Sunstone - Dishonor's Bane (Book 2)

by Guy Antibes

  Shiro looked at the scroll stick. “He doesn’t think we can read,” he said as he handed the stick to Chika.

  Interview for kitchen staff, the scroll read.

  “Should we?” Chika said.

  “Gets us in the palace with our weapons on, doesn’t it? I’d rather be invited than have to break in. What do you think?”

  “I’m disappointed I don’t get to show what a great warrior I am.”

  “No, but you are an outstanding cook, aren’t you?”

  Chika beamed. “I am and my culinary prowess will raise some eyebrows.”

  “Make sure that’s all you raise.” Shiro said, whistling as he stepped ahead of her.

  She caught up and hit him on his shoulder. “You said focus!”

  “You said I’m too dour. Make up your mind,” Shiro said turning into a dark alley.

  “Why did you—Very good image of the guard you’ve got there. I memorized their uniforms as well. I’m the shorter.”

  “I should think so.” Shiro looked her over. “I think I’ve got the hang of this disguise spell.”

  Chika laughed. “I won’t say a thing, other than we are ready for tomorrow morning, are we not?”

  ‘We are. Let’s see if there is a street vendor selling pickled vegetables. I think you deserve a treat,” Shiro said.

  “I won’t say no.”

  “Really?”

  She hit him in the arm again.

  “Hey that hurts!” Shiro said, smiling. Chika had certainly made the trip less grim. “You get your vegetables, we return to the inn to do some planning, and then I’ll see if my arm works,” he said rubbing his bicep.

  ~

  Shiro, in the guise of Kinoru, gave the stick to the guard at the small gate at the rear of the castle. Another guard stood on the other side and looked at the stick as well.

  “We go to show your weapons master our prowess,” Shiro said. The guard gave them directions to the ‘training ground’. Shiro could tell the man tried to hide his laughter.

  As they walked up through the switchback paths towards the castle proper, Shiro kept a sharp eye on the guards they passed, one every two turns. They passed four guards and came to a courtyard. Men practiced with arms and Shiro spotted the man who stood like a weapons master.

  “Here we go. Be prepared for certain abuse,” Shiro said.

  “I’ve noticed plenty of abuse in the last two days,” she said, winking at Shiro.

  He walked up to the weapons master and gave him the stick. The grim visage on his face broke into laughter. “Do you know what this says?”

  Shiro bowed and clutched his tunic. “I do not read, sir.”

  “Kitchen. The guard who gave you this gave you a pass to the kitchens.” He looked over their arms and rubbed his chin. “You fancy yourselves as armsmen?”

  They both bowed. “Expert-level, sir,” Shiro said to more laughter.

  “Then you will be tested. Horiuki, come here.” The man looked up and down at Shiro, with a grin on his face.

  A tall, broad warrior walked up. His arms bore plenty of scars to match his broken face.

  “This is my tester. Horiuki, show this would-be swordsman the level of expertise we demand of Lord Sekkoro’s guard.”

  “Practice blades?” Shiro said, looking alarmed. “Armor?”

  Horiuki merely laughed. The man was a bit broader than Mistokko.

  The weapons master tossed a sword in a scabbard at Shiro. “I won’t have my man spar with another holding an unconventional weapon.” Shiro slipped the sword off of his back and gave it to Chika. “Take care of this.” The proffered sword’s hilt didn’t look like much and the weapon’s grip work definitely had the appearance of an amateur’s hand.

  Shiro unsheathed the sword. It had only fair balance and a poorly made blade. He introduced errors in his practice forms as he warmed up and even over balanced and stumbled to laughter. “Bandit. Idiot. Peasant.” The words were said as he passed the soldiers who had stopped practice, looking on to see one of their own teach a rural armsman, a lesson.

  Horiuki strutted in front of his peers and performed his practice forms. Shiro watched him go through them all, exposing his style, warts and all, to his opponent. He rated Horiuki somewhat less skilled than Mistokko and could tell that the man had held nothing back during his warm-up. The man meant to intimidate, but only succeeded in showing Shiro the way to victory.

  Did he want to beat this man? Perhaps he could stumble his way to win, producing a mixture of skill and luck.

  Shiro introduced a non-standard opening stance holding his sword one-handed with the sheath in his left hand, bringing a smile to Horiuki’s face. He waved his sword at the guard, something his father had commanded him never to do in a fight. It didn’t faze his opponent who held his sword, two-handed, with the sword upright and his hand positioned close to his right ear.

  Horiuki shuffled closer, while Shiro retreated and then Shiro attacked, using the sheath to attract the guard’s blade. The guard’s slash nearly jerked the sheath out of Shiro’s grasp and he used it as an excuse to stumble to Horiuki’s side while he slapped the flat of his blade on the guard’s exposed stomach as he tried to gain his balance.

  “Excuse me for being so clumsy,” Shiro said, bowing.

  The spectators groaned at the move. Shiro backed up while he regained his balance. Horiuki’s eyes grew in size as he realized that the match could be called for Shiro’s ‘inadvertent’ strike. He quickly went on the offensive as his eyes filled with anger. The murderous slashes met with Shiro’s blade, ringing loudly in the practice field. Shiro continued to move back. He held up the sheath to parry Horiuki’s strike. The final slash cut the sheath in two, and Shiro scampered back just in time to save his life.

  He didn’t want to show his skill, but the match had turned into a life or death battle. The blades continued to ring in the courtyard and Horiuki’s blade glanced off of Shiro’s arm, cutting the cloth and scraping skin off, but Shiro held on to his sword and began to strike back.

  He struck high and low and at Horiuki’s mid-section, forcing the guard back until the opening that Shiro had expected presented itself. Instead of using the flat of the blade to slap at the guard’s midsection or the edge to disembowel him, Shiro used the blunt edge of the blade to hit him just below his ribcage. The force of the stroke took away Horiuki’s breath as he back-pedaled and fell on his bottom. Shiro placed the blunt edge against the guard’s neck. The weapon’s master called an end to the match. The practice yard became still.

  “You are exceptional, rough around the edges but exceptional. Only I have defeated Horiuki on the practice field, yet you toyed with him until Horiuki lost his… perspective. Your name?”

  Shiro gave him a bow. “Kinoru, sir.”

  “Kinoru, consider yourself hired. Is the boy as good as you?”

  “Truthfully, he is not and has a lot to learn.” He looked back at Chika who glared at him.

  The weapons master put his hand to his chin. “The boy can learn kitchen duties and accompany our unit on a campaign as a cook, but can train with us.” He looked at Chika. “Will that do?”

  Chika snorted and then looked alarmed and bowed. “I forgot my place. My options are few, being new to Sekkoro.”

  Another guard showed her to the kitchen door that opened on the courtyard. So much for their plans, thought Shiro. “Do I stay in the castle? I’ve paid for another night in an inn in the city.”

  “Find the boy when you are done with us tonight and enjoy a night in Sekkoro. You will quarter with the guard tomorrow and he with the kitchen helpers.”

  Horiuki walked up to Shiro and bowed to him. “You are a worthy opponent. I look forward to a discussion of strategy.”

  “Indeed,” the weapons master said. “Your skill level never came from a rural lord.”

  “My father came from Boriako, where he served with the Emperor’s guard. He sought out a simpler life and settled far from Roppon’s capital. He taught me all
he knew until he died.” Shiro bowed again. The closer to the truth of his story, the easier his life would be.”

  “You didn’t tell us!” the weapons master said.

  “You never asked. I said I was expert-level, sir.”

  The weapons master threw his head back in laughter. “You did at that. Dichoya, get this man fitted out and back out here in the yard”

  ~

  Chika didn’t say a word all the way to the inn. Once in their room she looked up. “I don’t like cooking in a big kitchen.”

  “They didn’t just let you set the menu and do all the cooking? Is that right?”

  “I skinned fish and plucked chickens all day long,” Chika said, the dejection clearly in her voice.

  “Well, my little chicken plucker, I’m sure you picked up more information than I did bruises. The boys kept me busy. Each one wanted to show how good they were.”

  Chika let her mouth curve up. “I did. The cooks saw the ladies of the White Rose parade through the kitchens and to the dungeons that lie underneath. They even pointed me to the unguarded door that leads downward. The kitchens are placed to feed prisoners and guards. The Lord’s kitchens are on the opposite side of the castle.”

  “So we have access to the proper side of the castle.”

  Chika nodded. “I’m not sure if she’s here or at the Guild. I couldn’t ask them to describe Shiuki.”

  Shiro rubbed his head. “Were there sorcerers?”

  “I never asked,” Chika said.

  “Do tomorrow. We will drink tonight and stagger up to our room and begin our stay in the lair of our enemy tomorrow,” Shiro said. “It will make it easier to find Shiuki as long as she didn’t end up at the Guild. If she did, our new jobs will keep us occupied.”

  ~~~

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  ~

  SHIRO AND CHIKA SHOWED UP AS THE SUN BEGAN TO BATHE the three towers of the castle with its morning light. They entered the castle using the new identity sticks given them by the guard. When they entered the courtyard the guard, who they had first met on the street, stopped them,

  “So, you’ve done well for yourself, bandit,” he said.

  Shiro expected a sneer, but the man surprised him by putting his hand on his shoulder. “I wish I would have been there to see Horiuki get his comeuppance!” He laughed and gave Chika a gentle push towards the kitchens. “Our mess is the door to the right of the kitchen entrance.”

  Chika looked over her shoulder as Shiro let the guard lead him through the mess door. The room was half-full of guards eating away. Shiro could tell the experienced soldiers from the new ones. The older soldiers ate in silence; serious about feeding themselves while the younger men laughed and even indulged in some horseplay.

  His new friend led them to Horiuki’s table. “Here is the champion,” the guard crowed.

  Shiro bowed to Horiuki.

  “The man does know how to show respect.” His erstwhile opponent nodded. “Sit with me, Kinoru. We have something to discuss.” He swatted his hand in the air dismissing the guard. The man slunk away without a word as Shiro sat on a cushion at the low table. “I have asked Anata, he’s our commander and he loves acting as the weapons master, to add you to my unit. I’m nominally in charge, but I’d like to think we could run the men together. You contain a strong essence of leadership. After our match, the men will follow you. Gods’ hells, I will follow you. I know you could have easily killed me more than a few times.”

  Shiro curtly nodded. “I appreciate your humility and will accept your offer. Know this, I’m not sure I want to remain in the guard.”

  “Ambitious? You don’t strike me as the type.”

  Shiro shook his head. “I have certain obligations that may arise at any time.”

  “Certainly not in the midst of battle,” Horiuki said.

  “I wouldn’t desert my friends. However, if truth were known, I am not a bloodthirsty man and I’ve not used my sword much. I’ve never led men before.”

  “Whatever. Stay as long as you can. With the two of us together, we can stand undefeated on the battlefield.”

  “All this talk of battle. I thought we were palace guards.”

  Horiuki laughed. Other soldiers looked up from their breakfast. “We will move against the eastern prefectures as soon as the sorcerers have filled our dungeons with the women of the White Rose.”

  “What is this White Rose?” Shiro said.

  “You are a country bumpkin!”

  “From a little farm in the hills east of Rumoto. That’s as bumpkin as it gets.”

  “Ah yes, but your father was a retired soldier… in the Boriako guard, no less. It doesn’t get any better than that.”

  Shiro nodded. His father had died long ago, leaving him ignorant of his father’s prowess with a sword. With his new experience with the Sekkoro guard, his estimation of his father’s capabilities had increased dramatically.

  “So, the White Rose is a witch society is an organization where women wield magic. They suck the life force out of innocent people everywhere they go. A scourge, they are. There are thirty or forty incarcerated below our feet. Even the Guild doesn’t want them near.” Horiuki laughed.

  Breakfast was served to Shiro and he concentrated on his eating as he listened to Horiuki tell him what he wanted to know. The man liked to talk and Shiro was prepared to listen well.

  “Ah, I’ve heard talk of a society of witches, but not that they called themselves the White Rose.” Indeed, if such a society existed on the North Isle, the women kept it secret. He immediately thought of the woman innkeeper on the way to Hoksaka. “Untrained sorcerers do the same, I hear.”

  Horiuki gave Shiro a grim smile. “That’s why we go out with sorcerers to do testing, so they can remove the damned apprentices from the general population.

  A scourge, Horiuki had termed them. The White Rose Society had been left alone for some time on the South Isle, so what had caused the sudden interest?

  After eating, Horiuki took Shiro under his wing and led him to his new quarters. A guard approached Shiro.

  “You look familiar. I saw someone that looked like you to the northwest a week or so ago capturing a White Rose leader.”

  Shiro shrugged. “I have many cousins around Rumoto. Perhaps we all look alike.” He laughed. “Was he armed?”

  The man laughed and shook his head. “No. An old stablehand. Must have been one of those relatives.”

  “I’m sure,” Shiro said, standing a little straighter.

  “Definitely not you. Welcome to our unit.” The man smiled and walked away.

  Shiro let out his breath when his companions led him along in the large room. Who would have thought a lowly stablehand would defeat the guard’s champion? They wouldn’t and they didn’t, thank the gods. He put his things in a chest by his sleeping pallet. Relieved, he walked to the training yard where they exercised without weapons for the morning. Just after breaking for lunch, Anata walked over to Horiuki and they both looked at Shiro.

  His heart jumped with concern. Discovered after a morning? Horiuki walked over to him. “Anata wants me to bring the last of the White Rose members from the Guild’s cells.” Horiuki pointed out four others. “Get your weapons and each of you take a spear. There’s no telling how dangerous these women are.” The men all laughed except Shiro.

  “You’re not afraid, are you?” Horiuki had noticed Shiro’s demeanor.

  “I respect the sorcerers. If the women know how to throw magic at us, shouldn’t we be afraid?”

  Horiuki shrugged. “Maybe. None have given us any trouble. We will kill all of them out of hand if even one of them makes a threatening move.” The sorcerers certainly would. Shiro had seen it first hand.

  The detail marched out of the castle with Shiro in their midst. As they were shown through the guildhouse gates, Shiro wondered if his shield spell would be detected. But it seemed to work while sorcerers eyed them suspiciously as they marched into the main courtyard. Shiro didn’t kn
ow if he had been carried here or not when he had been unconscious on his way from Ashiyo’s house to the dock on the way to Diakko Island.

  The sorcerers made them wait while they assembled the prisoners. The Guildhouse reminded him of the one he nearly stayed at in Hoksaka. It was smaller and less impressive than the one in Boriako. The wood had been oiled through the years and every surface looked nearly black. Light green tiles adorned the roofs and occasional plaster walls were tinted with the bright colors characteristic of Sekkoro. Round stones, smaller than what paved the streets, were set into the courtyard entrance. The magic gravel decorated the rest of the grounds. Shiro had never learned that spell.

  Shiro hoped that Shiuki would be among the prisoners. That way he would know exactly where she was. Horiuki commanded them to look sharp as the sorcerers prodded the women with sticks. The prisoners’ clothes were dirty and ripped. There faces weren’t much better. None of them had escaped bruises or worse on their faces. Shiro gripped his spear until his hand hurt in frustration, his only outward sign of anger.

  Shiuki hobbled along towards the back of the seven women. They had been ill-used. If she recognized Shiro, she didn’t let on, keeping her head focused on the gravel in front of her. Shiro walked ahead of her in the column as they escorted the women into the street and towards the castle.

  Suddenly his trip to Sekkoro seemed like a fool’s errand. Chika and he had quickly gotten into proximity to the dungeons inside the castle, but he had been naïve to think that to be the main obstacle.

  Even though he could defeat any man in the guard, he couldn’t fight them all. How could he free Shiuki and leave the other women in the dungeon? How could he break Chika out of her kitchen duties to help him? He didn’t know the answers to those questions and at this point, Shiro began to doubt if he could save her at all. His mind went blank all the way up from the outer wall of the castle. Just as he began to fret that he had no knowledge of how to free Shiuki, Horiuki motioned to Shiro as the column entered the courtyard of the castle.

  “Take the prisoners through the kitchen to the stairway leading down to the dungeons. I’ve got to report to Anata.” Horiuki left Shiro with three other guards.