by Ryan Kirk
She hated the truth. She raged against it and tried to forget. Hadn’t he served her faithfully and done all her commands?
Or had he been a shadow? Katashi seemed to know everything.
Her mind raced in circles but kept returning to the same place. If she ever saw Koji again, she would kill him herself. She had never experienced a deeper cut of betrayal. He wouldn’t just die; he would suffer for what he had done.
The sun rose, and as time passed, the sharp edge of her emotions faded. The pain was still there, a gaping hole she wasn’t sure any revenge could fill.
Guards came in with breakfast and a basin. They were careful, as though she was a dangerous criminal who could somehow kill three trained and armed guards. She still had the long knife strapped to her thigh, but now wasn’t the time to use it. Mari remembered the threats Katashi had made and was careful not to agitate the guards. She had a new purpose to live for now. They removed the gag, and Mari almost said thank you but stopped herself. She bowed slowly instead.
The guards didn’t unbind her, instead feeding her themselves. Awkward and humiliated, Mari’s anger grew even stronger than before. When the guards left, they didn’t gag her again, but their looks were guarantee enough that she wouldn’t make a sound.
Then there was Katashi. The very thought of him made her want to scream in frustration. His cool confidence infuriated her. But everything he’d said was rational and well articulated. She despised the idea of slaughtering the blades, but his vision seemed clear. He had a plan, and all she had ever been able to do was muddle forward like a fool.
She hated him, but his ideas wormed their way inside her mind, planting themselves and growing roots. He made her choices clear, and wasn’t being alive better than being dead? So long as she was alive, she could make a change for her people.
Then the tears came again. She didn’t want to think this way. Katashi brilliantly manipulated her with the promise of power, but she had no reason to trust his word. He betrayed everyone he came across, from her brother to General Kyo. Mari had no doubt that if she accepted the lord’s offer, Kyo would be dead within a moon.
She thought back to the sham peace negotiations. If Katashi had simply killed her brother as soon as he had a chance, she might have felt differently. But he had dragged the meeting out, not even trying to convince Hiromi of his vision of a Kingdom without blades. Those weren’t the actions of a rational man. Those were the actions of one who delighted in making others dance to his plans, just as Mari was now. They had been under a banner of peace.
The thought of Hiromi’s death steeled her resolve. She wouldn’t accept Katashi’s offer. She would free herself and bring justice to the Kingdom, to all who had suffered.
All she needed to do was escape. The concept seemed as impossible now as it had before.
Mari decided to wait until an opportunity presented itself. Katashi had said he wouldn’t return for a day or two, so she had time. Until then, she would act as her enemies expected, letting them think she was beaten.
She bowed to the three guards when they came in for the evening meal, and she didn’t complain when they left her without bedding for the second night. Her sleep was poor, but every time she woke, she listened and waited for an opportunity.
The second full day of her captivity came and went, and her opportunity came that evening. She heard the guards speaking to one another. There were always three outside her tent, but one had been given orders to report to their commander. Only two would be guarding her for the evening. She decided it was as good a chance as she was ever going to have.
Her movements were slow and controlled. She didn’t dare make any sound that would alert the soldiers outside, and she tried to work in such a way that if one of them peeked in, they wouldn’t become suspicious.
Her first challenge was to get to the knife strapped to her thigh. As slowly as she could, she worked her hands down to her steel, bending and contorting until she could reach. Despite the agony of the position, Mari didn’t let out so much as a sound. She worked the knife free, grateful that it slid out of its sheath without so much as a whisper.
Once she was sure she had the knife well in hand, she started working on cutting through the ropes that held her. She started with her wrists. As soon as they were free, she hoped everything else would come easily. The angles were all wrong, and she struggled to get enough leverage for the blade to cut through the rope.
Despite the fear of being discovered, she continued to work slowly. Doing so required every bit of discipline that she had. She kept glancing toward the tent opening, worried that a guard would choose just that moment to check on her.
She could feel the ropes around her wrists loosening, and with a soft snap, they pulled apart. Mari held her breath, terrified that the sound had been heard.
Once she was certain she was undetected, she moved very slowly. The chain attached to her collar tended to clink with motion, so she did everything she could to keep a steady amount of pressure on it.
With her wrists free, Mari could slice the rope around her ankles in a moment. Now her only problem was the collar around her neck. She wasn’t sure how the collar was closed, and her only hope had been that it had been shut with some method she could undo now that her hands were free.
Working with the collar was the most delicate part of her escape thus far. Iron was noisier than rope, and keeping the collar and chain silent was enough to keep her occupied. Instead of trying to twist the collar around her neck, she held the collar steady while she turned, keeping the chain links from clinking.
She couldn’t see what was below her neck, so she explored the clasp with her fingers. She silently cursed. There was no way of getting the collar off without a blacksmith’s tools. Despair overwhelmed her, and for a few moments, she considered ending her own life.
But Mari refused to embrace such thoughts. She studied the chain, looking for weak links. The chance of finding one was slim, but it was better than nothing.
As she followed the chain, her eyes alighted on the other end of the link, where she had been attached to the central pole of the tent. Whoever had done that work hadn’t been very thorough. The chain had just been wrapped around the pole three times and then a pin had been driven through three links to hold it in place. Restrained, there was no way she could have reached high enough to do anything, but now it would be a simple matter to remove the pin.
Mari did so, exercising care so as not to make any noise. She gently unwrapped the chain from the pole as though she was undressing a battle wound. Now she was free. But she assumed she was in the middle of the enemy camp, and carrying a significant length of chain with her would make her seem rather suspicious.
One step at a time. She had made progress. Before making her next move, Mari looked around the tent. As she expected, there weren’t any convenient weapons simply lying around for her. All she had was her knife. It would have to be enough.
Mari wrapped the chain around her torso, which at least prevented it from making any noise. Satisfied she was as ready as she was ever going to be, Mari peeked out of the tent.
The two guards were there, backs to her, looking out on the camp beyond. As Mari had guessed, she was near the center.
Suddenly, not far away, in the tents that surrounded the heart of the camp, a fire burst to life. Everyone’s attention was immediately grabbed, and Mari knew she’d never have a better chance than this.
She took just a few moments to calm her breath. Staying focused was going to be essential if she was going to survive.
Then she took her first life.
Her only thought as she emerged from the tent and slid her knife in between the ribs of the guard, straight to his heart, was that taking a life should never be so easy. Her hands moved almost of their own volition, pulling the knife out of the soldier and stabbing the second guard just as he turned.
Her second stab wasn’t as precise as her first, but it was good enough to get the job done. She h
eld on to the blade tightly, terrified of letting her only weapon slip from her grasp. As the second man turned, the knife sliced through organ after organ. The guard’s death wasn’t clean, but it would serve. Mari pulled the bloody knife from the sentry as he fell, standing frozen in shock as she looked upon her handiwork.
She looked up, trying to will her legs to move. Just then, two shadows in House Amari uniforms detached themselves from the tents across the way. Mari steeled herself. She hadn’t even made it more than a few paces out of the tent where she’d been held captive.
Then one of the shadows threw off her hood and came into the light, and Mari realized she was looking at Asa and Koji, two of the last people she expected to see. She gripped the knife tighter, desperately wanting Koji to get closer so she could stab him as well.
The nightblades stopped in unison, and Mari cursed herself. Of course, they would be able to sense her intent. As strong as it was, she might as well have lit a warning beacon. Confusion was drawn across their faces. Asa took a step forward, moving slowly.
“Mari, we’re here to rescue you.” Asa looked around, as if making sure no one was nearby. “We can leave in the confusion, but we need to leave now.”
Anger and reason conflicted in Mari’s heart. She wanted to kill Koji, but she needed to survive. Her work was yet unfinished.
Slowly, she lowered the knife, sheathing it bloody against her thigh. The two nightblades still looked concerned, but together they turned around and started making their way out of the camp.
Chapter 25
Koji suffered two surprises in only a few moments. The first was that Mari had started her own escape, killing two guards in the process. Somehow this didn’t sit well with Koji. In his eyes, Mari shouldn’t have to kill. The act defiled her.
The second surprise was that she wanted to kill him. When he had sensed her intent, he almost doubted his gift. Reason quickly asserted itself, though. There was only one reason why her attitude toward him would have changed so quickly. She knew.
The knowledge rocked him, almost physically. The discovery of his actions had always been a possibility, but with every day that passed, he started to think the secret might never come to light.
Asa got them moving, Koji still trying to come to terms with what had just happened. He followed Asa as she acquired a uniform for Mari and stumbled behind them as Asa used her skills to get the trio out and away from the camp. Once they were safe, Mari turned on both of them, her face contorted by a barely contained anger.
What she said, though, caught Koji by surprise. “We need to kill Kyo. How many are with you?”
Asa gave Koji the first chance to respond, but when he didn’t, she did. “Not enough, Mari. A few more than twenty is all.”
“How many nightblades?”
“Twenty-one.”
Koji knew it wasn’t enough, not to take on an army. Mari didn’t seem to care. “They will have to do. Are they still loyal? Will they follow on an impossible task?”
Koji answered, the first time he had spoken since they had met Mari in the camp. “To the end, my lady.”
Mari fixed him with a furious stare, her eyes piercing into him, stripping away the layers of his personality until she reached the core of his being. Perhaps he imagined it, but he thought her eyes softened for a moment.
“Very well. Let’s get to them and prepare. We’ll ride at first light.”
They made their way up to the camp where the blades were hidden away, watching the massacre below. Asa gathered all the gifted together, and Koji walked off and stood away, letting his thoughts run wild.
He sensed Asa behind him, supportive but not questioning. If he had something to say, he would say it. He didn’t turn to look at her. “She knows.”
There was nothing more for him to say. Asa had been there. Better than anyone else, she understood. “What will you do?”
That was the question. Mari had become more than just his commander over the past winter. She was hope. If she desired his death, he didn’t see any more reason to live.
“Fight for her. Die for her, if I can.”
He sensed Asa’s posture shift. Though he couldn’t see her, he knew how saddened she was by the answer.
“Then there’s really nothing more, is there?”
Koji stared off into the distance. Asa, as usual, was right. His path was clear. Only one worry nagged at him.
“Do you think she’ll understand?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. She’ll know your actions, though. You can’t do more than that.”
Koji took a deep, shuddering breath. There was nothing else. Reassured in his purpose, he followed Asa to the gathering of blades. The two were the last to arrive, and Mari didn’t waste any time in outlining her plan.
Most of it didn’t surprise Koji, but a murmur of disapproval made the rounds when Mari told them all that she wanted to use wooden swords again.
Even her commander, who never questioned Mari, was surprised. “Mari, our mission is already dangerous enough. Not using real swords dooms any attempt we may make.”
“I understand your concern, and I know how this sounds,” she said. “But this is the heart of our work. This is why you followed me in the first place. I mean to make a new world. The victory will not be bloodless, but most of the troops down there are simply people trying to do their best. Some are professional soldiers; others are farmers and boys taken from their homes to fight for their lord. I only ask that you use wooden swords until we breach the perimeter of the honor guard. Then you may draw your steel and as much blood as you will. Those are the men who betrayed the trust of my family, and they will be repaid in kind.”
Koji, as always, was impressed. Looking around the circle, he saw that her words had convinced a group of blades to become almost as nonviolent as you could be while still wielding a weapon. Seeing her inspiring the group once again reinforced his decision. He would do everything in his power to see her cause succeed.
After the gathering broke, Mari deliberately avoided Koji. He understood and didn’t question. Asa had been right. He would allow his actions to speak for him.
When the sun rose the next morning, it rose on Mari, surrounded by her puny force, standing between the forces of House Kita and Starfall. They had crept into position before dawn. Mari understood the power of theater and planned to use it to full effect. On a long pole the banner of House Kita snapped in the early morning breeze, the sword and hammer, the symbols of her house, plain for everyone to see.
All except Mari were on foot, dressed in their traditional black and white robes. Koji felt calm and relaxed, excited to be wearing the clothes that marked him as a nightblade. In front of them was an army, thousands strong.
Mari’s plan didn’t have a bit of strategic reason. If Koji had planned the morning’s assault, he would have dressed them all in the uniforms of House Kita, snuck into the ranks in pairs, and sown confusion throughout the army.
That wasn’t Mari’s aim. She wanted the army as her own, and whether or not she believed she could acquire command, she acted as though the result was already fated.
Koji eyed the ranks upon ranks of soldiers in front of them. Mari was counting on confusion, surprise, and her status with her people, all of which felt very thin to Koji, but he was willing to follow, to see where the day led.
He wasn’t the only one. Despite the foolishness of the plan, everyone in Koji’s group remained, each standing tall against a force that outnumbered them hundreds to one. Next to him, Asa was the other point of the spear. In her belt, in addition to her two short swords, she carried two sticks about half as thick as her wrist. She had wanted dual weapons for the upcoming fight, but no one had two wooden swords short enough. She had made do with the sticks.
Asa and Koji glanced at each other, but there wasn’t much left to say. With a soft word from Mari, the entire group started walking toward the army. Their pace was slow and measured. Each of them left their weapons, even their wooden ones,
in their belts.
As the blades neared, the front ranks of the army raised their spears, blocking their way. It was a problem but not nearly as much as if the archers had fired on them. A few stray arrows came forth, but most landed a safe distance away. The blades sidestepped the handful that were close. After the first few volleys, the attacks ceased, and Mari’s group advanced unmolested.
Koji’s eyes darted back and forth as he wondered how long their good fortune would hold. He could see the signal flags flying all across the formation, and he had little doubt commanders were being told to attack. Yet no one did, and Mari and her warriors continued closing the gap.
Mari softly called them to a stop about ten paces away from the tips of the spears. Koji struggled to draw in breath. The tension was thick, but still no one attacked. The nightblade almost wished someone would, just to break the tableau and give him a specific focus.
Mari let the front line take a good look at her face. Koji saw the points of the spears waver as their owners recognized the lady of the house they served. The last survivor of the three siblings spoke softly, and the nightblades resumed their approach, hands well away from their real and wooden swords, posing as little threat as possible.
Koji had thought the tension couldn’t get any thicker, but now it was physical, like a solid wall he was trying to push through. The tips of the spears were ten paces away, five. He took another few steps, waiting at any moment for Mari to tell him to stop, but the order never came.
Unsure how to proceed, Koji decided to slide through the small gaps in the defense, shuffling forward awkwardly. He could see the fear and confusion written all over the faces of the spearmen. Sweat beaded down their foreheads, and their eyes darted back and forth as they waited for some order or command that would tell them what to do.
Koji and Asa passed the first rank, but they didn’t attack. Koji could sense some of the spearmen turning, waiting for steel to cut into them from behind, but the attack never came. More nightblades, and eventually Mari, worked their way through the lowering spears, and the moment of tension began to fade.