The March

The March
The hunt for the undead Scorpion Champion continues

By Brian Yoon

Edited by Fred Wan

The famous spires of the Yogo Towers loomed in the sky as Bayushi Keirei made his way through the throng of shugenja, students, and civilians that clogged the streets of the city. The function of the Yogo Towers was as the Yogo Shugenja School’s dojos, but it slowly changed over the years as the Towers grew in fame and importance. The location of the Towers was simultaneously close to the Lion lands and easy to defend from assaulting forces. It seemed many farmers and merchants had fled to the relative safety of the city surrounding the dojo, in hopes that the samurai would protect their best from the enemies that now marauded over their lands. He was unfamiliar with the location, but the directions had been clear and simple. The unexpected overcrowding was the only irritating complication.

The peasants and merchants filling the streets did not give Keirei a second glance as he effortlessly slid through the crowd. Briefly, he wondered if they were giving him wide berth because they were cowed by the recent events, or if they were well versed in the Scorpion tradition of secrecy. He had seen many things in this war that would cow any rational person. It was fortunate that he was more a weapon than a man, Keirei thought.

He left the flow of the crowd and disappeared into the back streets. The meeting place – a deserted tea house, long abandoned for its complete lack of flavor – was unworthy of any daimyo’s attention, yet Shosuro Toson was already there, waiting for his arrival. Toson’s face, covered entirely by the full mask, was turned away from the entrance. His straight-backed posture betrayed nothing of his emotions or thoughts.

Keirei entered the room, knelt, and bowed. “Toson-sama.”

“Do I have good news to report to Miyako-sama, Keirei?” Toson asked without turning.

“No,” Keirei answered bluntly. “In fact, my lord, I bring you more ill tidings.”

Toson only reacted to the news with a resigned nod and silently waited for more.

“My lord,” Keirei continued, “it walks the land unhindered despite my best efforts. After several attempts, one thing has become apparent. The creature exerts some sort of control over the other undead that still roam our provinces.”

“Impossible,” Toson quickly responded. “None of the other plague victims have ever shown any abilities of the sort.”

“That is what I believed but my eyes have seen the truth. I have chased the Disgrace and hunted its movements ever since I was given this assignment. It remains surrounded by an honor guard of the strongest in his horde.”

Toson whirled on him, fury radiating from his every movement. “Describe these things with that word again at your own peril,” he hissed.

Keirei hung his head. “A slip of the tongue, Toson-sama. Forgive me.”

“It could be a coincidence,” Toson said, his mood immediately chilly once more. “It is folly to believe these monsters are able to maintain human thoughts or motivations. They are driven by a baser desire than that.”

Keirei shook his head. “These creatures do not engage in the predations of the other zombies without securing the safety of the Disgrace. They stand guard when the Disgrace feeds. They specifically defend their master from my attacks, even when normal creatures would barely notice my presence. My lord, it is a larger mistake to dismiss a theory because it goes against tradition.”

Toson did not respond for one long moment. When he next spoke, his voice was dangerously soft. “You are quite bold for one who returns from a mission empty handed.”

“I am only a tool that extends your reach across the land,” Keirei answered. “A tool has no need to bandy courtesies with the hand that wields it.”

Toson made a short snort of amusement. “So be it. I suppose it could remain an extraordinary being even after its death. In your expert opinion, how extensive is his influence among the undead?”

“I cannot say. However, many zombies seem to flock to his position. I cannot say if it is doing these actions with a goal in mind, but the result is clear. The Disgrace is assembling an army around him.”

“Where were they headed?” Toson asked.

“As of five days ago, the horde was headed north east,” Keirei said. He frowned. “They seem to be moving toward the Crane, but their movements suggest it is not their true goal. I believe the army wishes to move toward the provinces of the Lion Clan.”

* * * * *

The path leading north was completely blocked by a row of horsemen, heavily armed and looking for a fight. Bayushi Himaru was not surprised. In fact, he had counted on the diligence of the Lion Wardens, warriors who patrolled their borders. He could speak to those who could possibly give him what he needed without appearing to seek them out. He slowed his horse and came to a halt twenty paces from the Lion, and his warriors followed suit.

“I appreciate that you are following the roads, Scorpion-san,” the Lion said curtly as the Scorpion drew close. “I almost believe you may have a reasonable reason to cross into our territory.”

“There’s no point in trying to find an opening along your border, Ikoma-san, for the reach of your Wardens is too great,” Himaru said. “I am Bayushi Himaru, student of the Saibankan Method. I come with no deceptions. I only desire passage into your lands – and a favor, if you are willing to listen.”

The compliment seemed to do little to improve the Lion’s dour mood – but to the Lion’s credit, he did not take umbrage or mock Himaru’s words. Himaru’s opinion of his company grew slightly, and he began to harbor hope that his plan would succeed.

“I am Ikoma Toruken,” the Lion replied grudgingly. “Son of Ikoma Jun and Ikoma Saiken, graduate of the Warden School. I do not bar your way, as long as you have the required papers. As for your favor, I can promise to listen but little else. Time is precious during war.”

“I have what you require,” Himaru said quickly. He slid off his horse and reached into his saddlebags for the scrolls that lay within. Some were orders and messages, but one held the seal of the Imperial Magistrates on its front. With the proper papers in hand Himaru crossed the small distance between the two contingents. Toruken dismounted and walked forward to meet him halfway, giving the two leaders a small measure of privacy.

“I appreciate your willingness to listen,” Himaru said.

Toruken unfurled the scroll and spoke without raising his gaze from its contents. “I would appreciate transparency, Himaru-san. Quickly.”

Himaru’s mind raced as he tried to distill everything he wanted to say down to its basics. He had always been a long-winded man, and cutting out the embellishments was difficult. The delicate nature of his request made complete honesty impossible. The mission Shosuro Toson had laid at his feet seemed difficult to accomplish during the best of times and impossible during this tense and trying time.

Warn them, the Shosuro daimyo had told him. They must not know our shame, but they must be ready to defend their lands.

As he stared into Toruken’s unrelenting gaze, Himaru knew he would need to tread lightly to convince the Lion of anything.

“The Lion is known across the Empire are a forthright clan, Toruken-san. Your reputation as a direct and honorable people is unshakeable.”

Toruken raised an eyebrow. “I hope that your favor does not include listening to empty flattery.”

“The scouts within your armies are renowned for their efficacy, but they are not accustomed to rooting out secrets in the shadows.”

“Our scouts,” Toruken said slowly, “are honorable men. There are limits to what an honorable man can do, no matter the circumstances.”

“We do not have such qualms,” Himaru said, smiling. Toruken did not mirror the gesture.

“Our scouts have determined that there is a great threat approaching your lands, Toruken-san. Unless you react with the appropriate defenses, the heart of the Lion lands will be at risk to destruction.”

Toruken crossed his arms across his chest. “It is a wonder that we have seen no sign of such a large threat. Something that is able to strike at our heart must leave a trace of some sort, but our scouts have uncovered nothing.”

“Only because they are not accustomed to standing in the shadows, as we are,” Himaru replied. “The fact that we were able to recognize it at all means that the Fortunes are with us. I know that relations between our clans have been shaky. We have had our disagreements in the past. However, we have no intention of watching by while our neighbors are ravaged by this threat. It will come from the southeast. You must move one or more of your armies to that border and ready your defenses.”

Finally, the taciturn Ikoma smiled widely. “I see. That sounds like a reasonable request.”

“Toruken-san–” Himaru began to say.

“Is this a jest, Himaru-san? Are you spinning a wild tale to draw suspicions away from something about your group of followers? I must say, it is the first time I have heard such exaggerations.”

“This is no joke, I assure you. The Shosuro daimyo–”

“The Shosuro daimyo is not here,” Toruken interrupted. “If the threat were as real as you say, he would have devoted more than an outlandish story told by a single messenger.”

Himaru reached into his sleeve and revealed a smaller scroll. Without a word, he rotated the paper until the personal seal of Shosuro Toson could be seen. Toruken’s smile faded from his face and he received the scroll. He looked up at Himaru.

“What do you want me to do?” Toruken demanded. “I do not have the authority to do what you ask for, even if I were inclined to do it.”

“Make sure that the paper and this request reach the right ears,” Himaru urged. “You must heed this warning if you wish to protect your lands.”

“What is coming from the southeast? The Crane will not take the field of battle against us at this time of war,” Toruken asked.

“I–” Himaru stammered. “I cannot say.”

Toruken tilted his head to the side and studied Himaru’s face. “What sort of threat can be dangerous enough to warrant such drastic measures, but so secretive you cannot tell us what it is?”

“All that matters, my friend, is that you are ready when it comes,” Himaru said.

“Try to think like an honor– like a Lion,” Toruken corrected himself quickly. Himaru pretended to have unheard the insult. “A Scorpion messenger comes to you and asks you to empty the defenses between the Lion and Scorpion lands. He cannot tell you the reason why, but insists that it is important to move the bulk of Lion defenses to an area that has been completely peaceful during wartime. What would you do?”

“I would recognize the sincerity in the messenger’s words,” Himaru answered, “and heed the friendly warning in the manner in which it was meant.”

Toruken looked away, frowning. When he faced the Scorpion again, his eyes seemed intense and earnest as they met Himaru’s gaze. “I wish I could believe you, Himaru-san, but I too have heard tales of Scorpions who can swim. Tell me what your spies have uncovered. Tell me the name of our enemy and I swear to you upon my grandfather’s sword that I will do everything I can to answer your counsel.”

Himaru could see his goal within his grasp. He could save thousands of lives and succeed in his mission if he could reveal the secret. It was a simple price to pay to frustrate the enemy and protect the home of the armies defending the southern lands from the Destroyers.

The name and secret of their Disgrace lay on the tip of his tongue. For the sake of those lives at risk, he wished he could voice the shame. It was ironic that loyalty – to his Clan, to the Bayushi, and to the memory of the man it once had been – held his tongue from what needed to be said.

* * * * *

Keirei frowned as he brushed one hand over the trampled footsteps left in the underbrush. He could not mistake the evidence in front of him, but the tracks pointed toward the impossible. Hundreds of lumbering footsteps clearly marked the trail of the undead army. The path seemed to lead directly into the most dangerous terrain of the mountain range. The land there was treacherous and unforgiving. The ground constantly slipped and cracked, plunging mountaineers past cliffs to their doom. Abrupt rain showers flooded the area without warning. It was a direct path to the Lion lands, but no one dared to make the journey. Even undead creatures knew instinctively to avoid it for fear of falling victim to nature itself.

Horror rose within his mind as the thought dawned on him. Zombies instinctively avoided the land, but what if a stronger will was forcing them to push past their nature? If an army did not need to worry about keeping the troops safe, it could enter the Lion lands within record time.

Keirei leapt to his feet and broke out at a full run toward the nearby village. The time for subtlety was over.

* * * * *

Toruken had begun the day with a clear head and resolve. The incident with Bayushi Himaru had changed everything.

For a brief moment he considered the possibility that the unknown threat was real. The testimony of a magistrate (and despite his insinuations, one who had never besmirched his name) was more than enough to convince most samurai of most matters. This decision, however, was too important to trust in a single man’s testimony. The letter from the Shosuro daimyo had done little to clarify things, as it had named no details.

In the end, the decision was not his to make. He allowed the Scorpion group passage into the Lion lands and stowed the letter to show his superiors at the end of his patrol.

Yet as the day continued, the conversation and warning reappeared in his mind. The Bayushi’s voice had been earnest, his eyes clear, and his plea convincing. He knew that the Scorpion preferred to strike when their victims were at their most vulnerable, and that the Scorpion would pay any price – even weakening those who fought alongside them – to achieve their plans. But would even the Scorpion do such things while the Empire was threatened? At one time, he would have absolutely said yes. Now

He could not in good faith recommend such a nebulous warning to his superiors. That did not mean he needed to stand idly by.

The Wardens raced across the Lion provinces throughout the day. The men did not utter one word of complaint, though they were traveling away from their assigned patrol and the horses were starting to tire. The men matched his pace and trusted that their leader knew what he was doing.

The moon hid behind a cloud of dark rain clouds and the terrain grew dark and dangerous. The wardens slowed their horses to a walk on reaction. Toruken glanced to his right. “Jin,” he whispered.

Akodo Jin urged his horse forward to stand next to his leader. “Yes, Toruken-sama,” he said.

“Are we drawing closer to the village?”

Jin looked at the surrounding terrain and nodded. “Yes, Toruken-sama. The village of Dewa lies just beyond this ridge.”

Toruken leaned forward and grasped the reins of his horse with both hands. “What can you tell me about this place?”

“Dewa lies at the foot of the mountains and is the southeastern settlement of our provinces,” Jin answered promptly. “It is a farming village of roughly five hundred able bodied men. The nearest garrison is one hour north of this location on horseback.” He did not voice the concern that must have gathered in his mind.

“Thank you,” Toruken said. He turned to face the rest of his group. “We will rest at Dewa for the night and gather our energy for the coming day. It will be another hard ride.” The group nodded or bowed in acknowledgement – all but one. Jin was looking south toward the village.

“There’s something wrong,” Jin said abruptly. “It sounds like–”

Then the sound reached Toruken’s ears and the rush of energy hit him as well. They spurred their horses, and rode their tired horses toward the top of the crest. At the top of the hill they slowed their mounts and tried to see what could be making that noise. They could not see much out of the norm. Specks of fire seemed to dance throughout the streets, as if the villagers were moving torches from side to side.

The clouds cleared and the moon appeared once more, bathing the village in an ethereal glow. The sight seemed to stop his heart. A wave of monsters poured out of the nearby mountain. The undead rushed forward, their jaws unnaturally wide with their devouring hunger. Through it all, the villagers were true Lions. The villagers met the insane charge with farming tools, large sticks, tonfa, and anything else they could find. They stood no chance.

Something strange caught Toruken’s eye as he watched the rampant destruction. One of the zombies at the front of the procession seemed different. The black and red remains of clothing hung about it. It seemed to move with purpose and direction, rather than the mindless instincts of its peers. And it seemed angry. It lunged forward and struck the man in the lead. Its arm plunged deep into the villager’s chest, and it pulled out a mass of pulpy flesh while the man screamed.

Suddenly it stopped moving and lowered its arms. The rest of its horde pushed around him with an unearthly wail. The special creature studied the blood slowly dripping down its arm. Then it looked up, and its gaze met Toruken’s.

“Bishamon damn them! Damn them all!” Toruken snarled. He placed a hand on his sword and slammed the sword back into its scabbard.

“If we charge them from the west, where our approach will be covered by the houses–” Jin began to say.

“No,” Toruken replied. The words tasted like ash in his mouth. “We number less than twenty. We can do nothing to change the fate of those villages and we must get word to our armies. Retreat. Let us hope our ashigaru slow their advance enough to set up our defenses.”