The Twilight War

by Simon Higgins

  Eagle wagged his head. ‘A chance we have to take. Don’t worry, our boundary guards and hidden alarms remain in place.’ Despite his heartening tone, dread flickered in Eagle’s eyes. ‘It was a close decision, but the risk was justified. The Shogun, you see, believes that the web of treason against him now widens fast, drawing in more disloyal nobles and rich, opportunistic merchants. It was our master himself who sent me a lengthy list of names – fresh suspects – that he fears may have joined this conspiracy. His concerns demand urgent action of course, and …’ He paused. ‘I’m afraid there is more.’

  A flurry of uneasy looks crossed the brief silence. Eagle noted them and went on.

  ‘Another rumour came my way yesterday which must also be evaluated quickly. If it proves true, it will change everything.’ Eagle looked straight at Moonshadow. ‘Your first mission ignited several sparks. It made Silver Wolf your sworn enemy, and triggered his little scheme involving the White Nun. Happily, it brought Snowhawk into our fold. But it also saw you face – and, as far as we know, defeat – the legendary assassin called The Deathless.’

  ‘With a little help from a certain oddball temple cat,’ Snowhawk reminded them, glancing sideways at Badger. She held up her palms. ‘I was there, but too badly hurt to fight, and Moon needed all the help he could get. After all, that man was immune to regular sword-cuts!’ She shook her head. ‘A ruthless creature, too. They say he killed his own master, Koga Danjo, the very one who taught him that immunity to blades.’

  ‘Danjo,’ Heron nodded, ‘a ninja master rumoured to be three hundred years old.’

  ‘Yes,’ Eagle said. ‘Until supposedly murdered by The Deathless.’ He folded his arms. ‘Well, here it is: I now have reason to believe that Koga Danjo … is alive.’

  Snowhawk grimaced. Heron gasped softly. The others were silent, stony-faced.

  An image flashed through Moonshadow’s mind that set his heart pounding. He saw a rope bridge spanning a rocky gorge, The Deathless standing in the centre of it, beckoning him, glaring with soulless eyes. If Koga Danjo lived, then what about his most famous pupil? True, Moonshadow and Snowhawk had narrowly escaped The Deathless, but his destruction had been assumed, not proven. What if he too was alive?

  ‘Fine! Let’s say Koga Danjo lives.’ Badger snorted. ‘How does this concern us?’

  ‘Because of who he now serves,’ Eagle said testily. ‘We know that Silver Wolf plots to kill our master the Shogun and take his place. His wiles alone are burden enough to deal with. But it seems there may be another contender for the Shogun’s office. A warlord from a western province, whose name, as yet, my sources have not learned.’

  ‘Hah!’ Badger waved a hand in the air. ‘Hardly a problem. These two rebel warlords will kill each other off, or Silver Wolf will crush this fellow for us – easily!’

  ‘Not when his rival’s bodyguard,’ Eagle sighed, ‘is the immortal Koga Danjo.’

  ‘Koga Danjo is his bodyguard?’ Heron narrowed her eyes. Eagle nodded.

  ‘They say that this Danjo,’ Mantis added reflectively, ‘is the last great warrior wizard, a survivor of bygone times.’ He glanced at Moonshadow. ‘A powerful sorcerer.’

  Everyone fell silent. Dread filled Moonshadow. He thought of all the wondrous encouragement the White Nun had given him, the hours of sword training he had received since the rescue mission to her dangerous mountain, and of his developing prowess with the Eye of the Beast skill. All strong grounds for confidence, yet this morning’s news had instantly snatched his away.

  Why did he feel so troubled? Again the rope bridge loomed in his mind’s eye.

  The kitchen was warm but a chill passed through Moonshadow and he shivered.

  He had faced The Deathless and barely survived. And that was merely the pupil.

  What if his destiny was to one day face Koga Danjo? He was the master.

  A circle of torches set on bamboo poles lit the clearing in the monastery’s largest garden.

  Drenched with sweat after sparring hard with Groundspider, Moonshadow propped his bokken against a sculpted tree and sat down on a nearby rock to watch Snowhawk take her turn. Pressure on his feet made him look down. Banken had slipped out of the gloom and was making herself comfortable. She looked up at him expectantly.

  ‘Fine, you can watch too,’ he told the cat. ‘Just don’t cause any trouble.’

  Snowhawk hefted a bokken in her hands, adjusting to its weight as she entered the circle of torches. Packed gravel crunched under Groundspider’s big sandals as he stalked into the combat area opposite her, swishing his wooden sword left and right.

  ‘So you feel like some pain this evening?’ Snowhawk smiled coolly. ‘You could just surrender instead.’ She winked at Moonshadow then looked back to Groundspider. ‘Should I turn my back when we start, let you attack from behind – to make it fairer?’

  ‘Keep talking.’ Groundspider grinned menacingly. ‘Soon you’ll be whimpering.’ His face abruptly tightened. ‘Wait, I almost forgot. Before we spar, I’m supposed to show you some new moves. A waza that Mantis said the Fuma don’t learn. It’s called shinobu. It’s a specialised attack to be used against sentries at night.’

  Snowhawk shrugged. ‘Fine, show me then. It’ll also delay your suffering.’

  Groundspider sneered down at her, then exchanged his bokken for a real sword. ‘Moon, you do this waza perfectly … partly because Mantis himself showed it to you, but also because sparring with me refined your technique, right?’ He held the weapon out. ‘So let’s educate Snowhawk. Please demonstrate the waza. I’ll play the guard.’

  Moonshadow gently lifted Banken and placed her on the rock, then bowed to the sheathed sword before sliding it under his belt. ‘Shinobu,’ he explained, ‘the waza named after us, the people of the shadows, because although some samurai learn it too, shinobu is all about stealth and misdirection, our chosen way of combat … if we have a choice.’

  ‘Yeah, yeah,’ Groundspider sniffed. ‘Just let her see the technique.’ He patted his huge chest. ‘So I’m the sentry! I’ll stand next to that very dark patch, there, just off the gravel.’ He paced to the spot. ‘Now, acting like a regular guard, I’ll face this way.’ Groundspider looked back over his shoulder at Snowhawk. ‘Moon will start in the centre of the dark patch, like he’s snuck up on me using the shadows.’ Snowhawk nodded.

  Moonshadow took up a low, balanced stance inside the murky patch. Moving with silent grace, he kept low as he drew the sword from his left hip. Deftly he swept it up and over his head, then down into a crescent movement, stepping to the left as the weapon passed his right leg. Still in a crouch, Moonshadow turned the blade, and with the flat of its tip, tapped the ground a pace and a half inside the finger of shadow.

  Reacting just as a real guard would, Groundspider turned quickly, his eyes searching for the source of the sound. Though unarmed, he locked his gaze on the very area the noise had come from, then mimed smoothly drawing his own hip-mounted katana. Lunging forward, Groundspider struck with his imaginary long sword, implying a powerful, vertical killing stroke.

  Groundspider’s phantom cut nailed the sound’s exact point of origin, but Moonshadow was not there. He was off to one side, staying low, coiled in the darkness like a snake waiting to strike. The instant Groundspider had completed his forceful, single-stroke attack, Moonshadow rose and sprang forward to reply with a whistling vertical cut of his own. Snowhawk grinned and nodded as the tip of Moonshadow’s blade froze a fingernail’s width above Groundspider’s unprotected shoulder. The big ninja didn’t even flinch. Moonshadow gestured shaking the blade clean, then sheathed it.

  Banken let out a meow as if showing her approval of the strange human game.

  Groundspider stretched and yawned. ‘You see? He may be skinny, gullible and a maker of foul gas when he’s eaten eel, but his sword work is perfect.’

  Moonshadow instantly wished a plague of deathless lice would overrun Groundspider’s bedroll. His eyes lit up. Could he make that happen, using t
he Eye of the Beast? Eagle had told him that insect minds were too simple. Still, he could try …

  ‘See what you can do,’ Moonshadow took the sword from his belt, bowed to it, then held the weapon out to Snowhawk. She bowed to the blade and prepared herself.

  ‘Don’t worry if you find it awkward at first,’ Groundspider said. ‘Even I did.’

  ‘Uh-huh,’ Snowhawk said, taking her place in the dark patch.

  Groundspider turned away. As Moonshadow looked on, Snowhawk launched into the technique with flawless grace, luring Groundspider from the light as before, misdirecting his attack inside the shadow. Her lightning-fast counter-strike stopped just above Groundspider’s shoulder, whistling at him so fast that this time he flinched.

  Snowhawk returned the weapon to Groundspider with a bow and a cheeky grin.

  ‘Just … just don’t draw so fast,’ he bowed back, reluctantly impressed. ‘I faintly heard blade against wood, which might give you away. Apart from that … it was, well …’

  ‘It was perfect,’ Moonshadow called. ‘Better than your first try, or mine.’

  ‘Shut up, kid.’ Groundspider glared at him, then rounded on Snowhawk. ‘Fine, I admit it! That was very, very good. So tell me, how come you learn so fast?’

  She angled her head. ‘In Clan Fuma, those who grasp things too slowly get beaten.’ She shrugged. ‘So why wouldn’t I be a fast learner, having grown up with that?’

  Groundspider nodded soberly, but as he and Snowhawk took up their bokken and faced off in the sparring area, that familiar, mischievous expression returned to his face.

  ‘Let’s see if you do as well,’ he said, grinning wickedly, ‘against an opponent who can fight back. If you get clipped, just cry out and I’ll … keep going!’ He narrowed his eyes at her provocatively. ‘Snowy. You don’t like it when I call you Snowy, do you, Snowy?’

  Moonshadow picked up his cat and sat down on the rock with a sigh. Groundspider loved baiting Snowhawk. Unfortunately, she was both fearless and quick-tempered. ‘This could get ugly,’ he told Banken as he nestled her into his lap.

  The sparring partners raised their weapons and Groundspider grunted, ‘Begin!’

  Snowhawk darted forward, weapon held out at her side. Groundspider, seeing her loose guard, bounded in and swung at her body, but Snowhawk somersaulted over his bokken, regained her balance then leapt high with astounding speed. As Groundspider spun fast and hacked powerfully at where she had stood, she landed on his back, wrapped her long legs around his waist, and drove the edge of her bokken into his neck. He let out a growl of pain and Snowhawk untangled her legs, then pushed off him hard, cartwheeling backwards to narrowly avoid his mighty reverse counter-strike. She landed nimbly safely out of range and straightened up, catching her opponent’s eye.

  ‘Seeing as you just cried out, I guess I’ll … keep going,’ Snowhawk winked.

  ‘Getting ugly already,’ Moonshadow told Banken. His mind drifted as he watched the two fight. Twilight War was coming. That would be truly ugly. And it might not even be fought according to any code. ‘Brother Eagle says the old ways are slipping from us,’ he murmured, stroking the cat and staring absently off into the night. ‘He says both samurai and shinobi are lapsing these days, forsaking their ancient principles. Courtesy and respect between enemies is fading, and as for showing mercy to a worthy, skilful foe as Mantis says we should, well …’

  A sharp clack made him look up. Snowhawk was again on the attack, forcing Groundspider to shuffle back and block hard as she launched a series of cuts at ever-changing angles. The big shinobi grinned as he defended. He was planning something.

  ‘I should talk to her about that dream,’ Moonshadow told the cat. ‘It still nags at me.’ He shrugged. ‘But not as much as that odd feeling I had at breakfast! Can you imagine facing Koga Danjo? How could even a shinobi fight a real warrior wizard?’

  Banken sat up on his lap. Turning her head, she stared into Moonshadow’s eyes.

  He frowned at the animal. ‘There’s so much to think about lately. How could the great White Nun possibly owe a debt to my mother? A debt for what?’ Banken meowed softly. ‘I know, I know,’ Moonshadow nodded. ‘I must put it out of my mind for now. Silver Wolf, the threat of the Fuma, this latest news … all that’s burden enough to handle!’

  He glanced up. Groundspider had dropped into a moving crouch and now forced Snowhawk back, reaping at her legs with fast horizontal cuts. Banken’s unblinking stare continued. The beast ogled him! Was this mere animal curiosity, or something more?

  ‘Say, is the White Nun looking through you right now? On the mountain, she told me that she sometimes does.’ He leaned closer to the cat and whispered. ‘Help me, great sage, help me to be patient. And to stop fearing something that may be years away, or may never happen at all!’ Banken yawned, stretched, and then sagged to his lap. Moonshadow hung his head. He’d given in to wishful thinking! There was no sign that the White Nun could hear him now. It was up to him to recover a tranquil mind on his own. He took a breath and recalled the furube sutra, the ancient calming tool of shinobi.

  ‘Gather, tidy and align your doings and their karma …’ Moonshadow began.

  There was a loud crack. Snowhawk gave a sharp howl of pain. Startled, Banken leapt from Moonshadow’s lap and tore off into the dark. Moonshadow looked up in time to see Snowhawk drop her bokken and clutch the knuckles of her left hand. They were bleeding.

  ‘I hope you learn from that,’ Groundspider admonished her. ‘You were doing fine, keeping me under pressure, but once that temper rose, your guard opened!’

  Snowhawk strode forward, her face twisting with anger. ‘Idiot!’ she growled. ‘Oaf!’ With her teeth set and eyes narrowed, she glared up furiously at Groundspider.

  Suddenly he shuddered, dropped his bokken and gripped his chest with one hand. Moonshadow jumped to his feet. What was happening? Groundspider winced, then took a long, slow breath and shook his head as if just waking up.

  Moonshadow hurried to his side, looking over the big man’s frame. ‘What was that? Are you all right?’ Groundspider nodded quickly.

  ‘I … I’m sorry,’ Snowhawk mumbled, blinking rapidly, one hand on her stomach. ‘I … felt something, but I’m not sure what. I don’t understand what just happened.’

  Groundspider held up a large hand. ‘I’m fine, it’s passed now. For an instant there … I suddenly felt out of breath.’ He shook his head slowly. ‘And dizzy.’

  Moonshadow and Groundspider turned together and stared at Snowhawk. Moonshadow pointed at her belly. ‘Look. You’re holding your stomach. You told me once that just before you unleash kunoichi hypnosis to put an enemy to sleep, you feel a glow in there.’ She nodded vaguely. ‘But that didn’t look like kunoichi hypnosis to me!’

  ‘It wasn’t,’ Snowhawk frowned hard. ‘It was more like a weak flash of some paralysis skill, but that ability is so hard to develop, and besides, I’ve never learned it.’ Her eyes flicked to Groundspider. ‘I can’t explain this, but … please forgive me!’

  ‘Forget it.’ He studied her curiously. ‘I’m just glad that whatever you did, it was the weak version.’ Groundspider rubbed his chest and blew out a breath.

  Moonshadow glanced between the two sparring partners, then eyed Snowhawk. ‘So the Fuma don’t teach an art where you learn to paralyse an enemy with a glare?’

  ‘Maybe they do, but I never saw it.’ She shrugged. ‘The lord of the Fuma clan, Fuma Kotaro himself, is said to be able to kill with a secret word, but I personally know of nothing like this.’ She stepped forward and patted Groundspider’s arm. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  The giant glanced at her bleeding knuckles. ‘Me too. We both got carried away.’

  Snowhawk looked confused and guilty. ‘I’ll talk to Heron about this … I promise.’

  Moonshadow watched her turn and walk from the sparring area. First the dream, now this. Was it possible that he didn’t know the real Snowhawk after all?

  After a midnight visi
t to the monastery’s small bathhouse, a weary Moonshadow made for his room, the strange events of the not-so-friendly bokken duel still on his mind.

  Motto and Banken fell in behind him as he walked through the silent archives. Suddenly they charged ahead and into his open room in a frenzied burst of speed.

  Moonshadow slid the door shut behind him and stared down at his roommates. ‘I’m warning you now, I’m tired, so no crazy stuff tonight, you hear me?’

  Motto inclined his large head, then bounded onto the end of the bedroll. Banken darted after him. Both animals scrambled around excitedly, stamping grubby paw marks all over the futon. Moonshadow clicked his tongue.

  ‘Cut that out now –’ he began impatiently. The animals froze. ‘That’s better,’ Moonshadow said. Then the dog and cat turned as one. They stared at the wall to his left.

  A soft, rhythmic knocking came from inside it, steadily growing louder. Moonshadow dropped to one knee. He gently prised open a small door in the wood panelling below his narrow window and peered inside.

  In the secret compartment – the kind found in every sleeping chamber in the monastery – hid a small wooden wheel, fitted with carved clappers. It was connected to a system of ropes and pulleys inside the walls, which ran off black trip-wires hidden in the outermost gardens. Moonshadow gaped as the wheel turned faster and the device’s rapping grew louder, indicating repeated trip-wire activations outside.

  ‘Can’t be a malfunction.’ He stood up quickly. ‘The Fuma must be here!’

  Then he saw his companions flinch and stare up at the ceiling. Motto let out a low growl. Banken’s tail flicked. She crouched low to the floor, hissing.

  ‘Oh no –’ Moonshadow whispered. Now he could make out the faint sounds too. He had sensed no latent shinobi energy, but then again, his intuition in that department was famously poor. Moonshadow eyed the ceiling along with the animals until a sharp odour made his nostrils flare. Recognising its tang, he shrank back.