by Ryan Kirk
Moriko sat high enough that she could see them as they crested the horizon, but low enough only the sharpest eye could have seen her. When they came over the horizon, she knew they were hunters. Nameless didn’t have so much disdain for her that he’d send only regular warriors. There were five of them. The number seemed off to Moriko, but she couldn’t put her finger on why. They rode easily on horseback, but they didn’t follow any recognizable search pattern. They moved organically, covering the ground with the confidence of men who knew they could sense all the life around them.
Moriko didn’t press her luck. She burrowed into the ground where she was as far as she could go. Evening was coming. It didn’t feel like enough, but it was all the cover she was going to find. She would have to wait for evening. The only thing that kept her alive was her ability to hide herself from the sense.
That evening was one of the worst of her life. The hunters rode to and fro, not seeming to follow any pattern Moriko could follow or anticipate. Even though their movements seemed random, they covered the entire area where they had seen her, going back and forth multiple times. Eventually they gave up for the evening, setting up camp about two hundred paces from Moriko’s hiding spot.
She spent the evening giving them a wide berth and walking north and east. She pushed as far as she dared, but as soon as the sun began to peek over the horizon, she dug in again. As the day rose, the hunters were on her trail again. They covered the ground around her, and Moriko wondered if they were playing with her. Perhaps they were able to track her, simply toying with her to keep themselves entertained. She forced herself to sleep, though she feared she’d wake up with a hunter standing above her.
Moriko slept fitfully, hunters sometimes passing within two dozen paces of her. When evening came they set up camp near her again, challenging her to work her way around them again. Between the lack of sleep and the fear, she was starting to lose touch with reality. If she didn’t make a move soon, she wouldn’t be in any condition to fight them.
Moriko could have gone around the camp again, but she suspected the result would be the same. She had either been lucky so far, or they were playing with her. Either way, she couldn’t expect to reach the Three Kingdoms with the hunters pursuing her. She’d have to attack them. Fortunately, there was only a sliver of moon in the sky. Darkness would be her friend.
Moriko allowed herself to sleep for a while. She was exhausted from spending all day in fear and needed the rest. When she came to, the moon was low in the western sky. It was maybe a watch or two until dawn would break. It was a good time to strike. The night had been quiet. If she was fortunate, they wouldn’t expect her.
She glanced up through the long grass and saw their campfire still burning. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she could make out the shadow of the hunter on watch. Once she got closer she’d be able to sense them clearly.
Moriko crawled through the grass, her lithe body not even disturbing the grass. Her tongue was dry, fear threatening to ruin her movement. Two hunters had almost killed her and Ryuu. Who was she to think she could attack five and live to tell about it? Terror stopped her in her tracks. She didn’t see any other way, but this would get her killed just as surely.
She went deep inside of herself, focusing on her breath, focusing on her presence. There wasn’t any way they could sense her. They would wake when she killed the first, but she could better the odds considerably if she could get one or two before they could act. It was as good a plan as any, and if she died, at least she would go out fighting.
Moriko resumed her crawl. She stopped ten paces away from the hunter she could now sense on watch. He was making a sound it took her a moment to identify. It was sniffing. The hunter was sniffing the air and was alarmed. Moriko hesitated. How was that even possible?
Off in the distance, something flashed brightly against Moriko’s sense. She resisted the urge to spin around, knowing she wouldn’t see anything in the dark. What had that been? It was as if someone strong had existed there for just a moment and then disappeared. She didn’t have time to consider the question. Whatever it had been woke up the hunters in front of her, and there was a cry of alarm from the hunter on watch.
Moriko didn’t panic. She sank even further into the ground, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. But she knew she had gone from being the hunter to the hunted.
The hunters all came to attention in just a few moments. The man on watch growled out something Moriko couldn’t hear, but she could sense them forming a line and spreading out from their camp.
The line came Moriko’s direction. She was in the grass, but two hunters would pass only a few paces from her. She stayed, still as a rock, as deep inside herself as was possible. The hunters were not quick. They moved deliberately, and Moriko was certain she’d be found. Terror held her in place as much as her will.
The line approached her, came even with her, and passed. Moriko’s legs were burning, but she didn’t dare move a single muscle. She took a shallow breath, hoping beyond hope they’d passed her for good. Then she heard the sniffing sound again. How could they possibly smell her? She couldn’t smell anything besides prairie out here.
One of the hunters who had passed right next to her turned, curious about something. Moriko held her breath again, but she feared it wouldn’t matter. She would be found. It was only a matter of time.
They took a step towards her, and something in her snapped. The fear erupted into anger, and it consumed her. She was angrier than she had ever been in her life. Even when she was beaten at the monastery, she hadn’t been this angry. She had worked so hard and had gotten so far, she wasn’t going to give up now, not when she was only a few days away from the pass. If sneaking didn’t work, there was always killing. She jumped to her feet, sword drawn in one smooth, arcing motion that took off the head of the hunter who had stopped only a pace away. One more step and she made another cut, killing a second hunter before they had time to react.
She thought about diving into the grass, but everyone was too close. Hiding was no longer an option. Too angry to give up, Moriko stood up defiantly, a lone nightblade in a circle of three hunters. She glanced around in surprise. Now that she was seeing them for the first time up close she saw they were boys. Two of them couldn’t have seen more than sixteen cycles, although the third was a man older than Moriko. She cursed. She was being run to ground by hunters on a training run. They hadn’t even had enough respect for her to send mature, seasoned warriors. Her joy at killing the first two diminished, but she didn’t hesitate. She’d kill them all before the night was over.
The first boy attacked. He was unreasonably fast, but Moriko snapped and the world slowed down. She moved with grace and power, evading his cuts and returning hers in kind. They passed and passed, but Moriko wasn’t given an opportunity to gain the upper hand. The other boy and the man moved in, and the battle was joined.
Even snapped and in the darkness, it was all Moriko could do to keep up with the strikes of the three hunters. She had thought it would be easy to defeat the boys, but each of their cuts shattered that illusion. They were young, fast, and strong. What they lacked in experience they made up in enthusiasm, and any time Moriko sensed an opening, the older hunter was always there, blocking her strikes.
It was only Moriko’s talent for hiding her presence that kept her alive. In the darkness of the night, the hunters couldn’t sense what she was doing and were forced to rely on their sight. Moriko knew if she could have just a moment alone with any one of them the fight would be over.
She wasn’t the only person getting frustrated. One of the boys struck at her with incredible force. She deflected the cut and moved inside his guard. She could sense the more experienced hunter coming to the boy’s rescue. Moriko couldn’t let it happen, not this time. She drove her elbow into the boy’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Bending her legs, Moriko got underneath him and pushed forward, trying to get the two of them away from the center of the fight. The older hunt
er pursued and Moriko knew she only had a few moments before they were caught. The boy tried to stay on his feet, dizzied from the hits he’d taken. He’d regain his balance in a moment.
In the moment she had, Moriko let go of her sword with her left hand. The boy felt the shift and moved to strike, but in the one heartbeat, Moriko grabbed a throwing knife from her hip and stabbed it into his gut. Once, twice, five times, as fast as she could punch him with it.
Then the moment was over and the older hunter was upon them. Moriko stopped and turned. She let go of the knife and tried to bring her hand to her blade, but there wasn’t enough time. The hunter’s strike landed with tremendous force, knocking the blade straight out of Moriko’s hands. It spun into the ground and Moriko was grabbing for a second knife. She felt the hunter’s sword cut into her left shoulder, but she had no idea how deep it was. Despite the pain, Moriko grabbed a second knife with her left hand and thrust it under the hunter’s chin.
As the hunter fell, Moriko sensed the attack of the final boy. He leapt in the air, certain of his killing strike. Moriko couldn’t use her left arm, but she grabbed the blade from the older hunter and leapt at the boy. He wasn’t expecting her attack, not realizing his master was dead. Moriko’s cut was clean and the boy landed in a heap on the ground.
Moriko stood up just in time to sense the first young man pull her knife from his stomach and throw it at her. It was a weak throw, and Moriko caught it easily. She studied the young man, impressed by his courage. He was clearly dying, but hadn’t given up. Moriko retrieved her sword and ended his life with one clean cut. It was what he deserved.
When her world snapped back into order, Moriko was standing over the bodies of all the hunters that had been after her. She smiled. It didn’t matter to her that they were boys. She had won. She stared down at her sword, disgusted at the sight of blood on it. With a quick motion, she flicked it off the blade and found a clean piece of cloth on one of the hunters. She ripped it off his dead body and used it to clean her sword. She tossed the used rag onto the ground and looked around. The power of her blade was intoxicating. She had killed five hunters on her own. She hadn’t even realized how strong she’d become.
Her sword taken care of, Moriko looked to her shoulder. She realized, as she looked down, that she had been cut several times. She examined her body. None of the wounds were fatal. The shoulder was the worst, but even that cut had been shallower than she’d first thought. A day or two and it should be fine.
She looked around. She could see the camp of the hunters a little ways away. There would be plenty of food there. There were horses too. From here it was a sprint to the Three Sisters, and all that mattered was speed. Moriko was free. She started walking back to the camp, eager to eat.
When the shadow came up in front of her, she was too surprised to even react. She hadn’t sensed anything at all. He was a giant of a man, and in the moment she had, Moriko flashed back to her memories of the other hunters she had faced back in the Three Kingdoms. This man was like them. She knew what had been off about five hunters. They always traveled in pairs. She wasn’t given any time to rejoice about her discovery. His fist moved with inhuman speed, and Moriko’s world went instantly black.
27
The morning after the duel, Ryuu and Rei left the island without much fanfare. Many people had approached Ryuu after the fight, either to introduce themselves or to say goodbye. Ryuu had met a lot of blades, and remembered a few names, but he was saddened he didn’t have the time to know them better. Most of his time on the island had been spent with Tenchi or in training. Far too little of it had been spent getting to know the other inhabitants, the thousands of others who shared his gift.
Tenchi and Shika were at the docks to bid them farewell. Ryuu thanked Tenchi sincerely for all the guidance. He still felt like there was much more on the island to learn, more secrets he hadn’t uncovered, but he was called south. Moriko needed him.
His parting words with Shika were short. She wished him well.
“Like Tenchi, I also hope you return to us. But when you do, I won’t let you defeat me again.”
With a final wave they were off, Ryuu relaxing into the back of the ship for the trip back to the Three Kingdoms. He took one last glance at the island as they sailed away, but then pushed the memories out of his mind. It was time to move forward. He laid back and closed his eyes. Good rest would be hard to find once they were on the road.
They arrived at the Three Kingdoms without incident. Ryuu had spent the voyage resting and relaxing, giving his body the break it needed after a season of grueling training. Rei was a different story altogether. She was excited by everything she saw and experienced. When Ryuu wasn’t sleeping, he was busy answering more questions than he thought possible for a single person to have. Many of the questions were easy to answer, questions about the day-to-day behavior of those who lived in the kingdoms. But there was much he didn’t know about history, politics or culture. Rei made him realize how much he didn’t know about the Three Kingdoms. He had grown up in relative isolation.
They docked and Ryuu found the Southern Kingdom’s embassy in Highgate. Flashing his letter from Lord Akira, he borrowed horses and supplies for the journey back. They wasted no time, Ryuu pushing them out of the city as soon as they had supplies. The disappointment on Rei’s face was obvious, but Ryuu couldn’t care less. He was here for one purpose only, to get to Moriko. There would be time for Rei to be a tourist later. They rode hard for the first few days, maintaining the fastest pace the horses could keep up.
Eventually, Ryuu had to slow the pace, even though it pained him to do so. The horses were getting tired too fast. They kept moving, but Ryuu wanted to do nothing more than to kick his horse into a full gallop until it collapsed from exhaustion. They were returning much faster than Ryuu had left, but it still wasn’t fast enough for him. Tenchi’s assessment of a full moon of travel didn’t seem to be as far off as Ryuu had hoped.
Rei’s stream of questions was constant, and Ryuu was grateful. Her enthusiasm kept him moving forward, kept him optimistic. It was hard to be around her and not wonder at the simple majesty of new places. Occasionally, Ryuu was able to insert one of his own questions, like one that had been bothering him the entire time he was on the island.
“If you agree with Shika so much about nightblades returning to the Three Kingdoms, why does Tenchi devote so much attention to you?”
Rei paused to consider the question, as though she had never thought of it. “It’s not that I agree or disagree with either one of them. When you think about it, both of them want to return to the Three Kingdoms. Every blade wants to come back. Something about this land calls us home. They only disagree as to the timing.”
Her answer gave Ryuu pause. He hadn’t ever thought of it in that way. Her answer reminded him he still had a lot to learn about the blades. They viewed the world in a manner fundamentally different than he did.
The leagues passed under foot and hoof. There was conversation when possible, but there were also prolonged periods of silence, silence Ryuu appreciated. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to speak with Rei, but he had a lot on his mind, and travel was one of the few times he had to make decisions, to think his plans through. Tenchi’s words before the duel had gotten under his skin. He’d never been talked down to like that, and it affected him more than he cared to admit.
When he wasn’t answering Rei’s questions, there was only one concern running through his mind, over and over again. What should he do next?
He had left the island with a clear purpose, to rescue Moriko, no matter what obstacles he faced. But as they traveled farther south, his mind filled with doubts, and he was no longer as certain as he had been when he first sensed her in danger.
Tenchi’s words had been the spark. He had made Ryuu question his decisions, his motivations. Ryuu’s heart kept shouting that he needed to go rescue Moriko, but his mind kept whispering that he needed to think it through. The debate raged viciously
in his mind, racking him with indecision.
His mind was a giant scale, weighing his feelings. He loved Moriko, and he had sworn to protect her. He felt responsible for the trouble she had found. If it hadn’t been for him, she never would have agreed to go down to Azaria to scout. A part of him was convinced that if he had gotten her into this, it was his responsibility to get her out.
But there were whispers of discontent within his mind, a whisper that said he wasn’t thinking clearly. The armies of the Southern Kingdom were being decimated, forced to retreat over and over again. He could influence the course of events there, but not if he traveled to Azaria to save Moriko. It came down to a choice between the Southern Kingdom and the woman he loved.
Ryuu didn’t believe he could single-handedly change the course of a war, but he was certain he could save lives. If the Azarians were plotting to invade the kingdom, as his sense told him was happening, every life he saved would be a life that could stand against a much greater threat than the petty civil war currently raging. He worried that saving Moriko would doom the kingdom.
During the ride, he often reflected on his conversations with Shigeru after Takako had been kidnapped. He had been adamant that he should rescue her. He had believed if it was in his power to save even one person, it was his responsibility to do so. Shigeru had seen the error of the thought, had suspected Ryuu’s actions would have consequences far beyond what he could anticipate. He had warned Ryuu against it, but had gone along in the end, sentencing himself to death. Ryuu wondered sometimes if Shigeru had somehow guessed how events would unfold, if he had gone forward knowing what was in store for him. Why had he allowed him to take the risk? It was a question he would never know the answer to.
Either way, his decision had gotten Shigeru killed. Ryuu had accepted that responsibility. Was he making the same decision again, the same mistake? The first time he had sacrificed everything to go after one person. Now he was considering sacrificing the entire kingdom to save Moriko. The Great Cycle turned again, and Ryuu was as lost as he had been as a child.
