Previous Page
By Shawn Carman
Edited by Fred Wan
The notion that a watchtower could burn would have seemed ridiculous only a short time ago, and yet now Shinjo Aniji was looking at the aftermath. It had been a sizeable structure, more of a keep than a true watchtower, but there was precious little of it remaining. The massive pile of stones that marked where it had stood only a short time ago were still too hot to be touched, and the entire area was blanketed in a thick, acrid smoke that made it difficult to breath. There were several locations within the rubble where Aniji could see the remains of samurai that had not escaped, and he longed to put them to rest in a proper and respectful manner, but retrieving them would be impossible.
“We should tend to the dead,” Moto Taban said, mirroring his thoughts.
“We cannot,” Aniji said. “We cannot remain here long enough to do so.”
“Could we set fire to it again so that they would be cremated?”
Aniji shook his head. “What could we do to burn something like this? If the Army of Fire could not render it to ashes, what hope do we have? And we dare not try. If the Phoenix discovered something to indicate we were responsible for this, can you imagine how difficult it would make the Khan’s task? No, we must move on.”
The young Taban hung his head and nodded, clearly pained to have such a blasphemous specter hanging over them. He began to say something else, but then stopped and cocked his head to the side, as if listening.
Aniji tensed at once, accustomed to Taban’s keen senses. “What is it?” he asked in a low voice.
“A bowstring,” Taban answered. “Several bowstrings.”
“Blades ready,” Aniji ordered. “Be ready to ride low and fast.”
A Phoenix warrior emerged from the concealing bushes some distance away, his bow held ready at the hip. More followed, until there were nearly a dozen in all. “Who are you?” the first one, a gunso by his markings, demanded.
“I am Shinjo Aniji, a scout under the command of Shinjo Joyung,” he answered. “These are my men. Are you survivors from this attack?”
“We were stationed at the watchtower Kitamahari, yes,” the gunso answered. “We were on patrol at the time of the attack. We returned to late to do anything but pick off a few stragglers, and ensure that they burned in memory of our fallen comrades.” He glanced around at the assembled Unicorn. “What are you doing in the Phoenix provinces, Shinjo-san?”
Aniji smiled slightly. “Ever attentive to duty? I respect that. My men and I have been traveling the length of the Northern Wall Mountains, attempting to ascertain the size of the Army of Fire and its supports. We have been skirting along the northern border, dipping into the tribes’ lands for the purposes of scouting.”
“And what have you found?” the gunso asked.
“Our enemy is vast and deadly,” Aniji answered. “That is all I can answer at the moment. I am sorry.”
The Phoenix nodded. “I don’t suppose you have the proper travel papers.”
Aniji smiled again, broader this time. “No, I do not suppose we do.”
“Then we will need to accompany you,” the gunso said. “For your safety, and to ensure that you pose no threat to the Phoenix. Will you be heading across the border again soon?”
“We have reason to believe that there is a significant supply depot north of here, yes,” Aniji answered. “We must locate it.”
“And what will you do then?”
Aniji frowned. “Our orders are to observe and record, not engage. We are too few and could easily be eliminated, thus losing our gathered information.”
“I understand,” the gunso said. “Fortunate, then, that my men and I are under no such orders.” He gestured toward the north. “Please lead the way, Aniji-san.”
* * *
The northernmost regions of the Dragon Heart Plain were fairly desolate during most of the year. It was rare for anyone to venture into the remote region surrounding Shiro Morito without a specific reason for coming here. In fact, Morito Garin mused, there were likely many Ox samurai of his generation that had lived their entire life in the region without ever seeing an outsider. It was almost a ridiculous notion, given the state of the modern Empire, but then that was likely why his uncle had chosen the area to settle in the first place: it was perfect for keeping secrets.
The new Ox Clan Champion watched with anxiety as the largest military force he had ever personally seen marched north toward his family’s estate. He had no reason to be concerned, of course; these men and women were coming to aid in the castle’s defense. And yet, the last time any noticeable force of outsiders had arrived in the Ox lands, it had been to cause death and destruction on a massive scale. Nearly a third of his people had died in the alleged “bandit attacks” that had claimed the life of his uncle and predecessor, the legendary war hero Morito.
At least the bandits had extended the courtesy of removing their black and red armor and the Scorpion mon from their armor, Garin mused. It had prevented the rest of the Empire from descending upon the Ox provinces and burning them until nothing remained. For that, he knew that he should be grateful, and yet he could not find it within himself to think of the Scorpion in that manner. The heart of a Morito simply was not that forgiving, it seemed.
The seemingly endless ranks of warriors finally came to a stop, and a number of samurai on horseback moved ahead of the outriders to approach the castle gates. Garin steeled himself to try and ensure that his manner was appropriate for dealing with such august guests. As they came to a stop shortly before him and his armed guard, he bowed slightly. “Welcome to Shiro Morito, my friends,” he said. “We are greatly honored to have you among us.”
“Thank you,” one of the officers, a slightly built Lion woman, said. “I am Akodo Sarasa, commander of the Eighth Imperial Legion. These are my associates, Mirumoto Ishino of the Tenth Imperial Legion, and Shiba Danjuro of the Shogunate, as well as our respective command staffs.” She glanced around the castle once, quickly, as if assessing it. “We are here to ensure that your clan does not suffer the same losses as your neighbors.”
Mirumoto Ishino shifted uncomfortably in his seat at that, and Garin frowned slightly. “I am supremely grateful for this incredible show of support,” he said. “However, it is vastly more than I anticipated. Surely, if Ishino-sama so desired, we could afford for a third of your forces to move to reinforce the Dragon border?”
Sarasa’s expression was stern. “Ishino is an honorable man and a fit commander,” she said. “Surely you would not suggest that he abandon his orders for personal reasons?”
“Of course not,” Garin said. “I simply understand the need to defend one’s home.”
“It would matter little,” Ishino said. “All reports from the Dragon lands indicate that the Yobanjin strike and move quickly, fleeing any time that Lady Kei’s army draws closer. They fear the unleashed might of the Dragon, and they are right to do so. My forces in the area would contribute little, I fear.”
“We have a considerable number of men who will require some manner of lodging, Garin-sama,” Danjuro said. “May we assume that you have given some thought to provisions?”
“You may. I have designated as much housing as possible within the castle and the surrounding town, and my men have been setting up proper tents and such in the plain immediately east of the town for all that remain. That should be the direction least likely to be attacked, so your men should be free for engagement or flanking maneuvers or whatever you find most appropriate when the enemy comes.”
Danjuro bowed slightly from his position atop the horse. “I will take my men to the plains, then. Sarasa-sama, Ichino-sama, I will leave you to the provisions within the castle and town.”
The trio and their attendants watched as Danjuro signaled for his men and rode east. “Hmph,” Ichino said. “Does he fear being trapped in a siege, or does he want the glory of a flanking maneuver all to himself?”
“Shiba Danjuro fears nothing and has no desire for glory,” Sarasa said. “Garin-sama, if you would be kind enough?”
“Of course,” Garin said with a bow. “If you and your command staffs will accompany me, commanders, I will show you everything you require.”
* * *
“So far, a strangely unnamed village, one which I will point out appears on very few maps, and a watchtower have been lost in the Phoenix lands,” Ide Eien said, his tone reproving. “In fact, if reports are to be believed, it appears as though the purpose of this watchtower was to keep a watchful eye out for massing Yobanjin forces. I find the irony of this almost unbearable.”
“I find the implications of your statement disturbing, Ide-san,” Shiba Yoma answered in a perfectly calm, unwavering tone. “If you have a point you wish to make, perhaps you could be more direct. The lovely language of our allies the Crane is grossly ill-suited to a man of your character.”
The sound of multiple fans opening punctuated the brief pause before Eien replied. “The Phoenix know better than anyone what devastation the Yobanjin tribes can wreak when united,” he said, smiling ever so slightly. “And yet they seemed to have failed most spectacularly in safeguarding against their return. How many other clans will suffer for the failings of the Phoenix?”
Yoma remained outwardly calm despite his inner anger. “Would you indict the Dragon as well? Or do you find them unsuitable for criticism due to their ongoing losses? Perhaps your grotesquely inappropriate attempt at garnering attention serves more effectively with one target as opposed to several?” Yoma saw the Chancellor raise an eyebrow at his words, and knew that he might have overstepped his bounds, but he found it difficult to tolerate the sickening sycophant’s attempts to gain notoriety.
“I find your accusations lacking as well,” a smooth, familiar voice interjected. Yoma and others turned to see Yoritomo Sachina regarding Eien with obvious disdain. “Are you suggesting that the simple fact that the Phoenix have suffered at the hands of the Yobanjin in the past makes them responsible for the actions of the tribes?”
Eien frowned slightly. “No, merely that their knowledge of what could happen should have ensured that they took greater steps to prevent it happening again.”
“In that event,” Sachina said with a smile, “the Unicorn should be held accountable for any and all aggression that the Empire suffers from any gaijin. Are you or are you not more familiar with the lands beyond our borders than any other clan? The Yobanjin are merely one of many cultures you have faced in the past. And was it not you who introduced your clan’s learned scholar on the subject of the Yobanjin tribes? I believe that if knowledge is the most important factor in protecting us against them, then it is the Unicorn who have failed spectacularly, not the Phoenix.”
Eien smiled, but it was clearly forced. “Perhaps I was& hasty.”
“Perhaps,” Sachina agreed. She turned her smile upon the crowd. “I know that we are all angry about the circumstances of this attack. Perhaps like me you wish that you could do something, despite that we are so far away from the battles themselves. Perhaps you have lost family and friends already, and fear for the loss of more.” She shook her head sadly. “We cannot turn upon one another, my friends. How would that honor the memory of those who have fallen? How would it demonstrate our unity to the Divine Empress. No. We must live up to the example set by our friends among the Phoenix. Who has sent more healers and shugenja to aid in the war than the Phoenix? None of us have. We have all contributed, but the Phoenix have their own lands under threat, and still they are among those who give the most. No, we cannot question them. We must laud them for their actions, and answer them with our own.”
Polite applause sounded throughout the chamber as Yoma and Sachina bowed deeply to one another. It was, Yoma reflected, one of the more surreal moments in his many years at court.
* * *
The Army of Fire, or a considerable detachment thereof, arrived at dawn.
The number of enemies was roughly what the Shogun and Emerald Champion had estimated, or so the commanders assured Garin, and the force attached to Shiro Morito was sufficient to ensure that victory would be achieved. Strangely, Garin took very little reassurance from this, privately confident that at least Sarasa and Ichino, and possibly Danjuro but he was not sure on that count, were not particularly concerned whether or not the castle survived as long as the Army of Fire was defeated.
Akodo Sarasa surveyed the courtyard and the dizzying activity conducted within it with a calm, almost detached demeanor. Every time that Garin had seen the woman’s eyes, he got the impression that she was evaluating everything, carefully weighing options and tactics. It was enough to make him vow that his clan would never gain the enmity of the Lion. Even worse, however, was Ishino. When dawn came and the order to assume positions had been given, Sarasa, her command staff, and the archers attached to both her legion and Ishino. Ishino himself had led the remainder of the castle’s forces into battle, and the look on the man’s face when Sarasa had given him the order had been terrifying. Garin was reminded of the look on one of his uncle’s favorite hunting dogs whenever it was unleashed to hunt its prey. That dog had eventually been destroyed because in its madness it attacked anything in its path, including his master’s hunting attendants.
“Positions?” Sarasa shouted.
“Danjuro’s forces have been split into two,” one of her scouts called down from the tower, screaming at the top of his lungs to be heard over the din. “One half has attacked the enemy’s right flank, and the other has circled around to approach from the rear on the left side!”
“Excellent,” Sarasa said. “When the front lines begin to reorient to compensate for the shifting ranks, signal for another volley of archer fire!”
“What of my men, commander?” Garin asked.
“The status report I was given a few moments ago indicated they are in the heaviest portion of the fighting within the town’s perimeter,” she answered. “Door to door fighting is not what I have been led to believe is the Ox Clan’s favored tactic, Garin-sama. Are you certain you would not wish to have your men join Danjuro’s cavalry?”
“Integrating two forces at the last minute seems like a poor idea,” Garin said. “And while they might not be city fighters, they are defending their homes. I doubt any of your men could do so with more determination.”
“Point made,” Sarasa admitted. “We need to consider the.”
“Look out!” Garin shouted, and grabbed the much smaller woman to yank her out of the way. Only seconds later, an armored body struck the ground with such force that Garin felt it through the stones that made up the courtyard floor. A flaming arrow jutted from the Lion warrior’s helmet, and two colored metal fans remained clutched tightly in his hands.
“My signalman!” Sarasa hissed. She glanced around at once for someone to replace the man, but apparently did not find anyone suitable. She swore and grabbed the flags herself. “We need constant communication or we could lose control of the battle in an instant!”
“Sarasa, wait!” Garin shouted, but she disappeared into the tower’s base.
Hida Tobashi suspected that his appointment to his commander’s personal guard was more a means of keeping him out of the front lines than a result of any valor on his part. He could not honestly blame his superiors, in all honesty; were he in their position, he would not trust a man with a reputation such as his. There was something wrong with his bloodline, he was sure of it. His grandfather had gone mad serving on the Wall. It was not so uncommon, really, except that it did not appear that his grandfather had been corrupted. He had simply gone mad. Even then, it would have likely not been especially noteworthy, save that his father had suffered the same fate. That was when the others had begun to look at Tobashi and his brother with uncertainty. His brother had not returned from the Shadowlands during a disastrous scouting expedition wherein most of his squad had been slaughtered. He had never heard anything about his brother’s fate, but something about how the few survivors looked at him told Tobashi all he needed to know. Now, he could only wait for the same thing to happen to him. Perhaps that was why the Crab had sent him to the Legions. It would be a disgrace if he shamed his clan among the Legions, to be certain, but at least he would not cost Crab lives and possibly cause the Wall to be compromised.
“Tobashi!”
The Crab warrior looked up at once. “Yes, captain?”
Matsu Satsune unwavering gaze settled on her subordinate. “Where is Sarasa-sama?” Tobashi pointed to the top of the tower where his commander stood, waving the signals to her forces outside the castle, and Satsune’s expression darkened. “Why are you not at her side?”
“I attempted to join her, captain, but she ordered me back to the ground. She said that I was too large a target and would draw fire.”
Satsune frowned, but nodded, and turned to two other members of Sarasa’s command staff. The three of them began speaking quickly about matters of a tactical nature, most of which were more or less lost on Tobashi. As near as he could tell, however, Satsune was an expert on historical battles and traditional tactics, with something of an emphasis on the virtues of the direct frontal assault, while Mirumoto Sukuko was gifted in less conventional means of combat. Yoritomo Omura was well versed in tactics that most would consider questionable at best.
A shadow darkened the courtyard, and the din of battle seemed to recede. Tobashi looked up, as did many others, and felt his courage waver ever so slightly.
Something huge circled the castle, something enormous with tremendous wings that seemed to span the entire width of the courtyard. Several men shouted in alarm or surprise, but all in the courtyard stopped to look at it. “What is that?” Tobashi heard himself say.
“It is a wyrm,” Satsune said flatly. “The wyrm riders are here.”
The beast changed course suddenly and darted down, almost into the courtyard itself, then withdrew and disappeared outside the courtyard. In its wake, a much smaller shadow descended much faster. “Sarasa-sama!” Tobashi shouted.
The four samurai raced to where their commander struck the ground. Her armor had been torn open by a single glancing blow from the creature, and even if those injuries had not been mortal, the fall to the ground would certainly have killed her in and of itself. Impossibly, she remained alive, if only for a moment. “My sister,” she spat, blood staining her lips when she spoke. “She& she did not.”
“I know, commander,” Satsune said softly.
And she was gone. Tobashi had heard rumors of the commander’s sister, a woman who had died years ago and had been accused of terrible crimes. Her accuser had been a Unicorn, which whom the Lion were at war at the time of the accusations, and so while they had to be acknowledged because of the Unicorn’s position as an Imperial Legion Commander, they were largely discounted among the Lion. The accusation had driven the original Sarasa’s younger sister to take her name upon her gempukku and to push herself to excel in all things. So much so that she had become one of the youngest samurai ever appointed to the command of an Imperial Legion, although her appointment by a fellow Lion, Kitsu Dejiko, made it less impressive than one might imagine. That she had replaced her sister’s accuser gave the entire affair a degree of ridiculousness that Tobashi struggled not to think about. It did not matter now, however, because Sarasa was dead.
“Mourn later,” Satsune ordered. “How do we kill that thing?”
“Archery fire?” Sukuko suggested.
Omura shook his head. “No,” the Mantis insisted. “Did you see its size? And its hide? Arrows will never penetrate that unless you fire at point blank range. You would need to shoot the eyes, and at that height, the shot is impossible, even for a Tsuruchi.”
“A shugenja, then,” Sukuko said.
Now it was Satsune’s turn to shake her head. “No, the records of their appearances are quite clear. They are resistant to all forms of legitimate sorcery. That is why they were so difficult for the Phoenix to repulse when they appeared some centuries ago.”
“Steel?” Sukuko said, nearly laughing. “How do you propose we accomplish that?”
Satsune thought for a moment, trying to ignore the handful of men in the courtyard where were clearly panicking from the sight of the wyrm. “We must draw it in close,” she said. She looked at Tobashi, clearly weighing her options. “You must take to the tower,” she ordered. “You are the largest among us. It will see you as prey.”
“You are sending him to his death,” Sukuko observed.
“I know,” Satsune said. “And I regret the necessity of sacrificing even one man, but there is no choice. Do you understand, Tobashi?”
“I understand,” he said, strangely detached. “What will you do, captain?”
“If the wyrm can be brought down, I will require a new signalman, and then we will win this battle,” Satsune answered. “You can buy us victory, Tobashi. You can bring great glory and honor to your clan. Can you do it?”
Tobashi was curious to discover that he was not afraid of dying. He was only afraid of dying in a fit of insanity like his family. To die normally, like a warrior, performing his duty& he did not fear that. “I can, captain. I will. Lead them to victory. I will buy you the opening you need.”
Satsune bowed her head respectfully, a move that Tobashi found strangely touching. “I will make ready for the next maneuver,” she said. “Susuko, Omura, I will require your assistance.”
Tobashi was on the move, climbing the stairs to the top of the tower where Sarasa had been standing only moments before. He still did not feel fear, but there was something unusual, a stirring sensation deep in his soul that he had not experienced before, but felt was strangely familiar. He understood what it was. This was the madness that had claimed so many in his family. This was the reckless abandon and mindless disassociation that had been his one true fear his entire life. Now it was upon him, but he did not succumb. He held it at bay, drawing upon it. Hida Tobashi would not die a madman, but if his madness could allow him to die a hero, then he would gladly make use of it. It was only fitting that it lend him strength now, after it had taken so much from him.
Tobashi reached the top of the tower and tore his breastplate away. He would have no use for it now. He could hear Satsune shouting orders to the men below. She did not have the calm, detached leadership of Sarasa, but her battle fervor was infectious. She would lead the men to victory if he could but do this one small thing. It was not so great a task, in the grand scheme of things.
The wyrm had seen him. It began a long circle that would bring it around. He had seen much of predatory beasts during his lifetime, and he recognized the hunger in its movements even at this distance. There was no mistaking what it wanted. It would approach low like a hawk and snatch him in its jaws. He would likely feel nothing after the impact of its arrival. It would not be a bad death.
Tobashi readied his blade. The beast drew closer, ever closer, its speed unimaginable. It was almost upon him, and then he leapt atop the battlement, then sprang as high into the air as his legs could carry him.
For a man of his size, Tobashi possessed an unnatural athleticism that had surprised a great many people in his lifetime. It seemed that now he had surprised both the Yobanjin and the great beast upon which he rode. The beast’s massive head and gaping jaw passed beneath him, and Tobashi’s massive form impacted directly against the rider. The strength of the blow nearly made him lose consciousness, and drove the breath from his lungs, but he managed to remain atop the beast. The Yobanjin was not so fortunate, and his scream was short as he plummeted to the earth below. Tobashi recovered rapidly and plunged his wakizashi to the hilt in the beast’s back.
The wyrm went mad with pain, thrashing and rolling, roaring its inhuman scream across the battlefield. Tobashi tried to finish the job with his katana, but it was all he could do to hold on to the blade without falling to his death. Instead he clung tightly to the wakizashi handle and waited, hoping that the beast would dip lower. In its agony, it did, and as soon as he was close enough to the ground that he thought he might live, Tobashi reached up and drove his katana down into the wyrm’s skull with all the strength he could muster.
The wyrm screeched once briefly, and then went limp. Its body smashed against the edge of the wall and tottered over, tipping into the courtyard. Men scattered to avoid being crushed by its massive form, but Tobashi was protected from the worst of the impact by its bulk. He wrenched his blades free and struggled to stay on his feet despite that his head was swimming and his vision tinged with flashes of red and black. He stood atop the fallen beast for a moment, trying to regain his balance, and then realized that everyone in the courtyard was staring at him.
Matsu Satsune appeared to be on the brink of laughter, but she lifted her weapon and looked to the others. “All hail Hida Tobashi, Wyrm Rider!”
The shouts were deafening.
* * *
The news that Shiro Morito survived the attack by the Army of Fire, and that they turned away a sizeable force of attackers, spread through the Empress’ court like wildfire. One would have thought that the court was being convened in the midst of a major festival, from the celebrations that broke out. Even the normally stoic and resolute Togashi Satsu seemed relieved by the news, and word that the Empress had doubled the number of forces bound for the Dragon, Phoenix, and Unicorn lands was well received by all. The only blight upon the news had been the apparently poor reaction of the Lion Clan when word came that Akodo Sarasa, commander of Eighth Imperial Legion, had been killed in the fighting. Her replacement was named almost immediately by the Emerald Champion, and it was a Mantis subordinate named Yoritomo Omura, rather than one of Sarasa’s Lion officers.
Bayushi Paneki could respect that the Lion delegates were displeased, but they chose to remain quiet about the matter. Disrespecting the Emerald Champion in the court of the Empress would have been a disastrous mistake, and not even a former Deathseeker would be so foolish.
Of more interest to the Scorpion Champion was that one of his own vassals in attendance, Soshi Yukimi, had been chosen by the Empress to create new rituals for the festival that she was declaring in honor of the victory at Shiro Morito. It was just as well that the Scorpion were selected, because the area around Shiro Morito still had many secrets to conceal, and Paneki did not wish many of them exposed. The Ox would doubtless be displeased to see the Scorpion in the area, but so far Morito Garin had proven a man of his word. Paneki believed that he would keep the oath he had solicited from the Ox Champion.
Of even greater interest to Paneki was word that one of his vassals, Bayushi Iyona, had been in the area and had nearly been captured by the Phoenix after the destruction of their dirty little secret at Yobanjin Mura. So far as Paneki was aware, there was no reason at all whatsoever for a Scorpion to have been there, and Shosuro Toson had confirmed that no such orders had been issued.
That was a matter that Paneki wished very much to pursue, and now it seemed that he would have the chance.
Lyons Kotei
Military Winner: Reda Lounis
Political Winner: Angela DiTillio
Feeding Hills Kotei
Military Winner: Jon Green
Political Winner: Yanek Chareyre
