by Ryan Kirk
She couldn’t let that happen. She’d found something in Starfall worth fighting for: her people. Growing up, she’d never put enough importance on the fact that she was a blade. Now she did. She would fight for them, and maybe even die for them, if that was required.
Soon she made it to the center of the camp and was admitted into Hajimi’s tent. Even though the shelter was larger than most, it still felt small. Hajimi’s living space closed in on her, the same way the Kingdom seemed to be suffocating the blades.
Asa stopped when she saw Koji in the tent. Until that moment, she had thought he still fought in the west. She’d heard rumors of him only a few days ago. The man could barely make a cut without creating a new legend somewhere.
He gave her a bow that almost seemed apologetic. Had her life contained more light in it, she might have thought of being angry at him for not informing her of his movements. But between her responsibilities above and the questions of their survival below, she found that it was just good to see him again. If nothing else, he was a rock in trying times.
Hajimi didn’t waste time in polite conversation. A servant poured tea for them, and Hajimi promptly ignored it as he motioned for them all to sit. “The council has decided to form groups of volunteers to lead expeditions for a new home. The rest of the blades will learn of this when the gathering begins.”
Asa didn’t catch the nuance as quickly as Koji did. The legendary nightblade was a methodical thinker, but his intuition sometimes made leaps ahead of others. “I find it hard to believe we’d find any other land to settle in besides this,” Koji said.
Asa felt as though there were a question in the statement, but she still didn’t understand. Then insight struck. “You’re planning on leaving the Kingdom.”
The lack of expression on Koji’s face told Asa he’d already figured it out. Hajimi just gave a small nod. He looked older to Asa, time slipping past the head of the blades faster than it did for others. Not for the first time, Asa felt grateful not to be in his position. “Not planning, exactly. Preparing, perhaps. There is still some hope that a peaceful resolution can be found among the houses and the blades, but it seems less likely by the day.”
“You’re giving up,” Koji said.
Asa couldn’t detect a hint of emotion in Koji’s voice; it sounded as though all hope had been drained from him. Asa could imagine his feelings. Koji wanted the blades fully behind Mari, but Hajimi wasn’t foolish enough to gamble their entire future on one person. Everything Koji had worked toward over the past moon was slipping away from him.
“Quite the opposite,” replied Hajimi. “My responsibility is to the future of the blades. One of those possible futures is here in the lands of House Kita. I wish that to be the case, but I must prepare for all eventualities. Mari’s victory in this conflict is far from certain, and there will be no home in the other house lands. I’m not giving up, but giving us a hope for new life.”
Asa saw Koji’s eyes flicker upward, cold fury behind them. Something in him had changed, Asa realized. A few moons ago, this conversation would have had him up and pacing. But now that willpower that made him so dangerous on the field of battle contained his energy. He had matured, and that made him more dangerous. Even Hajimi wilted a bit under that gaze.
“Why did you ask us here?” Koji asked. “You wouldn’t if you didn’t have an ulterior motive.”
Hajimi regained some of his composure. “I wished to discuss the council’s decision with you before the gathering. Many of the blades look up to you, and it is due to your argument at our last gathering that we are here now.” He paused, then looked at Asa. “And you are closest to Lady Mari. We must walk a fine line between protecting our interests and aiding her.”
“You want our support,” Koji said.
“I do.”
For a tense moment, the silence in the tent pressed against her. She hadn’t expected any of this.
“I will speak out against your decision,” Koji decided.
Hajimi looked pained. “Surely you understand the position we find ourselves in.”
“Yes. But you risk splitting the blades at a time when we need a unity of purpose.”
Hajimi pushed back. “The world is not as black and white as that, Koji, and the blades are not children, obsessed with whatever goal I put in their sights. We can handle the complexity of this new world.”
Koji looked ready to argue the point, but Hajimi stopped him with a motion, as though an idea had just occurred to him. “Perhaps we can borrow a method from Mari herself.”
Invoking Mari’s name was enough to get Koji to truly pause. “What do you mean?”
“Let the people decide which path they want to take.”
“Another vote?” Asa finally found her voice.
“No. Koji is right to be focused on protecting Mari’s interests, but the expeditions will happen. But the council can give you time to speak, Koji, to ask for volunteers. You fight for Mari, and you can make the case for what you do. Those who choose not to fight can volunteer to be sent on expeditions.”
Koji nodded thoughtfully as he thought about the idea. Asa, having been involved with Mari’s dealings for the past moon or so, felt a tickle in the back of her mind. Something about this didn’t sit quite right with her.
“That seems fair,” Koji finally decided. Asa saw the briefest flicker of a smile across Hajimi’s face, and then she understood. From beginning to end, this whole scene had been scripted. Hajimi caught her gaze, and she saw that he knew that she knew what just happened.
The ploy was brilliant, now that she thought about it. Many, if not most, of the blades would follow Koji. Given the nightblade’s growing legend and conviction, he’d form a force of blades larger than any seen in dozens of cycles. And Koji was the right person to lead them. Hajimi might have been manipulative, but that didn’t make him wrong. Koji would guarantee that the other houses’ armies didn’t get close enough to Stonekeep to threaten the blades, giving them time to find another home, or potentially even bring an end to the war and make the whole issue moot.
It also gave the rest of the blades another goal. Koji was right about the blades needing purpose. Hajimi simply realized they couldn’t all serve one master.
Asa couldn’t imagine what the Kingdom would look like without the blades, but for the first time in recorded history, that possibility seemed all too real. She knew, too, why Hajimi had invited her. She needed to convince Mari to continue to extend her protection to the blades, even as the blades made plans to leave. She finished her tea and stood up. “Thank you, Hajimi, for your service to the blades. Knowing the plans for the meeting frees me to return to my duties immediately. I shall take my leave.”
A look passed between her and Hajimi. She gave him a small nod, to let him know she was aware what must be done.
“Give my best to Lady Mari, please.” Hajimi bowed.
As Asa left the tent, she felt elation pass over her. Next to Koji, she couldn’t have expressed her feelings, but the idea of leaving this broken Kingdom behind them sounded like a dream come true.
Asa barely made it a dozen steps before she sensed Koji coming up behind her. Even in the crowded camp, his energy stood out to her, like a bright torch lit in the middle of the night. His strength made even the other blades look like children in comparison. She wondered if he knew how strong he felt to others.
“Asa, wait!”
She stopped, knowing already the argument the two of them would have. She didn’t want to fight. With all the struggle in her life, she wanted this to be easy. But Koji rarely took the easy path.
Koji sensed her displeasure, but guessed wrongly. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to warn you about my coming. I only just made it here myself, running several horses to the ground to get here in time.”
Asa wrapped her arms around him and he stiffened, the display unexpected. She held him close for a moment as he awkwardly returned the embrace. She liked the feeling of how stable he was. Even no
w, caught off-guard, she wasn’t sure she could push him over: his stance was solid, his feet rooted to the ground. As frustrating as he could be, she appreciated his simple consistency.
That consistency had meant the world to her back when she’d been lost in doubt. Perhaps more than any other reason, that was why she had always cared for him. No matter how mad the world seemed to become, Koji would always be there, as unmoving as a mountain. In the world of shifting loyalties that defined her time back in Stonekeep, Koji was a breath of fresh air.
After a few moments she stepped back. “You will lead the blades against Mari’s enemies, then?”
He gave a small frown, as though she had just asked a question so obvious it didn’t need an answer.
Asa almost laughed at his expression. It never even occurred to him that others would feel differently, his belief was so strong. “Don’t you think it would be nice to go on one of those expeditions, exploring unknown lands, trying to find a new home?”
He shook his head, as Asa knew he would. “Not when there is so much to do here.”
She realized it would be hard to have this conversation. Their starting points were so different from one another. The temptation to skip it was powerful, but she couldn’t. Koji needed to know how she felt. She’d made her decision almost immediately after she left Hajimi’s tent.
“I would like to go on one of the expeditions,” she said.
Koji looked as though he’d been slapped across the face. A moment of doubt passed over his face, as though he thought she was joking with him. Then he realized how serious she was. “You would abandon Mari?”
Asa swept out her hands, indicating the temporary city surrounding them. “I would abandon the whole Kingdom for the blades.”
“There are no blades without the Kingdom.”
“Maybe not in the past, but there’s nothing that says we need to remain here. We are strong, and perhaps even stronger on our own. What keeps you here?”
She knew part of the answer already, even if he couldn’t articulate it himself. He felt tremendous guilt over his past, and he saw the defense of Lady Mari as his redemption.
“Asa, people are suffering out there. I’ve seen villages burned, women taken by soldiers, and fields destroyed. I have the strength to do something, so I must.”
She reached out to him, feeling the pain in his voice. “I know how you feel. But you can’t save everyone. Why not focus on saving the blades? We are your people.”
Koji pulled away from her touch. “It’s wrong, Asa. If we focus only on ourselves, we’ll lose everything.” He paused for a moment. “Does this mean that you’ll not guard Mari?”
Asa didn’t answer, the implications of her intentions obvious.
“Asa, you can’t. If Mari isn’t protected, everything we do, all the blades we’ve already lost, will be for nothing.”
His conviction moved her, but she couldn’t be swayed.
He pushed forward. “Don’t you see? Even if you’re right, and the blades need to leave the Kingdom, Mari needs to be protected. She’s the only noble willing to give us shelter. If she dies, the rest of the lords would band together against us, and we couldn’t defend ourselves. If we’re going to find a new home, we need time. Mari needs a strong warrior protecting her. I’ve heard of the assassination attempts, so you know it’s true. Others can go on the expeditions. To protect the blades, you need to stay with Mari.”
Against her desires, she had to admit he had a point. A hundred rebuttals ran through her mind, but they all sounded like the whining of a petulant child. Koji was right.
“Will you go with me, when the time comes?” she asked.
He looked at her curiously. “You mean leave the Kingdom?”
“Leave everything. Leave the lives of the blades behind. We can start a life somewhere new, together. A life where we can avoid violence instead of running toward it.”
Koji looked out into the distance, staring at something Asa couldn’t see.
“Yes. I would,” he said, stepping closer to her and wrapping her in his own embrace. “I would leave it all behind with you.”
8
Koji stepped out of his tent, surprised at how hot the morning already was. Summer was near its peak, and while the long days made for plenty of time for training, they also brought more than enough heat.
Despite the heat, Koji looked around him with a deep sense of satisfaction. He was surrounded by blades, over a hundred total. Together, they marched toward Fumio’s army, prepared to join the battle for Mari’s lands.
Although the gathering had happened just the way Hajimi predicted, Koji still found himself surprised every morning to discover he still led a band of dedicated blades. He had over ninety nightblades at his command and over a dozen dayblades. They were the largest single force of blades the world had seen in generations. His heart beat faster when he looked at them, knowing that he could change the course of the war with a force this size.
He would need to, too. Thanks to Lord Isamu’s actions to the south, Fumio had been forced to tear off units of his cavalry to reinforce Mari’s weaker forces near the southern border. The lack of men was already telling, and Fumio absolutely needed the blades before the battle was joined.
A smaller force of blades had also left from the valley below Stonekeep to reinforce Mari’s southern armies, commanded by General Masaaki. Koji had never met the general personally, but he heard the man was a solid commander.
Koji’s days had been full as of late. He had two pressing responsibilities. The first was to reach Fumio to provide support for his battles. The second was to prepare the blades for those battles. Rarely in the history of the Kingdom had so many blades been summoned to one task. Nightblades were used to fighting alone or in small groups. They had no training in formations or large-scale battle tactics. Koji needed to prepare them before it was too late.
So half their days were spent traveling, the other half spent training. Koji experimented with dozens of different strategies, welcoming suggestions from all those with him. Every night, around the fires, the entire unit discussed what had worked and where they had struggled. The blades were all excellent warriors and learned quickly, but Koji wasn’t convinced they were learning fast enough.
Time had become one of their many enemies. Katashi’s forces seemed willing to sit for now, but Isamu was moving up from the south. It didn’t take a master to see that both lords would attack at roughly the same time. Koji and his forces needed to reach Fumio by the time that happened. Ideally, they were three days away, but they were now in position to ride hard for one long day if needed. That, at least, was one pressure off Koji’s mind.
They received a bird that afternoon, right after they set up camp to train for the rest of the day. Fumio’s handwriting was terse and filled with information. Katashi’s army had begun to move. Fumio responded by moving his own troops. Mari’s general expected that within the next two days, the subtle maneuvers for control of the battle location would be over and the true fight would begin.
Koji elected to ride hard for Fumio. He would have preferred another few days of training, but better to be at the battle rested than to be rushing in at the last moment. They packed up their tents and rode well into the night to reach Mari’s forces.
The next morning, he allowed the blades to sleep in late. The Great Cycle favored them, and Koji received a message that the battle would not happen until tomorrow. Koji ordered the blades to engage in some light training, but then to rest. Tomorrow would be hard enough without being exhausted.
The heat on the day of battle felt oppressive, as though the weather itself judged their actions. A messenger came to Koji before sunrise with his orders, orders he didn’t find surprising in the least. He summoned the blades together.
“As expected, Fumio has placed us just off the center of the battlefield, where some of the fiercest fighting is expected. We’ve been given uniforms of House Kita, so as not to make an obvious target of ourselv
es. Our mission is straightforward. We’re to break their lines and threaten their headquarters. Our spies tell us that Katashi will be present on the battlefield, and if we can kill him, we have the opportunity to end this war before any more lives are lost.”
Pride twisted Koji’s stomach into knots as he looked around the circle of warriors. He tried to memorize the faces of each of the people under his command. He wasn’t naive enough to think they were all going to survive. They had trained with new tactics that would hopefully protect them, but the Great Cycle would call some of them home today. It was certain.
“Remember why we fight. If we can give our lives to protect others, our sacrifice is not in vain. I will be front and center with you, and we will break Katashi’s lines. We will end this war today.”
He was surrounded by faces filled with silent determination. Today he would show the world the true strength of the blades. A final thought occurred to him.
“Remember that this is the same army that burned Starfall to the ground. Let us remind them how much of a mistake that was.”
Koji and his blades were at the lines when the sun rose over the battlefield. The day promised excruciating heat, but Koji could still feel a hint of cool morning breeze. It seemed a shame, he thought, that they would fight on a day that promised to be so beautiful. The morning sky was painted in shades of purple and dark blue, with barely a cloud to be seen. It just didn’t seem right to die under such a beautiful canopy.
He wondered how many warriors on both sides of the battle would agree with him. Never in his life had he been part of a fight of this scale. Thousands of warriors lined up behind him, but Katashi’s forces across the plains and shallow valleys seemed as numerous as the grass. From his vantage point, Koji could barely make out the end of the enemy lines. It was one thing to know your forces were outnumbered, but to see that difference in front of you, knowing that a sea of steel and flesh stood between you and your target, was something else entirely.