Doctor Who_ The Room With No Doors - Kate Orman [82]
Kame laughed at himself, softly. He had just been thinking how his armour was quite adequate for now, since it was unlikely he would survive the battle to come. But then, were he struck down, Kannon would simply resurrect him – it was a strange mercy, to feel the blade or the shaft bite deep, to feel the overwhelming moment of blackness, and then to find yourself struggling back to life, like a man dragging himself from the pit of despair to fight on.
Kuriisu-san walked over and sat down next to Kame, silently. His strange blue eyes seemed misty, like the sky seen through the haze of distance, almost as though he was meditating. Kame had seen the look before, in the eyes of those who had been defeated in battle. And yet there was no way out for the brave-hearted foreigner, no seppuku to escape shame or enemy capture. He had to keep fighting on and fulfil his duty.
‘When I was a young man. . . ’ the ronin said gruffly.
‘Chiyono’s dead,’ said Kuriisu. ‘Did you know her? When you were here?’
‘The nun? I remember her, though I never spoke to her.’
Kuriisu fell silent once more. After a while, Kame started over again. ‘When I was a young man, I thought that losing my master was the worst thing that could possibly happen. Before I had entered his service, I was living in a chilly hut with eight brothers and sisters, lucky if my belly was filled with millet twice a day. I would have nightmares about my lord being slain in battle, wake up at night grasping blindly for my sword while my wife sleepily asked what the fuss was all about.’ He barked a laugh. ‘Once it had actually happened, though, it did not seem so terrible.’
Kuriisu-san didn’t answer, though Kame could tell from his face that he was listening. ‘It’s true, I almost decided to follow my master into death. I lost nearly everything, but I did not lose everything. I kept my life, my health, my honour. And I found useful work, work that required courage and intelligence.
It was a matter of rethinking my views on life, as we all must do from time to time.’
‘I’m thinking,’ said Kuriisu-san. Kame was taken aback by how pale and calm the young man’s voice had become.
‘What are you thinking about?’
‘I’m thinking about all the worlds that are going to die because he’s not there to save them. All the people that are going to die because I’m not him.’
‘There is nothing for it,’ said Kame firmly. He bowed to Kuriisu. ‘You are our leader now, and you will carry on.’
166
The young man didn’t answer. Kame did not show his worry, but it seemed as though Kuriisu was drifting away, to some far island where their present troubles were nothing but an unpleasant memory.
Someone shouted, nearby.
‘What was that?’
said Kuriisu-san, looking
around.
‘Flying heads!’ cried a novice monk, running up.
‘Oh no,’ said Chris. He blinked, and suddenly his eyes seemed normal again, alert. Kame relaxed a little. ‘Again with the flying heads.’
Penelope’s eyes moved from Mr Cwej to the drone and back again. ‘What are they, precisely?’ she said.
Mr Cwej had picked up a heavy piece of firewood. He swung it at one of the Caxtarid’s drones as it shot past him with a rush of air. The machine stopped and hovered, just high enough to be out of his reach.
‘It’s kind of hard to explain,’ said Mr Cwej. ‘Do you have cameras in your era?’ He waved the tip of the stick, as though daring the staring drone to descend on him. ‘The Caxtarid can see through its eyes.’
Penelope glanced over at the pod. The Kapteynians were watching the flock of heads warily. Now and again one of the little machines tried to get a better look at the pod, and a Kapteynian would brandish its laser rifle, frightening the machine away. Penelope wondered if the drones were controlled by the Caxtarid, or if they somehow operated of their own volition.
‘Miss Gate,’ said Mr Cwej, ‘tell me something.’
‘What do you want to know?’ she said carefully.
‘Do the Kapteynians have translators? Like Joel