by Ryan Kirk
In the histories she’d studied, wars often lasted for cycles. But this one would be over within a season. It had to be, or they were all doomed.
Takahiro looked up from reading the letter a second time to see that his lady suffered. “Mari, what’s wrong?”
She fought to keep the distress from her voice. “Do you think I should surrender?”
Takahiro looked taken aback. “You can’t surrender because you’ve lost one battle!”
“No.” If anyone else saw the larger truth, it was Takahiro. “It’s not about losing in the south. It’s about all the challenges we face. If I am a responsible ruler, I need to ask the question: are my house lands better off if I surrender?”
A lesser adviser would have spouted empty platitudes, but not Takahiro. He stood there, letter in hand, asking himself the same question Mari didn’t trust herself to answer.
“No,” he finally said. “If you step down, Yoshinori would almost certainly take power. You know the way he’d treat your people, especially if Katashi demanded concessions from him. Anyone who isn’t a noble would suffer. You are the land’s best hope.”
Mari took comfort in the words, but hated the burden Takahiro laid on her. There would be no rest from her duty so long as he remained her adviser. She appreciated that in him.
She didn’t even realize she was crying until a few heartbeats after it began. Takahiro stepped forward and wiped the tears from her face, then stopped. The two of them rarely touched, but at that moment, Mari welcomed the gesture.
An awkward silence began, but Mari cut it off before it could settle between them. “Thank you.”
She took a few moments to gather herself. “So, if surrender isn’t an option, and victory is necessary, what actions are left to us?”
Other advisers might have considered the question rhetorical, but not Takahiro. He looked thoughtful. “Perhaps there are other ways of winning this war.”
She watched him as the gleam formed in his eye. As he explained his idea to her, she quickly found herself nodding along. The ideas were unconventional, and she wouldn’t have expected them from a man as honorable as Takahiro. Slowly, hope began to live again in her, like a young plant just breaking through the hard soil.
Time. Being back in Stonekeep, being back in the house she’d grown up in, was making Mari reflect on her past. As a child, she’d always wished the days would go faster so that she could become an adult and do as she pleased. Now, time was a merciless enemy, marching relentlessly against her.
Takahiro’s ideas could work, but they would need time, and time was a precious and fleeting resource. She hated having to reach out for support, but she saw no other way around it.
Part of her wished Takahiro could be here for this meeting. His presence would have reassured her. But he was needed elsewhere, drafting the orders that would go to the generals. The birds needed to fly today, and everything had to be in place.
A servant knocked and announced that her guest had arrived. He was earlier than expected, a sign he took the request to meet with appropriate significance. Mari looked around the room one last time at the minute details set in place, either for her guest to notice, or to create an atmosphere that would encourage the conversation she sought. She nodded at the servant and went back to working at her desk.
Arata entered a few moments later. Mari saw him take in the scene, saw the hint of satisfaction in the lines of his face. Arata radiated nobility. Mari figured the effect was some combination of his age and calm demeanor, but his presence alone made her want to be a better ruler. The noble offered a deep bow. “My lady.”
Mari returned the bow. “Thank you for coming on such short notice. How are you?”
Arata gave a grim chuckle as he approached her desk, covered with maps. “You may skip the formalities. When you get to be my age, and your return to the Great Cycle seems more imminent with every passing moment, you learn that, sometimes, brevity is wisdom.”
“I agree. Tea?”
He waved the offer away as he studied the maps. His eyes and mind, despite his age, were sharp. After only a moment he looked up. “We’re losing, then.”
Mari almost argued against the assessment, but decided to save her breath. “That is why I asked you here.”
He gave her a curious look.
Mari cleared off some of her papers, so the map and the units on it could be seen more clearly. “We’re heavily outnumbered, and while General Fumio managed to drive Lord Katashi back, the victory cost us dearly. In the south, General Masaaki was forced to retreat rather than be routed.”
She assumed Arata had gathered as much from his glance at the map, but she wanted to ensure he knew what she knew. When he didn’t respond, she continued. “I am going to order our forces to retreat to the foothills of the mountains. Fighting a war on two fronts, out in the plains of our territory, will destroy us.”
Arata frowned. “Many nobles won’t like such a plan. Many of your strongest supporters have lands in the plains.”
“Which is why I need you. The other nobles look up to you, and know that you won’t support me without cause. If we don’t retreat, we’re doomed. But without your voice supporting me, I’m not sure I can keep us together long enough to win this fight.”
Arata looked thoughtful. “And how do you plan on winning this fight?”
Mari pointed at a few points on the map. “In the west, we’re going to modify the strategy that I used as the Lady in White. Groups of nightblades will attack supply convoys and possibly return them to us. We’ll starve Lord Katashi’s armies.” There was more, another part of the plan, but one she wouldn’t share here.
“And in the south?”
“I still need to speak with Hajimi, but I am sure that he will bolster our forces there, holding Lord Isamu at bay. Once Lord Isamu’s men approach the mountains, they’ll be nearly useless against our troops. We only need to hold them long enough for Lord Katashi to break. I’m certain Lord Isamu will follow close behind.”
Arata studied the maps again. “It could work, and I don’t see many other options at the moment. I do fear we rely too much on the blades, though.”
Mari had expected this complaint. She’d heard it often enough in her short rule. “Their purpose is to maintain the peace of the Kingdom. They protect us on our home land against the invading houses. They are fulfilling their duties. And,” she lowered her voice, “I’d much rather lose blades than soldiers of House Kita.”
Arata’s eyes came up to meet hers. Mari didn’t say any more. She had to deal with enough rumors of her affection for the blades. Let Arata think he understood a different truth.
Arata stood up straight, and Mari knew she’d won him over. “Lady Mari, perhaps it is forward of me to say, but I am honored to support you. Did you know at one time, I considered trying to take the house from your father?”
Mari stiffened, wondering where Arata was going. In her mind, Arata had always been faithful to their house. “No, I didn’t.”
“It was during a rough year, with many crops failing, and your father had hard choices to make. I was younger then and couldn’t see the entire problem. I thought only of my own lands and their well-being.” He paused, lost in the past. “Your father discovered my plans and invited me to tea. I thought I walked to my death that day. But then we talked about the problem facing the whole land, and how he had to make these decisions. In many ways, our meeting today reminds me of that day. I left then knowing I served an honorable man, and I leave today knowing I serve an honorable lady. You will have my vocal support on the closed council.”
The comment both warmed Mari’s heart and stabbed her at the same time. She served her house on behalf of the people, but the ghosts of her ancestors, all well-respected rulers, stood ever over her shoulders. She hoped Arata never had to learn the lengths she would have to go to protect and lead her people.
That night, Mari made her way to where Asa trained the new recruits. Mari didn’t pay as much attenti
on to her guards as she should. She knew that much. Her own father had known each of his guards by name, as well as what was important to each. Mari had plenty of memories of her father laughing alongside his guards, or supporting them in their times of need.
Mari always meant to strike up conversations with those who risked their lives to protect hers. As her father had made abundantly clear, a guard who views you favorably will protect you that much more fervently. But a dozen other tasks always demanded her time, and she’d never made the effort.
Despite that, though, she did know that Asa’s training seemed to be working. There were more women in her guard now, protecting her as she changed, or when she took a bath. Occasionally, they were rotated in for other duties as well.
When she stepped into the training hall, she realized that she hadn’t actually been here since she’d returned to Stonekeep. As a girl, she hadn’t been allowed into the training hall, and it simply hadn’t been something she’d thought about since her return. As a child, she’d wanted nothing more than to be here, and now that she had the option, she chose not to take it. Perhaps it was time to reform that practice.
Mari saw that Asa noticed her immediately as she entered, but the nightblade didn’t give her any particular recognition. She had work to do, and she went about it without interruption.
Not for the first time, Mari thought that in different circumstances, she and Asa could have been friends. Mari respected the way the nightblade went about her duties, and even though it was clear Asa had little patience for politics, the woman always kept her word. Mari felt safe so long as the blade was near.
Though she had more important tasks, she decided to wait and watch the training for a few moments. Asa had the women working partner drills. The blade walked up and down the line of trainees, fixing mistakes that she saw and sending them through endless repetitions. Mari felt as though she’d stepped back in time, and her father was training some of his personal guard. Her father had been an impressive swordsman as well.
One woman stood out from the group. Even Mari’s untrained eye could see she was a cut above the rest. Her sword was always a step ahead, and in the short time Mari observed, she easily won each of her matches.
Eventually, Asa called for the group to halt and take a break. When they did, Mari got a better look at the woman dominating her peers. She was less a woman and more a girl. Mari guessed the young warrior hadn’t seen more than seventeen cycles.
Asa came over to Mari as the potential guards stretched and drank water. The warrior that stood out from the group didn’t join the rest, continuing to practice her forms. She used the sword like she’d been born with it in her hands.
Asa gave a barely perceptible bow. “My lady.”
Mari gestured toward the lone woman. “Who is she?”
“Her name is Suzo. You noticed her skill?”
“Yes. Who is she?” Mari wondered if she was the daughter of some noble house, having received training somewhere else before.
“No one of note. Her mother died a few cycles ago in childbirth. Her father is a farmer, but wasn’t able to feed her. He was considering selling her to one of the brothels, but then she heard of the training here. She displays unusual aptitude for the sword. If I didn’t know better myself, I’d think that she had the gift, but she does not. She’s simply talented.”
Mari’s heart went out to the girl. But her story confirmed Mari’s own plans. Under her rule, everyone would have opportunities. She would make sure of it.
Mari turned her attention from Suzo to Asa. “I came to ask you a question.”
“I assumed as much.”
“It’s about Koji.”
Mari saw a flash of emotion cross Asa’s face, but it was gone so quickly as to almost be unnoticed. Mari knew the two had fought, but wasn’t interested in their personal problems. The needs of her lands were greater. “I am considering giving him an order that he might find detestable. If I do, will he follow it?”
Asa’s answer was immediate and bitter. “I imagine he’d do almost anything for you.”
Mari had suspected that was the case, but the confirmation reassured her. She gave Asa a short bow and then turned to leave.
Asa wouldn’t let her leave so easily. “He’s one of the most honorable men I’ve ever met. You’d take that from him?”
Mari didn’t have any response to that. She continued out the door without answering, heading toward her chambers, where she would write the orders that would hopefully bring an end to the war plaguing the Kingdom.
10
Asa had never much liked beer before. She’d imbibed on several occasions, but she couldn’t drink much without feeling the effects, and she preferred to have her head clear.
These days, though, it tasted better than ever. In addition, being in the common room of the inn allowed her to be surrounded by people. She could watch and forget the responsibilities that weighed on her for a time.
She understood more about herself now than she had before. Asa didn’t like the world as it was. She detested the political maneuvering that defined so much of Mari’s life. She hated that the three lords of the Kingdom fought over the right to rule. But most of all, she hated that she wasn’t out on one of the expeditions, trying to find a new place for the blades to live. Koji’s arguments still held true, of course. By ensuring Mari’s safety, she gave the blades time to decide their next steps. But it didn’t feel like she was doing much. Guarding Mari, watching as she wrote letter after letter, made her feel useless.
So she drank in the evenings and watched. Depending on her mood, she found the behavior of the other patrons either fascinating or despicable. Tonight she found the drunken antics to be more the latter than the former.
A man, completely unremarkable, came and stood next to her. Every once in a while, one would try to engage her in conversation. Usually, a stare was enough to get them to leave, but this one looked as though he’d be persistent. He had a hint of a smile on his face, as though he knew a joke about life that no one else knew. “May I join you?”
“No.” Asa had found that being rude hastened the exchanges.
The smile never left his face. “Rough day?”
“Sure.”
For a moment, Asa worried the man was going to keep trying, but she didn’t have to fear. He gave her a short bow, that half-smile still present. “Well, perhaps I’ll see you again soon, then. Under better conditions.”
The man melted into the background, and Asa wondered if she’d maybe had too much to drink. She lost sight of him almost instantly, as though he’d never been there. She considered quitting, but the night was young, and her head was still too full of thoughts. Raising her hand, Asa ordered another round. Thankfully, being the head of Mari’s guard paid well.
After Asa had nursed her next beer for a time, another shadow passed over her. Asa was about to growl at the stranger, but when she saw who it was, she stopped. Suzo stood there, looking out of place and awkward. “May I sit?”
Asa worried about one of her guards drinking with her, but then stopped herself. Why should she care? She hadn’t wanted the position anyway. And she liked Suzo, for as little as she knew about the trainee. She motioned for the girl to sit.
The girl sat down and ordered a drink, looking uncomfortable all the while. She looked like someone who’d never been to an inn in her life. Perhaps, Asa thought, she hadn’t. The girl said she had only left her farming community a handful of times before coming to train.
Asa didn’t mean to make the girl more uncomfortable, but she had no desire for conversation at the moment. She sat there, waiting for Suzo to speak her mind.
“So, do you come here often?”
“Often enough that you knew to find me here.”
The girl looked down, as though ashamed that Asa had realized this meeting wasn’t coincidence. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t know when else I could speak to you alone. During training, there are always other people around.” The girl�
�s voice was tense, more anxiety in it than Asa could remember hearing before.
Asa kept silent, waiting to hear the reason Suzo had come.
“I don’t want to speak out against the other trainees, but I’m worried about them.”
“Why?”
Suzo fumbled around. “Well, as you know, people have some different feelings about what we’re doing.”
Asa had heard as much. Some people thought the female guards were wonderful, or fascinating. Though they didn’t speak to her directly about it, Asa heard enough to know several men were interested in the new guards. Women who fought were… exotic, Asa supposed, to the average man here. Others derided the women as foolish, attempting to do something that was the right and responsibility of men.
“Some of the women have men who are interested in them, but I’m nervous.”
Asa got tired of Suzo dancing around the questions. “Say what you mean.”
“I think some of the men might be interested in the women only to learn what the guard rotations are like.”
That was news. Asa felt herself responding slowly, but she did respond. “What makes you say that?”
“Well, the other women listen to instructions, and they don’t say anything directly, I don’t think. But they plan out their meetings with the men days in advance, and most of the women have suitors right now. It just occurred to me that if someone was planning something, they could piece together the rotation if they wanted to.”
Asa leaned back. All the women in the selection process were single. It had been required, as Asa had wanted women who could commit fully to the process of learning the sword. And if almost all the women had found interested men in such a short time…. Her thoughts trailed off. She’d never thought of it, but something certainly seemed worth investigating.
