L5r - scroll 04 - The Phoenix

by Stephen D. Sullivan

  When he finished, Tsuke frowned. "It's strange the sorcerer would not put up more of a fight."

  "I thought it odd, too," Tadaka said, "even though my powers would shield me from detection. I wonder if I faced Junzo in the scroll room, or a simulacrum."

  "That would explain it, yes," Uona said. "He couldn't bring his full power to bear that way. Perhaps his enchantment was limited to the chamber itself."

  Tadaka nodded. "It would also explain how he could reappear so quickly after riding out of the castle. If it's true, though, he put up a tremendous fight for a phantom."

  "All the more reason we need to stop him before he goes any further," Tsuke said. The fire in the bowl before him blazed more brightly for a moment before dying back down.

  "Tsuke, Tomo, and I studied the unopened scrolls in your absence," Uona said.

  Tadaka thought he heard Kaede gasp, but her face remained serene. The Shadowlands taint hidden beneath the Master of Earth's clothes tingled with black fire. He resisted the urge to scratch it. Sweat beaded on his forehead. "And ... ?"

  "The scrolls resisted our attempts to probe them," Uona con-l inued. "We learned nothing." A look of frustration washed over her pretty face. The winds in her bowl stirred in agitation, and Tadaka imagined he heard the word open!

  "The scrolls' wards are very powerful," Tomo added softly. He dropped his eyes to the burbling water in his bowl.

  Tsuke looked around the garden at the others. His eyes narrowed, and he seemed about to speak. He stopped, though, and said nothing. The corner of his left eye twitched.

  "And you, Kaede?" Tadaka asked.

  "I fared no better," she said, her liquid eyes filled with sadness. "The emperor is consumed with plague and darkness. I... I could not help him. The empress spins her webs, little realizing she herself is caught in them. The court is decaying, but no one seems willing or able to stop it."

  "We will stop it," Tsuke said.

  Tadaka nodded. "Hai," he said. "The time for action has come." The taint burned, but he ignored it. He inhaled deeply and continued. "In Junzo's lair, I glimpsed the might of the Black Scrolls. That knowledge gave me the strength I needed to escape his evil grasp. The scrolls hold the power of destruction. Perhaps they also hold the power of salvation."

  "Shinsei and the Seven Thunders used the scrolls to defeat Fu

  Leng," Tomo said quietly. "Is it possible we could do likewise?"

  "It is possible," Tsuke said, his bass voice booming. "The enemy sweeps toward our homeland, and we are still not wise enough to fight him. We must know more. We must use Junzo's tactics against him."

  Tsuke looked around at the others. Night had fallen while they talked, and the fire from his bowl blazed in his eyes. "When Junzo was a Scorpion, we knew to expect treachery from him," the Master of Fire said. "As Fu Leng's pawn, though, he's become both more powerful and more unpredictable."

  "We need more knowledge," Uona said, her hair whipping around her head in an unfelt wind, "and there is only one place to get it."

  Kaede shook her head and whispered softly. "No ...!"

  "What choice do we have?" Tadaka snapped. Sweat ran down his forehead, and the taint blazed. He looked frantically at the others. "We can fight Junzo and his master on their terms, or we can perish. Do you want to end up like Mouse? Or like the Crane? Hoturi's army of the damned is nothing compared to Junzo's. I've seen it! I've seen his power! The only way to fight this evil is to open the Black Scrolls."

  Silence hung in the chamber as Tadaka's voice died away.

  "No!" Kaede whispered.

  "Yes!" Tsuke thundered. "There is no other way!"

  "But the price ...!" Kaede said.

  "The price may be terrible indeed," Uona replied, "but we're all masters of our craft. If anyone can turn the dark magics of the scrolls to good, it is we. I will pay any price to preserve our homeland. It is the only way. We must open the scrolls."

  Tomo turned to his sister, concern written on his placid face. "She is right, Kaede."

  A hush fell on the chamber. Even the River of Awakening went silent. In the quiet, Tadaka thought he heard Uona's winds whisper yes, Tsuke's fire crackle yes, Tomo's water burble, yes ... even the rocks say, yes. Only Kaede's black emptiness remained silent.

  A fire in the back of Tadaka's brain urged his lips to move. "Yes," he said confidently, "we will do what we must."

  "Yes," the others echoed—all save Kaede.

  Tadaka looked at his sister and saw tears mingling with her sweat. Her long black hair looked damp, lifeless. Turning his face up, Tadaka felt a gentle mist seeping through the magical dome overhead.

  "I will not," Kaede said.

  "Kaede does not need to open a scroll," Tsuke said. "She'll be far more useful lending support to the rest of us. The Void can give us all the strength to do what we must—the strength to save the Phoenix, and all of Rokugan."

  Tomo held his sister with his clear eyes and said, "Kaede, we cannot do this alone. We need you. The clan needs you."

  Kaede nodded her assent. "Yes," she said quietly. "I'll do what I can. I'll help."

  Tadaka drew a deep breath. He lifted his hands from his knees and spread his arms wide. Though his body shook with exhaustion, he willed it steady before he spoke. "We ask the Sun Goddess to sanctify our decisions," he said. "May the Seven Fortunes bless our actions and preserve our people. This council is at an end."

  the tide turns

  Shiba Ujimitsu backed against the escarpment, a grim smile drawing across his handsome face. The rock behind him was high—too high to leap over. Nor could he vault the vast Shadowlands hoard pressing in around him. All the samurai with him had been killed, and now rose to join his enemies. They brandished rusted weapons and howled for his death. This time, the zombies might get their wish.

  Ujimitsu lopped off the head of the skeleton nearest him and smashed its rib cage with his return stroke.

  He turned and looked into the dead eyes of Shiba Hiroko. Moments before she had been fighting at his side. Now she swung her katana at his neck, trying to kill him. Ujimitsu parried and kicked her in the chest. Hiroko fell back against her undead companions, knocking several of them down. Others pressed forward to take her place.

  Eji thrust a spear through the billowing

  sleeve of Ujimitsu's gold and red kimono. The Phoenix Champion had fought beside Eji for years, since the young man first left his father's rice paddy to join the Phoenix army as an ashigaru—a foot soldier.

  The spear's blade didn't pierce Ujimitsu's skin, but it slowed his movements enough that another slashing blade found his calf.

  The katana belonged to Isawa Taro, a samurai with ten years more experience than the champion. Hatred blazed in Taro's undead eyes as he prepared a more deadly cut.

  Ujimitsu grabbed the shaft of Eji's spear and spun, throwing the spearman into Taro. The spear shredded the champion's billowing sleeve as it pulled out, making his arm a better target. As Ujimitsu lopped off Eji's head, a thrown tanto sank into his shoulder.

  The Phoenix Champion gasped and spared a glance at the dagger. The wound was deep; the entire blade had pierced the muscle. Thankfully, it had missed the underlying bone. Ujimitsu yanked the tanto out with his left hand and flung it back toward its master, Hiroko.

  The undead samurai brought her hands up too late. The dagger pierced her left eye, and she fell back into the scrabbling crowd of damned warriors. She disappeared beneath the black sea of bodies.

  Ujimitsu switched his katana to his left hand just in time to parry another attack by Taro. He thrust back and hit his former compatriot on the helmet. Taro staggered backward. The champion spun and kicked an advancing skeleton, shattering it to pieces. The fragments rained on Taro like nails. Pale shards embedded themselves in his dead flesh. The undead Isawa flung up his hands to ward off the debris. He hissed in anger.

  Ujimitsu's injured shoulder ached; the wound burned with Shadowlands poison. Taro thrust at Ujimitsu's neck, and then cut in quick success
ion at his chest and thigh. The Phoenix Champion parried the first blow and the third. The armor of his chest plate turned aside the second cut—barely.

  Sweat trickled down Ujimitsu's brow and into his eyes, clouding his vision. He blinked back the moisture.

  Taro came at him again, eyes blazing with supernatural fury.

  He slashed through the maddened crowd, slaying several of his compatriots to get to Ujimitsu. He thrust at the Phoenix Champion's neck.

  Ujimitsu batted the blade aside with his own. He sliced at Taro's shoulder, but the undead samurai parried. Their swords locked.

  Ujimitsu kicked Taro in the shin, breaking the small bone. Taro grinned and bore forward. The strike had left Ujimitsu off balance, and Taro took advantage of that. He cut at the champion's chest and pushed. Ujimitsu parried, but the force of the blow knocked him back.

  The Phoenix Champion landed on his seat with a jarring impact. His wounded shoulder throbbed, and the thunder of his own blood filled his ears. He slashed up, and his katana found the soft underside of Taro's right arm.

  The blade sank deep and caught on bone. The undead warrior yanked back, and the katana slipped out of Ujimitsu's hand. The Phoenix Champion scrambled to draw his wakizashi. Time seemed to crawl as Taro flipped his blade into his left hand and raised the sword high for a deathblow.

  Ujimitsu knew he wouldn't free his own sword in time to parry the cut. Blood thundered in his ears. Taro's sword descended toward his head.

  Suddenly the sword stopped, and Taro began to rise into the air. He flailed wildly, gurgling and hissing. When his feet were as high as the Phoenix Champion's head, he jerked once. Black blood spurted from a new wound in his chest. The point of a long spear emerged from the undead warrior's armor.

  Ujimitsu's sight cleared, and he saw a horseman behind the monster. She had spitted Taro on her spear. He squirmed like a fly on a pin and gurgled his anger. Recognizing his savior, Ujimitsu smiled.

  Shiba Tsukune thrust her long spear aside, casting Taro under the hooves of one of her fellows. The armored steed crushed the undead warrior into lifelessness. Tsukune rode among the teeming undead with a fresh contingent of Phoenix cavalry. She drew her katana and cut down several creatures. "Quite a reversal," she called to her friend, "my saving you."

  Ujimitsu staggered to his feet and warded off several undead with his sword. "I'm grateful for it," he called back to her. "Domo arigato gozaimasu."

  "Don't mention it," Tsukune yelled over the din of the battle. "Jump on the back of my horse if you can. We need to get out of here!"

  "Be with you in a moment," Ujimitsu said. His hope renewed, he cut right and left with his wakizashi, felling a zombie with each blow. He spun, becoming a living whirlwind, separating limbs from the undead. The ghastly horde fell back to regroup.

  Ujimitsu stopped his twirling dance of death; no undead remained within reach. For a moment, he had the space he needed. Quickly, he sheathed his short sword.

  The Phoenix Champion crouched low, gathering his strength. He vaulted high into the air, flying over the intervening samurai and landing solidly in the saddle behind Tsukune.

  "Nice jump," she said, smiling. Ujimitsu gripped the back of her obi with his right hand. His wounded shoulder howled in protest, but the champion didn't listen.

  "Hang on," Tsukune said, "I'll get you out of here in one piece."

  "No, wait!" Ujimitsu said. He drew his short sword and pointed to a throng of undead warriors. "Go that way," he said. "There's something I have to do before we go."

  Tsukune nodded and spurred her horse forward. Fell samurai clawed at them as they rode, but Ujimitsu and Tsukune chopped off the undeads' limbs as quickly as they rose. Tsukune saw their objective.

  In the middle of a band of enemy troops stood Shiba Hiroko, the champion's former friend. Black blood from her ruptured eye streamed down her hellish face. She wailed when she saw the Phoenix Champion, hatred blazing in her one remaining orb. She pushed through the seething crowd toward the living riders.

  "Give me your katana," Ujimitsu said to Tsukune. They quickly switched blades. She guided her great war horse through the teeming masses.

  Hiroko charged, pushing skeletons and zombies aside. She raised her sword, as if to cut Ujimitsu in half.

  Tsukune tightened her grip on the reins and turned the animal so that Ujimitsu could face their undead kinsman. The Phoenix Champion held his sword straight up and parallel to his right ear.

  Hiroko brought her sword down in a thunderous cut. Ujimitsu parried, though the blow nearly shook him from the saddle. He forced Hiroko's blade to the left and then reversed, slashing to the right.

  Ujimitsu's blade bit deeply into Hiroko's undead neck. Her spine shattered under his blow. The undead woman's head sailed from her shoulders and landed in the mud several paces away. Her body fell to the earth.

  The Phoenix Champion cut down several more zombies as Tsukune turned her horse away.

  "I couldn't leave her like that," Ujimitsu said, handing Tsukune's katana back to her.

  Tsukune nodded. "I understand," she replied. She handed him his own sword, and he sheathed it. "Let's go," she said.

  The Phoenix general wheeled her horse and called her cavalry to her. As one they turned and galloped back through the undead, toward their own lines. Many evil troops died under the hooves of their war horses.

  Tsukune turned to her friend. "How bad is that wound?"

  "Pretty bad," Ujimitsu said, "but I'll live."

  Tsukune nodded, and the mail hanging from her steel helmet rattled. "Glad to hear it," she said. "I'd hate to think that I'd saved you from these creatures just to have you die on the back of my horse. Do you need aid?"

  "I wouldn't say no to a good shugenja right now," Ujimitsu replied. He used his left hand to bunch his silk kimono against his wound, trying to stanch the flow of blood.

  "We have some skilled healers at the back of our lines," she said. "I'll take you there." She turned to her other riders and called, "Help hold the line! We can win a great victory here if we catch them between the rocks and our samurai. Fight on for the Phoenix and for Rokugan! Gambatte!"

  The other warriors raised their katanas and shouted, "Gambatte!" They wheeled and rejoined the fray as Tsukune and her horse carried Ujimitsu back through the line.

  For long moments, the world swam before the Phoenix Champion's eyes. He concentrated, trying to stop the bleeding and bring his breathing under control. His heart pounded like the hammer of a mighty smith. Sweat poured down his brow. The din of battle merged into a great roar, sound like the sea. He almost didn't hear Tsukune when she spoke to him again.

  "Have you heard?" she asked. "He is coming!"

  "What?" Ujimitsu asked. "Who? Who's coming?"

  "Hoturi," she said. "Doji Hoturi."

  The champion's mind swam, and he fought to comprehend her words. "Hoturi?" he said. "But we've been fighting against him for weeks—months! It's his minions that nearly killed me just now. If your force hadn't arrived in time...."

  "No," Tsukune said, shaking her head. "It's not Hoturi we've been fighting, but some evil twin of the Crane Daimyo, created by dark magic—maho probably."

  "How is that possible?" Ujimitsu asked.

  Tsukune shrugged. "Who knows?" she said. "I'm no more a shugenja than you are. All I know is that the real Hoturi is on his way. He escaped his captors and has come to join his people."

  Ujimitsu shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. The long days of battle, the blood loss, the exhaustion, all made him unsure he could trust his senses.

  "They say Toturi had a hand in Hoturi's escape," she continued, "though I haven't got the entire story. When we finish off this company of undead, things will settle down. Maybe we can get the whole picture then."

  "Maybe," Ujimitsu agreed. He fought down nausea. His body began to shake, a sure sign of shock.

  "Hang on," Tsukune said. "We're almost there."

  Ujimitsu gripped her obi more tightly and leaned his
cheek against her back. Sweat ran down his forehead and into his eyes. He closed them.

  xxxxxxxx

  When the Phoenix Champion opened his eyes again, the silk ceiling of a pavilion hung overhead. He lay on a futon. His right shoulder ached but no longer burned. He wore a padded cotton undergarment. The robe wasn't his usual color, but he didn't feel inclined to argue.

  Ujimitsu sat up slowly. As he did so, the flap of the tent opened, and Shiba Tsukune walked in. Her armor was splattered with blood, though none seemed to be her own. She held her steel helmet under her left arm. The mail skirt around the helmet's rim clattered.

  Tsukune's dark hair fell over her broad shoulders. A smile creased her grimy face. Her brown eyes flashed in the tent's dim light. "About time you woke up."

  "How long was I out?" Ujimitsu asked.

  "The better part of a day. How do you feel?"

  "Well enough to rejoin the battle," he said.

  "The battle's over," Tsukune said. "The field is ours. We won the day." She paused and smiled. "It's about damn time."

  He nodded.

  "The war's not over, of course," she said. "But with Hoturi— the real Hoturi—on our side, I like our chances."

  "So do I," Ujimitsu said, rising to his feet.

  Tsukune stepped forward, ready to support him. "Sure you're up to that?"

  "Yes," he said. "I need to get back to work."

  "The Phoenix Champion never rests, eh?" she said, smiling. "I've got something for you."

  "What?" he asked.

  "Hold out your hands."

  He did. From behind her Tsukune drew a katana and placed it in his outstretched palms. "Your weapon, Ujimitsu-sama," she said. "We recovered it from the battlefield."

  "Arigato," he said. He walked to a corner of the tent where his wakizashi rested in a sword stand. Next to the stand lay a red kimono blazoned with his usual fire and feathers. He set down the sword for a moment and pulled the kimono on over his padded undergarment.

  As he stretched his arms, pain shot through his right shoulder.

  He kept his face passive and ignored it. When he'd finished tying his golden obi, he picked up the swords, sheathed them, and stuffed the weapons into his belt.