Nightblade's End

by Ryan Kirk

  Beyond that, she still hadn’t seen Asa. The last time she’d seen the nightblade had been the day before Isamu’s arrival. Everything had seemed normal then. But Mari knew Asa detested her role as head of Mari’s guards. Had the woman finally decided to leave? Mari considered the idea to be out of character for Asa, although knowing the nightblade hated her position kept that seed of doubt alive.

  But right now, she couldn’t worry about Asa. Her guards functioned well even in Asa’s absence, so the nightblade was a problem for when Isamu left. Still, Mari’s mind kept returning to the problem she couldn’t solve.

  Finally, it was time for the feast to begin. Mari took a few deep breaths before leaving her small office and walking toward the chambers.

  When she arrived, Isamu and his key advisers were already in place. The wine cups stood full, with attentive staff ready to refill any empty cup. Mari had spared no expense to throw this feast. Like every part of this visit, the feast was a piece of theater. She showed Isamu that her people were still happy and well fed, and the feast accomplished both tasks without her having to say a single word. She shuddered at the cost and the better uses the food could be put toward, but she told herself that she could save more lives than if she spread the food around.

  Mari herself was dressed in decadent blue robes that she had argued against for days. She had wanted to present herself as a serious ruler, dressed in somber clothing. Eventually she had acquiesced to Takahiro’s arguments. The wealth of the house needed to be on display, no matter how uncomfortable she found the robes or the message they sent.

  Mari didn’t know how influenced Isamu would be by any of her preparations. He was a veteran of the political battles that had raged since she was a child, but she suspected he underestimated her. Men always seemed to.

  Her attention was focused entirely on the scene before her. Several of her own nobles were present, of course. Yoshinori and Arata stood on opposite sides of the room, like two separate pillars. Mari noted who talked to whom, and what the various expressions around the room gave away. No detail was too small.

  She felt a sudden pang of sorrow as memory washed over her. This was the first official reception in the halls of Stonekeep for over a cycle, and it brought back memories of receptions much like it that she had suffered through as a younger woman. Back then, Juro or Hiromi had always been there to keep her company. They would never do so again.

  When she found Takahiro in the crowd, she made straight for him. She felt her shoulders relax as she neared. He looked as though he was the only one present more uncomfortable than her.

  Most of the guests looked relaxed, like they belonged. Takahiro looked as though he was heading into battle. She was sure he didn’t realize what he was doing, but he tugged at the robes of his dress uniform as though they didn’t quite fit him.

  “Didn’t you have to attend these growing up?” she asked him.

  He glanced at her. “Occasionally. Typically, my behavior was so poor my parents made excuses for me and left me at home. It made both of us happier. When I renounced my claim to the family lands, I was no longer invited.”

  Mari nodded. “Sorry to ruin that.”

  Takahiro chuckled softly, barely loud enough for her to hear. “We all must make sacrifices for our duty,” he said.

  They conversed for a bit before separating. After spending even a few moments with him, Mari felt refreshed, more ready to tackle the problem of Lord Isamu. It was just as well, as there was suddenly no end to the stream of people who wanted to speak to her.

  The feast went longer than Mari had anticipated. By the time it finished, the sun was well on its way toward settling over the peaks behind Stonekeep.

  Mari and a handful of her advisers retired to a small room with Isamu and his entourage. As they sat down, there was a knock at the door, and Takahiro allowed a messenger to enter. The messenger handed a short, sealed note to Takahiro, and Mari’s heart started to race. She’d been waiting for this note. She stood up and he handed it to her.

  She opened the missive with trembling fingers, wondering if a note had ever held a message of such import. The message was longer than it needed to be, General Masaaki verbose as always, but Mari breathed a sigh of relief.

  Good news in hand, Mari sat back down at the negotiating table, feeling the first semblance of control. Some pleasantries passed back and forth, but thanks to the feast, they were blissfully short for a meeting of this importance.

  Mari, as host, turned the discussion to the matter at hand. “Lord Isamu, I’ve invited you here today to discuss the terms of a peace treaty between your house and my own.”

  Isamu was a seasoned politician, but Mari’s sharp eyes still saw the quick flicker of surprise. He really had thought she was going to surrender.

  “Lady Mari,” he replied, recovering quickly, “I’m honored to discuss such terms with you. What proposals do you suggest?”

  With the note in hand, she opened with bold moves. “First, all your invading units must retreat back to your house lands. Once the retreat is complete, I propose a greater amount of trade between our houses. We have a surplus of gold and iron, and while we have enough food to survive the year, I desire more to build our reserves. Finally, I will support your bid for the throne of our Kingdom. I believe you are best suited to guide us in this time.”

  She wasn’t sure of that at all. Isamu was a talented administrator and a political survivor. But he didn’t often make the hard choices that would be all too common for the next king. Regardless, he was a far better choice than Katashi in her mind, and she didn’t think the Kingdom would accept her. Her own house barely did.

  This time, Isamu couldn’t hide his shock. He certainly hadn’t been expecting such aggressive opening terms. In Mari’s mind, the offer was as tempting as she could make it. Anything less wasn’t good enough for her people. But would it be enough? When Isamu answered quickly, Mari’s heart sank.

  “Lady Mari, I respect the courage that it must have required to come before me today and make this proposal. But you know as well as I that you and your house have very little bargaining power. You are outnumbered and on the retreat. Why should I retreat when victory is at hand? I am happy and more than willing to discuss the terms of your surrender, but make no mistake: that is why I’m here. The Kingdom’s peace comes through your abdication.”

  Mari wasn’t surprised Isamu felt that way. She’d hoped, maybe, that this might be resolved peacefully, but it had always been a long shot. She could take her next steps confidently, though.

  After a brief pause, Isamu launched directly into his demands for her surrender. “Each of your generals will be brought forth for a trial regarding their conduct. I would suggest you also be brought to trial for your role in this war, but as a distraught young woman, you cannot be held responsible. Out of deference to your brother and father, I would not see you suffer so. Rather, it would be best if there was a stronger, more reasonable ruler for these lands. Lord Katashi and I would be pleased to find you a suitable suitor, someone worthy of the role of lord. If you refuse this opportunity, I will be forced to insist that you also turn yourself in to face trial. Your lands will be split between the two remaining houses, and you will acknowledge Lord Katashi as the rightful king of the Kingdom.”

  Mari couldn’t help but be surprised by the extent of the demands. She had expected House Kita to go to someone like Yoshinori. She’d never guessed they’d destroy it completely if she didn’t cooperate.

  “You see no chance for a more equitable arrangement?”

  Isamu’s voice was cold. “If you resist, your house will be destroyed, and any noble who does not swear fealty to Lord Katashi will be killed. Your forces will be routed.”

  Mari finally let out a hint of a grin. “You mean, of course, by the heavy cavalry you’re trying to sneak through my western pass?”

  Isamu’s face froze in surprise.

  “They’ve been defeated by a large force of nightblades. My armies w
ill continue to retreat in an orderly manner, and your advance is about to become much more bloody.” She passed him the missive and gave him a moment to read it. “No doubt, you will receive word yourself in a few days when they fail to report.”

  The other lord read the message quickly, his face hardening with every passing moment. In terms of numbers, the force Hajimi and his blades had killed hadn’t been that large, but they had been trying to flank General Fumio, who would have been caught between Isamu’s heavy cavalry behind him and Katashi’s well-trained forces in front. Even with the blades, Fumio wouldn’t have had a chance. The war would have been over in a fortnight or less.

  Now, there was no end in sight, and once Mari’s forces were embedded in the mountains of their land, the price for every league of land was going to become much steeper. Isamu knew it.

  “Lord Isamu,” she said. “My house will not fall. You still have one chance to prevent more bloodshed.”

  Mari wasn’t sure what the lord would do, but his reaction shocked her. He stood up, slammed his fists against the table, and stormed out without another word. She had never seen anything like it from a lord. He looked like a young boy whose play sword had been taken from him.

  For the moment, she decided not to press the matter. Hopefully, when he was calmer, they could resume discussions. She didn’t hold out hope, but any chance was better than none. And though her house could resist, she still didn’t see the path to victory. She retired to her rooms, but before she could relax there was a knock at her door. There were only a few reasons why she’d be disturbed now, and none of them were pleasant.

  As she expected, it was Takahiro. His voice was grave. “Lord Isamu is here to see you.”

  “Let him in.” If he’d been interested in peace talks, they would have met more formally. This only meant that he was planning on letting his displeasure be known personally.

  She wasn’t surprised, then, when he came tearing into her office. “Your father would be ashamed.”

  His face was dark red, and Mari wondered for a moment if he meant to attack her right there, inside her own office. But then her own anger rose against him. “Nonsense. My father was an honorable man, and he would’ve wanted me to do everything in my power to keep my people safe. Katashi is not fit to be their king.”

  Isamu’s rage was only stoked further by her defiance. “You continue to hide behind the blades, having them save your lands time and time again. But there is no place left for them here.” He enunciated each word sharply, each a verbal sword hacking at her shields. “They will all die, and your house will wither and collapse because you didn’t have the sense or the honor to act in a way befitting a lord of this realm.”

  Before she could muster a reply, he turned on his heel and stormed out the door, leaving her alone with her failure.

  That night, a summer storm worked its way from the valley below to the mountains surrounding Stonekeep. Lightning cracked against the dark sky, and thunder boomed against the stone that surrounded Mari’s home. Already unable to sleep, Mari finally gave up and dressed.

  Possessing only a vague purpose, Mari made her way to Juro’s shrine. In life, she’d leaned on her brother more times than she could count, his warrior’s ethos a solid support in all her troubles. Those troubles seemed nearly meaningless compared to the challenges she currently faced. But perhaps Juro’s spirit could still offer her some guidance.

  She made her way through her city with her head bowed, lost in thought, escorted by her usual complement of guards. Asa still hadn’t made an appearance, and Mari was becoming increasingly certain the nightblade had broken her word. Why else would she go missing for days?

  The rain drove most citizens into the warm shelter of their homes, leaving only a few brave and hardy souls to bear the brunt of the storm. One of Mari’s guards managed an umbrella over her head, fighting a losing battle against the rain. Mari continued on, heedless of the water soaking her clothes or splashing over her feet. She wasn’t one to get cold easily, and the wet didn’t bother her.

  When she stopped, she stood directly in front of the shrine. Her first disjointed thought was that the shrine was too small. What her family really deserved was a large monument, a work of stone that would inspire awe in all who saw it. She wanted to leave something that would last beyond her life and her reign, both of which looked to be growing shorter by the day.

  She shook her head to clear her thoughts and gave herself a small, sad smile. None of her family had ever been interested in the legacy that came with ruling. She suspected it was due to the influence of their father, a man who viewed their position as a responsibility and a duty. They’d been raised to believe the same, and that foundational belief continued to support Mari.

  She stared at the shrine, her mind almost completely blank. The man she’d hired as the architect for the project had had the good sense to protect the shrine from the elements, and as the rain soaked through all of her clothes, the only thought that occupied Mari’s mind was that she was grateful that the relics of her family remained dry.

  A sudden wave of sorrow crashed over her, unexpected in its ferocity. She lost control of her legs and dropped down to her knees, her guard unable to move the umbrella quickly enough to protect her against the storm. Her tears mixed with the rain, and Mari was grateful that anyone walking by wouldn’t see the extent of her distress.

  As though her thoughts had summoned him, Takahiro suddenly appeared at her side. For once, he didn’t look prepared. He looked like a man who had just been woken from a deep slumber.

  He didn’t speak, but dropped down next to her, his support silent and unwavering. He reached out and took the umbrella from the guard, who looked grateful not to have that duty any longer.

  “Thank you,” he said. “You may stand guard. I’ll do my best to keep Lady Mari dry.” He nodded toward the stone archway behind them, the only entrance to the shrine, which also gave some small protection from the storm. The other guards huddled beneath it. The guard nodded her appreciation and left to join the others.

  Mari was grateful that he didn’t ask her any questions. He simply knelt by her, protecting her from the elements and sharing in her grief. He remained as silent as the ghosts of her ancestors, and at that moment, she’d never been more thankful for the presence of a single person.

  “Do you think they would be proud?” she asked. “Or would they be as ashamed as everyone seems to think they would be?”

  A lesser friend would have consoled her, told her that of course they would be proud. Not Takahiro, though. “I do not know. I think Juro would’ve been proud. He always liked you best when you were antagonizing your father and pushing against the expectations of others.”

  Memories of childhood brought a thin smile to her face. “Juro would think that I’m foolish for grieving at his shrine in this way.”

  “Yes, he would.”

  Mari couldn’t help herself. She laughed, loud and long, sorrow and absurdity blending into one. Takahiro didn’t join her, but he had a slight grin, which was as much as she ever saw from him these days.

  “I don’t think I can put the Kingdom back together,” she admitted.

  “I don’t know if people expect you to,” Takahiro replied.

  “They do,” she said as she stood up. “People hate change. They want life to be the way that it was, even when returning to the past is clearly impossible. That is what my people want from me. No matter what I do, I cannot give that to them.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  Mari stood up. Something inside her had shifted, some last fading concern over what others expected sliding away. Even though the sky was overcast and the rain was pounding against the umbrella, she felt almost like a child on a summer day with the sun burning her skin.

  “I can’t bring back the past, but I can predict the future. Our people need to be safe.” Her voice trailed off, as something Takahiro had said came back to her.

  A seed of an idea spr
outed in her mind, soon taking all her attention. Perhaps it could work. She tried building arguments against it, not even willing to speak of it until she was certain it wasn’t foolish.

  She knew it could work. She remembered her father once saying that the best compromise was one in which every party thought they’d been wronged. That was the mark of a true middle ground. Mari’s idea certainly qualified.

  The other lords would have to think there was no reasonable chance of ending the war. The cost of continuing the war had to be greater than the costs associated with agreeing to Mari’s idea. Her mind started to race.

  She needed to talk to Lord Isamu in the morning. After their disagreement today, it might prove challenging, but he was here, and she had to take the opportunity. Now, more than ever, he had to see what the war would cost to maintain. Together, they could bring the proposal to Katashi.

  She was just about to tell Takahiro her proposal when a messenger ran up to the gate. He handed his note to a guard, who rushed to bring it to Mari. Takahiro took the note and flipped it over. Mari saw the black seal, indicative of an urgent message.

  Takahiro took the note and read it, then passed it to Mari. His expression was unreadable.

  Immediately, Mari saw the note had been written by General Fumio. His short, terse handwriting was unmistakable. She read it twice, just to be certain that she wasn’t hallucinating.

  “Katashi has stopped his advance.”

  Takahiro nodded. “If Fumio’s scout reports are accurate, it means that a fair portion of Katashi’s army is returning home.”

  For them, the connection was obvious. Koji’s mission was doing everything it was supposed to. Katashi had to dedicate some of his forces to return home to stop the relentless nightblade.

  Mari suddenly realized what this meant and how it could help her convince the other lords that pursuing the war was costly. Hopefully, she could make Isamu see reason in the morning, before he left the city. Katashi now knew how much the war was costing him. There would never be a better time to pursue her idea.