L5r - scroll 04 - The Phoenix

by Stephen D. Sullivan

  The magical fire quickly spread among the men and everyone they touched. Soon, a great wall of flame had sprung up among the invading troops.

  The priests and their guards stood in awe. Uona frowned.

  Tsuke laughed, and chanted a spell while rubbing his shoulder. Fire flared from the wound, and when it died away, the injury had healed.

  The Shadowlands forces turned against their burning comrades. They showered them with rocks and arrows, cutting them down before the fire could spread farther. Constant pressure from Uona's human chain pressed the invaders back to the temple gates. Less than a quarter of Junzo's forces remained.

  Tsuke raised his arm above his head and brought his hand down in a slashing motion, pointing at one of the surviving samurai. A bolt of fire streaked from the sky and incinerated the man he pointed at.

  He summoned the same power again and again. Soon, all the minions of the Evil One were engulfed in flame. Their dying fellows ran among them like human torches, setting fire to zombie and human alike. A merciless smile drew over Tsuke's face as he continued his pyrotechnic assault. His eyes burned with grim pleasure.

  Soon, the sound of screams and crackle of fire echoed off the temple walls. Uona and the priests kept their people back, away from the living inferno. The Mistress of Air covered her mouth and nose with the sleeve of her kimono. Even through the wind, the stench of burning bodies threatened to overwhelm her.

  Then another sound came—a lone, strong voice rising above the din.

  "Coward!" the voice cried. "Honorless bastard!"

  Tsuke's blazing eyes sought the origin of the voice. A single ronin staggered forward, out of the firestorm. He wore black armor and carried the daisho swords of a samurai; the mon of the disbanded Scorpion rested at his shoulder. At his throat hung a dark stone medallion in the shape of a star. His face blackened by smoke, he screamed his anger at the Master of Fire. "Fight like a samurai, you bastard witch!"

  Tsuke raised his hand above his head as if to summon another fireball. "Pawn of Junzo," he said contemptuously, "you do not deserve a warrior's death."

  "I serve my master," the samurai said, "who strikes back against those who destroyed my clan. Who do you serve, Master of Fire? A sick emperor, too afraid to leave his chambers? Pacifist clerics, holed up in their temples? Our lord is coming, and you have not the strength to face him man to man."

  Tsuke lowered his hand. Behind him, he heard Uona whisper, "Tsuke, no!" but he ignored her.

  "I will destroy you personally," Tsuke said. As he stepped forward, his hand dropped to the hilt of his sword. His thumb pushed up the tsuba, the hand guard, in preparation for action.

  The samurai leader of the raiders walked toward him. A triumphant smile split his smoke-blackened face. "With you gone," he said to Tsuke, "we'll make short work of the rest."

  "Like your master," Tsuke said, "your confidence overmatches your skill."

  "We shall see," the samurai said. He stopped less than a body length from the Master of Fire. Both of them stood stock-still— preparing for an iaijutsu duel, a test of quick draw skill.

  A hush fell over the temple courtyard. Only the whisper of the wind, the roar of the fire, and the whimpers of the dying broke the silence.

  The black-clad samurai moved, pulling his sword from its scabbard and aiming a cut at Tsuke's middle.

  The Master of Fire moved more quickly. His blade flashed from its scabbard and sliced a long gash below the black samurai's breastplate. The former Scorpion's belly opened up, and his guts spilled out. His sword never landed its blow.

  He staggered back, his intestines splashing on the flagstones. He slumped to his knees and moved no more.

  Tsuke flicked the gore from his blade in the traditional shiburi move.

  The stone at the dead samurai's neck began to glow. First, pale sparks, like tiny bolts of lightning, flickered across its surface. The star seemed to open up, revealing a squalid green light within. The light danced across the samurai's face and down his dead limbs. Smiling, the creature stood and raised its sword.

  "See the power of my master!" it hissed.

  The creature opened its mouth wide. Bones cracked as its jaw dislocated. Inside the mouth was blackness—hissing, roiling blackness. Suddenly, a swirling ebony cloud vomited from the monster's mouth. Uona screamed a warning, too late.

  Flies—millions of biting, stinging insects—swarmed the Master of Fire, covering his body in an instant. More flies aimed for the Mistress of Air, but Uona's winds held them at bay.

  Isawa Tsuke screamed and writhed in pain. He dropped his katana. It clattered on the flagstones, and the flies covering it leapt up to join their brethren, smothering the Master of Fire.

  The black samurai strode toward him. Tsuke, doubled over in pain, tried to look up. The undead creature raised its blade high, aiming a deathblow at Tsuke's head.

  Pressed by the swarm on all sides, Uona could do nothing to help her comrade.

  The black samurai brought his sword down in a sweeping arc. At the last instant, it stopped.

  Tsuke had caught the blade between his palms. The edge of the sword rested only inches from his forehead. The black samurai pushed down, trying to break his opponent's grip. Tsuke began to chant.

  The blade of the black samurai started to vibrate. It became warm. Tsuke straightened his body, raising the katana.

  The black samurai redoubled his effort, but the blade held fast. The metal was hot now, but the undead samurai didn't feel it. The flies covering Tsuke's body popped and sizzled, bursting into puffs of black smoke.

  Tsuke stood. The blade burned red hot. The Master of Fire's body burst into flames, though the fire did not harm him. Instead, it renewed his strength. His eyes shone with anger. The fire swelled from his body, engulfing the black samurai.

  The undead ronin screamed once before his tongue dried up.

  His eyes sizzled and burst. His skin charred and sloughed off his body in long strips. His bones turned to charcoal. His sword melted into slag. The black samurai's body crumbled into a pile of smoldering embers at the Master of Fire's feet. The unnatural flies shriveled up and died with their creator.

  Tsuke stretched out his hands. Fountains of fire streaked forth. The flame blasted what remained of the undead forces, charring them utterly. The outlines of their shadows stained the plaster of the temple's walls.

  In a few moments, it was over.

  Tsuke let the fires die down. All that remained of his enemies was ash. He knelt and retrieved the black stone amulet from the ashes of his foe. He stood, and tucked the enchanted stone into his obi.

  "Are you all right?" asked a quiet voice behind him.

  Tsuke looked at his arms, covered by welts and insect bites. He felt similar wounds over the whole of his body, even under his orange and gold kimono. Turning, he gazed into Isawa Uona's pretty face. He saw worry there. He knew he must look like he'd just returned from Jigoku. He smiled.

  "I'm fine," he said. "Time to claim my prize."

  Uona nodded. "I'll go with you. The priests will summon the eta to clean up the mess."

  Together, the two of them walked toward the temple's inner precinct. The monks who stood to each side of the great gateway bowed and opened the doors before them.

  The corridor stretched away from them into the side of the mountain. Immense golden columns lined its sides and supported a ceiling lost in darkness above. No torches lit the hall, but a dim glow came from the far end of the corridor. Tsuke and Uona walked toward that glow.

  Gradually, the corridor narrowed, and the ceiling slanted down to meet them. Eventually they came to a portal, barely wide enough for two to walk abreast. On the other side of the portal was a room. Within the room, the heart of the mountain lay exposed.

  The temple had long been famed for its hot springs. Pilgrims traveled from all over Rokugan to visit them—at least, they had before plague struck the land. It was the heart of the mountain I hat gave the waters their heat. The mountain was a sl
umbering volcano, and its heart was molten lava.

  A pool of lava lay in the small room where Tsuke and Uona arrived. Molten rock caused the air to shimmer with heat. Orange light from the fiery rock lit the room. Uona chanted a spell for protection against the heat.

  Tsuke stepped to the lava-filled pond. It was as broad as a man is tall and half that deep. The back of the pool vanished into the living rock of the mountain. This inlet was merely the fingertip of the fire kami that slept below.

  Tsuke rolled up the sleeve of his kimono and plunged his arm into the molten rock. His face grew tight, as if even he, the Master of Fire, felt the heat. When he removed his arm, Tsuke held a crystal scroll case in his hand.

  Uona nodded her approval. "You were right," she said. "We were lucky to get here before Junzo's minions."

  "My task is finished," Tsuke said.

  "Will you join me on my quest?" she asked. "The mountain I seek is only a week's travel from here. Less if we fly."

  Tsuke shook his head. "I have to return to my studies. There are things I need to research before the council meets again."

  Uona nodded. "I understand," she said. "Shall we share tea before we go?"

  "Not tea," Tsuke said, "though I wouldn't object if you joined me in a cup of sake."

  THE WAY OF THE RAT

  Isawa Tadaka fitted a jade-tipped arrow to his bow. Chaos reigned in the ratling village below, but Tadaka's eyes were keen, and he quickly chose a target. He selected an undead samurai on horseback. As the horseman bore down on a ratling woman and her frightened child, Tadaka let fly.

  His arrow pierced the horseman through the neck. Where the arrow touched, green fire sprang up. Screaming, the zombie toppled backward off his steed and fell to the ground. The rat-woman fended off the steed with a wooden pitchfork.

  Tadaka picked six more targets in quick succession. Where his arrows fell, an undead creature returned to its maker. He chose his prey carefully, always picking monsters that threatened the ratlings' lines of defense.

  By the time the seventh zombie had fallen, both the ratlings and the Shadowlands forces had noticed Tadaka. The ratlings gave a cheer.

  A skull-faced man on horseback pointed toward Tadaka and shrieked an order to his underlings.

  Two cloaked monstrosities turned toward the Master of Earth, their eyes blazing red. They were gnarled, hump-backed creatures with green pustulant skin and corpselike faces. They threw back their cloaks and spread huge batlike wings. Leaping into the air, they flapped toward Tadaka.

  Tadaka put a jade-tipped arrow through the brain of the first one. It fell in flames to the earth. He knew that he didn't have time for another shot before the second arrived, so he dropped his bow and drew his katana.

  The creature swooped high over the boulders that topped the ridge and dived straight for its target. In its hand it held a black-bladed katana with a serrated edge. Whether the sword was made of metal or completely tainted rock, Tadaka couldn't tell. The Master of Earth chanted power into the stones on his blade.

  The bat-thing attacked. Tadaka caught the creature's sword with his own. Sparks flew where the blades met. The creature circled, and Tadaka turned with it. The stones hanging from his round hat swayed and clattered. The creature slashed with its taloned feet.

  Tadaka heard his kimono rip; the flesh along his ribs burned. He stepped away, swinging his sword in a defensive maneuver. The bat-thing bore in. The antagonists' blades met again, but this time, Tadaka spoke a word of power.

  The creature's katana shattered, and the hilt splintered in the monster's hand. Tadaka cut swiftly, splitting the bat-thing's head in two. It spouted black blood and fell to the earth. The body twitched for several moments before it died.

  The attack had given the Shadowlands creatures time to marshal their forces. Perceiving the Master of Earth as a great threat, two dozen zombies scrambled up the hillside.

  Tadaka glanced to his left, and then his right. He smiled. He reached out and touched the tall boulders on either side with his fingertips. The rocks were pure, untainted. Their power flowed into him. As the zombie hordes drew near, Tadaka began to hum.

  Stones resonated with his song. They trembled and then shook. The zombies staggered as the earth rumbled. Surprise and fear clouded their undead eyes. The Master of Earth whispered softly to his rocky minions.

  The earth opened up beneath the zombies' feet. Some fell helplessly into the abyss below. Others caught onto the edges of the gaping hole. These were crushed as huge stones fell on them. Tadaka's earthquake spread out like a great wave from where he stood.

  A half dozen zombies near the village entrance heard a noise and looked up, too late. Boulders from the rocky escarpment toppled on them, crushing their corrupt bodies.

  A crack in the earth opened and swallowed three undead horsemen. The ratlings they were fighting scrabbled away from the pit and cheered in high-pitched squeaks.

  The skull-faced commander fought to control his undead steed. The skeletal horse reared as the earth shook and stones flew around it.

  Beneath zombies' feet, clay turned to quicksand. They sank up to their knees while ratling troops hacked mercilessly at them. Any Shadowlands creatures standing near open rock were crushed or swallowed. Through it all, Tadaka made sure not to harm the ratlings.

  The ratlings scrambled across the ruins, putting an end to zombies that were trapped or disabled. Their squeals of joy echoed through the bowl-like valley—strange music for Tadaka's ears.

  Finally, the fell commander brought his horse to rein. He fixed his blazing green eyes on the Master of Earth and chanted. Evil fire built up within his rotting body.

  Tadaka reveled in the quake. He crushed his enemies with stone fingers and swallowed them whole. So rapt was he in his magics, he almost didn't see the skull-faced commander until it was too late.

  The commander crossed his arms over his breast and then thrust his hands outward. A scarlet ball of fire poured from his shriveled form and streaked toward the Master of Earth.

  Tadaka saw it and stopped his chanting only just in time. Reaching into his sleeve, he flicked open his jade fan. The flames hit the artifact, charring its edges. Most of the blast dissipated, though the wound in Tadaka's side burned with renewed fire. The earthquake subsided.

  Tadaka put the fan away and picked up his bow. Before the commander could summon his power again, Tadaka shot two arrows. They tore through the commander's breastplate and burst into green flame.

  The skull-faced man merely laughed. "You can't kill Atamashi ssso easssily."

  Tadaka changed his aim, from the man to the undead horse. Before he could fire, several ratlings swarmed the fell commander. Bolstered by Tadaka's attacks, they swung their weapons and pressed in, unaware that they were spoiling the Master of Earth's aim. Two leapt onto the horse's back, clawing and biting with their sharp teeth.

  Atamashi attacked the nezumi. The hooves of his skeletal steed dashed out the brains of one. The undead samurai's black katana felled another.

  Slinging his bow on his back, Tadaka leapt downhill to join the melee. He reached the battle just as Atamashi disemboweled a third ratling. The way between Tadaka and his foe lay clear. Tadaka took his round hat from his head with his right hand and plucked one stone from its brim with his left. He flung the hat, chanting as he threw.

  The hat whirled toward the commander, its stones swinging to the outside. The rocks sharpened into small blades as the hat flew. The skull-faced man saw the danger and tried to wheel his horse away, too late.

  The hat smashed into the horse like a great shuriken. The creature's bones shattered, and it fell, lifeless, to the ground. Atamashi spilled to the earth but quickly rose to his feet. All around, the surviving ratlings were rallying against the remainder of the undead troops. Smoke, screams, and the sounds of battle filled the air.

  Tadaka's hat flew on for several feet past the shattered undead horse. Then Tadaka whispered to the stone he'd plucked from the brim. The hat arced in a w
ide circle, turning back toward the Master of Earth. It landed lightly in his left hand, and Tadaka placed it back on his head. He tucked the loose stone into his right sleeve and drew his katana. Atamashi stalked toward the Master of Earth, his sword at the ready.

  "Ssso far from hoooome, shugenja," the commander hissed.

  "Where is Junzo? Where is your leader?" Tadaka said. "Is he reduced to slaughtering ratlings now?"

  "Ssssoon all will fall befooore the great Junzo."

  "Not unless the rest of his troops fight better than you."

  "You'll sssee how well I fiiight," replied the creature. It leapt forward with inhuman speed, aiming a cut at Tadaka's neck.

  Tadaka parried and slashed at the commander's ribs. The creature's black armor turned the blow aside. Atamashi whirled and thrust. His blade pierced Tadaka's kimono below the left armpit, but failed to find flesh.

  Tadaka slashed at Atamashi's neck. His katana bit deep. The commander's head sailed a short distance, landed on the top of its helmet, and rolled to a stop. The body fell backward.

  The Master of Earth smiled and turned away. He saw several ratlings trying to extinguish a burning hut. Beyond them, a dozen nezumi were brawling with the remains of the undead contingent. The ratlings seemed to be winning.

  Several young ratlings skittered toward Tadaka, feral smiles on their furry muzzles. Their black eyes brimmed with admiration. Suddenly the happiness on their faces turned to terror. "Yeee! Look! Look!" one cried.

  Tadaka spun just in time to parry a vicious cut. His sword turned his enemy's katana aside, but not fully. His opponent's black blade traced a thin line down the Master of Earth's right shoulder. Tadaka found himself face-to-face with Atamashi's leering skull. The undead commander's head sat firmly upon his shoulders once more.