Nightblade's End

by Ryan Kirk

  Koji narrowed his eyes. “That’s not much of an offer for our surrender.”

  “And you’re not in a position to bargain. I only came because I wanted to see face-to-face the man who has terrified so many. You’ll never even get to my lines.”

  The statement was true, but Koji had hoped to see some shred of honor from the enemy commander. But, Koji realized, if Emon actually viewed them as criminals, his actions were honorable. Criminals didn’t deserve the same rights as warriors.

  Were they criminals?

  Koji couldn’t answer the question now. He needed to save his people, but Emon was right, he had no reason to offer anything.

  “You don’t know what I’m capable of,” he said, putting as much menace into his voice as he could.

  A flicker of doubt passed over the general’s face. Then he shook his head. “You can’t win.”

  “No, but I can make the price higher than what you wish to pay.”

  Emon considered the threat, briefly. “You lie.”

  “Then I’ll see you on the battlefield,” Koji said. He moved to grab his sword.

  His confidence must have done the trick. Emon held out his hand. “Wait.”

  Koji paused, his hand hovering over the scabbard.

  “You’ll surrender to me, asking only that your warriors go free?”

  Koji nodded, hoping his reputation had grown fierce enough that the bargain seemed like a deal.

  Emon thought in silence for some time. Finally, he made a decision. “Very well. I accept your surrender.”

  18

  Mari sat at her desk, her eyes staring at nothing in particular. For the life of her she could not force her mind to make coherent thoughts. She felt as though she was living in a never-ending nightmare from which there was no escape.

  The diplomatic envoy, which had become a funeral procession, had left just that morning. They had already sent birds back to their lands and Mari figured she would be dealing with a new ruler in the next few days. Worse, the ruler would believe that she had assassinated his predecessor. Any hope of a diplomatic solution had disappeared.

  Her military wasn’t prepared to deal with the threat they now faced. Although filled with brave and courageous souls, and well-equipped in terms of supplies, their lack of numbers would be their eventual doom.

  The blades were another problem. Much of the strength she had used to obtain her position came from them, but now that very association threatened everything she had worked for. Mari did not believe that Asa killed Isamu, but there was precious little evidence. The sword that was found buried deep in Isamu’s heart had been Asa’s. Being as no one knew exactly when Isamu was killed, it was possible that Asa had killed Isamu and then sounded the alarm on Mari’s life to provide an alibi.

  Asa was many things, but Mari didn’t believe—she refused to believe—that the woman she knew was capable of such an act. Besides, Suzo supported Asa’s story, which was all the verification that Mari needed.

  But what Mari knew to be true was not the same as what her people believed. No doubt, as she sat there, stunned, other nobles were already spreading the false story of what had happened. Combined with the pressures she already faced, Mari wasn’t certain that her rule would survive.

  She had no idea how to proceed. She had already leaned on every alliance she’d created, pulled in all the favors she’d ever been owed. Perhaps she could figure out how to survive one crisis, but when they just kept coming she felt like she was buried under an avalanche of disaster. Not for the first time, she considered the possibility of just giving in. Yes, she was certain that her people would suffer if she made that choice, but there was a limit to what she could do.

  A knock on her door startled her from her reverie. “Come in.”

  A messenger came into the room, carrying a note that was sealed with black wax. Mari’s heart, already close to broken, cried out in fear. What else could have possibly happened? She supposed the note could contain good news, but given the trend in her life as of late, she ruled such a chance slim.

  With fingers trembling, she opened the letter. The message was from General Fumio. In his clipped, terse handwriting he let her know that he had just received news that Koji and the blades with him had been captured. According to Fumio, Koji had surrendered and was being rushed to the front, where a public trial and execution would be held. Fumio didn’t say anything else in his note, but he didn’t need to, the implications silently condemning her. Like Mari, he knew what Koji’s tasks had been for the past few moons. In a trial, Mari had no doubt that the truth of her orders would come to light. Under other circumstances, she might not have been concerned. But with her position weakened as it was, and the blades already under suspicion for the death of another lord, Koji’s capture was the final event that would end her rule. She knew that as certainly as she knew the sun was going to rise the next day.

  Mari set the note down gingerly, as though treating it with respect would somehow change the contents of its message.

  Mari sighed and rubbed her palms against her temples, trying to force new life into her tired mind. There had to be a way to fix what was broken. But no matter how hard she thought, she found no answers.

  Morning turned into afternoon, and Mari still had no idea how to solve any of the problems that faced her. Trying to find a solution felt like banging her head against the thick walls of her castle. No matter how hard she worked, it made absolutely no difference.

  Her stomach twisted into knots when there was another knock at her door. A messenger entered, bearing a request from Arata for a meeting. The knot in Mari’s stomach tightened, and she was suddenly grateful that she had forgotten to eat lunch. Even though she did not know the details of what Arata would say, she could guess at the general tone of the meeting. Putting it off would make it no easier, though, so she accepted his request and ordered tea to be prepared.

  When Arata entered, Mari saw that he looked even older than before. She reminded herself that the problems she faced did not only affect her. In times like this it was all too easy to think only of oneself, forgetting that a crisis rarely affected only one person. Her problems were the problems of her land, even if she sometimes found herself slipping into only thinking about herself and how she could stay in power. That was a path that led to poor decisions, and she needed to be careful to always put her people first and herself second.

  Arata sat down across from her and she poured tea for both of them. Arata picked up his cup and gave her a grateful look. With a sigh, he immediately addressed the issue that had brought him there. “I just received word this morning that a nightblade has been caught in Lord Katashi’s house lands. It is said that he has been assassinating nobles and burning food, and that he does so on your orders.”

  Mari wondered at that. She had just gotten the bird from Fumio, and she doubted that anyone else in the army was sending messages back to the capital. The news had arrived far too quickly for it to be rumor that had spread. Someone inside the capital was actively working with Katashi. Mari suspected Yoshinori, but she still had no evidence. The more important problem was right in front of her. She wasn’t sure how to respond to Arata, so she remained silent, waiting for him to ask a question.

  “Is it true?”

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Suddenly, in front of this man she respected so much, the decision to send Koji seemed like a terrible mistake. But it had done its job. It had moved a substantial part of Katashi’s army away from the front. No doubt, his forces were suffering from a lack of supplies that at least gave her army a sliver of hope.

  The look of disgust on Arata’s face stopped any rationalizations running through her mind. But he was too honorable to shout at her. He spoke softly, but every word felt as though she was being stabbed. “Do you know why I supported you when you brought your claim?”

  Mari shook her head. She always assumed it had been loyalty to her family and the fact she controlled the strongest military forc
es.

  “I supported you because I am old enough to remember a time when the blades were practically venerated among our people. They healed injuries and illnesses and they kept the peace better than any lord or militia ever has. I know that they have made mistakes, but they do not deserve the fate that they have been given. You, and you alone, seemed to share that view. I looked at you and I saw a leader who could envision a future where the blades and our people lived in harmony.”

  Mari had an idea now where Arata was heading, and she felt tears trickling down the side of her face.

  “The mistake that the blades made was searching for more power when they had already been given enough. It caused them to make foolish decisions, and led to the distrust of the people. I see the same in you. Sending this young man to perform such a horrible task is exactly the reason why the blades will always struggle to find a home in the Kingdom. You’ve destroyed not only your own reputation, but any chance the blades had at a peaceful existence.”

  Mari began to weep. Every word Arata spoke was true. Every doubt she had about herself as a ruler suddenly became truth.

  She bowed down all the way until her forehead touched the floor. “I’m sorry. I always thought that I had the best interests of our land at heart, but you are right.”

  There was so much more that she wanted to say, so many versions of an apology that felt necessary, but she held onto whatever dignity she had left. Words would never be enough, and they both knew it.

  When she lifted her forehead off the floor, she saw that Arata’s eyes were also damp. “I forgive you, Mari. I believe that everything you did was because you felt it was right. But that has been true of both good and horrible rulers in the past. Out of respect for you and for your family, I will not say anything in public for the time being. But I will no longer support you as the head of the house.”

  Mari had known it was coming. She had known from the moment she received the request to meet. But to hear one of her family’s oldest allies and closest friends withdraw his support crushed her. She hated that she could not stop crying, but she managed to keep her voice even. “I understand, and I thank you for your wisdom and for your support, not just for me, but for my entire family.”

  Arata gave a stiff bow, barely keeping his own emotions in check. He stood up and left, leaving his tea unfinished. As the door closed behind him, Mari felt a sense of finality. Any chance that she might’ve had for holding her throne relied on his support. Without it, her hopes seemed more impossible than ever.

  Mari turned to one of the only places she knew where she would feel any sense of solace. She made the long walk from the castle to the shrine built in honor of her family. Her guards had secured the route ahead of time and made sure the shrine was empty of all well-wishers.

  Word of the dramatic events was just beginning to trickle through the city, but for now the city rested, quieting as evening came. Like the calm before the fiercest winds of the storm, the streets of Stonekeep stood quiet. Mari was grateful not to fight her way through streets filled with people. At that moment, all she wanted was to be left alone.

  The shrine was an oasis of peace. Mari felt the relaxation as soon as she stepped into the area. Her shoulders relaxed and her breath came more easily. Perhaps it was the beauty of the shrine, or perhaps it was the souls of her family, but there was something special about this place, something she would almost describe as sacred.

  She knelt down in front of the shrine, not trusting herself to put her worries and fears into words. She simply sat, her mind curiously empty after the chaos that had battered it for the past few days.

  She had no idea how long she’d been sitting there, but eventually she felt some small measure of peace. Perhaps intent didn’t matter much to the living, by perhaps for those who had rejoined the Great Cycle, it carried more weight. She stood up and exited the shrine, walking back toward the castle.

  On the way she stopped at an overlook, looking out at the valley that was a small sliver of the land and people she was responsible for. She stood there, lost in thought, until she felt a presence behind her. She turned and saw that Takahiro was standing there, a concerned look on his face.

  He didn’t speak, but stood beside her. She gave him a small nod of appreciation and then returned to her contemplative state.

  After a time, thoughts started to return to her. As wonderful as the relaxation had felt, the world demanded more of her and she could not escape forever. She turned slightly toward Takahiro. “You heard?”

  “Yes. He came to see me after the two of you spoke. He was heartbroken.”

  “He deserves to be. My decisions were wrong.”

  “Perhaps. But it’s easy to say that in hindsight. If you begin to doubt every decision, you will be no use to anyone.”

  “I will not be able to continue to rule.”

  Takahiro shifted so that he was facing her. “It should never matter whether you rule or not. You have always tried to serve the people. How will you do that next?”

  The question felt like a verbal slap. Just earlier that day she had thought about how she needed to stop thinking about herself, but her mind kept leading her down the same paths. She needed to think differently.

  If she could not be the ruler of her house, it was her responsibility to find somebody who would do the job well. Her first thought was Arata. He contained an incredible amount of wisdom and he’d always cared for his own lands well. He would make an excellent choice, except for his age and the fact that Mari had no idea how she could secure the position for him. Yoshinori had played his cards well, and Mari hadn’t done nearly enough to stop him.

  A sudden curiosity seized her. “Why do you continue to serve, even when you know the mistakes I’ve made? Why are you still here?”

  Takahiro looked pained that she’d even asked the question. “I’ve not always agreed with you,” he began, “but you’ve proven me wrong several times, and you’ve inspired me. We all make mistakes, but I know that you are focused on serving your lands, not just ruling them. I will always serve you.”

  The last line was uttered with a conviction that surprised Mari. She’d always known that Takahiro was loyal. But the emotion behind that statement went deeper than mere loyalty. When she recognized it, she suddenly understood and considered herself a fool for not realizing earlier.

  The sudden understanding led to others. She saw new opportunities that hadn’t been there before. A new idea blossomed in her mind, and for the first time in what seemed like ages she had hope once again.

  Takahiro seemed to notice the difference as well. “What?”

  She smiled. “I know what I’m going to do. I am going to give up the leadership of my house.”

  19

  Asa knocked on the door to Mari’s office. Even though the guards outside didn’t stop her, she could see the way they tensed as she approached. Whether others believed her or not, the rumors had done their work, perhaps too well. Even the women Asa herself had trained didn’t completely trust her.

  A moon ago, that might have made her angry. She might have raged against the unfairness of it all and made plans to leave the Kingdom. She still felt frustrated, but not in the same way. She recognized that she had brought some of this on herself. No one stood alone in life, no matter what they thought. Had her behavior been different, she might be facing overt shows of support instead of suspicion.

  The door opened and Mari stood there, looking more energetic than Asa had seen her in some time. Mari’s posture had changed, no longer carrying the burdens of her people by herself, as she had for so long. In a way, they’d had to learn the same lessons. Perhaps that was why Mari had always interested and frustrated her so much.

  Mari’s smile made Asa’s complaints disappear. Here, at least, was one woman who had never doubted her. That trust meant more than any amount of gold. Never again would she take it for granted.

  Asa bowed and entered the room, taking in the familiar office with a glance. Papers w
ere scattered everywhere, even more so than usual. She’d heard that Mari had been busy these past few days, but it looked like the rumors didn’t go quite far enough.

  Of course, the whole castle was abuzz with news, as was most of Stonekeep. A person could hardly turn a corner without hearing something about the upcoming event. From what Asa had heard, most people were overjoyed. The average citizen of Stonekeep could barely keep up with all that had happened this summer, and most were excited by the stability that a marriage would bring to the land.

  Mari didn’t look like a woman whose wedding was the next day. She looked like an overworked but cheerful administrator.

  “So, you’re really going through with it?” Asa asked.

  Mari nodded, an even wider grin breaking out on her face. Asa had never considered Mari to be the type who would marry. Of course, as a noble lady, especially one of House Kita, she would marry eventually, but Asa had never put much thought into it.

  “Congratulations,” she offered.

  “Thank you. But there’s much to be done before tomorrow.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  Mari’s face fell. “The first is something I don’t want to do, but I must.”

  Asa interrupted her. “I’m no longer the head of your guards?”

  Mari shook her head. “I know you never loved the position, but I didn’t want it to end like this.”

  Asa was surprised how disappointed she was. Of course, she’d known the move was coming. Mari didn’t have any other choice. But even though she had never wanted to guard Mari, she felt a pang of sorrow at not having the opportunity anymore.

  “We don’t always get to choose our endings. It’s been an honor to serve you.”

  Mari’s eyes narrowed at Asa’s attitude. “We haven’t had much time together since Isamu was murdered. What’s changed?”

  Asa shrugged, and Mari let the question go after a long heartbeat.