by Sarah Ash
The Cranes must be running low on arrows by now; the beach is strewn with spent shafts.
And then the Kites’ full-throated battle cries altered to shouts and screams of confusion. Masao swiveled around just in time to see the clan’s advance guard disappearing from view, tumbling into a concealed pit. He swore.
“Damn the Cranes. They’ve booby-trapped the beach.”
Distracted by the hail of arrows, the first foot soldiers had fallen into a deep trench, cleverly camouflaged to deceive them into thinking they were walking onto solid ground.
He sensed sudden movement from the cliff behind him. Black Crane foot soldiers had launched themselves from the heights, jumping down with drawn swords.
“Protect Saburo!” Masao yelled to his five remaining men, planting himself in front of the rocks. It was only as he saw the hatred in the eyes of the first Crane bearing down on him that he realized this was no practice duel.
He moved automatically and the shock of blade meeting blade sent vibrations shooting up his arm. He thrust the Crane’s sword away, gripping his hilt two-handed to retaliate with a stronger, upward slash. Sparks flew as the blades clashed again.
The fire drug! Could a stray spark set it off? Masao pushed with all his strength and his opponent gave way, falling back a pace or two.
Must drive him further away. Masao moved in again, darting a swift jab toward the throat, the tiny gap between helmet and body armor, only to have it powerfully deflected. Masao found himself forced back a step – and then another.
And now I’m sweating. Sun’s so hot. He’s trying to make me turn into the light so I’m dazzled. This one was not going to give any ground. Masao planted his feet as firmly as he could in the sand, fending off the Crane’s blows.
Damn. He’s far stronger than I am. And I can’t let him get any closer to Saburo.
The Crane came back with another double-handed thrust.
He may be strong, but I’m lighter, maybe faster. Perhaps I can distract him –
Instinct from his years of training with Master Yūdai made Masao deftly swivel the tip of his blade around beneath his opponent’s and bring it upward, slicing hard into his wrist. Blood spurted as the man let out a harsh, rasping cry and his weapon dropped to the sand.
Masao, showered in a red mist, automatically drew back his sword to deliver a final thrust to the throat, aiming for the gap where the helmet ended and the body armor began.
“Masao!”
Saburo’s voice penetrated the bloody haze; Masao spun around to see the armorer staring at him in horror. Blinking crimson drops from his lashes, he noticed the body slumped across the rocks; his brain dully registered that it was another of the Cranes who had attacked them.
“General Okitane’s given the signal!” Saburo shouted, his voice cracking as he tried to make himself heard above the din of battle.
“What? Fire now?” Masao turned, scanning the melee for his uncle’s distinctive horned helmet.
“Get back over here!”
Masao clambered over the rocks, bloodied sword still in hand. He was breathing hard, fear and exhilaration burning together like fiery liquor in his veins.
Yet only now did he see why Okitane had given the signal; a group of Crane foot soldiers had broken away from the main party and were making straight toward them, spears leveled.
“Everyone get down.” Masao heard his voice yelling the order as he helped Saburo to steady the iron dragon eruptor. “Ready, Saburo –fire !”
***
Louder than a thunderclap, more dazzling than a lightning strike, the blast hurled molten shrapnel at the oncoming Cranes.
Masao and Saburo, enveloped in a cloud of foul-smelling smoke, were flung back onto the sand by the force of the explosion. For a moment Masao could hear nothing, and then he felt his ribs heaving, as, choking and coughing, he struggled to get up. Saburo appeared beside him, his face smeared with smuts, reddened eyes watering as he wheezed for breath.
“Did – we stop them?” Masao had dropped his sword; he fumbled around on the sand, fingers closing at last around the familiar hilt. As the smoke began to disperse, blown away by the cleansing salt breeze off the sea, he forced himself into a defensive pose, blade across his body. But there was no need; the fighting seemed to have come to an abrupt end.
One of the Cranes had been caught in the blast and lay bleeding on the sands. The others had taken to their heels, running toward the shelter of the pines. Above the roaring in his ears, Masao could just make out the raucous sound of the Cranes’ conch shell trumpet sounding the retreat. All over the beach, the Crane soldiers were drawing back, melting into the shade of the forest from which they had first appeared.
“Seems so.” Saburo managed a shaky grin, but Masao saw that beneath the fire drug stains the armorer’s face had turned a sickly pale. “But you’re covered in blood. Are you – ?”
“Wounded?” Masao’s voice seemed to his own ears to come from very far away. He raised his left hand to wipe his brow and saw stains of red on his fingers. “No; I don’t think this is mine.” His gaze slowly shifted to the Crane he had crossed blades with, who now lay still on the sand.
There was blood spurting everywhere; I must have severed an artery. Masao felt suddenly queasy and faint. From the taste of bile and fire drug tainting his mouth, he was afraid that he might be on the point of throwing up again. I’ve never taken a life before. And now I’m covered in his blood. All he wanted was to be able to creep away to somewhere secluded, away from the gaze of the Kite foot soldiers, so that he didn’t disgrace his family name.
True clan warriors don’t betray their feelings in front of their men. They inspire them by setting an example of courage even in the face of extreme danger.
My men. Masao forced himself to concentrate. “Are you all right, Saburo?”
Saburo nodded. “But that was the last of the fire drug.”
Masao put one hand on the armorer’s shoulder. “You did well. That blast must have put the wind up the Cranes! We ruffled their feathers, didn’t we?”
“They all but flew away.” Saburo began to laugh and Masao found himself laughing too, caught up in the utter absurdity of their situation.
“Flew back to their nest!” The laughter brought tears to his eyes and made his ribs ache but it felt incredibly good. In fact, everything suddenly felt good: the cooling breeze off the sea on his hot face, the relief that they had completed their mission. The tide was turning, creeping nearer with each successive wave, the frothy foam washing the blood from the sand.
***
The Kites set about putting up the maku, the curtained enclosure that marked their battle headquarters, on the beach; the narrow bay soon rang to the sound of their mallets banging the iron poles into the sand.
“Lord Toshiro has new instructions for you.” Okitane directed the armorers to the heart of the base where Lord Toshiro was sitting with the older retainers.
Masao and Saburo knelt down and bowed.
I fought well today. I defended our position successfully. Please put me back with the other warriors, Masao begged the clan lord silently.
“You did well today, Masao, Saburo,” said Lord Toshiro. “But the iron dragon still only has a very limited field of fire. So I need you to work out how best to transport it up the mountain to within firing range of Castle Kurozuro.”
Masao hung his head, his hopes crushed. He didn’t trust himself to speak, for fear that his anger would color his words.
“My lord,” said Saburo beside him, “we urgently need to find a fresh source of saltpeter to make more fire drug. Do we have your permission to leave the camp?”
“Do whatever you need to,” said Lord Toshiro. “Just make sure that you’re ready as soon as possible for our final assault on the castle.”
***
“You’re going up the mountain?” Okitane turned from the outspread maps of the bay to glare at Masao, his face like the carving of a war god, brows bristling fiercely
and bloodshot eyes rolled upward. “Have you got a death wish? Didn’t you see what became of Taro and Hideaki?”
Masao nodded, remembering the grisly sight of Taro’s disfigured corpse.
“Their mission was to locate the entrance to the castle siege tunnel. They went up the mountain too. And there’s still no sign of Yoriaki; who knows what’s become of him up there. We can only hope that he’s managed to infiltrate the castle and is lying low, waiting for us to launch the final attack.”
Masao pushed the unsettling image to the back of his mind. “As Saburo’s coming with me, I was planning on disguising us both as wandering monks.”
“Very well.” Okitane turned back to his maps. “Go see Master Yūdai to get the disguises. And be careful.”
Be careful. Masao hadn’t expected to hear such an expression from his uncle, who tended to content himself with a grunt on such occasions. What am I getting myself into?
Chapter 16
Kai stopped to catch his breath. He was falling behind Sakami again; sure-footed and agile, she had gone on ahead as the path began to wind upward toward the lower mountain slopes.
He didn’t want to admit it but he was having difficulty. His withered leg constantly threw him off balance and every time he lost his footing on the stony path he had difficulty keeping himself from falling. The backpack wasn’t helping either.
“Let me carry the pack.”
He hadn’t even noticed Sakami return. He shook his head.
“I promised Princess Asagao that I’d bring you to her as swiftly as possible.” There was an unmistakable hint of exasperation in her voice; had his mother threatened her with punishment if she didn’t carry her mission through? “The path only gets steeper from here. I’m strong, my lord; I’m used to carrying heavy loads.”
But it was shameful to make a young girl carry the medicine chest. It made him feel less of a man and more like a helpless invalid. “I thought we agreed that you’d call me Kai.”
“Only if you let me take the backpack.” He saw a stubborn glint in her brown eyes. “Just for a short while, Kai.”
The moment the weight was gone from his shoulders, the sense of relief and lightness proved that she was right; he felt better able to concentrate on placing his feet safely on the uneven ground.
“You know the mountain ways really well, Sakami.” He was even able to attempt conversation now that he wasn’t struggling to keep his balance.
“I was born in Sakuranbo village.”
How could he have forgotten? She must think he was so insensitive.
“I’m taking us back that way.” She seemed unfazed by his comment. “We’ll have to be on our guard; I ran into some Kite shinobi up there.”
He stopped, astonished at the inconsequential way she let the information slip. “How did you manage to escape?”
“Ha! I’ll – save that tale – for later.” She was beginning to puff a little as the path climbed more steeply. “But they came out of nowhere. Like dark hawks swooping down from the trees.”
“The Kite Shadow.” Kai glanced around uneasily, wondering if he would sense if they were being observed. That night at the monastery, he had been the first to realize they were under attack. It was a sensation that he was in no hurry to experience again, reawakening as it did blood-soaked memories of the night his father was murdered.
“The Kites are all over the mountain. I think they’re looking for the entrance to the siege tunnel.”
“But the general must have set traps to stop them getting in that way.” And then he remembered the scrawny little mountain girl he had first come across in the siege tunnel, sobbing as if her heart was breaking. He grinned at the memory. “Do you remember how we first met?” he said to Sakami’s back as he followed her. “I took you to see the fox cubs playing in the sun.”
Her steady stride slowed. “I remember,” he heard her say, and there was a softness in her tone he had not noticed before. “But then you left the castle and never came back.”
“Till now.”
“How did you recognize me?” She continued to climb the winding track without looking back once. “It’s been almost seven years.”
“Your eyes.” As brown as dark honey dripping from the comb. He’d answered without even thinking. Was that too intimate a confession? Ever since he’d first seen her staring at him through her tears, he’d noticed how expressive her eyes were. Perhaps he’d better change the subject. “So is Yuna still in charge of the kitchens?”
“Yes, and as impossible to please as ever.”
He laughed.
She turned around at last and he caught a glimpse of a smile. “You know,” she said, “we might even make the village before sunset if you can keep going at this pace.”
***
“Isn’t it bad karma to pretend to be a yamabushi?” Saburo looked down at the clothes Master Yūdai had supplied, the traditional garb of a wandering mountain monk. “Supposing we run into some Crane warriors and they ask us to prove who we are?”
“Then we chant a quick prayer and ask for alms.” Inwardly Masao felt ridiculous in the travel-stained white and saffron-yellow robes. But as he led the way up the narrow overgrown track, he realized how grateful he was that Saburo had accepted this task with such good humor. “When you were first apprenticed to Master Kinkiyo, I’ll bet this wasn’t what you imagined you’d be doing.”
“True enough; my dream was to become a master swordsmith. But after I married Beniko, the need to put food on the table took precedence.”
Masao heard a note of regret coloring Saburo’s words. A sudden flash of memory brought back the sight of Beniko holding Ren up to wave to his father as the ships set sail from the island harbor.
“It must have been hard for you, saying goodbye to her and little Ren.”
“Harder for her, maybe, than for me; I might not come back, after all. But she knows that I have to obey the clan lord’s orders, just as you do. We all want to make sure that Lord Naoki is safe.”
Masao had stopped to consult Kinkiyo’s map. “The map shows a village at the top of the mountain – Mountain Cherry Village – but there’s nothing here but ruins.” Masao pushed back his monk’s straw hat and scratched his head. “What can have happened?”
“And yet the mountain track has been kept clear.” Saburo was gazing around.
“Looks as if it’s been deserted for years,” Masao felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickling, “and yet two of our best shinobi were ambushed and killed near here.”
Are we being watched? His hand crept to the hilt of the knife he had concealed in his sleeve. He would have preferred to bring his sword but carrying such an obvious warrior’s weapon would have ruined his disguise.
“Fire damage.” Saburo had been tugging back the creepers and vines to reveal the charred, tumbled stones beneath.
“The birds have stopped singing. Stay close to me, Saburo,” Masao said softly. “I get the feeling we’re not alone.” He felt responsible for the armorer’s safety; after all, Saburo was the expert in fire drug and, for all his high status as Lord Naoki’s retainer, he was just an apprentice when it came to weaponry. The least he could do was to watch Saburo’s back, whilst the armorer searched for the cave.
“If there was a fire, why did the villagers never return to rebuild?” Saburo was hunting around, picking up a handful of dry soil, crumbling it between his fingers and sniffing it.
“Perhaps this place is haunted.” Masao kept glancing around uneasily. He suddenly caught a tremor of movement disturbing the undergrowth and placed one finger on his lips, gesturing to Saburo to keep still.
“What is it?” Saburo whispered.
A russet glint streaked past and vanished into the farthest trees. Masao let out a pent-up breath. “Just a fox.”
***
“So no one came back to restore the shrine?” Kai gazed at the overgrown, neglected ruins. The sight filled him with a sense of desolation.
“There was n
o one left but Shun and me; everyone else was killed.” Sakami was pulling a strangling collar of ivy from around one of the shrine foxes’ necks, her face averted so that he couldn’t see her expression. “And then the rumors started, saying the place was haunted…”
“Such disrespect to Lady Inari.” Kai turned to the other fox statue and began to do the same. “Why would the Akatobi clan commit such an atrocity?”
She shrugged. “I heard later that it was done to draw Lord Morimitsu out. That the Kites weren’t strong enough to attack the castle compound, so they struck at my village.”
“But it doesn’t make sense. Why destroy a village and all its inhabitants just to get at my father?” There had to be another reason. “Does Lord Toshiro have some grudge against Lady Inari? Or did the headman anger the Kites?” But he was speaking to himself; Sakami had wandered further off. Perhaps she needed time to be alone with her memories.
Kai sat down with his back against a boulder and stretched out his legs, rubbing each in turn to try to dull the ache in his muscles.
“If we rest here overnight, we should reach the castle by dusk tomorrow.” Sakami returned to sit beside him. “Hold out your hand.” To his surprise, she filled his open palm with red cherries. “The fire didn’t destroy everything; there are peaches and apples ripening behind the shrine. I hope the birds won’t mind my taking these.” She popped a cherry into her mouth and then pulled a face. “They’re sour.”
“Refreshing,” Kai said, as he chewed the juicy, bitter-sweet flesh.
To his surprise, she laughed. “You always turn things around,” she said, adding, “in a good way, that is.”
He liked the way her face crinkled up when she laughed; it made him want to make her laugh again. “It must be my training at the monastery. Abbot Genko encourages his disciples to look at life in a different way.” And then he found he couldn’t say any more, suddenly overcome by a feeling of foreboding, as if he was already speaking of his time at the monastery as though it were over.
