by Ryan Kirk
Hajimi saw the expression on her face and read it without problem. “Yes, we’ll have to fight, but we need the time to gather food and supplies. We’ve been preparing as fast as possible, but given how difficult it is to feed people right now, it wasn’t as fast as we would have liked.”
“Where will you go?”
Hajimi shook his head. “You’ve been the strongest ally the blades have had in at least a generation, Lady Mari, but this I cannot tell you. The Kingdom will not have us anymore, and while many of us still desire to serve the Kingdom, the greatest service we can provide now is to leave. My only hope is that you’ll be able to take advantage of our departure. We will punch a hole in the enemy lines. It will be your responsibility from there.”
Mari’s eyes narrowed. Even for the blades, attacking the enemy lines seemed foolish. Katashi had trained huge numbers of archers to fight against the blades, felling them from a distance. Against the sheer number of archers and soldiers, Mari didn’t see how the blades could survive. “What are you planning?”
“Three nights from tonight, on the evening of the new moon, we will leave. We will move in the shadows, and we will attack them as they camp. I have no doubt we will kill many, but we won’t seek to destroy them. Our goal is simply to escape. But if we can do this as a gift to you, as our final gift, we will.”
Mari contemplated the horror of what was being discussed. The nightblades didn’t need torches or light to fight by. They wouldn’t be able to mask their movements, but in the new moon the archers wouldn’t see well. It would be a devastating battle, on both sides. Perhaps the blades could sow enough confusion to give House Kita a chance to survive. If Takahiro could launch his attack at dawn, they might just have a chance.
The effort would be bloody, though. Very bloody. But did they have a better opportunity to win the war? Mari had considered the problem for a long time and hadn’t found any better solutions.
“You’ll do this, regardless of the actions of my house?”
Hajimi nodded.
“You know that this will finish the blades. Even as it is, I’m not sure I see a way to restore your power, but this will poison the people against you for generations.”
“We understand. But we hold no hope for ourselves any longer. You alone have the foresight to take our sacrifice and forge peace with it. Even if we are hated, we can give this one last gift. It will be your responsibility to ensure the peace lasts.”
With that, Hajimi stood. He offered Mari one last bow. “It has been an honor fighting by your side, Lady Mari.”
Before she could even reply in kind, he left. She watched him go, and Mari wondered if she would ever see any of the blades again.
Two days later, the deadline for action approached. The casual observer wouldn’t have noticed any preparations, or at least Mari hoped that was the case. But behind the scenes, both she and Takahiro had been busy. Hajimi’s intuition had guided him well. Takahiro had been furious at the news, both because he felt betrayed by the blades abandoning his house, and also because as a soldier he saw this sort of action as entirely dishonorable.
But what could they do? They couldn’t turn on the blades, and they couldn’t sacrifice the opportunity the blades would give them. Takahiro hated the blades, and hated himself for the decisions he’d been forced to make, but he’d still made them. Everyone understood the stakes.
There was one part of Koji’s letter that Mari hadn’t shared with Takahiro. Now, just before it became too late, she was beginning to understand how Katashi’s devious mind worked. And although they still had a battle down in the valley below to fight, they had their own here in the castle.
Mari sat in her private reception room, trying not to fidget nervously. She looked around again, making sure that everything appeared just so. She could have used the office for this task, but she didn’t want to. She wanted to look weak and beaten. Having the meeting here would promote that idea. She glanced back at the door that led to her bedchamber. The door stood open, but the room looked empty inside. She walked around the reception area, her eyes always on that door.
Finally satisfied, she returned to sitting. Eventually there was a knock on the door, and Suzo opened it slowly to admit Yoshinori.
Even the sight of the noble made Mari’s skin crawl, but she controlled her revulsion. She asked Suzo to bring in tea, and the guard nodded silently, her face betraying nothing. She’d been an excellent choice to replace Asa.
Yoshinori’s eyes swept over the room, as though looking for a trap. Mari motioned for him to sit, and he did. The tea came in moments later and they sat there in silence, each studying the other. Mari gave him long enough to become comfortable with the environment, then proceeded. “Thank you for coming.”
Yoshinori didn’t even bother with proper manners. “What do you want, Lady Mari?”
Mari pulled out a letter. She held it up, then tossed it casually between them. “I received a message from one of my spies not long ago, a serving woman who’s been in Katashi’s employ now for cycles. She claimed to have overheard a discussion in which you figured prominently. Katashi claimed that he had an assassin in our city. One who killed Isau, and who killed Lord Isamu while making it look like a nightblade’s fault. He claims that the assassin’s next target is me.”
“And what does any of that have to do with me?” Yoshinori wasn’t even flustered.
“Well,” said Mari, “Katashi also claimed you knew all about this. That you were a conspirator with him. Yoshinori, how could you?”
The letter in front of them did say that, but it was based on Koji’s letter to her, which hadn’t painted nearly so complete a picture. Koji only knew that Katashi was coordinating with a noble inside Stonekeep. But Mari was confident in her deductions. She only needed Yoshinori to believe that she had evidence.
“How could I?” Yoshinori shook his head, glancing around the room one last time. “I could because I believe you are destroying this house. Anyone with reason should see it. I regret the loss of life, but a leader must be able to make the hard decisions. Thanks to my work, this house will survive.”
Mari didn’t think she’d get any closer to a confession from him. “If you really believe in saving these lands, Yoshinori, throw your unconditional support behind my husband. I will never show him this letter. You have my word.”
The statement had been carefully crafted. Mari assumed Yoshinori saw her as idealistic and naïve, and that if she was going to attempt blackmail, it would look something like this.
Yoshinori chuckled. “Lady Mari, you believe in your own lies, don’t you?”
Mari tried to appear shaken.
“I don’t care if you share that with your husband. What will he do? In less than three days Lord Katashi will be here, and Takahiro will step down or be killed. And finally, I’ll lead this house. We both know you don’t have the support of enough nobles to execute me. If you tried, half your house would revolt.”
“Is there no way we can come together and unify our people?”
Yoshinori stood up, apparently tired of this thread of conversation. “In a few days, Lady Mari, you may come to me begging for mercy. Until then, do not bother me again. There is much work to be done.”
He turned and left the room, and Mari waited a few moments after the door was closed to allow herself to smile.
Takahiro and a select group of nobles stepped out of the bedchamber, where they’d hidden far out of sight, but where they’d been able to hear the entire discussion. Arata was present, of course, but more important, several of Yoshinori’s supporters stood there, too. They’d been selected carefully. Some of Yoshinori’s supporters would stand behind him regardless of his actions, but there were several who supported him only because they believed he was the best choice to lead their house lands. Like her, they supported dissent, but could never condone treason.
All it took was one glance at the faces around the room to know that it had worked. Yoshinori had underestimated her fo
r the last time, and had hung himself cleanly.
The nobles spoke softly for a few moments, gathered around Takahiro. As tempted as Mari was to join the conversation, it would be better if Takahiro alone handled this challenge. She waited demurely, off to the side, as Takahiro gave his guidance to the other nobles.
In short order the meeting finished, and Takahiro escorted all the nobles to the door. Once they were alone, he turned back to Mari. “You’re sure it was wise to allow him to leave? He deserves death, but at least we could have captured him.”
Mari shook her head. “Better the enemy you know than the one you don’t. Now that Yoshinori’s treason is known, we can feed him false information. If that is relayed to Katashi, that’s another advantage we have. He can watch all his plans crumble around him, and then we can arrest him and execute him.”
Takahiro nodded. The whole setup had been Mari’s idea, but he saw the wisdom in it. Takahiro wasn’t a subtle person by nature. When he saw a problem, he attacked it head on. Mari wasn’t sure he’d have survived the political infighting of House Kita on his own. But he was a leader they could look up to in troubled times, and Mari was happy to work with him to rule the house. They’d taken care of one problem, and now there was only one left. They needed to survive the next few days and force the other houses to sign a new treaty.
22
The sun fell below the mountains behind Stonekeep, and Asa and Koji packed up their tent and supplies. As usual, torches had been lit as night fell, and combined with the fading light of the sun, there was just enough light to work by. The torches would remain lit and in place even as the blades began moving out, supporting the illusion that the camp was still present.
The past few days had been filled with preparation. Carts were acquired, food was prepared and stored, and organization was determined. The blades had always had a home, but that home was no longer theirs. When they left the encampment, they would be a nomadic people, at least for a while.
Asa and Koji had learned the news with the rest of the blades. The council had decided on a new land beyond the Kingdom, a place where they were certain the blades could live in peace. Hajimi didn’t say more, not wanting to give away anything to the lords. As Koji’s experience had so well proven, not all the blades were loyal. Some had loyalties to a lord, or only to themselves. Only Hajimi and a few others knew where they would go. The other blades were asked to take the journey on trust alone.
Asa didn’t think Hajimi would have much trouble with most of the blades. As she’d walked among the camp the last few days, she’d seen enough to know that the blades were near the edge of their limit. Hajimi had recalled the blades fighting with Lady Mari’s forces, and Asa saw their exhaustion-lined faces, the empty stares that indicated warriors who had pushed too hard.
Even those who had lived in the camp all summer looked ready for a new start. Their homes had been destroyed, and now they lived in a tent city with the constant awareness that they were surrounded by enemies. That inability to relax, to enjoy life without worry even for a few days, took a toll on a person. Asa had never imagined she’d see the blades in such horrible conditions.
Hajimi held out hope, though. He shone a light at the end of their darkness. Like miners trapped in a tunnel, the blades scrabbled furiously toward that last glimmer of light.
Hajimi’s plan was simple. As night fell and it became harder to observe the camp, they were to finish packing and storing their supplies. Carts had been left throughout the camp, and all packing that could reasonably be done beforehand had been. But as soon as night fell, the tents and final supplies would be loaded onto the carts. The carts would then move out, with most of the remaining nightblades leading them out the valley and eventually to the north. Dayblades and those too weak to fight would stay close to the carts.
The mouth of the valley that led to Stonekeep was well over a league wide, but Katashi’s forces had joined with those of the new Lord Satoru, Isamu’s successor. They had filled most of the valley. The blades were going to drive straight through the heart of Katashi’s forces. Koji had observed, when he heard the plan, that when the blades left the Kingdom, they would destroy most of the lords’ ability to make war as well. Asa wondered how intentional that decision was.
Asa helped Koji finish packing the cart that he would be escorting. Even though there wasn’t anything physically wrong with him, Koji had decided not to take part in the upcoming battle. He would escort a cart himself, following the other nightblades as they cleared a path.
The two of them had talked late into several nights about Koji’s challenges. At one time, his energy had been almost blinding, even at rest. Now, he felt almost like a regular citizen, his skills as a blade almost useless. Asa firmly believed that Koji had lost his center. Koji wasn’t Koji unless he was fighting for something he believed in, but he’d seen the directions that blind belief could lead him in. Because of that, he didn’t believe in much at all, and the source of his strength had waned.
She hated to see him like this, but he was finding his way. Choosing not to take part in this battle was part of it. He’d told her that their night raid on Katashi’s forces was far too similar to a choice he’d made over the summer, and he didn’t want to be involved in anything like that again. He’d help the blades by escorting the cart, but he wouldn’t repeat his mistakes. Asa wished he would lend them his strength, but she respected the decision he’d made.
“Are you ready?” he asked her as she loaded up the last of their goods. She turned and looked over the empty patch where their temporary home had been. When they stopped again, they could build a real home. She looked at him, eager for the opportunity. Sometimes she struggled to believe that they’d only known each other for a few cycles. Sometimes, she felt as though they’d known each other since the days of their birth.
“I am.”
“Be safe,” he said.
“You too.” Asa wanted to say more, but the words couldn’t quite form on her lips. She approached the cart, pulled Koji down to her, and gave him a kiss.
She could feel his initial surprise, then his pleasure as he relaxed. Asa had never been much for public affection, but it was the best she could express herself at the moment.
She broke the kiss off, giving him a playful shove. She didn’t say anything else as she strode forward into the formation of nightblades gathering at the head of the column.
Asa was among the last of the blades to form up. She took direction from another blade, finding a place near the middle of the formation. The blades with battle experience formed the front ranks, paired up with partners they had trained with and trusted. Asa, not being a part of Koji’s new tactics, was relegated to the main body.
There had been some discussion about attempting to train all the nightblades in the tactics Koji had used in his battles. Some training sessions had been held, and many new partners had learned to work together, but there simply hadn’t been enough time to train everyone.
As they began their march, Asa felt a vaguely familiar presence sidle up next to her. She looked down and saw Junko, the young nightblade she’d rescued from Starfall, walking next to her. She hadn’t seen Junko in well over a moon, locked up in palace intrigue as she had been. Junko met her gaze, and Asa realized the girl had grown up since they’d last met. The girl who’d been terrified of soldiers was gone, replaced by a young warrior, a blood feud burning in her eyes.
Asa considered telling the girl to go back, to join the carts where she should be safer. But she reconsidered. There were many warriors among their ranks who were too young. But if they could handle a sword and were willing, they’d been allowed to join the ranks of the fighting nightblades. Junko wasn’t even the smallest that she could see in the immediate area.
When Asa looked at the girl, she saw more of herself than she was comfortable with. Like Junko, she’d lost her family too early, and from the way the girl moved and the determination in her eyes, Junko had thrown herself into training t
he same way Asa had.
“It’s good to see you,” Asa said.
The girl, who looked as though she’d been nervous, suddenly brightened. “Thank you. I’ve been training hard.”
“I can tell.” Asa debated her next words, finally deciding they were right. “Shall we fight together?”
Junko nodded, and although she didn’t speak, Asa could see the way she set her jaw. Ever since Starfall, the girl had looked up to Asa. Now she’d finally earned the chance to fight next to her. If Junko wasn’t foolish, Asa didn’t mind having another blade nearby keeping an eye on her, either. Between the two of them, their swords would make quick work of unsuspecting enemies.
“Just listen to whatever I tell you to do,” Asa said. It wouldn’t be as good as having trained together, but if Junko trusted Asa’s sense in the midst of battle, they could work well together.
Junko agreed, and the two of them walked toward their final fight.
“I never did thank you for rescuing me,” Junko said.
“You don’t have to,” Asa replied.
“I do,” Junko disagreed. “I trained in combat my entire life, but none of it meant anything until you came. Now, I know what it means to fight for a purpose.”
Asa looked at the girl, surprised. Junko kept her face forward, not meeting Asa’s eyes.
After a few moments, Asa followed suit.
They all walked as quietly as they were able, but over a thousand blades couldn’t move without making a sound. From the creak of the carts to a man coughing viciously a few paces away, their advance would hardly be a surprise to anyone. Junko noticed the problem first.