by E. M. Hardy
Martin nodded quietly as he followed the general into a modest cabin inside the garrison. Soldiers straightened up in salute as the general nodded back at them, their weapons and armor gleaming in the sunshine.
“It’s that bad, huh?” Martin asked, as soon as he closed the door of the cabin.
Shen Feng shook his head and growled in disgust. “Yes, bad news all around. The Taiyo and their so-called Shogun are pressing Bai Yu hard to the east. He’s preparing to disembark from the Isles, regrouping on the mainland to try and hold the Shogunates off from the coast. And then there’s Guo Zhenya. He should be sending couriers out by now, handing in reports about the troops he managed to levy from the khans up north.” The general clicked his tongue loudly, angrily, as he unfurled a map on his desk.
“In any case, you should send your forces here,” Shen Feng pointed out as he jabbed a finger on the map. “The borders of the Sahaasi states are still about a hundred miles away from your current location. The actual fortresses you need to attack are two, three hundred miles inland. You’ll need to take them down before you start sieging the cities, otherwise they’ll just keep hitting your forces from behind and taking down your obelisks.” The general clicked his tongue more and shook his head. “How soon can your walkers get in range?”
Martin checked on the progress of his forces nearly a thousand miles away, swarming over cow-boxes and hauling up the clay to build the towers that allowed him to expand his reach. “A month to reach the borders, another two months to reach deeper inland.”
The general huffed in disappointment before shaking it off. “Not good enough. I don’t think Bai Yu will hold out for more than four weeks, three at the very least. I hoped to call upon your forces to help push back the Taiyo rebels, especially when we’re up against massed samurai and their infernal bows. These walkers of yours can take a beating that my people can’t, and it would make a world of difference with you leading the way.”
A warm, fuzzy feeling wormed its way into Martin’s core consciousness. Perhaps he would have to fight against Shen Feng if he received more ‘false orders’ from the Empress. Right now though, the man’s words meant a lot to his beleaguered soul.
Martin shook the head of his walker. “My constructs are already working as fast as I can. I hate to disappoint, but I’ll probably need even more time as I build deeper inside the Sahaasi borders. This isn’t like the sands of the Bashri Desert, where the heat and the sun work in my favor. I’ll be building obelisks right on top of inhabited lands with plenty of cover, then I’ll need to defend them against a well-provisioned army with solid supply lines. They’ll be able to aggressively target my obelisks once they know to hit them, and my eyeballs can’t be everywhere at once. This is why I need to build redundancies to ensure that I won’t lose control of my walkers.”
General Shen Feng grimaced as he absorbed all that Martin told him. “Then there is nothing more but to do what you can,” he said with finality.
“Why do I even need to attack the Sahaasi right now?” Martin asked, craning the neck of his walker as he studied the General’s worried expression. “I could just help you hold the line here, in Ren, while rebuffing any attack from the Sahaasi. Or at the very least stall them at a strategic chokepoint. They’d be at a disadvantage, fighting in a hostile land while their supply lines are stretched thin. I can hold with a few walkers, send the rest to augment your forces. We’d then have more troops to help Bai Yu drive the Taiyo back. Once the General of the Black Tiger arrives with reinforcements from the north, you will have the numbers to quell the Taiyo rebellion. Once that’s done, we can all march south to deal with the Sahaasi rebellion. Why overextend ourselves when we can compress, guard our borders, gather strength, and strike when we’re at our strongest?”
Shen Feng shook his head as he glared daggers at the map. “I would love to slowly strangle these Sahaasi rebels, bottle them up and then grind them down with force of numbers, but we cannot afford to give the Sahaasi a chance to attack the Imperial heartland right now. General Bai Yu is under immense pressure from the east. It took the full might of the Ren Empire to subdue the previous Shogun—all four generals with the aid of the Khans to the north and Sahaasi to the south.” He drew his finger off to the right side of the map, tracing the eastern coastline of the Empire and circling the islands a few dozen miles from the shore. “We needed multiple armies to beat back the savages raiding our lands with their blood-bound weapons, and we needed even more armies to invade their islands and put that bloodthirsty fool into the ground. We couldn’t even occupy those islands, so we just struck deals with the various local warlords to keep them in line.
“And now we’ve lost one of our armies while the Sahaasi have turned against us. Bai Yu may be brave, his soldiers some of the best the Empire has to offer, but there is no way he can hold out for long against the Taiyo—not alone. He needs my help to beat them back, but we cannot afford even the slightest chance that the Sahaasi could circle around, hit the capital when we’re committed against the Taiyo.”
It was Martin’s turn to feel angry and frustrated. “I can send fifteen thousand more walkers to help defend the Empire’s borders, Shen Feng. Even if the Sahaasi or the Taiyo outnumber me, hand me a devastating loss, I can easily replace my losses in a matter of months. I can even rebuild a sizeable enough force with a few weeks to nibble any attacking army to death. I cannot see any good reason why I need to commit so many walkers on an offensive when I can stay close to the capital, defend key points with a few walkers while sending the rest to aid you in the eastern front!”
Martin’s voice rose in intensity, adopting an almost accusatory tone. He would have continued his rant, but Shen Feng simply sagged and let his head hang low, pretending to scrutinize some random point on the map. He sharpened his expression after a moment, piercing Martin’s walker with a steady gaze. “You really won’t let this go, will you?” he asked. Martin nodded, firm in the belief that a defensive posture would be better than splitting their forces apart like this. “Fine, then let me be blunt: the Empress doesn’t trust you not to attack the Empire while it is at its weakest. I do not trust you.”
Martin slumped with his walker, saying nothing. He thought that maybe, just maybe, the Empress was finally considering Martin as a real ally. No, he was still a threat in her eyes. What really hurt, however, was to hear Shen Feng admit out loud that he viewed Martin as a threat—just like the Empress. He shifted his vision to the eyeballs floating around the lands near the Leizhu Swamp Pyramid. Filled garrisons, with thousands of extra troops holding their positions around the pyramid. Shen Feng’s words made him realize that they weren’t being held back in reserve—they were guarding against a potential attack.
“You are too powerful for you own good,” Shen Feng finally whispered, after an uncomfortably long period of silence. “As much as my gut tells me you are a good man, an ally I should trust, I cannot allow you to threaten the seat of our Empire.”
“Dammit,” Martin cursed aloud. “Haven’t I proven my loyalty yet? Or at the very least, my desire to work with the Empire? I publicly fought with the Empress to spare your life, Shen. I knew you’d be an asset to the Empire so I stood up for you, and you’re telling me to my face that I’m going to betray you!?”
The general didn’t even wince at Martin’s outburst; he stoically maintained his silence. Martin just sighed and shook his head. “You can prove your loyalty to the Empress and to the Empire by marching south to the Sahaasi, where your forces cannot threaten the capital while I march out to assist Bai Yu.”
“Alright. Fine. Let’s make the best of what I’m allowed to work with. I’ll leave my moaning and whining for later. Correction: I’ll leave my moaning and whining for the Empress. Maybe I can annoy her enough that I can convince her to use me as effectively as she can.”
Shen Feng coughed into a fist to cover up a sigh of relief. It was at that precise moment where one of Martin’s hovering eyeballs picked ou
t movement in the thick vegetation leading to the Sahaasi. Martin zoomed in and saw a group of lightly-armed soldiers wading through the foliage. Some bore bows on their back with quivers on their hips, while others carried tridents on their backs. Turbans mottled green and brown covered their heads, providing both protection and camouflage as they crept up. Exposed skin revealed tattoos of some sort, pulsing with a powerful energy similar to but not exactly like chi.
Martin shifted the telescopic lens of the floating eyeball, focusing behind the apparent scouts. He found a much larger group wearing chain mail and open-faced helmets with turbans wound tight around the top. First dozens, then hundreds, finally thousands of marching soldiers bearing long tridents, heavy maces, and curved sabers. Heavy cavalry trotted alongside the army, both riders and mounts draped in metallic plates held together by a thick mesh of chains. These weren’t regular horsemen though. No, these cavalrymen rode on elephants—massive creatures with spike-tipped tusks and massive plates of armor protecting the vulnerable flanks and joints. Many of the mounts carried wooden platforms capable of holding three, maybe four additional men on top. Archers or spearmen, depending on the position of the elephant in the formation. The shock value of those elephants meant they were more than capable of crashing into formations, breaking them up for the infantry to flood through the breach. That wasn’t good, considering Martin focused heavily on tight infantry formations with his walkers.
And every single one of those Sahaasi soldiers—thirty thousand in all, after Martin sent extra eyeballs to scout them out—sported the strange tattoos pulsing with an energy that Martin couldn’t quite get a fix on.
“Looks like I’m going to fight a defensive battle after all,” blurted out Martin as he straightened up the walker located within Shen Feng’s cabin.
“What do you mean?” Shen Feng said, furrowing his brow in surprise.
“The Sahaasi army outnumbers my walkers two-to-one. They brought in war elephants that’ll squish my walkers if they catch them out in the open… and it looks like they’re not alone,” Martin added, belatedly, as his eyeballs picked up on the oddly-armored group of fair-skinned soldiers following the Sahaasi regulars.
Chapter 05
Ishida Nagatoshi wiped the sweat from his brow, spitting out the salt that kept finding its way into his mouth. He didn’t complain about the heat or the humidity, not in front of his men. He donned his helmet once more and soldiered on, determined to keep pace with his Sahaasi allies.
“What’s wrong, Nagatoshi?” boomed a heavily-bearded man, as his war-elephant lumbered up beside the Daimyo in exile, muscles rippling and tattoos glowing. “Is the great Taiyo warrior inconvenienced by the heat? Is your code of honor, your bushido, not enough to carry you through this mild weather? Here, climb up on my mount. The air is fresh and cool up here!”
“Hold your tongue, Iwasaki,” warned Ishida, as he laid a hand on his most royal retainer, who was already growling with anger at the mocking tone of the Maharaja. “There will come a time. Now is not that time.” The warrior mumbled his displeasure and released his hand from the sheath of his blooded katana, diffusing the deadly glow of its blood-red veins in the process.
Ishida turned away from his retainer and looked up at the golden-armored form of the Maharaja Venkati sitting atop his elephant. The man smirked from his perch, twirling the ends of his moustache in amusement. “My thanks, Great Ruler, but I must learn how to survive in this oppressive heat if I’m going to be of any use in a real fight. Better that I get used to it now than later, when I have to face off against these faceless men of clay the Shogun has warned me about.”
A trace of respect flitted through the Maharaja’s face, his mocking eyes softening and his smirk slightly less insulting. “A good attitude, young lordling from Taiyo. One that I can admire. And now you have shamed me. How can I enjoy my luxuries when my… how do the Imperials say it? Oh, when my honored guest strains himself so?” The man wobbled his head in that strange manner that all Sahaasi seemed to possess—something that Ishida had yet to fully comprehend.
The Maharaja shouted out to his mahout, who in turn hollered out his commands for the lumbering beast to stop. A servant threw a rope up to the mahout, who in turn fixed it to form a ladder that made it easier for the Maharaja to clamber down the tough, grey hide.
“There,” Maharaja Venkati exclaimed, when he finished dismounting. “Misery and company and all that, yes?” He chuckled to himself, the tattoos on his arms and bare chest burning with power.
“Indeed,” Ishida said, as he eyed the tattoos, envious of the pulsing power within. It could not compare to his blood-blade though, and the life force he poured into his equipment throughout the years. Or at least that’s what he tried to convince himself of. “The company is welcome.”
A whole day of forced marching later, and it took all of Ishida’s considerable patience to not whip out his blade and carve the Maharaja into bloody pieces for looking so fresh and sprightly.
“Maybe we should call a rest, hmm? You and your men look dead on their feet. It’s almost sad, the way your people lack in vitality.”
“Yes,” gasped Ishida, no longer caring about appearances. He was just about as ragged as his men while the rest of the Sahaasi contingent looked on in amusement. “After all… we don’t… have chi-infusing tattoos… granting us unlimited… strength and stamina.”
“Nonsense!” guffawed the Maharaja Venkati, even as he signaled his men to halt the march and refresh themselves. “The secrets of prana can easily be learned by all! It just takes a little patience, a little insight, and a little training to unlock its secrets.” Ishida highly doubted that he could learn the techniques as easily as the Maharaja claimed, especially when the less-apt soldiers around him grunted in envy.
“And the tattoos?” Ishida said, after sitting heavily on a tree, catching his breath and trying to regain what little dignity he could. Good thing that his samurai and their retainers were just as tired as he was, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to bear the shame of looking so weak compared to these people.
“Oh, they help somewhat,” the Maharaja finally admitted, as he smirked that damning smirk of his. Ishida couldn’t quite hide his grimace in the face of the man’s ribbing. Ishida then stared up at the heavens, pleading with the gods and his ancestors for more much-needed patience.
“Wait,” Ishida said, as he narrowed his eyes and focused on something off in the distance. “Do you see that?”
“See what?” the Maharaja said, following Ishida’s gaze. “The cloud that looks like an abnormally curved peni—”
“No!” Ishida barked, unable to control his temper any further. “There’s something floating in the sky… something round.” Ishida narrowed his eyes, finally realizing that he was looking at a spherical construct moving in the air. “An eyeball,” he murmured, remembering the reports of Inagaki Shogun’s agents—from the Order of Rats. “Iwasaki! My bow!”
The retainer nodded curtly, lowering his pack and unshouldering his liege’s weapon. He rummaged around his pack and brought out an oiled satchel, pulling out the bowstring and quickly tying it up on the nocks of the blood-veined limb. He laid the strung bow on both of his hands and reached out to Ishida, the bow resting on his palms. Ishida nodded in thanks before focusing on his bow, willing the embedded blood to respond to his living blood, calling upon the terrible power stored within.
The weapon pulsed with life and will, ready to serve its master in whatever capacity he needed. Ishida thanked his weapon before turning to his retainer, who handed him an arrow pulled from another oiled satchel within his pack. Ishida reached out to the arrow, to the blood within. The head, the shaft, the fletching—all rejoiced when they came into contact with Ishida’s will.
Many of the Sahaasi around him stared, seeing the famed blood-bound weapons of the Taiyo in action for the first time. Life pulsed from the living weapon, and it pulsed even brighter as Ishida poured his focus into it. Even t
he Maharaja couldn’t resist goggling in awe, which would have greatly mollified Ishida if he were paying attention to his expression.
Ishida sharpened his will, pouring every ounce of life and energy he could into his bow and arrow. The world narrowed with his focus, and he loosed the deadly projectile as the bow expended its stored energy within the arrow. The arrow pulsed with life when it hurtled toward its intended target, propelled by the power of Ishida’s blood. The head cut through the air, the shaft dimmed as it blasted energy to drive the arrow, and the fletching guided the spin of the arrow—impacting the floating eyeball with enough force to shatter the construct.
Ishida silently prayed to his ancestors for gifting him with strong blood before turning to the rest of his warriors. He didn’t even need to roar out a command, for his five hundred elite bushi already clutched their blood-bows and began whispering to the vitality stored within them. The training of the other ashigaru—the footmen—kicked in, clearing and shielding the necessary space for the samurai warriors as they took up the Fortified Archer formation. The other samurai managed to shoot down six of the orbs before they flew out of range, a surprising height considering the extended reach of blood-bound bows and arrows.
“Huh,” the Maharaja grunted, inspecting Ishida and his troops. “That is some impressive shooting there, lordling. I see the tales of your blood-bound weapons are not exaggerated. But what, exactly, were those things you and your warriors shot from the sky?”
“I would not have noticed those flying spies if I didn’t know to look for them,” Ishida said, as he ruefully shook his head. “The Shogun’s agents, the Rats, gave us reports of the new constructs we will face as we march against the Empire. The most dangerous ones are the eyeballs and walkers. Eyeballs are those spheres that float up in the sky, serving as scouts and sentries. There is no way to disguise the movements of an army as large as this one, even under dense foliage like this, but I and my bushi can keep them far enough away to prevent them from tracking the movements of smaller units,” Ishida added, as he nodded toward the trees around them.