Rii stayed outside longer than usual this morning.
She always got up early to watch the dawn. There was no more beautiful horizon than that beyond the Sarai mountains, she thought. Nothing like the pink that slowly streaked the sky into purple.
Though, when she turned around to head back towards the mountainside buildings–mostly temporary arrangements built more for camouflage than homes–she thought she saw something in the western sky, too.
Squinting, Rii walked to the edge of the small platform and leaned out as if that would help her see.
The sky was lightening quickly. Far, far in the distance she could see the foggy carpet of green that was Hiyashi.
The fog seemed thick today, though.
Rii stared for another minute or two before she shrugged and stepped inside.
Her husband stood up as she entered, a cup of coffee in his hand. "Morning."
"Morning," Rii replied shortly, her eyes narrowing as they took in a new crate on the floor. "What's this?"
"The leather pouches." Josuke Chikanari downed the rest of his coffee in one long sip and set his cup down, hard.
"Good." Rii smiled grimly. "We sent the last of ours with Group A."
She bit her lip. Josuke noticed.
"You're still nervous?" he questioned carefully.
Her face hardened. "I'm irritated by the fact that our powder is going where I'm not. That's all."
He sighed as she tied on her mask.
"Well, what are your plans for today?" the man asked.
Rii smiled as the cloth made contact with her skin.
"I'm going to spend some time with Saemon. Training. And then I'm going to package our powder for our departure in three days." Rii stepped over to her sheath–leaning against a corner of the room–and buckled it onto her belt.
Josuke slowly tied on his own mask. "Sounds good. I'll probably deliberate over our maps for a few hours. Ignoring the fact that the routes are set in stone, now."
Rii laughed. "Nothing is set in stone, Josuke."
She left him then, shaking his head as she closed the door of the building that was both the powder house and their own headquarters. Well, it was Rii's anyway–she rarely let anyone near the powder.
Well, she knew what she was doing, Josuke consoled himself. Even if she was a bit blunt about it sometimes.
Josuke caught his breath as the door opened again. His wife stood there, her eyes unusually…cold.
"You need to see this," she said–and stepped away from the door.
He followed. She was looking towards the west. His eyes tracked her gaze.
Hiyashi. Fog.
No, not fog.
Smoke.
Abruptly, Josuke turned to her. Their eyes locked.
"That's not an accident," Rii murmured softly, her forehead twitching.
He shook his head. Maybe his hands were trembling. He couldn't tell.
"No. That's no accident."
Josuke drew breath in sharply, the air whistling between his teeth.
Smoke. Hiyashi was burning. The northern section of it, anyway.
"Can you see anything in the south?" he asked quietly. Her eyes were better than his.
She stared for a full ten seconds before she responded.
"No. Not yet."
Josuke was still for a moment as the numbers played out in his head.
Group A–led by Mino Harai–would hit the northern fringe in about five days. One day after Josuke and his wife left with their group for southern Hiyashi.
Josuke had a sinking feeling that that was no longer the case.
He studied the horizon again, his jaw tightening as he did so.
No. This wasn't a bushfire.
This was a conflagration.
"Well?" Rii asked softly.
"We have to change the plan." The words sounded dead to Josuke. "We have to…"
He shook his head again.
"I wish Eguchi was with them instead."
Rii smiled wryly. "Eh?"
"Yes." Suddenly Josuke gritted his teeth. "Because, unlike Mino, Eguchi is at least predictable."
Rii exhaled loudly.
"Maybe Eguchi can predict him."
Josuke did some more math. The numbers didn't add up.
"We can't send anyone after Mino," he added, "unless our rider gallops with the wind and switches horses along the route."
Rii's eyes widened.
"They'll have to be light," she added. "Courier. And the rest of us would have to meet now to put together the new plan."
Josuke made a point never to speak out of frustration in front of his wife.
He was tempted this time, though.
"I'll get Eguchi and the others," he said stiffly, heading towards the stairs off the platform. "Can you meet us in the hall?"
She nodded.
His footsteps sounded loud behind her. Slow at first, and then picking up momentum.
Rii glanced down thoughtfully at the sword hanging from her belt.
Then she unclipped it, left it inside the door, and followed her husband.
Six men were there by the time she got to the building. Josuke, of course. Eguchi. And four others.
Rii smiled as she stepped into the room and they all glanced at her. Their faces heavy. Their eyes heavier.
She tilted her head.
"Get your maps ready. Figure out that plan. I'll go debrief my replacement powderman."
She wasn't sure how many of the six had something very much like a heart attack, but she knew Josuke was one of them and Eguchi was not.
"Rii–" her husband began.
She didn't wait to hear the pain in his voice. She was already going.
She knew where Saemon would be. She hated to entrust the fourteen-year-old with the powder that could either save them or destroy them, but…
No one else had spent nearly as much time working with her. And no one else could move delicately enough.
Josuke did not follow her. That was good. He knew what had to be done.
Rii found Saemon in the small posterior building with the few other young rebel-affiliated children. He glanced up as she entered.
"Saemon," she said quietly. He was already standing up.
"Aunt Rii?"
She gestured to him. Towards the door. He came.
Aunt Rii. Of course that was what he had called her. No reason for anything else.
Though today she missed the other word more than she usually did.
"What's wrong?" the teenager asked as they walked towards the powder house.
"I'm going to be leaving for a few days. Maybe for longer." She rushed the words. That way feeling couldn't come out with them. "I'll need you to finish preparing the powder."
"Oh." Saemon took a moment to consider that. "All of it?"
"All of it." She managed a smile, though he couldn't see it. "You remember how, don't you?"
"Yeah." He swallowed. "When are you leaving?"
She looked distantly at the western sky.
"In a few minutes."
The boy frowned. "You didn't say–"
"Something came up," she broke in, opening the door of the powder house for him.
Saemon stopped asking.
Moving quickly, Rii picked up a leather bag from the crate, then moved over towards one of the boxes of powder.
"Uncle Josuke needs one hundred and twenty of these. Before he leaves. And the rest of the powder goes into the sea–but you won't have to do that. He'll take care of it."
Saemon blinked as he glanced around the familiar room.
"You're leaving your sword here?"
Rii caught her breath.
"Yeah. You can use it, if you want it."
His eyes lit up. She saw it, and her heart warmed, just a little bit.
"Any questions?" she asked gruffly.
The boy shook his head.
"Good," Rii said. "Now let me watch you fill a pouch."
~~~
They had the maps. They had the plan.
Josuke tried to hold himself together as he tied the small bundle together for Rii.
She wouldn't have time to memorize the route.
He hated that. He hated it all.
But he also knew he couldn't trust anyone else for this.
Eguchi stepped over to him as the other leaders filed out. The quiet man rested his hand on Josuke's shoulder.
"She'll come back to you," he murmured. "She's a real woman, Rii."
Josuke flinched as he broke contact and headed for the door.
He didn't thank Eguchi. He could do that later.
When it was true–or false.
Rii was outside, waiting. She took the papers from him before her eyes met his.
He grasped her arm tightly as she started to turn away. Rii glanced up, her eyes soft.
"Saemon is ready," she said quietly. "Everything is ready."
"Take Nishi," he whispered, referring to his own warhorse. Nishi was big. Strong. He could take Rii most of the way. And for the rest…she would have to find another mount.
Josuke decided he wasn't going to think about Nishi again.
Rii nodded. "Alright."
He didn't let go. But he pulled her into a hug.
One last time–
It had better not be the last time.
"For Karun," she murmured to him, as if she thought that would make him feel better.
He stepped back a moment later, pride fighting the tears in his eyes.
"For Karun–and her women," he corrected. "I trust you, Rii."
She had taken off her mask, he realized.
Kish'tar Rii Chikanari had put aside the ways of a warrior.
Now she was woman. Woman–and messenger.
She smiled at him.
"And her men."
That was all. He watched her turn and walk swiftly away.
Josuke's eyes went with her until she disappeared. His hand crept up to his chest without his noticing it.
They would meet again.
If only on the battlefield.