by Ryan Kirk
This was the moment Mari’s campaign came down to. Would her brother see reason or not?
The tent was silent, but Asa thought she could have cut the tension in the room with her sword.
Hiromi’s response was surprisingly strong. “No.”
Mari didn’t gloat, but her voice turned from steel to silk. “I know how you feel about whoever killed our brother. When this chaos has passed, we need to find that blade and bring him to justice. But I want to see you as king, Brother, and that means we need to win this war. The only way to ensure that is to ally with the blades.”
Hiromi still looked as though he wasn’t convinced, but Mari knew just what to say.
“Brother, remember, if you become monarch, you get to decide how the blades live. You will make the laws that govern them. You can make sure that what happened to Juro never happens again. But you must become king first.”
Asa wasn’t sure what part of Mari’s argument convinced Hiromi, but she saw the moment his face changed. The blade’s stomach turned over. Although she was glad they had found an ally here, a man whose opinion could be so easily manipulated was a danger.
“You’re right, Sister.”
Mari went over to the map and looked it over. “Can we make it to Starfall before Katashi?”
Hiromi glanced over at Kyo, and Asa realized just how little the lord knew about his own troops.
“I do not think so, my lord,” the general answered.
Asa took a glance at the map. The forces seemed almost equidistant. Katashi would have no reason to hurry his troops. “Why not? If you make haste and ride hard, there seems to be no reason not to.”
Hiromi was nodding as he looked at the map. “Yes, we are almost as close. If we hurry, maybe . . .” His voice trailed off as he waited for Kyo to confirm his half-formed thought.
The general stood up and shuffled toward the map, keeping a hate-filled eye on Asa. He studied the map for a moment and seemed to be thinking about the problem. Asa felt as though he was trying to cover something up.
“Perhaps I was mistaken,” he admitted. “We aren’t too far from Starfall. The nightblade is right. If we prepare and leave at first light, making all haste, we can probably beat Katashi there. The troops will be exhausted and in no state to fight, however.”
Mari didn’t seem bothered. “That’s not a problem. Creating an alliance with Hajimi shouldn’t take long. The groundwork has already been laid. Then, with the blades at our back, we can negotiate a peace with Katashi. Isamu will follow suit. There will be no more need for this war.” The relief in her voice was almost physical.
Asa considered the statement. The plan was as good as any if war was to be avoided. There were many ways it could go wrong, but if most of the pieces could be made to fit, Mari might have her peace.
Unfortunately, Asa’s opinion mattered not at all. It was still Hiromi who held the fate of the Kingdom in his hands.
“I agree,” he said.
Mari actually embraced him. Asa chuckled as he initially flinched away in fear.
He looked around the table. “Let’s end this war.”
The sun had yet to rise, but the time since their meeting with Hiromi had been busy. Mari had asked for paper and ink and became consumed with composing letters. Asa used the opportunity to close her eyes. She didn’t dare sleep with so much happening around them, but she could still rest.
For the first time in many moons, Asa felt as though there was a chance for the land. Maybe, just maybe, they could put everything behind them, and the Kingdom could return to normalcy. She hated to hope and be disappointed, but it was hard not to hope around Mari.
She opened her eyes when Mari stood up and stretched. The lady beckoned for Asa to follow, and she did. Together they left the camp, this time out in the open. Many of the troops recognized Mari and bowed deferentially. Asa wondered how they would act if they knew their beloved lady was also the Lady in White.
Asa assumed Mari wanted to be out of hearing range, and she was right. Once Mari was certain they were alone, she turned and handed a pile of letters to Asa. The nightblade stared at them in her hands, confused.
“Your next mission.”
Asa frowned.
“I hope that this will work,” she explained, gesturing back to the camp and her brother, “but I can’t risk everything on a single approach. In those letters are the orders for everyone moving forward. The longest is for Jun, who I assume will take my place if anything happens to me. I’ve explained everything I can, giving my advice for possible scenarios, but it will be up to all of you to fix this broken Kingdom if I fail.”
Asa didn’t like the way Mari was speaking, sounding as though she didn’t expect to succeed.
Mari seemed to read her mind. “Don’t worry. I’ll do everything I can.”
“I should come with you.”
Mari shook her head. “No. There’s too much risk. We can’t travel with a nightblade, as much as I’d like to. Moving forward, our deceptions need to stop. I will no longer be the Lady in White, and you will no longer be my servant.” She glanced over at Asa’s new serving costume, brought in overnight on Mari’s orders to provide an excuse for the blade’s presence, a grin on her face.
Asa wanted to be reassuring, but it wasn’t her nature. The challenges facing Mari were substantial. “You’ll succeed.”
“I hope so. I am worried, though. Once I knew almost everything of importance in this Kingdom, but messages are getting to me too slowly. I didn’t know Katashi had crossed the river and invaded our house’s land. Even my own brother’s mind is more a mystery to me now than ever before. What else don’t I know?”
Asa didn’t have any answers.
Mari took a deep and slow breath. “It doesn’t matter, though, not really. All that really matters is peace, and this is our best hope. Take the letters to the group wandering the Kita lands. They’ll be the closest, and then the message can spread from there. I’m summoning everyone to Starfall, to play whatever role they may. I think . . .” She paused. “I think the fate of the Kingdom might be decided there.”
Asa bowed. “If you believe so. Regardless, I will track the party and deliver your words as fast as I can.”
Mari bowed slightly to Asa. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much this all means to me. Go in safety, and may the Great Cycle bless you.”
Chapter 21
Family, Mari thought, was a puzzling concept. For most of your life, you got to choose, at least to some degree, whom you spent your time with. You chose servants, friends, and lovers. But family you were stuck with, and it was family that was always closest to you.
Of course, she had known Hiromi since he had been born. She had only seen four cycles at the time but had been old enough to be excited for another addition to the family. Juro, once her closest friend and playmate, was busy focusing on learning how to be a warrior and rule the lands. He considered himself too important for her.
At first, the bond between Hiromi and Mari had been strong. Neither was concerned about issues of inheritance when they were young, and they played together almost every day between their lessons.
Mari wasn’t sure when that had changed. In her memory, it felt as though one day they had been almost tied together, and the next they had nothing in common.
Mari tended to believe the rift had developed when Hiromi had figured out she was a girl. Of course, he had always known she was a girl, but one day, when he had been about eight, he seemed to realize what being a girl meant. Juro trained in war while Mari learned to dance. Hiromi idolized his older brother, the sibling so often praised by their parents for his excellent progress. Mari became his sister, nothing more than an annoyance, an obstacle to his own development.
Once he began training with swords, he no longer played with Mari, and the two had drifted apart. Consequently, Mari and Juro became slightly closer. Hiromi’s temperament had always been a little different than theirs. His mind changed more quickly, and his passi
ons inflamed faster, with more fluidity.
But as well as she knew Hiromi, Mari felt as though she didn’t really know him at all. Who was the man her younger brother had become? She still thought of him in the framework of when she had known him best, back when he was little.
But that did him no justice. Like anyone, he had been shaped by a lifetime of experiences both big and small. Judging him as she had as a child wasn’t fair anymore. He was now a grown man and her lord, although she still struggled to think of him in those terms.
On the ride to Starfall, she tried to remedy the situation, to talk with her brother and understand his mind. Her efforts were met with mixed success. At times, she was rewarded handsomely. They would speak of his beliefs and fears, and she would learn more about Hiromi in one morning than she had known in entire cycles of their lives together.
She knew that he hated the blades but made the connection through their conversation that he had always desired to be one. He wanted to be a good leader and inspire his troops, but he spent so much time thinking about how to inspire them that he did little of the actual necessary work. Perhaps the most important fact she learned was that he wasn’t confident in the face of his fears.
That was a subject that Mari knew about. She and Juro had often discussed it late at night, and she had experienced the same fear firsthand the past couple of moons. Leading, whether it be a village, a group of blades, or one of the great houses, was a privilege. But it was also a terrifying responsibility to shoulder. Life and death rode on your decisions, and not deciding often seemed easier.
Mari felt the fear. She had felt it when she started leading the blades. She felt it even when she sent Asa away. At night, the fear often kept her awake.
But a leader had to find her way beyond the fear. Mari’s path was acceptance. She believed she was doing her best, and nothing more could be asked. The consequences would be what they were.
Hiromi hadn’t found his way yet. As they rode, he spoke about his sleepless nights, his endless pursuit of advice from others in an attempt to make the correct decision. A part of him knew he was becoming too reliant on his advisers, but he lacked the courage to accept the full responsibility of his orders.
Gently, Mari tried to give him advice and guidance on their journey, but her words were usually shunned. Just as she’d judged him based on their childhood experiences, he judged her the same. She wasn’t someone who had single-handedly led a group of blades to prevent full-scale war; she was just his older sister, who wasn’t allowed to train with swords.
On the third day of their ride, Mari came to a realization, one that had been a long time coming. If she had to choose an ideal lord to follow, she didn’t think it would be Hiromi. Yes, she still thought he was the best of the three lords to choose from, but that wasn’t saying much. Katashi was far too devious and Isamu too inept.
She wanted more from the man she looked up to as lord. She wanted him to be confident in his decisions. Her ideal leader had a vision for his lands, something specific they could all agree on. Hiromi had none of these traits.
But that was the other reason why family was puzzling. Despite all his shortcomings, she still loved him. They were riding into a dangerous situation together, and if something were to happen to Hiromi, Mari would be devastated. She didn’t question that for a moment. What did it mean to care for someone deeply but not like the person they were? The question troubled her far more than it should have.
A day away from Starfall, the siblings broke away from the main army, traveling with only the hundred guards that comprised Hiromi’s honor guard, some of the best warriors in their lands. For the second time in less than a cycle, the walls of Starfall rose to greet Mari.
Everything felt so similar and yet different. She visited the same chambers, but this time the assembly was much smaller. In fact, the only gifted present were the Council of the Blades. The stands, once filled with blades eager to listen to her, were now empty. Mari found it eerie to be in such a massive space with so few people.
On her first visit, she had felt almost claustrophobic with the number of blades packed into the benches that surrounded the hall. Now she wished that any of those sturdy wooden benches had someone sitting on them. She hadn’t noticed on her first visit, but in the hall of the council, the seat of power for the blades, no decorations adorned the walls. Not a single painting or scroll hung from the pristine white surfaces.
The lack of spectators had nothing to do with the number of people in Starfall, as there were still a few hundred blades in the city. And yet Mari didn’t think the city was as crowded as it had been on her last visit. But it was hard to know, and harder still to trust that her memory of those days was accurate.
The room was quiet because the meeting had been declared private. Hajimi hadn’t given any reason, but Mari suspected it was because the situation was getting out of control, even in Starfall. Most blades spent their days wandering through the Kingdom. They rarely settled in one place for long. For all of them to be gathered here must have been a strain.
As Hiromi and she had walked the streets, she could see the divisions among the blades and wondered how much longer Hajimi would be able to keep everything together. They had passed more than one heated argument in the streets, and Mari herself caused disruption. She was recognized from her last visit, and some blades came and welcomed her warmly while others threw their hoods over their heads and turned their backs.
The blades seemed just as fractured as the citizens of the Kingdom. Some called for an end to the war. Others called for an alliance with this house or that. Mari had even heard some proclaiming it was time to leave the Kingdom altogether.
The differences didn’t surprise her. She had come to understand the blades were just as individualized as any other citizen, but her brother was astounded. His demeanor, which had been hopeful for most of the journey, had soured quickly.
“How are we supposed to get them to align with us if they can’t even agree with one another?” he asked glumly.
Mari didn’t have any easy answers for her brother. She didn’t know how Hajimi would use his power to unite the blades, but she had to trust that he had the ability. Otherwise their very last hope was lost.
Mari assumed the situation was delicate enough that Hajimi didn’t need prying eyes or public opinion influencing the decision of the council.
Hajimi bowed to Mari when the siblings entered. “Lady Mari, it is good to see you again. You have been busy since our last visit.”
Mari returned Hajimi’s bow. She was slightly surprised he, too, knew of her activities. She worried her secret wasn’t as safe as she’d once thought. Mentioning her previous visit did her no favors, either, as Hiromi glared at her, reminded of when her traitorous behavior began.
Hajimi bowed to Hiromi as well, but Mari noticed the bow wasn’t as deep. Hiromi did as well but contained his anger. Mari had to give him credit for that much at least. The meeting wasn’t getting off to the start she had hoped for.
The head of the Council of the Blades motioned for Hiromi to begin. He did, starting with the problems facing the Kingdom.
After a while, Hajimi waved his hand. “Lord Hiromi, while I appreciate your efforts, please know that we are just as aware of what is happening in the Kingdom as you. If you are here, let us get to the real point of your visit.”
Even Mari was taken aback. Hajimi was being unquestionably rude, which was unlike him. In Mari’s previous encounters with the blade master, he had been perfectly respectful.
Then she understood. Hajimi was, in his own way, testing her brother. Mari wasn’t sure she saw the need but realized she didn’t see the situation the same way he would. Hajimi was the guardian for all the blades. If they were going to ally with any lord, the agreement had to go deeper than just the terms. Hajimi had to know the type of man he was dealing with. Mari knew that the two hadn’t met for many cycles. That was why he continued to push.
Hiromi appeared as though
he was about to walk straight out of the room, but at the last moment, he seemed to change his mind.
“Very well. I have come to offer terms of an alliance between the blades and my house. I realize such an offer is unusual, but the times seem to demand it. Only together can we stop the war that threatens our Kingdom.”
Hajimi nodded. “Noble words, indeed. What are your terms?”
Mari squinted, studying Hajimi closely. He seemed an entirely different man than the one she remembered. How much of his behavior was a test for her brother, and how much was him being worn down by the endless siege of hatred directed at the blades? His stony face gave nothing away. Had he already allied with another house?
Hiromi sketched the outline of his terms.
“I propose an alliance of forces between the blades and those of House Kita. While this is unprecedented, the situation is as well. To address possible concerns, this agreement would be in force only until I am officially recognized as the new king, at which time we will draw a new agreement between the Kingdom and the blades.”
Hiromi paused, his eyes studying the council’s expressionless faces.
“Although I do not know what form this final agreement will take, I am willing to consider returning many of the rights that had once been taken from the blades.”
That had been a point of contention between the siblings. On the journey, Mari had argued that an entirely new system was needed, but to that he wouldn’t listen. Hiromi was willing to be generous, to a point, but he wasn’t willing to consider remaking a system that had worked well for so long.
Hajimi seemed skeptical but allowed Hiromi to continue until the lord was finished. When her brother was done, Hajimi’s first question was difficult. “What about the census?”
This had caused the worst argument between the siblings. Mari knew from her conversations with the blades how much they hated the census. But to her brother, getting rid of the census was the equivalent of giving up one’s last line of defense.
