Chapter 94

5 A clump of Rust-Eaters stood tall, their marbled caps gleaming in the sunlight. Milo picked a handful of them and threw them into a mortar, along with a few different berries. Then he worked the pestle, crushing the ingredients until the contents of the bowl resembled fine golden sand. Finally, he mixed in a few fish bits to make it more palatable to cat-kind’s capricious tongues. “There, it’s ready!” he said, wrapping the offering in paper. “Try this, Your Excellency!” Milo’s skill in the healing arts was clear in the meticulous way he handled his tools, and his handsome face could usually charm even the stubbornest patients, but the old Chinchilla wrinkled his nose at Milo’s medicine, hiding his face beneath the covers. “Hmph! As if I, a noble samurai of Byoma, would ever be tricked into sampling the dubious concoctions of a lowborn outsider!” “Please, Shibafune,” said Yokan, standing by his bed. “This Nekoyanagi fellow has already cured the townscats of their Rust; I saw it with my own eyes. What cause do you have to suspect him?” “Hah! Some trick or another, no doubt. You have grown too trusting, my liege.” The strength in Shibafune’s voice was admirable, given his age and ailment. Yokan and Milo shared a worried glance. “And to top it all off, you have invited these witless strays into the castle! If your father, Rakugan, could see you now, he’d be ashamed! What am I to tell him when we meet in the world beyond—? Cough! Cough!” “Your stubborn streak is worse than it ever was, my old mog.” Yokan sighed. “There’s only one thing for it now. Prepare yourself!” He reached toward Shibafune with both paws and pried his jaws wide. “Aaaagh! Hie hiege! Hoo hannot ho his!!” “What’s that? I can’t hear you!” “I think he said, ‘My liege! You cannot do this!’” offered Milo. “Yes, I know. I was just…never mind. Administer the cure, if you will, Nekoyanagi.” Milo nodded and poured the Rust-Eater medicine into Shibafune’s open gullet. He was grateful for the shogun’s support, as Milo was on the verge of forcing the medicine down the uncooperative Persian’s throat himself. At least this way, he would avoid any awkward diplomatic incidents. “Cough! Cough! Wh-what have you done, my liege?!” “It’s okay!” Milo reassured him. “The medicine should take effect immediately! You’ll be up and walking by this afternoon!” “This afternoon, you say? Preposterous!” The Chinchilla cast off his covers and flapped his white kimono, revealing his bare shoulders where the Rust was deepest. “Look at this! My fur is falling out, my skin turned to rust! Laugh! Laugh at the once-great Shibafune of Byoma, reduced now to a shambling… H-howhaaa?!” All of a sudden, before his very eyes, the golden spores of the Rust-Eater began healing Shibafune’s infection. His chestnut-colored hair grew back in full force, and in moments it was like he had never had the Rust at all. “N-never in my nine lives…!” “I’ve noticed the cure works much faster on cats than it does on humans,” said Milo, putting away his things. “I expect your illness will be all gone by the end of today.” “Indeed. We cannot thank you enough, Nekoyanagi.” Yokan looked at Shibafune, who was patting himself all over in disbelief, and gave a satisfied nod. “You are this country’s saviors. Ask for anything, and I shall grant it. …Though, before we get to that, what say we share a drink together? It has been a long day.” “Don’t mention it,” said Milo. “I’m a doctor. I only did what needed to be done…” Then, the full realization of Yokan’s words set in. “…Wait, what?! Sh-share a drink?! But you’re the shogun! And we’re just strangers to this land!” “You are no strangers to me. I have seen the mettle of your spirit; it is time for me to show you Byoma’s in return. Now, come. Ah, not you, my old mog. You stay in bed and rest.” While his retainer reeled in shock, Yokan slipped out of the infirmary and headed for the castle’s dining hall. Out in the hallways, passing samurai bowed deeply as Yokan strode on by, and Milo felt all eyes on him. “E-erm, perhaps we shouldn’t do this after all…” “Stand proud, Nekoyanagi. Your lineage is of no import here. You are the savior of Byoma; act like it!” “…” “Akaboshi should be waiting for us in the dining hall,” he added, turning and flashing a feline smile. “A boy that age should not be kept waiting for his meals. Now, come. It’s just through here…” Three. Four. Five. Five empty plates. And just as Yokan and Milo entered, a sixth was placed atop the pile. “H-here is your salt-baked golden haddock, O honored guest! Apologies for the wait!” “And these are beckoning shrimp, Milord! They are exceedingly fragrant when enjoyed from the head—” “Looks nice! Gimme, gimme!” The serving maids were all in a great rush to accommodate the appetites of their singular patron. The redheaded barbarian snatched food from his seventh and eight plates, destroying their meticulous arrangement without even hearing how he was meant to eat them. Mmm, so fresh! I’m losin’ my freakin’ mind here!! As was perhaps to be expected from a nation of felines, the culinary offerings were mostly seafood-based, and fish in particular. Whether baked, boiled, or served raw, the flavors danced on Bisco’s tongue, delighting his rudimentary palate. I get it. All the fish up top evolved to handle the Rust, and that made ’em taste kinda crappy… Man, this tenderloin just melts in the mouth… Bisco leaned back in his seat, his tail flicking and cat ears twitching. “Erm, Milord… You’re not meant to eat the bone…” “More!!” Bisco bellowed, flicking his eighth empty plate to the top of the pile. The terrified serving maid scurried off, leaving Bisco to glare at the empty spot before him with what could only be construed as gently simmering resentment over each passing moment he remained unfed. The kitchen was in overdrive, working so hard to placate their guest that those bent over the stoves presumed there must be a hundred-strong feast taking place in the other room. Mmm. The food’s great, but this place is so weird. Bisco’s surroundings were beyond curious. Folding screens lined the hall, embroidered with scenes of feline heroes wrestling with tigers and dragons. Outside, rasp-like ornaments hung from the eaves, on which passing cats could sharpen their claws. And behind each floor cushion was what looked at first glance like some sort of armrest, and only later did Bisco realize it was for seated felines to rest their tails on. Bisco had been all over the Human Realm—or all over Japan anyway—and never had he seen anything remotely like it. On what strange adventures could his four legs take him were he to suddenly sprint from this castle and journey beyond the nearest mountain? Can’t see myself going back up top anytime soon… Bisco was toying with the thought of taking an extended vacation, when all of a sudden, a sliding door opened, and a voice cried out. “Ahh!” “Hmm?” Bonk! Bisco had barely registered the presence of his blue-haired partner and self-styled man of common sense when he felt a strike to the top of his head, sending him flying face-first into his empty plates. “Owww! What the hell are you doin’?!” “That’s what I want to know! When I heard the lord invited us to share a meal, this wasn’t what I had in mind! What were you thinking, eating all this by yourself before we even arrived?!” “Well, what was I supposed to do, just sit and wait? I’m hungry!” “That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do! Even Mushroom Keepers wait for the elder to arrive, don’t they?” “Well, yeah, but that’s different! We’re guests here, so we’re allowed to do whatever we want!” “No, you aren’t ‘allowed to do whatever you want!’” “Gwaggh! My throat! Y-you’re strangling me!” Given Bisco’s condition, the boys’ quarrel looked more like a catfight than ever, and that was saying something. It was only after a few rounds of pummeling that Milo remembered Yokan was still standing in the entrance, having not said a word. “…Ahh! Please forgive us, sire! I’ll make him behave, I swear!” But, astonishingly, Yokan burst out laughing. “Wah-ha-ha-ha-ha!!” His bellowing laughter echoed off the castle walls and continued for a while, giving the two boys enough time to share a perplexed glance. “Ha-ha-ha-ha! Oh, pray, excuse me. It’s quite all right, Nekoyanagi. You need not do anything.” “See? Bet you feel silly now, huh?” “I’m going to kill you when we get back…” “Rather, I must commend you on your magnificent eating style,” Yokan went on, regarding Bisco’s empty plates with what looked like admiration. “You leave only the bones and skin, and let nothing edible go to waste.” He stopped a serving maid to ask that his and Milo’s food be brought out, then he continued. “You see, samurai cats are a self-important breed. They often eat only the most delicious parts and leave the rest to rot. It has been some time since someone showed our prey the proper respect, as you do.” “Please don’t flatter him, Milord; it’ll go to his head.” “I say, you two quarrel like a married couple. What say you, Akaboshi? Room for seconds?” “You bet! Keep ’em comin’!” “That’s the spirit, my good mog. Now, let the feast begin in earnest!” Even the serving maids seemed relieved to see they had not gone against their lord’s wishes and began scurrying to and fro even faster than before, bringing out plate after plate of delectable foodstuffs. Even Milo, who until now had been keen to impress propriety, suddenly found himself whisked away on an incredible culinary journey. “Wh-whoa! Bisco! Get a load of this fish! It’s amazing!” “Yeah, these are good, too. Try ’em. It’s deep-fried somethin’.” “Deep-fried what?” “Dunno. Hey, Lord Dude, what’s in this?” “That is bellfish roe. One of my favorites, though others find it too greasy for their tastes.” “It’s amazing!” “Wah-ha-ha-ha!! What an amusing pair of fellows!!” Though Yokan had always been the black sheep of his family, so to speak, he had nonetheless spent his years bound by the rules of the shogunate. This may well have been the first banquet he had ever attended where he was content to let down his guard and enjoy the meal. Bringing a cup of sake to his lips, he watched with awe as the two boys devoured the platters. The next morning, Yokan pondered how monstrooms had appeared within Byoma Castle the night before. Suspecting the work of spies, he gathered his closest confidants and ordered them moved to a remote castle, beyond the reach of enemy agents. Shibafune and his peers were sent ahead first, and Yokan would follow…accompanied, of course, by the two foreigners whose personalities had taken his fancy the previous day. The hayfields glimmered gold in the morning sun, their stalks wet with dew. For two humans who had spent their entire lives amid Rust-blighted sand, it made for an impossible sight. Yokan sat astride his horse, the soft wind caressing his fur. “Our spies are combing the land for this human female called ‘Tirol’ of whom you speak,” he said. “I know you must worry for her, but rest assured, nobody knows these lands like…hmm?” Yokan turned to check on his two escorts, but there was nobody there. He spotted them a little ways back, clinging to their horses for dear life. “My,” said Yokan, surprised. “I thought you two were brave warriors. Have you not even the strength to keep your steeds under control?” “Keep talkin’! It wasn’t our choice! We ain’t never ridden horses before!” “Horses are an endangered species where we’re from,” explained Milo. “Nobody really remembers how to ride them anymore.” “That must be difficult,” replied Yokan. “In that case, how do you normally get about?” “By crab.” “…I’m sorry, what did you say?” “Yeah, our crab Actagawa!” said Bisco. “He’s bigger and stronger than any horse!” “You ride…crabs?” Yokan’s whiskers twitched in astonishment at the boys’ response. “Well, that is surprising,” he said at last. “I never figured you one for jokes.” “J-jokes?!” “But you must lighten up a little as you tell them. I very nearly believed you for a second there. Now, stay close. We’re nearly there.” “Hey, come back here! You callin’ me a liar?!” Meanwhile, Milo was starting to get used to this horse business, guiding his steed around with the reins while taking in his surroundings. There’s so much nature around. It’s like we’ve fallen into a fairy tale… Down here, there were none of the windswept wastelands that Milo was used to, nor any of the mutated beasts that roamed them. Peasant cats sang planting songs as they sowed the fields. The flowers were blooming, and from the distant villages could be heard the voices of playing children. It made for quite a different scene from the blood and tears of surface life. “The people…er, I mean, the cats seem so happy here…” “They’re calm,” Bisco agreed. “It just goes to show how much they trust their leader.” “Yeah. Yokan works hard for them, doesn’t he? I guess all that whimsy is just for show.” “Bullshit. Whimsy’s all he’s got.” “What?” “He does what he wants, when he wants,” explained Bisco in between struggling with his horse. “That’s why everyone likes him. They can’t help but fall in love with him.” “Huh… I get it…” “Then again, rulin’s not really my thing.” “I wouldn’t say that. I mean, if what you say is true, then you’d make a pretty good elder, wouldn’t you?” “Me? Ha! I’d rather be thrown into Six Realms to rot… Hey, horse! This way, not… Rrrgh!” Whether or not Bisco’s philosophy had any merit, Milo couldn’t deny his partner’s keen powers of observation. He waited a little for Bisco to get his horse under control, and when that seemed impossible, he cantered over beside Yokan instead. “It’s a beautiful country, isn’t it?” Milo said. “Hmm.” “I hear you often leave the castle. Is that so you can be closer to your subjects?” “You give me too much credit, my fellow. The wanderlust simply takes me from time to time, that’s all.” “You know, we have stories about you where I’m from. They say a samurai cannot understand his people’s troubles without seeing them for himself, and that Byoma’s peace is thanks to Yokan’s unwavering honor and righteousness.” “Honor, you say. Funny, I couldn’t think of a word less fitting, myself.” Yokan squinted into the wind, allowing it to ruffle his sleek black fur. “The seat of the shogun is all about compromise,” he said. “There is no honor in it. And many of my subjects find fault with the way I rule.” “But you defeated the wicked witch, Geppei Amakusa! That must count for something!” As soon as that name was spoken, a grim shadow crossed Yokan’s features. “Even aboveground, everyone knows how you put a stop to her evil schemes!” Milo went on. “We have plays, poems, storybooks…” “Evil, you say…” “…Sire?” “…I see. So that is how the tale goes in your world.” When Milo looked into Yokan’s mournful eyes, he suddenly couldn’t find it in himself to continue what he was saying. The black cat gazed off at the distance, as though he were looking into the very past. “I should be remembered as the evil one,” he said. “For it was I who snuffed the life out of one of this land’s greatest prodigies for the sake of peace.” “…” “I still see her, you know. In dreams.” His voice was quiet now. Like it might vanish on the wind at any moment. “I still wonder what might have happened if I had forsaken my country…and taken her hand instead…” “…” “Did you hear something, Nekoyanagi?” “No?” “Hmm.” “Waaaait for meeee!!!” A loud voice came from behind them, and the two turned to see Bisco galloping up to them, his horse whinnying with fright. “B-Bisco!” “My word!” Whatever he was doing, it wasn’t in any riding manual Yokan had ever seen. Bisco was gnawing on the poor horse’s head, using his whole body to force the animal into going in the direction he wanted. To his credit, it seemed awfully effective. “See this?” Bisco yelled. “There ain’t an animal alive I can’t ride!” “…Wah-ha-ha! You never cease to amaze, Akaboshi!” “I don’t think you can call that riding… It looks more like the horse is running away from him!” “We’re chasin’ after a bright new future together!” yelled Bisco, coming level with Yokan and casting him a competitive glare. “Race ya, Sooty. Last one to the castle’s a rotten plate of milk! The Yokan I know would never refuse a duel!”