Lion blood stained the land dark and ran in crimson rivers down to the sea. More blood than the oceans. Her people's blood. Her blood. Endlessly.
Tsuko couldn't rip her eyes away from the carnage. Unfelt tears streamed down her face. No amount of tears could wash this blood from her soul, though. There wasn't enough water in all the world to erase this stain.
When the sun finally set behind the distant mountains, Matsu Tsuko thanked the gods for the darkness.
THE UNICORN
Utaku Kamoko spurred her stallion over the hedge and forded the muddy stream beyond. Several armored Battle Maidens rode beside her, taking the stream as easily as their daimyo. A cry of joy escaped Kamoko's throat. The noise pierced the crisp, early spring air and shook flurries of snow from the withered branches of the awakening forest. The wind whipped Kamoko's long black hair behind her and tugged at the purple silk of her kimono. Her bejeweled armor rattled softly as she rode, music to the Utaku daimyo's battle-bred ears.
The bandits the Unicorn pursued broke into several smaller groups and scattered toward the snowy pine forest. The robbers were on foot but had a big head start on the mounted samurai.
"Split up," Kamoko called to her friends. "We'll teach them the price of their actions!" "Hai, Kamoko-sama," Tetsuko called back. Kamoko turned to the young woman and
smiled. Not too long ago, Tetsuko had been little more than a child. Now, though, she was a tested veteran, worthy of her own command. Tetsuko's armor shimmered in the early morning light. Her topknot blew behind her, echoing the mane and tail of her proud steed.
"Keep yourself out of trouble, colt," Kamoko said playfully.
"Trouble, ha!" Tetsuko replied. "It's our enemies who should be worried about that."
"I'm sure they are," Kamoko said. She spurred her horse and split away from the main group, chasing the bandit leader. Tetsuko waved to her and veered away as well.
Pride and joy lit the Utaku daimyo's smile. Perhaps her clan could not overthrow the Shadowlands forces oppressing Rokugan, but—by Shinjo—they could fight the darkness wherever they found it. The other clans may have chosen to ignore the suffering of peasants, but that was something the Unicorn would never do.
The bandit she chased was Shibooichi, the Fat One—an infamous local bully. Since the Scorpion Coup, he had lorded over the farm villages on the south side of the Drowned Merchant River. Shiboo thought that the position of these settlements, between the provinces of the Unicorn, Dragon, and Lion, kept him safe from reprisals. The emperor's Emerald Magistrates were generally too busy to take notice of one such as he.
The Unicorn had noticed, though, and Kamoko had taken it upon herself to bring the bandit to account.
Before her, Shiboo bounded like a fat deer, fleeing into the trees. He was surprisingly quick for a man his size, a head taller than the Unicorn commander and three times her girth. Evidently, he had some brains, too. Unicorn horses would be at a disadvantage in the snow-dappled forest, and the way the fat man maneuvered among the trees, it was clear he knew the woods well. Perhaps Shiboo and his men thought they could evade Kamoko and her samurai. If so, the bandits had another think coming.
Kamoko spurred her steed into the pine forest. Shiboo disappeared into the underbrush well ahead of her. Her horse's hooves slid slightly on the melting snow, but the animals years of expe-i ience helped him recover. He bore his mistress quickly through I he tall timbers, deftly avoiding the low-hanging branches that might have unseated Kamoko.
The Unicorn commander clucked encouragement to her steed and patted his neck. She kept her eyes fastened on Shiboo's retreating footprints. He can't be far ahead now, she told herself. A man that fat can't run forever.
Shiboo's marks took a sharp right turn, between some small boulders and up a heavily wooded hill. Kamoko tugged on the reins and shot after him. Ahead, she saw the bandit's corpulent lorm laboring through the wet snow. Kamoko smiled.
A tall sapling suddenly snapped before her, showering her face with snowflakes. Kamoko's steed reared. He stumbled, tripped over the bent tree, and almost went down. Kamoko held tight to the reins, trying to keep her seat.
Bandits sprang from the rocks on either side of the trail. Strong hands seized Kamoko's armor and pulled her from the saddle. The Unicorn commander fell to the ground and hit her skull on a rock. Only her helmet kept the blow from being fatal.
Kamoko's head swam, and strange music whistled in her ears. More by instinct than intent, she drew her katana. She cut blindly and felt gratified when the sword hit flesh. A man squealed, and the crowd around her parted.
The Utaku daimyo's sight cleared, and she saw about ten straggly ronin surrounding her. One man held the remains of his arm and screamed; the limb had been lopped off below the elbow. The severed hand lay in the snow near her feet.
Shiboo advanced downhill toward her. Beside him lay her steed, whether unconscious or dead Kamoko couldn't tell.
"You didn't count on my having friends in these woods," the fat man said, his rumbling voice filled with malice. He nodded at Kamoko and said, "Kill her."
The ronin bandits swarmed around her.
Kamoko lashed out with her sword and took a bandit down. A second she smashed in the face with her elbow. Two men tried to gut her with rusty spears, but she chopped the hafts off as they jabbed at her.
Shiboo picked up a rotting tree trunk and bore in, swinging the log like a club.
Kamoko darted out of the way and tried to slice open the bandit leader's belly. Shiboo tripped one of his men so that the unlucky fellow landed on Kamoko's sword. The katana stuck in the dead man's rusting armor.
Shiboo's club smashed down on Kamoko's left shoulder, barely missing her head.
The Unicorn reeled back, hearing the strange, piping music, closer now. If the bandits heard it, they paid no attention. They kept bearing in, trying to kill her. She ducked and dodged, kicking one and punching another. They fell back. She put her foot on the dead man and wrenched her blade out of his gut.
The Fat One swung again, clipping her chin. Spots flashed before Kamoko's eyes.
The Unicorn fell back against a boulder, slashing with her sword, cutting another man in two. Blood gurgled out of his mouth as he died. She ducked away from Shiboo's next blow. The rock at Kamoko's back shook with the impact. Her head throbbed, and her arm ached. Flashing spots danced before her eyes.
She swung again and sliced a deep gash in Shiboo's thigh.
"Bitch!" Shiboo bellowed. "I'll kill you for that!"
Kamoko almost smiled. "You were going to kill me anyway," she said, tasting her own blood in her mouth. She kicked one of the fat man's cohorts in the stomach; the bandit tumbled back into his leader.
The Battle Maiden saw her chance. She darted between two of the bandits and back down the trail the way she'd come. Luck wasn't with her, though. Her sandal caught on a rock, and she tumbled face-first into the slush.
She rolled over quickly, but as she did, a bandit thrust his broken spear through the kimono under her left arm, pinning her to the ground.
Arr! Missed!" the man said, spit flying from his chapped lips.
K.imoko thrust her sword at him, but he backed out of the way. Another spear jabbed at her. She batted it aside and, on the return stroke, beheaded its wielder. The rest of the bandits kept their distance after that, and for a moment, Kamoko thought she might be able to pull the spear out and escape.
Then a stone struck her temple, just under her helm. Light exploded behind her eyes. Before she could gasp a breath, Shiboo's club smashed into her stomach. Other blows rained on her body—not swords, but rocks, long sticks, anything that could keep the wielder out of range of her deadly sword.
finally, Shiboo struck the katana from her hand. Kamoko heard it land on the snow downhill.
The eerie music welled up in her mind once more.
The bandits crowded in, surrounding her. Shiboo and his half dozen cronies leered down at her, like hyenas moving in for the kill. The chapped-l
ips man drew a rusty tanto from his belt. I If leaned down to cut Kamoko's throat, but Shiboo stopped him.
"No," the Fat One said. "Plenty of time to kill her later. We'll lake her back to our lair first—find out how well she screams."
The others chuckled violently.
Kamoko's head felt as though it were filled with caterpillar silk. Her stomach rolled slowly. She tried to stand, to cry out, to do anything, but her body wouldn't obey. The music in her ears suddenly stopped, and she feared she might pass out.
"Drag her to the hideout," Shiboo commanded, pointing uphill with one beefy arm.
The order had barely left his lips when a stout staff came crashing down on his head. Shiboo fell like a sack of millet, landing on his face and leaving a huge dent in the snow.
The chapped-lip man whirled and got a spear point through the eye for his trouble.
A lithe figure leapt over Kamoko's body and laid into the remaining bandits. The man's green cloak obscured the Unicorn's vision, and she heard the sounds of combat.
Bandit voices cried out and then quickly died away. Soon, silence filled the snowy forest.
The ronin warrior leaned over Kamoko and looked into her eyes. "You shouldn't go charging off alone like that," he said gently. "One day, it may get you killed."
"Wh-who are you?" Kamoko managed to gasp. Her world still looked blurry around the edges.
"Just a friend," the ronin said. The shadow from his hood made his face impossible to see, but his smiling teeth shone in the gloom. "I need you to remember something."
Kamoko nodded weakly.
"The time is near. You must come when called. Do you understand?"
Kamoko nodded again.
"Good," said the Hooded Ronin. He stood up, lifting his staff. One end was carved into a flute, and the other featured a spear point. He pressed a hidden stud, and the blade slid back into the staff. "You'll be all right," he said, his voice deep and sonorous. "It's a good thing your friends are nearby, though. Remember what you learned today."
Kamoko tried to say that she would, but no sounds came out.
The ronin nodded. "Good-bye, then. I'll see you again when the time comes." He stepped out of her sight, and the world went dark.
A warm, damp cloth pressed against Kamoko's face, and she heard the sounds of horsemen nearby. She tried to brush the cloth away, but it came back persistently. Annoyed, the Utaku daimyo snatched out. She caught not a cloth, but a tongue—the tongue of her faithful stallion. Kamoko smiled, and her heart filled with joy that her steed had not been killed by the bandits.
The bandits!
Kamoko sat up so quickly that her head throbbed. She looked around frantically. The broken spear that had pinned her was lying on the ground by her side. Next to it rested her katana.
The criminals she had been chasing lay in a rough circle around her. Most of them were dead, but some few—including Shiboo—lived. None would be waking anytime soon.
As the Unicorn leader's wits returned, she heard horses galloping uphill toward her. Tetsuko reigned in beside her commander and jumped from the saddle.
"Kamoko-sama," the young Battle Maiden said, "are you all i ight?" Tetsuko knelt down beside her commander. Concern Hashed in the young Battle Maiden's eyes.
"Where's the man who saved me?" the Utaku daimyo asked.
Tetsuko stood and scanned the forest. "I don't see anyone else around. Are you sure you saw someone? That's a pretty big dent m your helmet."
Kamoko took off her helm and looked at it. Sure enough, it was a very big dent. "You think I killed all these men by myself, I lien?"
Tetsuko shrugged. "You could have. I've heard of wounded iiattle Maidens killing a dozen men to save their own lives—or the lives of their loved ones. Some didn't remember anything afterward."
"Hai. I've heard those tales, too. That's not what happened this time, though. A hooded man saved my life."
"If you say so, Kamoko-sama."
Kamoko looked at her young charge and frowned. "He had a message for me. He said that the time was near and that I must come when called."
"Perhaps it was a holy vision," Tetsuko offered.
The Unicorn commander tried to stand, but faltered. Tetsuko put her hand under Kamoko's elbow and helped her up.
"A holy vision," Kamoko said thoughtfully. "I suppose it could have been. I've dreamed of the Great Dragon lately, but this man seemed far more . . . worldly. " She stretched her stiff, bruised limbs. "If he was a vision, I'm glad he carried a big stick."
Tetsuko prodded the unconscious form of Shiboo with her toe. "What should we do with this sack of dung?"
"We'll take him back to town and leave him for the local Emerald Magistrate to administer justice," Kamoko replied. As she leaned against her horse, her head began to clear.
"And these others? A few of them are still alive."
"Arrange for someone to drag them into town when we get hack to camp," the Unicorn said sternly. "Have them build some litters. These scum aren't worth sullying our horses with."
Working together, the Battle Maidens soon slung Shibooichi over the back of Tetsuko's steed. Then both of them mounted their horses and rode with their captive back toward the Unicorn encampment.
"And to think," Tetsuko said playfully, "it was you who told me to be careful."
"Hai," Kamoko replied, rubbing her head. "I guess I'll have to take my own advice from now on."
THE CRANE
Doji Hoturi strode purposefully through the blasted landscape, his clear brown eyes taking in every detail. Before him stretched the ruins of Kyuden Doji. The scorched timbers from its high towers lay scattered on the rocky ground like kindling. All that remained of its stone walls were piles of rubble. The smell of death hung in the spring air like an invisible fog. The odor seeped into his lungs and clouded his brain.
Beside the Crane daimyo, the Black Lion rode into the ruins. Toturi kept his face impassive, but his heart ached for his friend's loss. Even Toku, riding with his master, kept silent; this was neither the time nor the place for jests. On the far side of them rode the Phoenix general, Shiba Tsukune. The samurai-ko's black hair drifted gently in the evening breeze; the golden birds on her kimono winked and sparkled in the waning light.
The false Hoturi had been overthrown.
Order had been restored to the Crane provinces. Together with Toturi's ronin troops and Shiba Tsukune's army, Hoturi and his people had achieved a great victory over their Shadowlands oppressors. The imposter Hoturi was dead; the clan was free once more. The cost, though, had been terrible. It would take years to rebuild the Crane homeland.
"I'm sorry I did not come here sooner," Toturi said.
Tsukune looked at the ronin lord and nodded grimly. Many of her people had died waiting for reinforcements.
"Don't blame yourself," Hoturi said to the Black Lion. "If this is anyone's fault, it's mine."
"How could it be your fault?" blurted Toku. "You couldn't know that an evil double would take your place and run amok in your homeland."
"The boy is right," said Toturi. "No one could foresee this."
Hoturi nodded, but in his heart he knew they were wrong.
He had coveted Bayushi Kachiko, the Scorpion's wife. That mad love had cost him everything: his marriage, his honor, his homeland—and even the son he never knew, Bayushi Dairu. Hoturi had slain the boy, thinking to strike at the Scorpion, not suspecting the child was his own flesh.
Dairu's death had set the destruction of the Crane in motion. Kachiko had used Hoturi's lust to trap him and replace him with an evil double. Now his land was as dead as his son. Hoturi could not blame anyone for the destruction but himself. Hoturi had taken everything from Kachiko; now she did the same to him.
The damnable thing was that part of him still loved her. Oh, he no longer burned for her as a boy does for a maiden, but he could not deny his lingering feelings. Hoturi loved Kachiko; he would always love her, even if all she felt for him was hate. Even if their love could bri
ng only tragedy.
The Crane daimyo silently cursed his own weakness.
Toturi's strong voice broke Hoturi's reverie. "I hate to say this," the Black Lion said, "but I must move on. There are other places, other people, who need my sword."
Hoturi nodded. "I understand."
"We'll meet again soon, I'm sure," Toku said cheerfully.
He scratched the back of his shaggy head and yawned.
"Sooner than any of us would like, I fear," Toturi added.
"Hai," Hoturi said. He gazed out over the palace ruins toward the sea. On the horizon, a spring thunderstorm roiled and brewed. Soon, it would come ashore. He turned back to his Iriend. "Ride safely. May Amaterasu guide your steps."
"And yours," Toturi replied. He spurred his horse to the northwest, away from the shattered city. Toturi's troops fell behind him in neat ranks.
"Bye," Toku said. "Good luck, Hoturi-san." He waved at the I >ane daimyo, and then turned and followed his master.
A slight smile tugged at Hoturi's lips. Shiba Tsukune reined her horse in beside the Crane daimyo. She looked at her friend, her brown eyes sparkling. "I see great things for that one, some day," she said.
"Toku?" Hoturi asked skeptically. "He's just a boy pretending to be a samurai."
"Boys grow into men," Tsukune said. "At least, most of them do." She caught Hoturi's eyes, and both of them chuckled. The daimyo and the Shiba general had been friends—and occasional lovers—since their teens. Hoturi felt glad to have her at his side, if only briefly.
"I should be going, too," she said, gazing off into the distance. "Ujimitsu said things were amiss in our homeland, and I fear what I may find when I return home."
Hoturi nodded. "Will you stay for tea?"
"If I stopped for tea, I'd stay for more," she said jovially. "I really must be going."
"I understand," Hoturi said. He meant it, but his heart felt lonelier at the prospect.
"When this is over, perhaps we can get together," she said.
'7/this is ever over," Hoturi replied.
"It will be," Tsukune said. The setting sun caught her black hair and made it shine golden. "Winter may be clinging past its time, but it's loosing its grip even now. Amaterasu won't allow cold and darkness to dominate her world forever. That's why Fu Leng can't win in the end—even though he has a toehold on
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