by Ree Soesbee
Uji stepped higher onto the oni's back, trying to draw his feet beneath him for leverage. It was no use. He was stuck against the oni's hide, trapped in the thick tar that slid from the wound in filthy bursts of black blood. Cursing, Uji reached into his obi and drew out his katana.
Howling, the oni flexed its ropelike muscles. It clawed at its own back in an attempt to reach the offending samurai. Turning from side to side, its iron claws clicked uselessly.
Uji jerked away, but before he could shift his weight, he was covered with another warm wash of tar. He clung to the short hilt of his wakizashi, lifting his katana to drive the second blade into the oni's neck.
Before he could stab with the blade, the oni turned, throwing itself against the stone wall behind it.
Uji was crushed by the sheer weight of the thing's flesh. His fingers slipped on his katana's hilt, nearly dropping the weapon. He felt a snapping in his ribcage. His breath grew
short as he choked on the tarry flesh of the beast.
The oni slammed against the wall once more.
Faintly, Uji heard a battle cry, and he felt the pressure ease.
The cry came from Ritenu, the last man of Uji's legion left alive. Spear in hand, Ritenu hung from the creature's claw as it struggled to shove him into its mouth. The beast snapped its fangs together. The valiant Daidoji took his spear and drove it up into the oni's pallet. The creature screamed, shoving Ritenu down its gullet with one mighty hand and shattering the shaft of the spear entirely.
Ritenu's attack had been enough to move the oni away from the wall; enough to allow Uji to strike at the beast's unprotected neck. Even as Uji felt the pain of loss for his friend, he blessed the man's courage.
One hand clung to his wakizashi as the other swung the katana with all his strength. Uji drove his sword into the base of the creature's skull. The oni fell. Pulling himself free of the clinging tar, Uji twisted to face the wall once more, his hakima covered in grime and blood.
"The Unicorn!" the call echoed through the palace, raised by the archers on the wall. Through the breech, Uji saw that il was true—huge steeds bearing the mon of the Shinjo Hooded the far hills of the Kakita, only a few minutes away from the walls.
Outside, the Crab milled in anger, unprepared to halt the siege. Uji heard the shout of the Crab commander outside the breach. "Take the food! Burn the palace! Retreat!"
Hida poured through the broken wall and hurled torches. The palace, the elegant gardens—beneath the oil and flame of the Crab, nothing was safe. The Daidoji within the courtyard fought valiantly, but as they did, Uji heard the great gates of Kyuden Kakita burst open, torn from their hinges by a final, massive blow from the battering ram.
The Shinjo were too late. Before the Unicorn could fully enter the battle, the palace would be in flames.
"Uji!" Kuwanan howled from the battlements, watching as the Crab poured through the open gates and into the flaming palace. "We must leave the palace before it falls and destroys us all!"
"No," Uji hissed, lifting his sword again. "NO!"
Hiruma scouts, bearing the mon of the Crab forces, released a barrage of flaming arrows toward the palace. Burning shafts lit the elaborate tile roof. Pitch-covered arrows struck the already blazing wooden walls of the inner courtyard, scattering flame throughout the palace. The grass, littered with Crab and Daidoji corpses, began to catch fire. Uji's men were being cut down by the Hida, burned within the corpse of their own fallen home.
Eyes burning from smoke and tears, Uji lifted the Daidoji hunting horn and sounded the retreat.
If they were lucky, the Crane soldiers would make it through the scattered Crab lines, using the arrival of the Unicorn to cover their escape from the ruined kyuden.
Uji turned wearily, ignoring the flames that licked at the palace walls. He fought his way out of flame and chaos.
There was nothing left to save.
xxxxxxxx
One by one, the legions gathered. Eyes searched for friends thought lost. Many had died in the combat with the Crab. Many more were burned alive in the flames of Kyuden Kakita's fall. In the distance, beyond the forest, smoke still poured from the palace's northern side. Only three hours had passed, but to Uji, it seemed an eternity.
Of the two thousand men that had manned Kyuden Kakita's walls, only one thousand had survived.
"We failed." Uji's voice was hoarse from shouting, and raw from smoke and bitterness.
"I know, Uji. One day, it will be rebuilt, with twice the grandeur and beauty of the old." Kuwanan panted, sweating from the battle as he watched the Crab armies turn beneath the sudden assault of the Unicorn troops. Pointing after them with an open hand, Kuwanan said, "It seems that the Shinjo have the upper hand against the Crab."
"May it serve them well," Uji said. "We cannot help them in their fight."
"We must gather the men and make for Kyuden Doji." No smile lit the Doji prince's face as he said, "Hoturi will be gathering an army from the north. We need to take these men, and any more we can find that escaped the Crab, and meet him there."
Looking back at the ruin of the palace, Uji shouldered his father's sword.
the falling darkness
Matsu armies swelled through the valleys of the Crane, ignoring the melting snow that churned beneath their feet. The winter had been a light one, and at the first sign of warmth, Tsuko had ordered forty thousand samurai out of Sayo Castle and toward Kyuden Doji. Spring had come at last, and it was time for revenge.
The general's name was Matsu Agetoki, a fierce, bearded man with unusual red hair and brilliant brown eyes. He was portly, but beneath the flab swelled muscles as strong as an ox's. Of all the Lion, he had been the most successful in incorporating the strange battle strategies of the Unicorn, and so he led the massed cavalry of the Lion. Their shaggy ponies struggled to keep pace with his long-legged steed. Though not of Unicorn descent, Agetoki's mount had been born in the Yobanjin Mountains, bred of gaijin lineage to a foreign people.
Agetoki quieted his restless steed, giving the mount its head as he stared up the high road toward the palace at the peak of the sea cliffs.
Kyuden Doji was massive, far larger than any other palace in the empire. It was twice as ornate, filled with the gold and artistry of a thousand years of Crane. Rising atop the sheer cliff walls of an angry ocean, it had been carved deep into the stone of the mountains. Below, waves pounded the rocks. Above, clouds thick with snow and ice blew past the high towers of the kyuden. Ancient walls, shrouded in brown, dead vines, embraced three massive towers and a white fortress. Though the kyuden was not built to withstand a long siege, the land around the palace protected it. Only one road led to Kyuden Doji's thick steel gates; one road that twisted back and forth across cliffs, hundreds of feet above a blackened sea.
The sea churned angrily against cliff shores, pounding the sand. One white boulder, the size of a peasant's hut, gleamed faintly through the spray. It was known as the Champion's Stone, final resting place of the founder of the Crane. It was also the site of the death of Doji Satsume's wife, some twenty years past.
Kyuden Doji was as ancient as the oldest stories of the empire. It had been the home of the founder of the Crane, and they would not take kindly to the Lion's assault.
Agetoki smiled. That was exactly the way he preferred it. Soon the palace would rest in Lion hands, its ocean passages and ports controlled by the mighty Tsuko. With the strength of the Lion armies and the wealth of the Crane lands, the empire would have no choice but to bow to the might of the Lion.
Inside the palace, only ten thousand Crane remained. The plague had struck their lands like an oni's blow, tearing through their paltry samurai and leaving only pus-filled bodies. Especially here, in the Doji fields, the plague had been rampant. When the Lion controlled these lands, there would be a purge of fire and ash. All signs of sickness would be destroyed along with the heimin that carried it.
Inside the palace the Daidoji general, Uji, stood firm. He had brought a thousand
troops, all rescued from the fires of Kyuden Kakita. Damn the Crab for not finishing the job to the south. Now the Lion had more men to fight—uphill, through cliffs and pounding surf. Still, fight they would, Agetoki thought, his massive chest puffing with pride. His men were Matsu, and Lion, and therefore unafraid of any challenge.
Looking over the reports once more, Agetoki gave another thought to the young Crane Champion and his band of mercenaries. To all accounts, Doji Hoturi had been collecting any men who would follow him, leaving entire villages empty. The reports, if you believed them, spoke of the Taint that followed the lord of the Crane, whispering that he brought death to those who refused his service. Perhaps there was one Crane, after all, who did not have a heart of silk and flowers.
Agetoki smiled. He hoped the reports were true, and Hoturi would attempt to bring his legions to the rescue of those in Kyuden Doji. That would be a foe worth fighting, rather than the treacherous and stinking Daidoji.
If Hoturi should come, he would relish the contest.
The Lion troops marched slowly up the steep slopes of the I )oji cliff road, ready to fight once more in the name of their champion and their honor.
XXXXXXXX
With the ocean at their back and the Lion before them, the Crane had little room to maneuver. Kuwanan ordered the archers of the Doji to the castle's wall. The bitter defeat at Kyuden Kakita still haunted his mind. At Kuwanan's signal, the Doji closed the palace gates, confident all scouts and heimin in the area were safe within the walls of the mighty-keep.
"He will come," Kuwanan shouted as he marched through the wide corridors of his childhood home. Every wall, every scent and sound of the palace was familiar—but he had never once thought he would need to defend it against a massive army of Lion. "Hoturi, Brother—where are you?"
The letter had arrived less than a week ago, commanding Kuwanan to hold Kyuden Doji at all costs. It was the only word from the Crane Champion since he had left Otosan Uchi long ago, but all the reports of the north—scattered though they were—spoke of Hoturi's armies, their great numbers and their strength. Already, he had razed three villages that had been taken by the Lion, killing Crane and Lion with a fervor not seen since the days of Satsume. Perhaps a bit harsh, thought Kuwanan, but if Hoturi had discovered that the Doji samurai of those provinces had allied with the Matsu, he could have done no less. It would all be explained when Hoturi arrived with his legions.
It would all make sense once his brother arrived.
Climbing to the top of the palace's stone steps, Kuwanan addressed the men as they prepared for the day's battle. He stood at the edge of the wall that surrounded the inner courtyard, looking down at the samurai who had gathered to defend their ancient keep. There were no gardens here, no pretty paths—only stone and sand and ten thousand bushi ready to fight against the Lion. Looking over the tiers of blue and silver, Kuwanan felt a wash of pride.
"You are Crane!" he began, his voice high and clear. "You are the cousins of the emperor, the sons of Doji and Kakita. There is no force in the empire that can overcome you. You alone have the soul of Rokugan in your hand!"
A cheer went up from the gathering. More bushi pushed their way into the courtyard.
"The Crab destroyed Kyuden Kakita with a force ten times the size of our army there. They had oni and creatures of darkness and Taint. Yet we fought, because we are Crane, and we will not bow to dishonor and Taint." A murmured agreement came from the men, accompanied by the cheers of those who had fought at Kakita palace's gray stone walls.
"When we have turned back the Lion, we will march to the fields of the emperor, and we will demand repayment for this insult. The Matsu believe they have the strength to destroy us—but a thousand years ago, when Kakita fought Matsu, it was their ancestor who fell before his sword!" Kuwanan raised his fist as a shout went through the Kakita before him. "The Lion have never forgotten that day, and we would do well to follow their example. Let them know that they are already beaten, that their troops march in vain. Their swords will falter and break before the strength of our honor!
"Less than a day's march from our walls, Doji Hoturi brings a force of ten thousand samurai!" The cheer this time shook the palace walls. Men chanted the champion's name as Kuwanan continued. "All we must do is hold the walls, as we did at Kyuden Kakita, and Hoturi-sama will be our strength! The Lion will be crushed between his might and our walls, and they will rue the day they chose to make us their enemies!"
"Ho-tu-ri! Ho-tu-ri!"
Though all those around him chanted, Uji, the black-eyed daimyo of the Daidoji, ignored the rising sound of the champion's name. Uji turned away as the men cheered, walking toward the great gates of the castle, a darker shadow in the crowd of blue-clad samurai.
"Let the Lion know that we are not afraid!" Kuwanan could barely be heard above the shouts of the men. They raised their voices again. Every fist in the palace reached for the sky. Every face lifted with joy and righteous anger. "We will show the empire that the Crane cannot be so easily defeated!"
"Ho-tu-ri! Ho-tu-ri!" yelled some. Others chanted the name Kyuden Kakita, as if its noble defeat were a talisman of victory. The bushi of Kyuden Doji reminded themselves of those who had already fallen for the honor of the Crane.
XXXXXXXX
When the Lion attacked, the Crane were ready.
Four times, the Lion hurled themselves against the Crane walls. Four times, they were forced to withdraw, their troops impaled by arrows and burning with pitch. The Crane fought like cornered tigers. Their strength unified to drive back the Matsu. Together, Doji, Kakita, and Daidoji fought. Through their unity, the Lion were unable to gain more than a foothold in the Doji cliffs.
The Lion marched up the road, using steel shields to block arrows and throwing them down when they reached the high walls. Hundreds of blue-fletched arrows thrust through the air, cascading down upon the Matsu troops. The Daidoji from Kyuden Kakita hurled spears through the Lion lines. When the Lion slowed, hot oil poured from the castle gate, rushing down the road like lava from a volcano.
Each day was torture. The Lion spent their strength against the wall, alternating legions to rest their troops. The road was covered in oil, pitch, and blood. The corpses of the dead littered the rocky ground. Still the Lion fought. They were indefatigable.
The Daidoji spent their arrows, trying to cut down the commanders of the Lion and turn their forces to chaos. The arrows began to run out and the last spears were thrown. The oil dried up. The road froze to ice, cracking beneath the tread of Lion feet and turning to hard-packed ground. The Lion advanced farther each day. Crane resistance grew weaker with each passing battle. Time was not an ally to the Crane.
Days passed, and the Lion encampment grew closer. The Matsu assaults grew bolder.
"He will come," Kuwanan said, his face blackened from smoke. A volley of Lion arrows sailed overhead, covered in burning pitch. Heimin raced from the castle with buckets of water, quick to put out any fire that threatened the castle's roof and inner buildings. Already, the few trees within the palace had been cut down for arrows and spears. The sand beneath their feet was stained with the blood of the wounded. Of ten thousand Crane, two thousand had already been lost to Lion attacks. With ladders and ropes, the Matsu had twice scaled the walls. Even though the Crane took heavy losses, they slew the invaders both times.
Another volley of Lion arrows rained down, followed by the tremendous boom of a battering ram.
"Use the last of the pitch and tar," Kuwanan ordered. "Let them remind the Lion not to approach the gates of Kyuden Doji!"
When the orders were carried out, the steel gates were blackened with fire, and the ground charred and stinking with the bodies of Matsu samurai. Even the smell of the sea below could not block the horrid stench of war.
It only kept the Lion away for a single day.
Even the stalwart Uji nearly gave up hope. He kept his sour face turned away from the men he led. It was not his place to steal their dreams of freedom an
d victory. Still his heart grew heavier as each Crane fell behind the walls.
xxxxxxxx
At sunset on the tenth day, a single rider approached over the Doji cliffs, galloping down the road through the Lion armies. He straddled a Unicorn steed. The puffing stallion covered the ground in tremendous strides. On the rider's back fluttered the tall mon of the Miya, the emperor's heralds. The Lion were forced to part and let him pass.
"By the Lady Doji," Uji breathed as he watched the emperor's messenger gallop toward the leaders of the Lion armies. "We are almost beaten, and then ..."
Suddenly, a cheer erupted from eight thousand throats, shaking the palace of the Doji. Through the midst of the Lion armies rode another army-—this one led by a young man in brilliant blue armor. His sword gleamed as he rode atop a rearing black steed.
Hoturi.
As Uji watched, the herald of the emperor dismounted and spoke to the Lion generals. Something was happening, and it did not seem to make sense. At the far side of the high plain, the new Crane army slowed, as if waiting for an unseen command. They were still too distant to make out, but at least ten thousand men marched behind the Crane Champion. The Lion nearest them began to retreat into the body of the Matsu forces, shouting with fear. Hoturi's legions marched.
"What are they doing?" Uji hissed, squinting into the light. "The herald of the emperor, here? Could this be Yoshi's doing?" Barely hoping to pray for a reprieve, Uji leaned across the battlement and tried to make out the Lion's commands.
With a bow to the emperor's herald, Matsu Agetoki climbed atop his great steed and lifted his fan to command his troops.
Suddenly, one of the Lion commanders drew his sword, leaping toward the Miya herald. Before Agetoki could shout to restore order, the herald had drawn his own sword, and the echo of their blades rang out over the massed armies of the Matsu. Twice, steel met steel. The blades shone in the sunlight. The Lion screamed in fury, raising his katana above his head to complete a massive shomen strike.
