Nightblade's Honor (ARC)

by Ryan Kirk

  Asa sighed and bowed. “Thank you very much. I’m very grateful.”

  The older man led her to his house on the outskirts of the village, which wasn’t saying much. The entire town could be walked in less time than it took to cook rice.

  The man quickly told her about himself. His name was Daiki, and he was both a farmer and a merchant. He sold furniture as well as some of the crops he grew. He lived at home with his wife, Ayano. Their only child, Akihiro, was part of Isamu’s army, and although his eyes hungered for knowledge of his boy, there was nothing Asa could tell him. She was woefully out of touch with the news of the day.

  Their home was small, but behind it was a beautiful workshop, clearly Daiki’s pride. The outside of the house was unremarkable, but the tables and tools inside were wonderfully worked. The carvings on the legs of the table were ornate, and the wood was polished until Asa could see her reflected face. She could barely discern a single joint in the work. The blade gazed in amazement. This man, apparently of no great wealth, built furniture lords would be jealous of.

  Ayano fixed Daiki with a stare that could have melted stone when he entered with Asa. The woman was large and strong, no stranger to hard work. Although her anger was apparent, it was quickly defused by Daiki’s easy humility.

  “I know you don’t want guests, but she has been on the road for days without a place to rest. She looked like she was about to fall asleep in the street. I couldn’t help but let her stay the night.”

  Ayano’s glare softened, and Daiki took the opportunity to excuse himself. He claimed to have a piece he needed to finish before the sun fell. As Asa watched the couple, she felt as though she was watching a play the performers had acted out a hundred times.

  Almost as soon as Daiki left the room, Ayano sighed as she looked at Asa. “He’s a good man. Perhaps too good for the times that are coming, if the rumors we hear on the wind are to be believed.”

  Asa bowed, careful not to dip too low and reveal the blade hidden on her back. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. “Thank you for opening your doors to me. I am very grateful.”

  Ayano looked Asa over carefully. “You’re welcome. How did you come to be on the road by yourself?”

  Asa had known this question was coming—the unspoken suspicion. She had dealt with it throughout her life as a woman traveling the roads alone, incognito in her role as a blade. The lie came easily to her, a lifetime of practice allowing her to not miss a beat.

  “My family’s home burned down in Haven. I tried to find them in the camps but failed. I heard rumors they had traveled northeast. When I saw the sign for the town, I decided to try my luck.”

  Ayano’s eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry to hear of your loss. What did your family do?”

  “My father was a blacksmith.”

  The older woman’s gaze relaxed. “A good profession. Hard work is always rewarded. How old are you?”

  “I’ve seen nineteen cycles.” Another lie, but if she told the truth, Ayano would wonder why she wasn’t married. She could pass as nineteen, barely.

  “You look older.” Ayano’s tone was flat.

  Asa tried to disarm the suspicious woman with a smile. “My father always said I looked older than I was.”

  “Why aren’t you married?”

  The question was beyond rude. Ayano would have been shunned from polite company for moons had she asked such a question in public. Asa got the impression the woman would have asked anyway. She was direct, as straight and unbending as stone.

  Asa looked down at the ground, as she expected an unmarried girl of nineteen would. She spoke softly. “My father was searching for a good match when the troubles started in Haven. He said he had found someone promising, but he is missing, too.”

  Asa held her head down, using her sense instead of her sight to judge Ayano’s reaction. The woman’s weight shifted, and she suddenly threw her arms around Asa in an embrace. Asa panicked for a moment but realized she still had her knapsack strapped to her back, protecting her blades from unwanted discovery.

  “You are welcome in our house. There’s some water in the back if you’d like to clean yourself. You look dirty.”

  Just like that, Asa became part of the family. She bowed to Ayano for her kindness and went to the back to bathe.

  That night Asa ate a meal unlike any she had tasted for more than a moon. The three dined on beef and vegetables with strong wine. Asa was only allowed one cup on account of her age, but the entire dinner was delicious. Ayano was a superb cook.

  Afterward they sat around, bellies full. Daiki regaled them with stories from his time in Isamu’s military. Despite her exhaustion, Asa was pulled in by her own curiosity. Daiki had been a typical infantryman, and his perspective was one Asa had never heard. Since the most his former unit generally worried about were skirmishes, the bulk of Daiki’s stories revolved around pranks and superior commanders who were bores.

  She had never really thought about war and combat from the perspective of those closest to it. Had conflict broken out during Daiki’s service, there was every chance he would have been among the first to die. Asa, as a nightblade, would have been used with care and caution by any sensible commander, while Daiki would have been thrown into the thick of battle with no regard for his individual life.

  There was a fascinating difference between the stories he told and the tone he used to tell them. The stories made his time in Isamu’s army sound terrible: endless bureaucratic infighting, more regulations than one could count, and the ever-present knowledge that you might be called to battle at any moment. Despite this, Daiki spoke as though he were talking about a long-lost friend. Asa was curious enough to ask him about the difference.

  Daiki laughed. “You’re right. The thing is, every day of my service was probably terrible. If I had to relive those days, I’m sure I’d complain endlessly, just as we all did back then. But there were good memories, too, and time softens the edges of all pain.”

  For the first time in what felt like forever, Asa found herself relaxing. Perhaps the wine was responsible, or perhaps it was the company. Daiki and Ayano couldn’t have been much more different, but the strength of the bond between them was obvious in even the short time Asa had spent in their company.

  Asa had occasionally thought about a home and family. Up until a moon ago, her entire life had been driven by thoughts of revenge. Now that she had killed her father’s murderer, she had the space. She had never been tempted before, but sitting here with this couple, she began to see the appeal. Was this next for her?

  Her thoughts wandered briefly to Koji. Of all the people she had met recently, he was the one she was most curious about. He had killed a king. No small feat, that. She expected he had escaped. He was far too strong to be easily captured.

  Too late she realized a question had been asked of her. She startled, her eyes focusing on Daiki’s grinning face. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  Daiki waved the question away. “No apology needed. It was rude of us to go on for so long. It’s been some time since we’ve had guests, and I forgot that you must be exhausted from your journey.”

  “No, you’ve both been very kind. I’m sorry, but it’s been a while since I’ve felt so relaxed. You have my sincere gratitude.”

  Asa complimented Ayano again on the food, and after an endless farewell, she retired to her room and fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

  The next morning Asa woke up to a silent house. She suspected a trap, almost leaping out of her bed. As she became aware of her sense, though, she felt Daiki outside, working in his space behind the house. She didn’t feel Ayano anywhere near.

  After her initial panic, Asa took her time getting ready for the day. She supposed she should continue on to Starfall, but it was hard to summon the energy or desire for the task. Her night had been peaceful, uninterrupted. Right now, that was about all she wanted.

  The nightblade took the time to check each of her weapons in the privacy of her ro
om. As expected, all were in perfect condition, but better to be sure than dead. She hid them on her body in the accustomed places and went out to speak with Daiki.

  Her host had developed quite a sweat by the time she made it out to his large workspace. For a while she watched him. Tools hung on the walls in a precise order, handsaws in various shapes and sizes, hammers and mallets, chisels, and plenty of other items Asa didn’t recognize. He was building a low table as near as Asa could tell. She had never seen a master woodworker in action, but her curiosity was instantly piqued.

  Daiki didn’t acknowledge her presence, although Asa had deliberately made noise on her approach so as not to startle him. He had to know she was there, but his focus was on his craft.

  He was cutting wood in half, his saw moving back and forth in smooth, even strokes. Afterward he worked on cleaning the edges of the board, straightening and smoothing them out. In no time at all, Asa was looking at a board ready to be added to the table.

  Before her eyes he had taken raw material and shaped it into something someone could use every day. She watched as he joined the board he had made to another, his cuts and techniques simply but beautifully holding the two pieces together.

  She had probably been standing there for most of the morning when he looked up, his eyes gazing at her as though he had just woken up from a dream.

  “You’re very patient for a young person. My son would have run off a dozen times by now. I’m sorry for my rudeness, but when I get into the middle of something, I find it hard to stop.”

  Asa didn’t mind at all and said as much. “What you do is fascinating.”

  “Yes. I know that my time in the military doesn’t sound too exciting, but the entire time I served, all I could think about was what I might have to destroy to do my duty. Fortunately, I only saw combat once, which was enough for me. When I came back, I helped my father with this farm, but I always wanted to do more. I always wanted to create.”

  Asa looked over the piece in progress. “You’re very good.”

  “Thank you. I’ve been trying to improve for many cycles now.”

  Daiki must have seen Asa’s eyes wandering over his tools. “Would you like to help?”

  Asa surprised herself by agreeing. Together they went to work on the table, the day passing them by. Daiki was a patient teacher, emphasizing detail and care over speed and completion. Asa lost herself in the practice, a moving meditation.

  The sun was setting when Ayano called them in for supper. Asa had been so distracted with helping Daiki she hadn’t noticed when Ayano returned home. Even more surprising was the realization she wasn’t even bothered by her lack of awareness.

  That evening was almost a repeat of the night before. Daiki and Ayano told stories, and Asa listened with rapt attention. As before, she was exhausted before them, her shoulders, back, and arms sore from the day of physical labor.

  The next morning she was up early, breaking her fast with the couple. Ayano left and went to a neighbor’s house, a routine Asa guessed was daily. Daiki led her to the workspace, and together they returned to work on the table.

  By early afternoon the project was finished. Asa stepped back and admired her work, a deep sense of satisfaction filling her bones. There was something about making a physical thing that held meaning. She lightly ran her fingers over the surface, smiling.

  She hadn’t done much. Most of the toil had still been Daiki’s. But she had helped make a table.

  Daiki looked at her and smiled. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

  He shuffled around the workspace, putting his tools away, clearly done for the day. An overwhelming feeling of being lost suddenly descended on Asa. What would she do for the rest of the day? Should she even remain?

  Daiki’s movement caught her attention, and she focused on the older man. In his hands he was holding two wonderfully crafted wooden swords. He handed one to her.

  “Perhaps you’d do me the honor of a short sparring match?”

  Asa’s mind raced, confused by the sudden shift. She tensed up as she realized that somehow he knew what she was.

  His chuckle only confused her more. “I’m sorry. Yes, I know that you’re a nightblade, but you don’t need to worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Well, it is unusual for a woman to be traveling alone, but not so much in these times. I was watching you when you came into town. What gave you away was when you glanced at one of my neighbors before he’d even turned the corner, before you could see him. You have the gift of the sense, and I was once enough of a swordsman to recognize skill when I see it, which means you’re a nightblade.”

  “Why did you invite me in if you knew?”

  Daiki sighed. “There’s a lot of gossip going around about the blades. I don’t know what’s true and what isn’t. But everyone always talks about the blades like they are one big group that all act and think the same. They forget there will be good blades and bad blades, just like there are good people and bad people. You are definitely a blade, but you seemed to have a noble spirit, and I’m always willing to try to help righteous people. Was I wrong about you?”

  Asa stared down at the floor, ashamed by such simple belief. “I’m really not sure.”

  Daiki’s gentle chuckle caused her to look up. “Only a good person would be unsure, so you can take it from me, at least.”

  He stepped away from her and assumed a fighting stance, one that was remarkably solid. “Ever since I was in the army, I wanted the chance to fight a blade. Now, for the very first time, I have that chance. Will you?”

  Asa hadn’t caught up yet, still shocked that her secret was known. But she liked Daiki, and any combat practice felt better than none. She agreed.

  She waited for him to attack, but he seemed content to let her make the first strike. That was fine. She stepped in, attacking with a basic pattern anyone with training would be able to avoid. The move was a test. Daiki looked almost hurt she had tried something so simple. Before he could complain, she attacked again, trying to pressure him backward.

  Daiki held his ground and more. Asa was surprised by the older man’s agility. He might have gray hair, but his movements were as strong as a warrior with far fewer cycles. Asa could still sense every move, but the fight was markedly better than she expected.

  Twice she got inside his guard, delivering soft strikes each time. She pulled away, but he pressed his attack again, a large smile on his face. He looked like a child receiving the birthday gift he’d waited an entire cycle for.

  He struck out with a series of cuts that kept Asa on the defensive. The attack culminated in a thrust aimed at her heart, clearly a move he’d practiced dozens of times. The combination was a good one, designed to get the opponent’s sword in a bad position against a thrusting strike. Against any other warrior it might have worked. Unfortunately for Daiki’s hopes, Asa sensed the attack and easily evaded, tapping her own sword against his neck in response.

  Even though he lost, Daiki laughed, a deep hearty bellow Asa had never heard before. His enthusiasm was contagious, and Asa couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle herself. It had been too long since she’d practiced.

  When Daiki caught his breath, he bowed deeply to her. “Thank you! When I was younger I drilled that last attack every night, thinking I had discovered how to defeat even a mighty nightblade! I’m fortunate that I never had the chance to try with real steel.”

  Asa returned Daiki’s bow. “The attack was well designed, but it is not sufficient to defeat one gifted with the sense.”

  “Will you grant me another favor?”

  “If I can.”

  “May I see one of your forms?”

  Asa agreed, pulling out her swords from their sheaths on her back. Without introduction, she launched into her forms. She focused on her foot placement as the sword cut down and then immediately came up and around in an overhand block. She stabbed the air, then twisted and sliced low. Practice felt good, mu
scles releasing from a tension she hadn’t even realized was there. As always, she began slowly, adding speed as her focus settled. By the time she was finished, her blades were kicking up sawdust as they passed close to the ground.

  She sheathed her swords, glad for the opportunity to practice but afraid of how Daiki might react. She needn’t have worried. If it was possible, his smile had gotten even wider to better match his eyes.

  He shook his head slowly in disbelief. “I have, of course, heard the stories of the skill blades possess, but I have never seen anything like that in my life. How good are you?”

  “Better than many, but far from the best,” she replied. Telling the truth also felt good. She was tired of hiding and lying just to stay safe.

  Asa helped her host clean up the workspace, sweeping up the sawdust and putting away the tools. As they finished Daiki stopped her from leaving.

  “Do you have plans?”

  “No. I had thought to go to Starfall to see what the situation was, but the truth is, I want no part of what seems to be coming.”

  Daiki thought for a moment before he spoke. “I will, of course, need to speak to Ayano before I am certain of this, but you are welcome to stay here for as long as you like. I’m grateful for your help, and I can see how much it means to you to have a place to practice. My space back here isn’t large, but it looks to be just large enough for you to have a place out of sight.”

  Asa was more grateful than she would have imagined. A question stopped her in her tracks, though. “Does Ayano know as well?”

  Daiki shook his head, the sorrow evident in his bearing. “She does not. My wife is a very good woman, concerned only with the safety of our home and our son. But with him gone, she is easily swayed by the news coming from Haven. She would happily poison you if she knew the truth.”

  Asa wasn’t upset by this, yet she didn’t understand. To say she did would go too far. But she did have sympathy for the woman. Her son was at war, fated to a future that grew more uncertain every day. Most people only came across blades a few times in their lives and then only for moments or an evening at most. With the gift, so mysterious to those who didn’t possess it, the blades were the easy and obvious target. Shin had been right in that, at least.