Nightblade

by Ryan Kirk

  Ryuu didn’t sleep long. He seemed to have the ability to wake up at will. After he was up he made a fire and asked for Takako's help in taking off the woman's clothes. Takako was close to making a remark about Ryuu being a pig, but saw the seriousness in his eyes. It was the same look she had seen after their last encounter with Orochi. Takako let the remark die on her tongue and helped him.

  They got to work, peeling the clothes off the girl with as much gentleness as they could manage. Blood had caked the clothes to her body in several places, and Takako grimaced every time she tore off congealed blood with the clothes. They washed the wounds and tried their best to dress them, although they didn't have enough bandages to dress all the cuts. They had to choose those which looked most dangerous.

  The work was exhausting but gave Takako a sense of satisfaction. Healing was a worthwhile endeavor, and she felt optimistic about her work. If they could prevent infection the girl should recover without too many problems. As they worked Takako noticed many of the new scars were laid over old scars. Whoever the girl was, she had been through some severe beatings.

  Ryuu was strangely silent the next few days. The woman, who Takako learned was named Moriko, developed a fever after the first night. She and Ryuu took turns caring for their patient while the other focused on survival. Ryuu would hunt and skin, and Takako would cook and dry the meat and gather food from the forest. Though all of their time was spent in relative proximity to each other, Ryuu never gave more than vague, one-word responses to Takako's inquiries.

  His silence angered Takako. After all they had been through she deserved honest answers from him. Something had happened on his trip, more than him bringing back an injured woman. She was tired of feeling like she didn’t have the slightest sense of the world around her.

  Takako did her best to put the questions aside until Moriko awoke. Then she would have answers. Until then she kept a respectful distance, not trying to push herself into Ryuu's thoughts. It angered her that he wasn’t as concerned about her well-being as he was Moriko's. The days without him had been difficult, and his return hadn't made anything easier.

  Moriko awoke after three days and slowly but steadily regained her health. All of Takako’s hopes that Moriko would clear up the situation were dashed quickly. Ryuu had brought home the only person quieter than he was. Takako had thought they would be on the move as soon as Moriko was up and about. No one else seemed to share her opinion. They both seemed content to rest where they were.

  All of this built up Takako’s frustration. She didn’t want to live in the woods and she didn’t like being stuck in the limbo she was in. She wanted to know what they were going to do. Her mood wasn’t helped as Moriko’s story came out in bits and pieces.

  When it did, Takako understood why Ryuu hadn't mentioned anything to her. Moriko was a nightblade known by Lord Akira, trained by Orochi. And Ryuu had killed another person of importance in the Kingdom. It was as though he was trying to bring the full might of the military down on their heads. And not just the military, but the entire monastic system as well, which spanned all Three Kingdoms.

  But Ryuu didn’t rise to her anger and continued to be nonchalant about their potential danger. His attention was on Moriko and her healing. She was furious at being thrust into a fight that wasn't her own, angry at becoming a hunted criminal when she had done nothing wrong. She was angry because she was afraid, and she wanted Ryuu to share her fear and anger.

  As Moriko got healthier she and Ryuu spent more and more time together, fueling Takako’s rage. Moriko had been watching Ryuu’s training and had asked to join in. Ryuu accepted as if he had forgotten Moriko was Orochi’s student.

  All day long Takako listened to the sound of wood smashing into wood. Neither of them trained with swords, preferring to give it their all with wooden weapons, which Takako wanted to remind them were still weapons. Both of them would come back bruised, sweaty, and happy.

  Conversation at meals focused almost exclusively on technique and their shared history as nightblades. To their credit, Takako supposed, they did attempt to include her, but even though she had known Ryuu longer and had been through so much with him, the bond he and Moriko shared was stronger.

  Her jealousy surprised her. She had spent the past few moons trying to stay apart from him. Now that the separation was actually happening she found she missed his presence. The old adage of not knowing what you have until you lose it was proving to be true. The two of them also shared something that Takako couldn’t touch. They saw the world in the same way with their sense. Ryuu had tried to describe it to her, but Moriko understood it. Takako was losing her last connection to the world.

  It was a cold morning when Ryuu gathered them all around a roaring fire. He had a lot of wood sitting nearby and Takako rightly assumed it was time to make a decision.

  “We need to decide how to move forward.” Takako laughed softly to herself. That was one thing she appreciated about Ryuu. He never went about things in a roundabout manner. He struck straight to the heart of the matter.

  Moriko looked up from the fire. “You assume I’m with you. What if I want to leave?”

  Takako flared her nostrils and stared daggers at Moriko. Ryuu had risked everything in his rescue of her. She owed him nothing less than her life. How dare she question they stay together? Takako caught herself. What had happened to her jealousy? Maybe it would be better if she and Ryuu were alone.

  Ryuu spoke slowly, choosing his words with care. Takako could see him struggling with the mantle of leadership of this small group. “You will be hunted for what happened at Perseverance, just as we are pursued for my actions. Although your mobility will be hampered by having company, I believe we are all safer if we stay together. However, your path is yours to choose. I make no claim on your life.”

  Takako was surprised. She was familiar with the traditions of the warrior class. Often a soldier who was saved by another considered his life in debt to the other. Ryuu was relinquishing his most powerful hold on Moriko right away.

  Moriko was equally surprised. “Why release your claim? You have every right.”

  “I do. But I believe everyone makes their own choice. If you stay with us, I want it to be because you choose to do so. If you don’t want to remain, I would rather you leave. Shigeru was fond of comparing life to combat. Either commit fully or die half-heartedly.”

  Moriko nodded, offering no more.

  Ryuu pressed the point. “Your path is your own. Do you choose to stay with us?”

  Moriko did not answer right away and Takako found the silence unbearable. It felt like a long time passed before Moriko spoke. “I suppose I’m with you. Let’s see where this goes.”

  Ryuu nodded. It was good enough for him.

  “I’ve been thinking about it for a few days now and I see two options. The first is that we run. We find a hiding spot no one will ever find us. Maybe it’s outside of the Three Kingdoms, but we keep running until no one is chasing us anymore.”

  Takako liked that idea. She was convinced bloodshed only led to more bloodshed. For them to try to do anything besides run would only continue the larger cycle of bloodshed and violence they had already experienced.

  “Our second option is to take the offensive. To take out Orochi before he can kill us.”

  Moriko was staring at Ryuu and Takako’s heart dropped when she sensed the determination in Ryuu’s voice. Whatever her choice was, it was clear he had an idea of what he wanted to do.

  Moriko spoke up. “Orochi has the backing of Lord Akira. If you decide to go after him you may end up against an entire kingdom. Orochi is possibly Akira’s most valuable asset. He’s more than an incredible warrior, he is capable of hunting down other nightblades. He alone could guarantee the continuance of Akira’s reign.”

  Ryuu returned Moriko’s piercing gaze. “The thought had occurred to me.”

  Moriko looked uncertain. “I have mixed feelings about Orochi, but I do want to bring down the monasteries.�
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  Takako stared at both of them, mouth agape. One of them wanted to attack an entire Kingdom head on, and the other wanted to take on a system which spanned all Three Kingdoms. Neither of them would ever be criticized for a lack of ambition, but someone had to talk some sense into them.

  “Do you two even realize what you are talking about? Ryuu, you want to take on a Kingdom, and Moriko wants to take down a system that all three Kingdoms depend on. Don’t you realize you’ll only sow more chaos and bring more pain and destruction down, not just on you, but on everyone who lives in the Three Kingdoms?”

  They both looked at her, startled by the emotion of her outburst.

  “Can’t you see how violence only begets more violence? Ryuu killed a young man to rescue me and Orochi came and killed Shigeru. Now Ryuu wants revenge. Moriko, the Abbot struck out at you and you killed Goro. The Abbot would have killed you, except Ryuu killed the Abbot. Violence brings about more violence. Almost everyone I have ever known is dead because no one could step back and see the pain their actions caused!”

  Takako finished, leaving a surprised silence behind her. It was clear neither of them had thought about their actions in that light.

  After what felt like a whole cycle, Ryuu spoke. “Shigeru often lectured me about the dangers of violence. He believed there were times when violence was necessary, but it should be avoided if possible. He never framed it the way you did, Takako.” He paused, collecting his thoughts, testing them before he spoke again. “I do believe violence is a necessary part of the world. We will never exist without war or conflict and it becomes the duty of those who are strong to minimize it as much as possible.”

  Takako looked over at Moriko, who was also reflective. “When I was a little girl, I spent all of my time in woods much like the ones we are in now. What I keep thinking about is the concept of harmony. I think Ryuu is right when he says there will always be conflict in the world. However, I think it is everyone’s duty to live in harmony as much as possible. The wolf may kill the deer, but he doesn’t hunt more than he would need to eat and stay alive. In the same way, violence may be necessary for survival, but we should never seek to do more than is necessary.”

  Takako’s spirits lifted. Perhaps these two warriors could be persuaded to see the wisdom of her cause.

  Ryuu spoke up. “I don’t think we are safe as long as Orochi is alive. He was able to hunt us down even though we left no traces. His ability is superb, and he does not strike me as the sort of man who will give up now. Now that Moriko is with us he will redouble his efforts.”

  Moriko agreed. “He is not an evil man. Intimidating and intense, perhaps, but he does not cause pain for the sake of pain. He is a man who needs purpose. Now that Shigeru is dead, his purpose will come from Akira, and he will never stop as long as the purpose is not fulfilled. He is driven.”

  Ryuu looked closely, again, at Moriko. “If it came to it, could you fight him? Could you kill him?”

  Moriko averted her gaze. “I do not know. That is a question I will need to answer for myself. I do not love him, but he is also the man responsible for me being alive and as strong as I am. There is a debt which must be acknowledged.”

  Takako wanted to press the issue, but Ryuu shot her a warning glance. It was good enough for now. Takako didn’t fully trust Moriko yet, but Ryuu did. She would have to be on her guard to make sure he wasn’t taken by surprise too.

  For a number of long, drawn out moments, there was silence around the campfire, each occupied with their own thoughts. It was Ryuu who broke the silence.

  “I don’t like it, but I think we need to hunt down Orochi. Only once we have settled with him will there be any chance of safety.”

  A thousand objections rose in Takako’s throat, but none of them made it out. He was probably right, but that didn’t make her feel any better. She felt like an insignificant pawn in a grand catastrophe, a catastrophe that she could almost see coming, but with no evidence to back it up, she felt like she had no choice but to go along. Even if it meant death for all of them.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  High above the plains and the forests of the Southern Kingdom Akira sat in his castle as the snows fell. His castle wasn’t grand or showy. It was a fortress on a hill with a commanding view of the surrounding land. Some of his advisers claimed it was the highest hill in the Southern Kingdom not connected to the mountains, but Akira saw no way of proving that. His castle was not there to make a statement, it was there to keep his family safe.

  It was the height of winter and the bone-cutting wind drove snow against the walls, which shook as if battered by the rams of an opposing enemy. Visibility was nonexistent and messengers and traders struggled to reach the safety of the castle walls. Akira glanced down at the letter in front of him, unwilling to accept its contents, wishing but not believing them false.

  Orochi had been wounded during his fight. He had managed to make it back to camp and his guards had brought him to a town where there was a proper healer. Orochi had taken a fever, and the doctor wasn’t sure if he would make it. However, the message was dated a full moon ago, and by now whatever had happened, had happened. Akira couldn’t imagine Orochi succumbing to something as simple as a fever. He couldn’t see Orochi dying at all.

  Akira meandered around the rooms at the center of his castle which served as his war rooms. He’d given orders to be left alone. Today he had received reports that General Nori was livid upon his return from campaign in the fall. He had barely held his units together during the campaign, his thoughts dedicated to revenge. Advisers stationed with Nori’s army had written Akira with warnings that the man was unraveling, falling into drink as the winter blocked his army in. Akira was thankful for the snow. If winter hadn’t come with the strength it did Nori might have moved his entire army to find the boy who killed his son.

  The same boy also wiped out almost half a monastery. Even the Abbot of Perseverance had been killed. It wasn’t public knowledge. The monasteries had elected to keep the matter private. Akira was almost more worried about the repercussions of that action. Doubtless they’d send out a task force, but who was to guess what their next actions would be? He made a note to have a conversation with the Chief Abbot. Whoever this boy was, he was strong and ruthless and throwing systems into chaos.

  Akira worked through his knowledge backwards. They had all been surprised when a warrior of such skill was found in the kingdom. Akira had inherited from his father an extensive collection of records which detailed all the important warriors in the kingdom. Anyone with an uncommon degree of skill was listed and their students and family tracked. In this way Akira always knew who was in his kingdom and who might someday pose a threat.

  There was nothing on this boy or the man who had raised him. Orochi had given him some clues, but knew more than he would say. It connected to his past. That much was certain. What Akira was puzzled by was why the pair would come out when they did. They must have been in hiding for at least ten to fifteen cycles. Why now?

  He created a story he felt fit the pieces he had, but he had no evidence. The older man, Shigeru, had escaped from some place that trained nightblades. Akira had suspected of such a place since he had met Orochi. He had tried to find it, but if it was in the Southern Kingdom they were much more clever than him. He had sent out spies every cycle to no avail, and Orochi wouldn’t speak about it. Akira was disturbed that such a place existed without his knowledge, but Orochi was much too useful to torture for the information. If they could even manage it.

  Shigeru and his son had lived in hiding. Akira suspected that although Shigeru trained his son, they did not seek out conflict. Everyone knew the nightblades were hunted. So they hid in peace. But something had caused that to change, and Akira guessed it was Nori’s son. Shigeru’s boy had been flirting with Takako. This much was known from what Nori’s soldiers gathered. When Nori’s idiot son grabbed the girl the boy went after. An old story, really. But the boy succeeded, and by purpose or accid
ent killed Nori’s son, which led Nori to report to Akira, which brought Orochi into the picture.

  Orochi. After all this time, Akira had begun to hope Orochi would never find Shigeru. Akira had debated telling Orochi, but he wouldn’t compromise his honor. Orochi had served him well. It was his duty as a ruler to return the favor.

  Akira glanced at a map which hung on the wall. It didn’t detail all the information his network of spies brought him, but it was a constant reminder of the delicate balance the Three Kingdoms existed in. The treaty gave them peace, but it was tenuous. It was a miracle it had lasted as long as it had. Only because of the shared fear of the nightblades.

  The Southern Kingdom shared borders with both the Western and Northern Kingdoms. Either would be delighted to have sole access to the bountiful resources of the Southern Kingdom. Lumber, ores, grain, all of it was produced in the Southern Kingdom. They traded with the other two Kingdoms in return for the finances which kept Akira’s military fed. Akira’s kingdom had the only passage through the mountains, so Akira needed to maintain the largest military of all the Kingdoms.

  If either of the Kingdoms got wind of the trouble which was brewing in the south, they wouldn’t hesitate to make advances. As it was, Akira’s northern border was lightly defended. Fighting in the pass was taking the bulk of his men. The Azarians were up to something as well, and Nori’s performance in the pass had been dismal as he remained distracted.

  In a perfect world he could leave his northern borders undefended. In theory those kingdoms were his allies and he should be able to leave them open. However, they were allies only as long as it was mutually beneficial. As soon as there was a chance for anything more, any one of them would seize the opportunity.

  The Three Kingdoms needed to be reunited. Akira recognized the truth, but it would never happen without suffering and bloodshed. None of the Kingdoms would relinquish their illusion of control even if it meant sacrificing a chance for lasting peace. Only together would they be strong enough to create a peace which was permanent.