The beauty he beheld made it difficult to believe that the nation was undergoing great unrest. A great war had just ended in the nation and had not yet recovered in the slightest in the decade that past. Zhang Sunzan breathed in the cool, crisp air to enjoy the serenity… until a black crossbow bolt whistled past his head and pierced the throat of the samurai riding behind him. He choked and gagged on the blood squirting from his wound, and he fell from his mount dead in an instant. The others shouted one after another.
“Shinobi no mono! Shinobi no mono daaaah!” they screamed. Several other bolts darted past and pierced the other Samurai. One penetrated his breast plate through and through, but he plucked it from his chest like it was naught but a splinter in a finger. He drew his sword and reared his horse. Zhang Sunzan’s mount was struck as well, and it fell on its side immediately after the impact. Zhang crouched and scanned the area in search of the attackers. He drew his own sword and slashed away a bolt that would have otherwise pierced him between the eyes. Flash bombs detonated in quick succession all around him with blinding light and choking smoke. The startled horses reared in a panic, bucking off many of the disoriented samurai. The accompanying Academicians took strategic cover positions against the trees. The samurai, recovering from the bombing, followed suit to avoid incoming projectiles. Zhang’s ears rang and his vision blurred as he took cover beside his accompanies.
Several of the black-clad attackers leaped out from the bush and swung down from the trees, and charged toward them with great speed. It was an ambush. Their swords, sickles, and three-pronged Sais were fully drawn for close combat. Others spun slings around their heads. They were fully masked and agile and none of them uttered a word or cry. The Martial Academicians engaged first and met the attackers on even ground. The samurai escort took a moment to shake off the disorientation before drawing their own swords and charging with a war shout. Another flexed his longbow to full draw and released an arrow straight into the lead attacker’s heart.
These “shinobi” were quick to employ pyrotechnics and explosives in combat as a means to confuse and distract, but Zhang Sunzan would be ready for them. He twirled his sword around to flex his wrist and joined the fray until several more bombs ignited around the team and completely engulfed the road in smoke.
A blurred figure bolted toward Zhang in an assassination style maneuver, sword in full extension. With quick reflexes, Zhang gracefully sidestepped the attack and spun around to fatally slash the shinobi in the back. Several others leaped into the group from above. One had landed directly on top of an Academician and stabbed him in the neck as he fell to the ground. The rest of the Shinobi engaged the other Academicians and Samurai in full on hand to hand combat. The archer scored two more kills with his longbow before he himself was struck with a bolt to the center of his chest. Zhang Sunzan expertly cut down several more with circular sword strokes and accurate thrusts, redirecting and evading the shinobis’ offensive strikes as he cut them down. The Samurai utilized angular and triangular strokes with their two-handed style. Their curved katana, similar to sabers or scimitars, cut through the lightly-armored assailants with ease. One samurai had managed to sever an arm with one clean stroke before turning to instantly cut down another attacker. The sound of steel clashing against steel and battle cries filled the air. There must have been twenty to thirty of the shinobi participating in the sloppy ambush, and they were being dispatched one after another by the combined skills of the Martial Academicians and the Ashikaga Samurai.
One of the shinobi lit a bowl-shaped explosive into the clustered Academicians until Zhang swooped in, cupped the grenade in his hand, and tossed it back. It detonated right in the face of the thrower and sent his headless and disintegrated body flying into the bushes. Half a dozen others who were unfortunate enough to have been standing beside him were instantly dispatched by the shrapnel and shockwave of the blast. The remaining shinobi signaled for a retreat and made a bee line into the thick vegetation, but the Academicians gave chase. The samurai archer managed to stand to his feet with half the length of the crossbow bolt still in his chest. He loosed one more arrow with all his remaining strength. The long arrow shot straight and true and impaled one of the shinobi straight into a tree.
“Kill them all. They must not return to their lord!” shouted the lead red samurai in his language. Zhang Sunzan followed Ah’Chung and the other five Academicians to pursue the fleeing shinobi deep into the woods.
“They could be leading us into a trap,” said Zhang.
“Then we will have to take them down before we can spring it,” one Academician answered. They vaulted over a large boulder then executed a lache, or swing, onto a protruding tree branch in order to clear a stream. Zhang readied a spring-loaded steel bolt strapped to his wrist. A ring was attached to the triggering mechanism via a cord which launched the bolt with the force of a small crossbow. It was an assassin’s weapon that Zhang was more than willing to use in the field.
“I may be advancing in years but I am deadlier now than I was in my youth,” he said to himself. One of the shinobi came into view and had attempted to shoot Zhang with his crossbow. He ducked beneath the projectile and sprinted even harder to close the distance. With careful aim and the flick of the wrist, the bolt shot from his sleeve and pierced the shinobi at the back of the head.
Being at peak physical and mental fitness, the Academicians caught up to the remaining shinobi with ease. Two more shinobi were eliminated with aerial assassination techniques; the third was lassoed with rope and was instantly killed when his neck snapped from the hard pull. The fourth scattered caltrops over his tracks, but the pursuing Academician dive-rolled over them, and in one motion, drew an arrow, nocked it to the bow string, drew, and let it loose. The arrow had found its target deep into the shinobi’s spine, and he collapsed to a skidding halt. The last one violently stumbled over creeping tree roots and rocks. He struggled to rise to his feet but could no longer run. He stumbled back to the ground, his leg broken in several places. Zhang Sunzan and the Academicians surrounded him with their weapons aimed at his neck.
“Take this one for interrogation. Shackle him,” said Zhang as he tried to catch his breath. The fallen shinobi sat up on his knees and shouted a series of sentences that no one else understood. He then drew his short sword and dramatically stabbed himself in the abdomen, and cut himself across the belly from one side to the other. Before his final breath, he whispered his last words, sunk his head and died on his knees. The commanding samurai and the others approached the body. He removed the mask from the dead shinobi and observed a small, distinct marking on his neck.
“He is Koga clan: mercenaries of the emperor. These ones are foolish amateurs. Pawns,” he said pointing at the body. He spun his sword to slash away the blood that stained the blade and slowly returned it to his hip scabbard.
“The situation in Riben is worse than I thought,” said Zhang Sunzan, sheathing his own sword. “The nation is more divided that we realize. The shogun collides with their emperor for control of the nation.”
“Then, Sir Zhang, let’s proceed with the mission and gain an invaluable ally against the Snow Skins, and so that we may avenge our fallen brother,” said Ah’Chung.
There were four dead among them. Three of the samurai had valiantly died fighting, and one Academician was assassinated. These were losses no one could afford, but time was of the essence. They had to reach the Shogun as soon as possible. The company mounted up and rode posthaste toward the city of Kyoto. The capital of the nation was scarred, thrashed by war. Parts of the city lay in ruin or in ashes. War had ravaged the land for decades. The recent turn of events would only increase the volatility of the nation and lead to more war.
A new castle fortress could be seen from afar, and it towered over the treetops of the city. It was bright and ornate yet majestic and imposing. It was nestled not far from the imperial palace which was recently conquered by the shogun, taken a
way from the nation’s emperor. It rested upon a foundation of large stones, and was heavily guarded by many samurai loyal to the Shogun’s rule. They wielded spears taller than any Zhang Sunzan had ever seen and many held the longbows renowned for their outstanding range and accuracy. They were truly a nation of warriors.
After they had entered the castle gates and its compound, a trio of finely dressed unarmored samurai stepped out to meet Zhang as he dismounted his steed. The tops of some of their heads have been shaven—perhaps for a helmet’s better fitting. Their colorful and intricate clothes were rather loose-fitting and swayed gently with each stride.
“The Shogun has been expecting you. He has awaited your arrival for some time. This way,” he said with a deep accent.
“Has he taken a liking to the Ming emperor’s proposal?” Zhang asked.
They remained silent.
Together, they entered the monumental fortress and crossed the inner keep of the castle’s underbelly to ascend into the main hall and await the shogun’s appearance. The castle was large but was not much for furniture. The people of Riben were accustomed to sitting on the floor, and thus the castle featured minimal upholsteries. Not even a chair or a high table was present in the entire castle. Zhang Sunzan sat on his folded legs with one foot on top of the other, and he sat patiently with eyes closed as he waited for the shogun to make his appearance. He opened a folding hand fan and waved it beneath his chin at a syncopated pace. The nervous habit helped him to relax during his lengthy wait for the Shogun.
Ashikaga Yoshitane’s entrance into the room was not so dramatic. He nonchalantly walked toward his seat at the head of the hall but did not sit. He was surprisingly young like Emperor Zhu Youcheng, barely out of his mid-twenties, with a walking stride that displayed strength. He paced to the left and right of Zhang Sunzan, and his long dark robes danced with him. Yoshitane was clean-shaven and physically strong, and he began to speak before the Martial Scholar could properly address him with the quintessential honorifics.
“The dynasty of my household has held very fragile power since it began a century and a half ago,” he said looking pensively at the floor. “The lords of this land have long challenged my family’s shogunate. Even after the Ming emperor Yongle bestowed unto my ancestor the title ‘King of Nihon’, my authority and my ancestors’ authority have never been fully recognized by the lords ever since. Because of this, the struggle for power has continued to smolder throughout the decades and now the embers have grown into raging flames— flames that are slowly consuming the provinces. I did not believe that the world beyond the seas that surround us had a care of the happenings of this kingdom. However, my ancestors have paid many tributes to the Ming and I believe it is right they have offered to come to our aid to oust a common enemy,” he said. He slammed his fist against the wall. “These Terukk have taken great advantage of the unstable political situation of my country, and now they have turned over half of the kingdom against me. They think I do not see it but I know exactly what is happening in the shadows. Ever since they have sparked this damned civil war, I have not enjoyed a peaceful night’s sleep. Now I cannot and will not rest until I have personally witnessed their destruction!”
His whole body shook with a fiery anger that even surprised his personal guards. They sat cross-legged on the floor in two rows perfectly adjacent to the shogun’s throne. Disciplined as they were, Zhang Sunzan still caught the expressions of surprise in their eyes. Perhaps they have never seen him express his anger in such a way. He paced around the hall for several moments seemingly in deep thought.
“I accept the Hongzhi emperor’s proposal. The reclamation of my kingdom would greatly consolidate and legitimize my family’s Shogunate and then I will personally sail with my armies to aid the Ming in their battles against the Terukk when all has been said and done,” he declared. To Zhang Sunzan, the acting ambassador for the Ming, Shogun Yoshitane gave to him a return letter that detailed the current military and political situation of Riben, with a map outlining enemy positions, and all possible locations from which the Terukk could be staging their command through the nation’s former “emperor”. Along with the letter, he was given a small chest to be presented before Emperor Zhu Youcheng. It contained large amounts of gold and an assortment of items which symbolized gratitude and the start of their military alliance against the Terukk.
Zhang Sunzan did not even have to utter a word. The Shogun was on-board the moment he received the Emperor Zhu Youcheng’s letter. He was thoroughly pleased at the Shogun’s agreement, and smiled ear to ear as he bowed his way out and exited the castle compound. He and the Academicians and the Samurai that accompanied him rode in haste to make the lengthy trip back to the harbor for his return to Beijing. There was much to be done in Riben and he was determined to land a crushing blow to the Terukk agenda.
Sailing around the southern tip of the Riben archipelago to return to Beijing was not without action. The shogun’s enemies had taken to patrolling the southern waters in an attempt to intercept the Ming warships.
“It seems that our little visit to the Shogun wasn’t so much of a secret after all,” said Ah’Chung as he peered through a spyglass – a foreign novelty that was rather rare anywhere in the Middle Kingdom. Zhang Sunzan peered through it himself, and off the ship’s starboard, saw a very large vessel in the distance still far from cannon range. It hoisted the Riben emperor’s colors.
“Well, I didn’t expect our voyage to go completely unnoticed. I anticipated this. Though I find it strange that they sent only one ship to come meet us,” said Zhang Sunzan. The Riben emperor’s ensign flew highest above all the other flags that fluttered around the box-shaped ship. Scores of sculling oars rowed in unison from the vessel’s lower decks providing additional speed to the singular mainsail. “Tell the crew to prepare for battle,” Zhang said to Ah’Chung.
Ah’Chung turned and yelled to the entire crew. “Get ready for battle, men! All hands to stations and captain the guns! Mix that fire powder and unbox those rounds! Tiller, come to life and bring the ship hard to starboard!”
The crew scrambled to load the heavy cannons as drums were pounded and flags were waved to signal the escorting ships to prepare. Slowly, they moved into a linear formation as the crew manning the large tiller strained to steer the Phoenix Spirit toward the enemy ship. The five large battened sails swiveled around the mast as the ship changed its tack. Many scrambled to secure or pull the ropes of the rigging while the escorting ships followed suit. The enemy ship was closing in and was almost within range.
“Broadside cannons are ready to spit, captain!!” shouted one of the officers in the crew.
“Angle up the bow cannons!” shouted Ah’Chung. Zhang Sunzan echoed the order and the crew relayed the order to port gunners. The bow gun ports on the cannon deck opened up as two ultra-heavy cannons were pushed forward, fully loaded and ready to fire. “Wait for it!” said Ah’Chung.
Before the enemy ship got in range, its portside oars dragged through water while the ones on starboard hastened their pace. The ship consequently spun to port to reveal its broadside in preparation for engagement. Before Ah’Chung could give an order, spouts of boisterous blue fames erupted from the cannon-like protrusions of the enemy ship. A dozen disc-shaped projectiles the size of platters launched from the ship with great speed. Dark blurs streaked across the sky with a high-pitched whistle, arcing over the horizon, and raining down upon the Ming squadron.
The results were devastating. Most of the ordnances had slammed onto the decks and hulls of the three escort ships. One ship had one of its masts felled like a tree, and was inflicted with two streaking holes upon its broadside. The other two ships were shredded from multiple angles, with several crew dead upon impact.
The ships’ high fighting platforms, appearing like castle walls on the top deck, were still intact. The crews upon them scrambled to reload the guns. Zhang Sunzan could hear the pained scre
ams and shouts from the other ships, however. The Phoenix Spirit was not spared the opening salvo either. One of the projectiles slashed across the prow, narrowly missing a direct impact, while another smashed unto the poop deck and drove clean through the stern. The oars of the enemy ship were once again in motion as it attempted to spin around for another salvo.
“Blasted savages must be armed with Terukk guns and fuels!” spat Zhang. “Get ready to fire!” The Ming ships continued to close the distance at half speed to get within cannon range.
“Fire!” shouted Ah’Chung. “Fire!!” screamed Zhang Sunzan, echoing the order. Within moments, the bow cannons erupted with thunderous force, launching heavy explosive iron rounds that came crashing onto the enemy vessel. The other three escort ships fired their bow cannons consecutively and a total of eight shells smashed into the large box-shaped ship. Sparks, fire, and splinters flew every which way, and when the smoke had dissipated, what Zhang Sunzan and the crew saw was nothing short of disheartening. The damage the heavy cannons inflicted was less than satisfactory and a closer inspection revealed that the large Riben ship had been specially outfitted with a dozen plates of thick iron armor riveted onto its broadsides. Naught but shattered oars and dented or buckled armor plating had resulted from their return fire.
“She’s still spinning around for another shot at us, captain!” cried one of the crew.
“Hard to port! Hard to port!!” shouted Ah’Chung. Signal flags were waved, gongs were struck, and the drums pounded once again. The Phoenix Spirit moaned with the strain as the crew manning the tiller brought the rudder pivoting to maximum port. The change in direction was swift, but not swift enough. The enemy ship had already completed its rotation and launched a second salvo. Just like before, spouts of blue flames sent a dozen disc-shaped projectiles straight through the air, no longer arcing since the distance had been closed. “Brace! Brace for impact!” screamed Ah’Chung as he ducked for cover. Several of the projectiles landed harmlessly into sea, sending foam and salty lather to soak up the deck. One projectile cut directly through the thick wooden hull like it was mere paper and tore into the lower decks. Two more scraped across the topside deck and splintered one section of the guard rails and severing the left leg of one of the crew members. The ship jerked with the impact while horrific screams could be heard echoing from beneath the ship.
Clash of Alliances Page 19
