung up in bunches that made the place feel like a dark, fragrant forest comprised of unfamiliar trees.
There was no particularly convenient place for them to stop, given that the rows of stored produce ran all the way to the rear wall, and the space available in the aisle was limited, so eventually they just settled onto the floor in the same line they’d maintained all along, wet and tired and still slightly paranoid about their chosen hiding place, and attempted to get the best rest they could out of these uncertain circumstances.