by Ryan Kirk
Ryuu nodded.
“You could try to teach yourself that one. I know for a fact Renzo doesn’t know it, and it may give you the edge you need to beat him.”
“How could you know that?”
“Because I asked around after your duel with Tenchi. I’d never seen the attack, so I asked some of the other elders who trained with Tenchi and Renzo. No one had ever seen it. You’re the first person to have drawn it out of him.”
Ryuu nodded. It was a good idea, although he wasn’t sure how he would go about learning it. He started by trying to piece together what he did know of the technique. It was only good against people who were sense-gifted, so it had something to do with intent and action. Somehow, Tenchi had intended to strike in all directions. It had thrown off Ryuu’s sense, but only one of the strikes was the real strike.
He and Rei practiced, over and over. All around them the camp prepared for war. The men drilled, and the sound of practice swords filled the air. There was a nervousness and fear in the air pushing Ryuu to train more diligently. He struck and Rei told him how she had sensed his attack. Over and over they repeated the process, neither of them willing to give up, even though Ryuu’s progress was incremental at best.
At night, Akira summoned the two of them, and they stayed up late and talked. Ryuu told him about the Azarians moving north, but mostly they just talked. Ryuu came to realize that Akira used them to bounce ideas off of. He trusted their opinions. Mostly Ryuu realized Akira just wanted to spend time with Rei. Ryuu thought it had become a strange world.
Rei didn’t train with the same intensity Ryuu did. The battle was not her own, and she was considering leaving before the final battle was joined. Ryuu was disappointed, but he understood. He had gotten used to Rei’s companionship, and he was grateful she had raised his spirits.
At night though, when Rei thought Ryuu was asleep, she would leave the tent and go to visit Akira. The first night Ryuu sensed what the two of them did. He was surprised that he wasn’t surprised. A nightblade and a lord. That was breaking the treaty in just about every way. There was a pang of jealousy, but Ryuu pushed it aside. Rei was an adult and could do as she pleased. As attractive as she was, Ryuu was still in love with Moriko.
After the first night he didn’t try to sense her when she left. It seemed rude. One morning she came back after he was awake again, and their eyes met. He knew where she’d been, and she knew that he knew, but they never spoke of it. There wasn’t any need, and Ryuu didn’t judge. So long as she trained with him, helping him develop Tenchi’s technique, he was content.
For Ryuu, it was strange how quiet his life was when all around him the world was spinning out of control. His last few days had been a constant cycle of training and rest, preparation for his inevitable confrontation with Renzo. Rei told Ryuu that sometimes it felt like there were multiple attacks coming, just like Tenchi’s attack. It wasn’t much, but it would have to be enough. As Ryuu looked out on the scene before him, he was sure he wouldn’t have much longer to practice. He had been in the calm before the storm, but the storm was coming, and it was looking to break them all.
Ryuu stood on top of a ridgeline looking down at the valley below. Below him sat both of Tanak’s armies, spread out for a league in either direction. Behind him sat Akira’s own armies, victors in their previous engagement, but much smaller than the camp below. Between them were rolling hills. Akira’s men held the higher ground, but there were so many of Tanak’s men. Ryuu had never been able to look down on a camp like this, and he was astounded by the sight.
Tanak’s camp was a city unto itself. The smoke from the fires was oppressive, the wind blowing it into Akira’s camps. The sound of men and horses carried clear to Ryuu’s ears, and it was loud, even at this distance. Ryuu glanced behind him and measured the size of Akira’s camp. It was smaller, but still large. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like when these two armies met.
Ryuu had fought multiple opponents in his life, but he’d never been a part of organized warfare. He had a new respect for Mashiro and Makoto. There wasn’t any way he could manage or lead an army to victory. It was a skill beyond his grasp. He held on to his sword. Killing was his talent.
Ryuu didn’t want the battle to happen. He knew there was no way the battle would be anything less than devastating for the two kingdoms, but both sides were set. Ryuu had suggested Akira propose a duel for the kingdoms. Ryuu would fight for the Southern Kingdom. He had little doubt Renzo would fight for the Western Kingdom. Akira had considered it for a moment and then laughed. He said it was tempting, but he wasn’t going to trust the fate of his kingdom to a single duel.
Everything Ryuu saw screamed waste. He thought back to the last time he had tried using his sense at a distance, remembering the experience of the Azarian army moving north. He wanted to shout at Akira, let him know that army, with the power at the heart of it, was the real enemy. Both he and Rei had tried, but Akira wouldn’t change his plans. They had held the pass for many cycles, and he wasn’t worried. He believed Toro could hold the pass without a problem.
Ryuu wanted to share in Akira’s belief, but every time he sensed the Azarians, he couldn’t help but think there was something more at play here. Akira had dismissed his notions.
Ryuu sighed and turned to go back to his tent. The battle would begin tomorrow, and the valley would be bathed in blood.
That night, he and Rei were summoned to Akira’s tent. Ryuu wasn’t surprised. He assumed Akira would want to discuss their plans for the upcoming battle.
When they entered, Ryuu saw Akira was in conference with his two generals. He and Rei waited quietly while they finished their final details. The two generals left, giving the two nightblades a look Ryuu couldn’t place. It was somewhere between anger and disgust.
Akira ushered them in. He looked tired, but his back was straight and he spoke with authority. “It’s good to see both of you.” The comment seemed to be directed more at Rei than at Ryuu, but he shrugged it off.
“I’ve asked you here because I’d like your advice.”
The three of them sat down. Ryuu was intrigued. It wasn’t like Akira to ask for advice, not from him.
“There’s been news from the pass.”
Ryuu started. Ever since he’d made the decision to meet up with Akira instead of traveling further south, he had been far less diligent about tracking Moriko in the evenings. Part of it was that he was exhausted after his days of training. Another part was that he wanted to stay focused on the problems in front of him. But the biggest part was that he was scared. He wasn’t going to save Moriko, and he feared that one day he would try to sense her and she’d be gone. It was easier not to know.
“Is it Moriko?” He dared to hope she had made it back safely.
Akira shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ryuu. She traveled into Azaria, but we never heard from her again.”
Ryuu’s head dropped. Tonight, if he got the chance, he would search for her. He had to know.
Akira continued. “I received a letter from Toro today. Ryuu, your abilities did not lie to you. There is a tremendous mass of Azarians moving north to the pass. Toro’s scouts found them just a few days ago. There are more Azarians marching north than both Tanak and I combined have in the valley right now.”
“What are you going to do?”
Akira paced back and forth. “My first instinct is to fight this battle and decimate Tanak. Then I can form up all the men from both kingdoms and press them into the pass. We should be able to hold it until the snow comes, at least. Then maybe I can speak with Sen and we can cooperate. We’ve never faced a force this large, this strong before. We’ll need all the help we can get.”
Ryuu shook his head. “If you fight here, you’ll decimate both your own troops and Tanak’s. You won’t have many people left over to move down to the pass. You know that.”
Akira shrugged. “So what do you propose?”
“Surrender.”
Akira’s blade came out
and cut towards Ryuu. He sensed it coming and stepped out of the way. Akira slashed wildly, but he never came close to Ryuu. His anger spent, he stared daggers into Ryuu. “Don’t ever tell me to surrender my kingdom!”
Ryuu stepped right into his face. Akira raised his blade, but Ryuu knocked it from his hands. He slapped Akira hard across the face. He heard Rei gasp behind him. “Don’t be foolish! You’re not just talking about too many Azarians. They’re going to have hunters in that pack. Maybe not many, but enough to make their numbers even more powerful. The only way these kingdoms will have any chance at all is if you work with the other lords, not fight against them. Swallow your foolish pride and surrender your kingdom so you can save it.”
Akira stepped back as Ryuu released him. After the shock of what had happened passed, he smiled. “You certainly don’t feel the need to be on my good side, do you?”
Ryuu didn’t dignify the question with a response.
A silence stretched between the three of them. Ryuu didn’t know what else to say. If Akira didn’t want to listen to his advice, there was little else he could do. When tomorrow’s battle came, he would try to save as many lives as possible.
Ryuu was just about to offer Akira encouragement when he sensed it. Rei sensed it too. They shared a glance with one another, surprise in their eyes. Akira saw them share the glance. “What is it?”
Ryuu looked at Akira. “It’s Renzo. He’s calling for me.”
Akira looked from one nightblade to the other. He spoke to Rei. “You can do that?”
Rei replied. “He’s being a bit dramatic. Renzo is acting as a beacon, throwing out his energy so anyone sense-gifted knows where he is. However, in this situation, Ryuu is right. Renzo is calling for him.”
Akira turned Ryuu’s question back on him. “What are you going to do?”
Ryuu’s answer was certain. “Just what I told you I would do. I’m going to kill him.”
30
Moriko rode without stopping. She had no food or water, but those concerns were far less immediate than the pursuit she was confident would follow. They might not have rushed after her, but they would come. After what she had done, the hunters would hunt, and there was no place she could hide. They could afford to let their prey have a little space.
She rode hard to the north and east. She didn’t know why Nameless and his crew of hunters had been so close to the Three Sisters, but she was grateful. At most, she figured the pass was two or three days’ hard riding.
It was late afternoon when she saw them behind her. They were still a long way away, but they were gaining. She wasn’t surprised. They knew how to manage their mounts much better than she did.
It became a race between her and the hunters. Moriko’s biggest problem was that she didn’t know how far away from the pass she was. She turned more towards the foothills, hoping to find some terrain that would give her an advantage. She didn’t think she was close enough to the outpost to outrun the hunters, and she didn’t want another battle in the open plains. If she was going to fight again, she needed help. Her eyes wandered constantly through the foothills and to the pursuing hunters.
As the sun began to set, Moriko became desperate. She was already riding in hilly, rolling terrain. She was close to the mountains, but her horse was exhausted. Moriko had no grain, nothing to sustain the beast. To make matters worse, she was being cut off. As soon as the hunters had seen her riding into the foothills they split into two groups. One group kept following her, driving her across the hills. The other group cut across the prairie, taking advantage of the flat land to gain speed and cut her off.
As near as she could tell, there were four of them hunting her. She was impressed. Nameless’ speech echoed in her mind. No reason to send more than two. More than two had never been needed. But today he had sent four. Four for one, and these weren’t children. These were hunters who traveled personally with Nameless. From a nightblade’s perspective, four opponents didn’t seem like many, but she knew that four of Nameless’ personal honor guard would make short work of her. She rode harder.
Night fell and Moriko was trapped. The two hunters who had cut across the prairie were in front of her, blocking off her path to the fort. Two were behind her, pursuing her with a determination that was impressive and depressing all at the same time. Moriko had three options. She could head deeper into the mountains, trusting herself to increasingly difficult terrain. She could escape out into the plains and try to out-run her opponents, or she could stop and fight.
Fighting was out of the question. She was exhausted, her vision blurring at the edges. She was dehydrated, hungry, and wounded. Taking on any one of the hunters would be suicide unless she had some advantage. Taking on all four was a guarantee of an early death. The prairie to the south was also a poor option. The hunters had already demonstrated they were faster than her on their horses. She might prolong the inevitable, but out on the plains, her end would be certain.
So she turned towards the mountains, not sure what she was looking for, but hoping something would change the situation. She rode hard, kicking her horse one final time. It too was exhausted, but it only had a little further to go. The terrain was getting rocky and narrow, with sheer cliffs rising on every side. Her ride was almost over.
Moriko searched for any advantage. Her heart was pounding. She could feel the hunters behind her, drawing the net ever tighter. There wasn’t any choice. She chose a valley and rode for it. She was committed. There wasn’t any way back. It wasn’t long before the horse was moving slower than she could on foot. She got off, debated for a moment, and tied the horse to a tree. If she came back this way, she wanted a form of transportation.
She moved up the valley as fast as the terrain would allow. The ground was rocky and uneven, and the moon was no more than a sliver, providing little but shadows to guide her way through the unfamiliar area.
Moriko stopped. She’d covered maybe half a league, but there was something off. She examined her surroundings. One shadow in particular was darker than the surrounding shadows. Curious, Moriko moved towards it. The shadow revealed itself as a cave, a gaping blackness her sight had no chance of piercing. She threw out her sense. There was nothing in the cave, but the hunters were just a few hundred paces behind her. She didn’t have any better ideas, so she went in.
Immediately she was swallowed by darkness. She was not a child of the mountains any more than she was a child of the plains. She had experienced darkness in the deep woods of her youth, but never like this. This darkness was real, a presence she could feel brush against her skin.
Moriko swallowed her fear and walked further into the blackness, all her senses searching for information. She moved slowly, her hands running along the edge of the wall. She tried to reach for another wall, or a ceiling, but found nothing. The cave, or cave system, was big.
As her mind stopped trying to see, her sense took over, and Moriko discovered she could sense the shape of the cave. It was faint, but life grew even here. Bats, awake, hung alert on the ceiling, listening to see if she was a threat or not. Along the walls, lichen grew from trickles of water in the rock. It was not much, but it was something, and in the darkness, even the faintest of lights give hope.
Her sense wasn’t precise, but she had a decent understanding of the shape of the cave. Behind her a light flared and was quickly extinguished with a quick mutter in Azarian. Moriko didn’t know what was said, but she could guess. They trusted their sense more than they trusted their sight in the caves. She understood. Sight was unreliable. Light cast shadows that hid dangers. The sense never lied.
But, her heart quickened, it could be fooled. Here she could be their doom. She allowed her presence to seep gently from her, as though she was trying to control it but failing. They should be able to track her, but it wouldn’t be easy. If it was too easy, they might guess it was a trap. She moved deeper into the caves, delighted to find that they continued on without end.
The hunters followed her further
under the mountain. She suppressed her excitement. Focus was essential. She had the advantage, but she couldn’t underestimate her opponents. These were the most dangerous men she had ever encountered. Moriko moved as quickly as she dared, trusting to her sense of the caves. When she reached a branch, she made her move.
In her mind, the memory of the hunters sniffing the air for her was imprinted deeply. Perhaps hunters possessed not only the sense, but a heightened set of senses in general. She stripped off her clothes, tossing them down one branch of the cave. She then suppressed her presence completely and went a few paces down the other branch, hiding herself in a depression along the wall.
There was no way to track time in the caves, but it felt like it was only a few moments later when she heard and sensed the four hunters at the branch. She measured out her breathing, keeping it as silent as the grave. She went deep within herself, keeping everything inside. If they sensed anything, the trap would be ruined. She heard a sniffing sound from up the caves.
There was a moment’s pause. Then, without a word, they split up into two teams of two. Moriko cursed silently to herself. She had hoped they would all follow the scent of her clothes.
Moriko didn’t have time to move, so she froze where she was, keeping her focus as tight as she could. She sensed the first hunter walk less than a pace in front of her. She couldn’t see him at all in the perfect darkness. It seemed inconceivable that he couldn’t sense her, but he kept walking in front of her, slowly, unsure of his place in the cave.
His partner stepped in front of her as well, but stopped just a pace or two past her hiding place. Moriko held her breath. She heard him sniff softly and knew he suspected something. Keeping her focus tight within, she moved slowly, her blade in front of her. The hunter was perfectly clear to her sense, and she thrust once, killing him with one strike.
Even if the hunter had been suspicious, he hadn’t been ready. The blade went in and out and he fell to the ground with a dull thud, causing his partner to turn around in surprise. Down the other branch, Moriko could sense the other hunters noticing the death of the fourth.
