Nightblade's End

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Nightblade's End Page 7

by Ryan Kirk


  Koji studied the map the generals stood around. He saw the position of their army, Katashi’s force, and the surrounding geography. He frowned. He wasn’t an expert in warfare at this scale, but he saw an immediate problem with Katashi’s maneuver. He pointed at the map. “Doesn’t moving to the south mean that their supply line is exposed?” Both armies were nearing the wide river that separated House Kita from House Amari, but the bridge Katashi had used—and the focal point of his supply line—was more to the north. Turning to the south exposed it to attack.

  Fumio nodded. “Yes, but attacking the supply line brings us right up to the river. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to expect Katashi has forces stationed there.” The general shuffled some pieces around. “He could wheel around behind us and attack our own supply lines, catching us between his two forces without supply.”

  Koji bit his lower lip. He hadn’t thought of that, but as he looked at the map he realized how obvious of a ploy it was. Again, he was grateful he didn’t command armies. Then he frowned again, another thought occurring to him. “I assume Katashi knows as much of our movements as we do of his?”

  “A fair guess,” Fumio replied.

  “This might be an opportunity for the blades to separate from the rest of your forces. You could move to intercept Katashi’s expeditionary force, acting as though you are ignoring the supply lines. Then you won’t risk being flanked. At the same time, I could lead a group of blades… here.” Koji found a likely place on the map. “If your information is accurate, their supply line passes through this stretch of woods. It will reduce the threat of their archers to my warriors. We can break, or at least harass, their supply lines, giving you a chance to attack the main force.”

  The commanders looked skeptically at one another. Fumio spoke for them. “Katashi’s no fool. Those supply carts are well guarded. You’ll be heavily outnumbered, and if there’s one place they’ll be expecting an ambush, it’s in those woods. Without numbers, your chances seem slim.”

  Koji trusted himself with this, though. Large maneuvers of armies were beyond his training, but ambushes he knew. More than that, he knew the heart and skill of the blades with him.

  “Perhaps. But these are the men who burned our city. They will fall to our swords.”

  Fumio took in the mood of his commanders with a glance. There was another fact at play that everyone was too polite to say out loud. Who here would care if there were fewer nightblades? Koji didn’t ask for a detachment of well-trained soldiers. Even if the blades lost, they would damage Katashi’s lines, distract him, and force the enemy to commit more resources to defending their supplies. Koji suspected that Fumio had no particular love for the blades. So he would happily use them as tools.

  His suspicion was confirmed moments later. “Very well. We’ll try it. Report back here by first light for more planning.”

  Koji tried again to do a formal military bow, then left without another word.

  The time had finally come for them to fight back.

  Koji sat in a tree, focusing on his breath and on his surroundings. He was a ways off the ground, sitting above a road the supply train was traveling down. The scouts had already reported, and now it was only a matter of time. He started to run through the plan again, but stopped himself. The plan was far from perfect, but it was as good as any, and it was too late to change now.

  In the woods, his sense was alive. He could feel the energy of the trees up high and connected below the ground. Birds flitted from branch to branch in the warm spring air and the floor of the forest was alive with new energy. If he wasn’t preparing for battle, he would have been content to sit here for days on end and enjoy the gradual unfolding of life. He felt sorrow for those not as gifted as he was. So many people went through their days, unable to understand the beauty of the vast web of life that surrounded them. They were blind and didn’t even realize it.

  The same could be said for the supply train heading their way. Although they were still too far away for him to pick out individuals, he could tell that the supply carts were guarded by dozens of soldiers. Fumio hadn’t been wrong. Katashi was no fool, and had learned hard lessons from the warfare that had already occurred. Weak supply lines threatened an army.

  Koji waited, as patient as necessary. He kept his sense alive and open, always directed towards the oncoming supply train. They didn’t slow or hesitate. Instead, as they entered the woods, Koji sensed them pick up their pace. They knew the forest was a prime place for an ambush. But even so, they had little chance of spotting the blades. They were limited by their normal senses, and in the thick woods Koji’s gift, and the gifts of the others, traveled much farther than sight or sound.

  From his perch, he could only make out small parts of the road below. Several layers of limbs sheltered him from the sight of the road, protecting him from detection. But he could sense the first Amari scouts carefully testing the way below.

  Fooling the scouts was the first challenge. Koji was the front line of the ambush, with almost a dozen blades hidden in the woods behind him. He would lead the attack, waiting until the carts had passed. Once he dropped, the others would swarm.

  Koji kept his breath steady and observed the scouts as they passed underneath. He could sense their wariness in the way they moved, one slow step after another. Though they moved cautiously, they moved forward steadily, and soon they were well behind him. He breathed a slow sigh of relief and steeled himself for the battle to come.

  There were more carts than he had expected. He counted twenty before he sensed the rear guard, still a ways away.

  Koji considered the task before dropping. His blades weren’t just outnumbered, they were significantly outnumbered. The supply train was larger than expected and had the protection to match. The wise decision wasn’t to attack, but to wait for a better opportunity.

  But in his mind’s eye, he saw the burned bodies of the families in the villages they had passed. His grip tightened on his sword. He wouldn’t live in a world where such crimes went unpunished. If the risk was greater, he simply needed to fight harder. He took a deep breath and dropped from his perch.

  Time slowed down for him as he fell. He dropped from branch to branch, only putting his weight on each large limb long enough to slow his descent a little. Less than a heartbeat later, he was dropping from the lowest branch onto the nearest guard.

  The guard was looking up, alerted by the heavy rustling of the leaves. His mouth hung open, disbelief painted on his wide eyes as Koji dropped from above, drawing and cutting in one smooth motion. The cut was perfect, slicing through the guard’s neck, his head sliding off his shoulders, the look of surprise the last expression he’d ever wear.

  To Koji’s senses, the guards around him seemed to be moving underwater, their movements slowed by the very weight of the air. He dashed among them, none requiring more than two moves to kill. One archer tried to loose an arrow in his direction, but Koji sensed the release of the string and slid to the side, and the arrow passed harmlessly by.

  He sprinted toward one of the carts as the archer drew again, climbing up the wheel in one smooth move and vaulting over it as another hastily-aimed arrow cut the air behind him. On the other side of the cart he engaged with a handful of guards that had come together, seeking to overwhelm him with numbers.

  The idea was sound, but the four of them weren’t enough. Koji let his momentum carry him into their midst, keeping his guard close and his cuts small. The metallic ring of steel clashing against steel echoed in his ears, but even with four they weren’t fast enough to break his guard. Koji crouched low as another series of cuts reached out for him, the four guards suddenly aware they were as much a danger to each other as they were to him. Swords clanged above him as he made his cuts low, his steel slashing through tendons and blood vessels in the legs.

  He didn’t kill them all, but they all fell to his sword, losing their balance and their strength. He left them behind. They were no immediate danger, and they could be kill
ed later when the blades cleaned up the site.

  The archer who had harried him on the other side of the carts had crossed over in front of a pair of horses and Koji caught a glimpse of his steely-eyed determination. He sensed the release of the string and knew this was no hastily aimed shot, but an arrow shot directly toward the center of his body. Koji twisted, bringing his sword around and trying to present as narrow a target as possible.

  The flat of his sword slapped against the rear of the arrow, a chance move he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to duplicate. The arrow twisted, striking him sideways across his shoulder. The impact stung, but nothing worse.

  The archer was fast, another arrow already nocked in the bow, his arm coming back. But Koji was only a few paces away, too close now. The archer had enough time to release the arrow, but not aim. The arrow went wide as Koji covered the last two paces between them. His sword finished the job as he passed the archer, drawing a thick red line across his neck.

  Koji attacked another set of soldiers, then another when the first set had fallen too quickly. Time lost meaning as Koji lost himself in the battle. He only came back to himself when there was a break in the fighting.

  Looking for new opponents, Koji realized there weren’t many enemies left to fight. He cut down another two guards with easy moves, but no others remained close by. Only blades were left standing.

  Koji met their eyes, and he imagined he saw hints of the same anger he possessed burning in their own eyes. A number of the guards were still alive, injured and crawling along the ground, either to get to safety or to fulfill whatever orders they had.

  As the blades looked around, Koji knew he wouldn’t need to give the order. They all felt the same. They clutched their weapons and finished their mission.

  The next day, the blades received new orders from Fumio. He requested that the blades break off their attacks of the supply line and return to the main army. Koji held the short note in his hand and frowned. One attack, successful as it was, wouldn’t change the course of the war. He had intended to stay and lay further ambushes. But Fumio’s tone was urgent, and Koji wondered what the general knew that he did not.

  He did consider the possibility of disobeying the summons. Although pledged to Mari and House Kita, taking orders from one who was not a blade rankled. Worse, Fumio didn’t explain the reasons for his orders. As a general, he probably wasn’t used to doing so. But Koji needed to know retreating from the supply lines was the right move.

  Ultimately, he had to trust. He’d chosen to become part of this war, and his obedience was a responsibility he’d have to shoulder.

  They’d lost two nightblades in the skirmish. The deaths pained him, but given the odds they had been against, it was better than he had any right to expect. A few other blades had been seriously wounded, but the two dayblades had kept them alive. Koji hated knowing the deaths were his responsibility, but they were, and he had to make their sacrifice worth something.

  He gave the orders, and after two days of travel, they came upon the army. Koji had spent most of the trip in silence. The other blades gave him space, and although he hadn’t asked for it, he appreciated it.

  They arrived to cheers from the rest of the army. Supplies were quickly becoming the vital ingredient to winning these wars, and Koji’s blades had just brought an impressive amount.

  That night, though, the blades sat alone, as they usually did, around their campfire. That made Fumio’s appearance even more surprising. Koji would have guessed that if the general wanted an audience, he would have summoned the blade. Instead, he approached slowly and bowed slightly to Koji. “Would you walk with me?”

  Koji considered inviting the general to the campfire, but he had the look of a man who had taken a leap he was now regretting. Koji didn’t press the issue. He could feel the muscles of his back tighten as they walked away from the warm fire, Fumio clearly looking for a place to speak in relative privacy. Koji had no wish for more intrigue and secrets. He’d had enough to last him a lifetime. Koji believed anything said to him could be said in front of those he fought with. Unfortunately, those he served still held onto their precious secrets.

  Finally, Fumio spoke. “I’m sorry to request your return. I would have liked to keep you there, harassing the lines, but events have happened faster than expected.”

  Koji kept his face neutral, but he was surprised. He hadn’t expected Fumio to begin with an apology.

  “Word of your deeds has already reached me,” the general continued.

  Koji frowned. “What deeds?”

  Fumio stopped and looked up at the younger blade, a sudden understanding there. “You haven’t heard what they’re saying about you?”

  Koji shook his head. He hadn’t heard any talk about him, but then again, he hadn’t spoken with many people the last few days. Was that why the blades had given him space?

  Fumio continued. “The other blades have spoken of little but your prowess in the ambush. They say that even they had trouble tracking your movements. They say you killed over a dozen enemies on your own.”

  Koji was shocked. That couldn’t be right, could it? Like all battles, the fight had become a strange combination of hazy memories and crystal-clear moments. He found it hard to believe that he had killed so many, but the truth was, he couldn’t say for sure either way. He shook his head, trying to get his thoughts in order. “Thank you for letting me know, general, but I assume there is more.”

  Fumio stopped again, and Koji noted that they were now far away from prying ears. “I wanted to speak to you in private because I want to learn of your intentions.”

  The question unbalanced Koji. He’d never made any secret of his intentions. “I plan to help Mari win peace in her lands, and, if the opportunity presents itself, I will kill Katashi for the crimes he’s committed.”

  “A few moons ago that would have been treason.”

  “A lot has changed,” Koji acknowledged.

  Fumio stared off into the distance. “I don’t think you’ll get your chance soon. Katashi’s forces have changed direction again. They are making for the bridge south of here, the last one that could lead them to the safety of their own lands. I think your raid hurt them more than we predicted. They pushed too far, too fast, and now they’re scared of going back through that forest. If I had to guess, they’ll plant themselves on our side of the bridge, then route supplies to their army through Katashi’s lands.”

  “So what are we going to do?” Koji demanded.

  Fumio shrugged. “Wait. Their position is solid, but there’s more. Lord Isamu has invaded from the south.”

  Questions swirled in his head. “The other houses have allied against Kita?”

  “It looks that way. Perhaps it is because we’ve allied with the blades. Perhaps they just think we’re the weakest, or perhaps they’ve been thinking about this for a while. Regardless, now we’re fighting a war on two fronts, against two armies, each of which is larger than our own.”

  “Does everybody know about this?”

  Fumio shook his head. “I wanted to speak to you first. The other officers will learn tonight. But there’s a limit to what I can do. And there’s a third problem.” Fumio handed over a note with the seal broken.Koji glanced at the man and he shrugged. “I apologize. An overzealous clerk took it upon himself. He’s been punished.”

  The explanation wasn’t nearly enough. Fumio openly spied on letters being passed between the blades. They were allies, but they still didn’t fully trust each other. Koji took the letter and read it by the light of a nearby torch. The order made no sense. It came from Hajimi, calling all blades to the valley below Stonekeep.

  “Why would he do that?” Koji wondered aloud.

  Fumio looked decidedly uncomfortable, and Koji now understood his earlier concern. He wasn’t sure if the blades would remain with his army. “I wish I knew. I was hoping you might have some insight. My own decisions with this army are affected by your presence. If the blades are parting ways
, it limits our options. We don’t have the strength to destroy Katashi’s forces unaided, especially with Isamu tying up our other units in the south.”

  Koji felt as though he was being torn apart, just like the Kingdom was. He couldn’t serve both the blades and Mari, not if Hajimi was recalling the blades in the middle of a campaign. Who did he serve?

  “I’ll go,” he told Fumio. “I don’t know what this is about, but the loss of one warrior is better than the loss of many. I will find out what Hajimi desires, and you shall know. Until then, the blades will be yours. I’ll make the arrangements and leave at dawn’s light.”

  Fumio nodded, and Koji could see the man had wanted something more, something solid he could believe in. Unfortunately, Koji didn’t have anything to give. His loyalties were as split as everyone’s in the Kingdom.

  6

  The assassination attempt in the alley galvanized Mari. In retrospect, while every preparation she’d taken had been necessary, she realized she had been avoiding the inevitable confrontation. Her move was still far from a sure bet. She’d secured support, but wouldn’t know if it would be enough until the deed was done. Too many nobles refused to take any stand, content to wait until she was in power before supporting her. As much as she wished for it, one could never fully predict politics. Nothing was ever certain. Victory required action, not endless planning.

  Mari thought her decision would please Asa. The blade struck Mari as someone who hungered for action, someone who detested the reactivity necessary in being a bodyguard. But Asa sat listless in the corner, waiting for others to prepare. Every loyal blade and warrior was in the inn, strapping on their weapons and preparing for battle.

  She hoped tonight wouldn’t come to violence, but Mari recognized that the chances of Tatsuo simply stepping down were slim. The assassination attempt meant that at least one person knew Mari was in Stonekeep, and that someone was willing to kill the last surviving member of House Kita. Though they had no damning evidence, the signs all pointed to Tatsuo. For Mari, the attempt had pushed her over the edge. Tatsuo needed to be dealt with, now. If that meant violence, that was a sacrifice she was willing to make.

 

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