by Ree Soesbee
Even the emperor could not command withdrawal of troops he did not know existed. The Lion marched legion by
legion, preparing to meet at the palace of the Crane.
At the entrance to the village, a tall torii arch stood. Its red mahogany pillars rose over the hard-packed road. As the leaders approached it, another scout ran toward them. His white face contrasted with the brown and gold gi of the Lion Clan.
"My lords," he gasped, crouching to his knees before I [ametsu's shaggy pony.
"Speak," Gohei snarled before the senior officer could reply.
The scout glanced up at Hametsu, and the chui nodded. "There is a samurai at the gates of the village, Lord Hametsu-sama. He says . .." the scout winced, "He says the Lion may not pass through the village. If they do, he says ... he says they will die."
Snorting, Gohei reached for his sword to kill the scout. "Fear? I see fear in your eyes at the sight of one man?"
Hametsu raised his fist before Gohei could draw. "Silence, lieutenant!" he shouted. Gohei dropped his hand. Addressing the runner once more, Flametsu said, "Where are the others in your guard?"
"I beg your pardon, Hametsu-sama, but they are all dead."
"Dead?" Gohei bawled, his sharp-nosed face turning red.
"Hai, my lord!" The scout pressed his forehead to the earth. "The man has killed them all."
This time, the Lion commander did not stop Gohei's blow. The runner's head rolled in the dirt of the village road.
Staring forward, Gohei saw a shadowed figure standing in the village arch. Wind blew dust through the empty streets behind him. Within their houses, peasants hid, covering their children's eyes and praying for the Seven Fortunes to turn away the Lion army. Another man, also dressed in the gray and brown of a masterless ronin, appeared in the arch. In two of the houses closest to the road, an unknown number of Daidoji archers waited. They had already cut down the Matsu scouts who had approached too closely.
Hametsu shouted, "Ronin!"
The echo rumbled through the army, and the soldiers ceased their march. Gohei raced up and down the lines, commanding the men to hold their ground upon the road. They would be ready to charge when Hametsu gave the word.
"Ronin!" Hametsu shouted again. "Approach me, and I will spare your life when 1 destroy this village. The battle between Lion and Crane is none of your affair. If you seek to prove your sword, prove it within my command!" The offer was a good one. Most ronin would gladly trade their skulking days for the life of a soldier.
But this man shook his head. "No, Lion. I have more honor than that. How much do you have, that you would face me with an army at your back?" The young man raised his arms, his hair wrapped in a hood that hid his features.
Angered, Hametsu yelled, "I am Matsu Hametsu, son of—"
Cutting off the commander's family line, the second ronin shouted, "Son of the dog that spawned you, Hametsu of the Matsu house." Picking a twig from his teeth, the ronin smiled. "Fight, or turn your troops and put your tail between your legs."
Roaring in rage, Hametsu leaped from his horse and reached for his family's blade. "When I have killed you, ronin, I will kill your old grandfather and feed his bones to the crows!"
The first man smiled. "You are a fool as well as a dog, Lion, to believe you will ever have that chance. But before you die, you must command your troops to leave this place and march back to Lion lands. If they stay here, they too will be killed."
"By the heimin of this village?" Hametsu laughed, placing his weapon in his obi. "I think not. You are the only fools here!"
Twin bows tensed above them, their arrows shining in the sunlight. "How many archers do you have, ronin?"
"Enough."
"Do you hear that, men?" Hametsu said, handing his u'ins to another samurai. "When I die, these ronin ask that you leave."
The soldiers laughed, trusting in their lord's prowess.
Hoturi smiled bitterly beneath his hood. "I challenge you, Matsu Hametsu, to a duel to prove your worth. When your body is spilled upon the ground at my feet, the crows will pick at your entrails to find one single scrap of honor. But they will fail, and they will starve."
"My lord . . ." Gohei snarled, opening his hands before I l.unetsu in a gesture of obeisance before his enraged commander could respond. The two men spoke briefly.
Leaning toward Hoturi, Toshimoko whispered, "The Lion will never agree. He isn't angry enough."
"Ssh, old man. All will be fine."
"Hoturi, if the Lion attack, we can't hold them off alone."
Smiling, the champion of the Crane turned to his sensei and winked. "I spoke to Shiba Katsuda when we arrived in I he village. He remembers you well, Sensei."
Toshimoko's ears turned red, but his voice did not change. "Katsuda is wounded and of no help to us."
"He has been more help than you can imagine, Sensei." I loturi's lightly teasing voice was drowned out by the shouting Lion.
Gohei fell to his knees before Hametsu as the commander yelled orders to their men.
Toshimoko shrugged, his eyes hardly betraying the fear of a man facing fifty armed soldiers. He stepped back toward the arch once more.
In the road, Matsu Hametsu turned, stepping away from the body of the army and leaving behind a very angry lieutenant. "Ronin!" shouted Hametsu. "I, son of Matsu Akui, commander of the southern guard and honored by Lady Tsuko-sama, accept your challenge. Where do you want your ashes to rest after I have cut your head from your body?"
The Lion cheered their lord's bravery, raising spears and shouting his name as a war cry.
Hametsu grinned broadly before drawing his metal mempo across his face and attaching it to his helmet.
"Do not worry where to lay my bones, Lion," Hoturi grinned, enjoying the bloodlust that flooded up. "But what of your men, when you fall?"
"I have commanded Gohei-san," the Lion saluted his kneeling lieutenant, "to return to Tsuko, in the event that I am killed. He will not order the attack."
Glancing at Toshimoko, Hoturi nodded.
The Lion took a stance just in front of the village's gleaming torii arch and lifted his hand. "Come forward, ronin filth," he chuckled, eyes bright behind the metal fangs of his mempo, "and feel the claw of a true Lion."
Walking carefully, Hoturi moved toward the Lion commander, his hand light on the hilt of his sheathed blade. Tradition demanded that contestants in a formal duel be unarmored, unafraid to face death, but the Lion wore heavy battle armor. Hoturi had only his gi and hakima pants. Lighter, more able to move, it would seem Hoturi had the advantage, but the Lion's competence showed in his every step, and his armor could prove a mild deterrent, even to Hoturi's strong blade. Only time would tell the difference between a patient man and a dead one.
Hoturi felt anger rise behind his eyes, rage at the Lion for their greed, their arrogance, and the lives they had already taken. His gaze locked with Matsu, forcing him to relent.
The Lion moved into a martial pose.
Hoturi felt the world recede, narrowing to two men— himself and Matsu Hametsu.
The world itself stopped in the instant of a duel, to watch the hearts of the contestants. In the second before the strike, I loturi could feel the Celestial Heavens watching, and he prayed that they were pleased.
The swords cut forward in the same instant, piercing each other's guard to thrust toward the throat. At the last moment, the Lion's courage broke. He turned aside Hoturi's blow rather than striking. The swords turned, racing down their steel blades and shifting apart to prepare for another assault. Without hesitation, Hametsu cut toward Hoturi's legs, expecting the sword to be deflected.
Hoturi allowed the strike to go through but stepped nimbly beyond the blade's length. He slashed upward with a stroke intended to cut the Lion's arm in two.
Reeling back, Hametsu raised his sword and cut toward I loturi's body, but too late. Already, the other man's sword was within his guard, cutting sideways through his back and dividing the length of his spine.
<
br /> The Crane Champion stepped back and watched the Lion struggle. A soft noise escaped the Matsu's lips. Before he could scream, dishonoring his ancestors, Hoturi's stroke parted the head from the body. One blow, and the great commander of the southern guard was dead.
The soldiers stared in shock, their spears frozen.
"Leave this land!" Hoturi shouted, lifting his eyes from his beaten opponent.
Confused, the soldiers milled about in their lines, looking toward their lieutenant for an order—any order that would bring sense to their commander's death. A roar of fury escaped some throats. Others, stone silent, only raised their swords and prepared for the charge.
"I cannot order the charge," Gohei shouted. His voice broke with anger. "I cannot command you to seize this village or to destroy those who have stolen our brave commander's life."
Toshimoko stepped toward Hoturi, his hand on his sword. Now was the moment between life and death. The world had narrowed once more.
"But I can give you all a day's leave," Gohei snarled, fiercely drawing his sword from its sheath. "And while I cannot tell you how to spend it—" the soldiers' eyes gleamed as they realized their new commander's intent— "I can surely show you how I intend to spend mine."
Almost as one, the Lion charged.
Arrows sprang through the air, launched by the watchful Daidoji. For each arrow, a man fell, but the volley could not slow the charge.
Hoturi and Toshimoko raced into the village. Positioning themselves between two mud buildings in the village, they prepared for battle.
The sensei looked soberly toward his student as the first Matsu reached them. "Old times, Hoturi?"
"That's right, old man," Hoturi grinned. He parried the Lion's first slash.
"Stop grinning!"
"Never. Not while we're winning." Quickly cutting through a Lion, Hoturi began a series of intricate attacks. Blood glistened on his sword.
Toshimoko dispatched another soldier and then a third. "Winning?" he exclaimed loudly. He caught the sounds of heimin screams, and the faint smell of smoke as the first buildings were set aflame.
"Let's go." Hoturi and the sensei dodged through buildings, cutting down Matsu guards with swift strokes.
A pair of Matsu tore open the door to a large house. Within, a heimin man held his rake aloft, daring to defend himself against the samurai. Laughing, the Matsu chopped the rake in two, stepping toward the heimin and his young family.
Hoturi leapt toward the doorway.
One of the Matsu shifted his sword to catch Hoturi's charge.
Parrying with a swift stroke, Hoturi turned the Lion's blade into the wall. Metal thudded through packed earth.
The second man hurled a tanto toward the Crane's face. The tanto missed, but narrowly.
Hoturi caught the Lion in the face with a solid punch and sent the man staggering backward.
The other Matsu withdrew his sword from the wall.
Hoturi dodged for the door but saw three more Lion outside, lighting fire to another hut. There would be no easy escape. He parried the first Matsu's blows and kept him in the other man's way. The tactic would not last long. Already Hoturi's arms grew weary.
The peasant struggled to quiet her child as the three samurai tore at each other with brightly shining blades.
Hoturi kicked one Matsu, feeling the Lion's knee crunch.
The Lion staggered backward and fell. From the ground, he cut at Hoturi's leg. The sword tip sliced into Hoturi's thigh. Seeing blood stain the Crane's clothing, the Lion growled victoriously. He punched a gauntleted hand into Hoturi's wound.
Blazing agony shot through the Crane Champion's leg. Grunting, Hoturi stumbled. He chopped his katana through the Lion's body. The strike was messy, and the sword shivered as it reached the solid earth floor. Sweat dripped into his eyes. Hoturi tried to stand, struggling to draw his katana from the dead Matsu's body.
The second Lion stood above him. Mocking laughter rang from his lips as his katana descended.
lust before the blow could fall, Hoturi felt a presence beside him. Half standing, half leaping, Toshimoko fell through the open doorway. His blade twisted to parry the Lion's fatal strike. The Lion's blow ricocheted from Toshi-moko's sword, sliding down the blade and sinking deep into the sensei's arm. Without a sound, Toshimoko's katana rose again, cutting the Matsu three times before he could fall. The Lion didn't have time to savor the wound he had given the swordmaster. His body struck the floor, and his eyes closed in death.
Outside, in the burning village, a horn sounded. Looking up from his bleeding shoulder, Toshimoko said, "More Lion?" He grimaced. "We haven't finished with these yet." Pain etched his face, but his voice and his sword were steady.
"No, Toshimoko." Hoturi stood slowly, testing his lightly injured leg. "That's not the sound of Lion troops. That's a northern troop cadence."
A shadow in the open street proved Hoturi's words. Three Lion lowered themselves into battle stances.
Hoturi stepped out of the hut.
The Lion soldiers roared to their companions and raised their blades.
A single Phoenix samurai-ko, her black hair shining over her flame-colored armor, stood wreathed in the smoke of Haikeun's buildings. She smiled peacefully, holding her sword gently in one hand. Behind her, two men stood, their robes shifting in the wind of the flames. As the Lion marched toward her, the young woman smiled and raised her sword.
At her cue, the men began to chant. The flames around her soared to the sky with the power of the kami. The Phoenix shugenja lifted the spirits of the flame to do their bidding. Chanting the mantra of the fire kami, they called to the blaze, summoning the heart of each flickering flame to life. Fire danced, arching higher above the street. It pulsed with the sound of the shugenjas' voices. It twisted across the dark road and glared from the sword of the samurai-ko.
The woman advanced through the shifting flames, stepping within the roaring inferno. As fire danced around her, the Lion retreated, their steps unsure.
With a powerful lunge, the Phoenix was upon them. Her bright sword was shrouded in burning flame.
The Lion screamed as its white-hot power struck through them. One was consumed in flame, and the other was cut apart by the samurai-ko's sword. As the third Lion fled from the onslaught, the woman smiled behind a thick veil of black hair.
"Honorable Hoturi-sama," she shouted over the battle sounds. "It seems you have a fight on your hands. Can we be of service?" Her eager grin belied the serious words.
"We would never begrudge you any kind of amusement, Tsukune-san!" Hoturi smiled at the staring Toshimoko for a moment, and then bowed in return to the samurai-ko. "Shiba Tsukune-san, this is my sensei, Kakita Toshimoko-san."
"Introductions can wait, my lord," Tsukune saluted both men. Her sword smoked from the heat of the Phoenix flames. Suddenly, through the smoke, Hotusi could see twenty more Phoenix bushi stood, confident and silent, behind Tsukune. With an eager smile, the samurai-ko said, "There are Lion to fight."
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The Lion retreated to the north, toward Matsu Tsuko's gathering armies. Their banners were torn and charred, but their golden mon still gleamed from more than twenty shoulders. Of the Phoenix, eighteen survived, including the two Isawa shugenja and their mistress. The village of Haikeun smoldered, but most of the buildings still stood.
Hoturi stood in the doorway of a heimin's hut and stared after the retreating Lion troops. They still had the upper hand. Tsuko still gathered troops to the north, threatening Sayo Castle and the winter provisions of the Crane.
Toshimoko lay on a mat within the huts. A young Isawa Yao bound his wounds and prayed to the spirits for the sen-sei's swift recovery.
"He was lucky not to lose the arm," Tsukune said, moving silently behind Hoturi and gazing after the Lion. As if she could read Hoturi's thoughts, she bowed slightly and continued. "Toshimoko-san will live to hold his sword for many more duels, Crane Champion. And, if his reputation correctly precedes him," her lips curv
ed narrowly beneath a dark shock of hair, "to hold more than a few geisha as tightly as before."
Hoturi laughed. "Tsukune-san." Bowing, he admired Tsukune's athletic form. She had removed her armor and wore only the short gi of a bushi. It suited her, Hoturi thought. He looked away before she could notice how his eyes had strayed to the gentle curves hidden by the brightly colored plates of her do.
"Hoturi-sama." Her cheeks dimpled in the sunlight, and her eyes danced a dark brown. The wind lifted the sweat-dampened hair from her neck.
"What will you do now?" he asked.
"Katsuda is still injured, as are several of my men." Tsukune glanced at the village behind them. "This small town is not provisioned to feed my men for several weeks, nor can 1 move them far.
"Kyuden Kakita is only three days' march to the south," Hoturi smiled.
Tsukune nodded, and her eyes narrowed. "Tell me, Hoturi-sama," she said, looking north. "How long has it been since you traveled to the Phoenix lands?"
"Four years, my lady."
"Four years." She paused, straightening her obi and the sword that hung gently at her side. "And yet you would invite me to your palace, as if it were only yesterday." Tsukune looked up at Hoturi. Something moved behind her eyes, a memory of times long past. She had seen through his invitation—a legion of Phoenix, even small, would lend great strength to Kyuden Kakita's defenders. Trapped by early snows, they could be forced to remain through the winter—and reward their hosts with valor in battle, come spring.
"Come to my tent this evening, Crane Champion, and speak with me."
"You would discuss my offer of hospitality?"
"I would discuss your bargaining techniques." She smiled. "You have lost some of your wit since your marriage, Hoturi-sama. By now, you would have invited me to your tent, not waiting for me to ask you to mine." For an instant, she slepped toward him. He could smell the sharp scent of her athletic body.
A noise behind them disturbed their reverie. Toshimoko coughed, spitting something to the ground as he came toward the two bushi. He moved his arm gingerly. "Your healer is well trained," he said gruffly, bowing to the Phoenix samurai-ko.