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It was a vast golden sea stretching off into the distance, just how Vincent had imagined it. He had expected to see the curvature of the world but soon remembered that, no matter how much he missed it, he wasn’t on Earth anymore. The ground was flat, completely and utterly. From where he stood he could see the ring of the mountains surrounding the plains like stone fire, the setting sun colouring them ablaze.
In Spring the grass would have been tall and green, alive with the vibrant colours of wildflowers and the trickling of melted snow streams running fast down from the mountains. Autumn had painted the fields golden, in the gentle breeze it looked like an expanse of amber fire. In the distance, Vincent saw a cluster of tents, a number of flags raised on polls, but he couldn’t make out the details.
Rapide brayed, shaking her mane with impatience. Vincent patted her strong neck and looked back over his shoulder at the Dragon King Ryujin. “Do you think we can make it to the camp before dusk?”
The typically silent man -still resentful for being forced to leave the palace- peered up at him from under his dragon skull helmet. He gripped the horns of his steed. The perfect white ivory swept back like handles instead of a rein and harness.
“Maybe. Inignis could, I’ve no doubt. Not sure about Rapide though. Not very true to her name, is she?”
Vincent turned away from him and sighed. “I guess it wouldn’t matter. It’s a still day.”
Ryujin came up next to him, his horned horse lanky in comparison to Vincent’s regular knabstrupper Mare. “If you want to try, be my guest. Not sure why you’re making a fuss about it.”
“It’s what they do, isn’t it?” Vincent said calmly. “Kings. They make a fuss.” With no more to say, Vincent spurred his horse and made his way into the rich plains at a steady canter. The descent was gentle and soon they hit the plains and began to pick up their pace. Vincent urged his horse into a graceful gallop, and he was soon followed by Ryujin.
They rode in silence.
Vincent was apprehensive about arriving at the camp, he could already see the fires being lit ready for the dark to settle in. He tried to look about him, to see if he could spot another group of horses riding towards the camp, but he could see none. Since the escape from the Dragon’s Palace he had been worrying, getting little sleep over the anxiety.
Ryujin closed the gap between them and they rode side by side. “You worry about Claire and Benzaiten?”
Vincent turned his head to Ryujin, his eyes were dark. “Yes. I only hope she made it out of the Palace in time.”
Ryujin chuckled and smiled. “We will see soon enough.” He made pessimism seem like optimism. The way he said it was as if encouraging, but the words were not so.
Vincent shuddered as the sun dropped behind the mountains, and the sky turned the same colour as the grass.
As they approached the camp, they slowed into a gentle canter again, following the trail of a thin river that carved through the plains. Low trees hugged the slopping banks, blossom was beginning to bloom on their pale braches and swans -both black and white- bobbed along the smooth surface of the river. A warm yellowish/orange light illuminated the trees, elegant Japanese lamps on ropes, zigzagging from one side of the river to another. The flags Vincent has seen from a distance were close now, and he slowed again into a leisurely trot to observe them.
They were a dark blue, although slightly pale, with a yellow circle at the centre of them. They hung limp in the calm breeze, but Vincent could piece it together in his mind.
“Ryujin,” he asked. “Who is this general exactly?”
The Dragon King grunted and shifted in his saddle. “That would be telling. I don’t even think you’d know who I was talking about if I said his name.”
Vincent pouted childishly, but corrected himself as he saw a small assembly of horses and riders up ahead with multiple foot soldiers, waiting by the outskirts of the camp. Suddenly it was like he had swallowed an apple whole. He tried to make out the details on the head man, then trying to spot yellow hair.
They entered the camp.
Vincent was drawn up by the leader’s massive stallion, a black morgan, even bigger than Ryujin’s anguis equus, which was already twenty one hands high. It’s legs were long and stocky with muscle, as was it’s chest and neck. It had a dark bridle, but no reins, and instead two metal handles which functioned like the horns on Ryujin’s steed.
Vincent was caught by the general’s eyes. He would have done a double take but he was fixated. Not eyes, an eye. A bright, brilliant blue left eye, the other covered by a leather and iron eye patch, shadowed by the shade of a grand iron helmet, slightly blue in colouration. A large, elegant yellow crescent was mounted on the front, one side longer than the other. The general wore a bellowing greatcoat, choppy and torn at the bottom, with a massive folded collar rimmed in yellow, meeting at his stomach, held tight by a sturdy metal belt with a yellow lightening bolt insignia. Atop his broad shoulders were strong thick leather guards, stretching across the top of his back and neck. Beneath his coat he wore black iron armour and a Kevlar undershirt that came up his neck. He seemed to wear dark jeans, plated with more iron and big boots, possibly steel toe capped. Black iron gauntlets covered his forearms, with a similar lighting bolt down the front to his belt. The end of the bolt seemed to carry on onto black gloves, splitting into five narrow lines that went down to his fingers. Six sword were at his sides; three on the left, three on the right. They were long, curved katanas in leather sheathes, a web of blue fabric between them like dragon wings. The aura that came from him was fierce and assertive.
Vincent was certain he was a god.
A god of war.
“My lord Date,” Ryujin bowed his head in respect.
Vincent did so too, gawkily and unprepared. Rapide responded by braying loudly and swaying.
The general smirked and sat on his magnificent beast, his posture was beautifully held, his arms folded across his chest. “Control your horse, master Song.” He said, his voice not too deep and with a slight gravel to its tone. “I don’t want my tent getting dirty because of you.”
Vincent flinched, but managed to muster enough courage to look up. “My lord, I am sorry for my disrespect. Please, accept my apologies.”
Date smirked and spurred his horse. It responded with grace, turning to enter the camp once again in a walk. “Don’t give me flattery, master Song. You’re not here to kiss my arse, you’re here to start a war which I expect you to debate with me with some ounce of passion.”
The troops parted to let Vincent and Ryujin through, their heads down in respect.
The camp was busy, a hive. Soldiers sat around fires with swords and spears, some with rifles and larger firearms. All of them wore a simple black and blue armour. There were few females among them, Vincent had noted. Azure Barracks was more popular with women than armies of ancient samurais.
They were lead to the centre of the camp, where they hitched their horses and were guided inside a large tent. Inside, it was spacious and luxurious, even by such standards. There were beautifully decorated cushions in a circle at the centre, a blue Japanese dragon painted on the back wall that pulsed and swayed in the slight breezed the caressed the fabric of the tent. Two lamps hung from the ceiling on rope, positioned so that they would not set alight the roof . The orange glow gave the space an intimate feel, more than homely or cosy. A small cherry blossom tree bloomed steadily in the corner.
Date gestured for them to sit down after they had removed their shoes.
Vincent and Ryujin bowed respectively before accepting the gesture. They were addressed by two sleek, oriental women, who served them a mug of warm sake.
Date sat opposite them, another dark haired woman slipped his belt and coat off, folding them and placing them to one side, undoing the fastenings of his armour. Everything she did was sensual, her movements finely constructed. Her blue kimono decorated with white dragons, her silky dark hair pinned up by silver hairpins adorned with lapis lazuli and sapphire.
Only for a moment was Date’s skin bare, before she slid a gown over him, running her hands over his shoulder and loosening his hair from the confines of his helmet. The woman sat next to him, silent.
For just a few seconds Vincent wonder how easy it would be to kill the man, right now, stripped of his armour and weapons. The gun at his hip was tempting, but he resisted Amaterasu’s part of him.
The one-eyed samurai closed his left eye briefly, before sighing and sipping his own sake. “Another group arrived around midday, if you are wondering,” he said placidly. “One was the goddess Benzaiten, I believe. She has changed so much. It’s almost painful. But her choice none the less.”
A yellow haired woman poked her head out from a fabric doorway, her eyes bright as she saw Vincent.
“Claire!” Vincent fought the urge to get up.
Claire beamed and entered. She was dressed similarly to the concubine at Date’s side, only amber and yellow diamonds were the jewels of her hairpins. She sat beside her husband, kissing his cheek and clasping his hand in hers. “I thought you didn’t make it. I was terrified.”
Vincent smirked and moved his free hand over hers. “I was, too.”
“Alright, lovely, a touching reunion. Now, what are you here for? Beside trying to start a war, obviously.”
Vincent shot a glance to Date. “We have a proposal, your lordship.”
There was a pause before Date’s deep laughter rumbled through the tent. “Please don’t call me that. You are not from my country neither are you my soldiers. Call me Masamune or Date. ”
Vincent nodded. “Since you know why we are here, I guess we can start procedures straight away?” He reached into his satchel for the documents.
Date raised his hand and Vincent stopped.
Vincent and Claire looked at each other, then back to their host. Vincent wanted to pull Claire into his lap and to kiss her, but in their present company, it would not have been appropriate. The silence that deafened them only added to those needs to reunite properly, to talk and to embrace.
“Just because I know why you are here doesn’t mean I want anything to do with this… uprising of yours.” He placed his cup on the floor in front of him, shutting his eye and letting out a heavy sigh. “I was hoping you’d understand that.”
With a swift movement Vincent drew the forms out and laid them straight, pushing them towards Date. “It’s no simple uprising. I am Amaterasu’s son by Shini Song. Surely you should know what that means?”
“I do not care who’s child you are, master Song. I am not getting involved. Not unless you compensate me for the lives you’ll surely lose.” Date sat up straight and ignored the papers. His concubine in blue squeezed his arm and whispered to him. “And I doubt you could give me anything right now.”
There was emphasis in those lines, Vincent noted. He ran the tone through his head. The urge to turn to Claire was unbearable, but he held it back for the few seconds it was there. “If you have no intention of joining us then why have you allowed us into your camp?”
“Because,” Date started hastily. “You have travelled all the way from the Dragon’s Palace to the Eastern Plains. That’s roughly five hundred and twenty six miles. Your horses are worn, you are spent. It would be inhuman of me to simply wave you away.” He took another sip of his cup. “You will recuperate here, I am not all beast. Perhaps you may try to convince me to join you, but I doubt it will be worth the effort.” He snapped his fingers and the concubine stood, picking up a shamisen. The woman began to play softly, and the mood lifted.
“We may not be able to give you anything right off of the bat, Masamune.” -personal- “Only you know what you want.” Vincent relaxed his hands, taking a deep breath.
Ryujin grunted in agreement. “He speaks for us. We can give you anything, now or later. Somehow, it doesn’t matter what it is.”
Claire remained silent.
Date raised an eyebrow and tilted his head. “I have the fastest horse in Elysium, an army at my command and an estate the size of China. What more could you give me?”
Vincent shrugged. “A permanent place in court?”
“What makes you think I have any interest in the Supreme Court,” Date interrupted briskly.
Another silence fell, and Date shut his eye briefly. When he opened it again, he was calm. He glanced from Vincent to Ryujin.
Claire breathed inwards sharply as he held her gaze. She relaxed when he moved from her.
“Whatever I want?” He pondered the shape of the statement. He let a low chuckle rumble through his strong form. “It’s such a strange proposition, master Song. But only Lady Amaterasu can give me what I desire. She promised it to me once. But her commands I could not carry out.”
Vincent cocked his head to one side. “What did she promise you, Date?”
“My Lord, an unknown force approaches.” A soldier stood in the doorway, panting heavily, sweat dripped from his brow, even in the cold evening air.
Date moved quickly to his feet, prompting his company to do the same, and his concubine stopped playing her music. “Do they prepare for an attack?”
The soldier shook his head. “I do not think so.”
“Good. Hopefully we can settle this without blood.” He turned to re-arm himself.
“My Lord, they hold your first son- Hidemune.”
Date spun back, his face cold. “Then perhaps not. Tell the men that they should be prepared for anything.”
The soldier left and let Date get ready.
Vincent put his arm around Claire’s waist and led her out of the general’s tent, Ryujin following them with dog like loyalty. Claire’s horse -Pax- was led around the corner by Benzaiten, still dressed in her baggy mechanic clothes. The akhal-teke was sleek and in the orange lamp glow its metallic coat shone.
Claire turned to Vincent and squeezed his shoulders, before wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him. “I guess we’ll be heading out with Date too?”
He breathed down her neck and sighed. “It seems that way. I doubt he’d let us try and spread our word to his soldiers.” They moved apart and walked side by side to Claire’s horse. Vincent saw the glorious black morgan again, glossy and proud. It was reminiscent of its rider.
“Scatebra’s the fastest horse in Elysium, Date said so himself. It was a gift from Amaterasu when he fought the angel uprising,” Claire said very matter-of-fact. She kept her head down. Having such light hair drew attention in this army.
Vincent narrowed his eyes and seemed to glare at the stallion. “So, Masamune Date’s had affiliations with my mother? We’ll need to look into this.”
Claire nodded and took the rein of her horse. “Don’t upset Date, whatever you do. We need him and his army. More than the others.” She spurred her horse gently and trotted towards the congregation of horses, ready to meet the intruders.
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