by Ryan Kirk
Asa didn’t bother to hide the tears. She wasn’t an emotional woman, but Takashi had worked his way deep into her heart, taking the only path that still existed. She nodded.
With caution, she undid his bonds, never taking her attention off her fellow blade. She wanted to trust him, but she wasn’t so foolish as to believe he wouldn’t try to fight back if given the chance. She granted him his short sword and took his long blade in her hands. It was a well-made sword.
Takashi knelt and said a short prayer. He took several deep breaths, and Asa watched as he settled into his final action. She took a cutting stance, ready at a moment’s need. Takashi looked up at her. “I wish you the very best.”
With a single motion, Takashi drove his short blade into his stomach. Asa forced herself to watch. He deserved that, if nothing else. Every moment seemed an eternity, and Asa forgot to breathe. Takashi’s face was made of stone, not showing the slightest bit of emotion. Blood poured from the wound in his stomach, but he didn’t move a single muscle. Asa wanted him to show something, some sign she could end his suffering, but he remained still, defiant, just as he had in life.
Finally, he bent his head forward. As he did, the expression on his face changed, and he started to smile.
Asa’s cut was clean, and she felt the energy that had been Takashi empty from his body and join the Great Cycle.
Chapter 2
Minori looked over the board, only half paying attention. Hajimi wasn’t a bad player, but Minori was much, much stronger. They had played together dozens of times, and Hajimi had never won, yet he kept coming back, always ready for another chance. Minori didn’t take any particular joy in playing him, but he respected the older man’s determination. Minori was only a few moves away from finishing the game, but he didn’t think Hajimi recognized this.
Across from him, Hajimi focused, his stare boring holes in the wooden board. When Hajimi smiled, Minori knew the game was over for good. Just as Minori had expected, Hajimi moved one of his peasants, setting up a trap one move later. From a certain perspective, the stratagem would have been a good one, but Hajimi lacked the foresight to see the result of his move. Blinded by the prospect of short-term gain, he missed the threat looming on the horizon.
Minori pretended to think over his move while his opponent spoke. Hajimi never talked while he was debating his next move, making any conversation a ponderous affair.
“This has been a good game, Minori. There are days when I wish we had fewer responsibilities and could play all day.”
Minori looked up and smiled. He couldn’t think of anything more boring. “It would be a relaxing way to spend our time, but the Kingdom must come first.”
Minori sacrificed his lord, one of his strongest pieces, to set up the endgame he wanted. Hajimi took the bait without question, and a few moves later, the game was over.
Hajimi had the grace to laugh about his loss. “Minori, you are the best player I have ever come across! How do you do it?”
Minori was pleased at the compliment. “Everyone has different weaknesses. It’s simply a matter of being able to find and exploit them.”
Hajimi’s sharp eyes pierced into Minori’s. “And tell me, what’s my weakness?”
Minori paused, as though considering. Hajimi would never realize Minori had hoped for just that question. “You’re a strong player, but you have a tendency to focus too much on the center of the board.”
Hajimi frowned. “But the player who controls the center of the board controls the game. Basic strategy.”
“Yes, but the mistake is to think the center of the board is controlled by the pieces at the center. You’re so focused on the pieces there that you miss the threats coming from the edges of the board. When I play you, I control the center by controlling the edges and working my way in.”
Hajimi nodded in understanding. “This is why you suggested we send an assassin to kill Takashi? Because the actions near the edges of the Kingdom affect the center?”
“I fear the key events of our generation have happened on the edges of the board. Takashi is dead, but his ideas still spread from peasant to peasant. Two Falls was on the very edge of the Kingdom, but that day reverberates through history. If we wish to control Haven, we must be able to control the boundaries of our land.”
They stood up and walked in silence for a while, enjoying the sights and sounds of the garden where they had been playing. As they walked, Minori gave a small bow to the master gardener, carefully raking the pattern into a small stone garden. Minori appreciated the man’s efforts, and he wielded a rake with the same care Minori wielded his sword.
His thoughts were interrupted by Hajimi. “Minori, one reason I so enjoy our matches is because of the way you approach the game. You are thoughtful and always looking at the larger picture. It’s for these very reasons that I have a new assignment for you.”
Hajimi stopped, and Minori paused beside him. “I hate to ask this of you, because you already do so much for the council, but many of us are convinced there is no better person for the task.”
Minori only had a moment to wonder what the mysterious task could be. Knowing Hajimi, it could be almost anything.
“We’d like you to travel down to Haven and act as a liaison to the king.”
Minori, through cycles of practice, controlled his reaction. Instead of the joy he felt, he affected a concerned expression. “Has something happened to Kiyoshi?”
Hajimi shook his head. “No, but the council believes the current situation requires a stronger presence at court. Kiyoshi will continue in his duties, but I’d like for the two of you to work together. Kiyoshi’s wisdom can be your guide, but your intelligence and perspective could be very valuable.”
Minori bowed to Hajimi. “I’m honored to serve.”
Hajimi waved away Minori’s bow. “Come, now. We’ve known each other for many cycles. I knew you’d accept, even though it means you’ll have to leave these gardens you love so well.”
“A worthy sacrifice.”
“I do not think you’ll be saying as much a few moons from now.”
“How may I best serve the council at the capital?”
Hajimi looked around, almost as if worried about shadows. Minori smiled at the thought. If there was any spy bold enough to sneak into the Hall of the Blades, where everyone could sense your presence, they deserved the secrets held within. But still, Hajimi hesitated, and Minori had to encourage him to speak openly.
“The council believes we need to have a stronger voice at the king’s side. Kiyoshi’s strength is in his ability to work with people, but time and time again, he has been willing to make concessions that we believe weaken the Kingdom.”
Minori knew what Hajimi was referring to. The blades’ power had been strongly curtailed in the past few cycles, while the three great houses’ power continued to grow. The only balancing force against the lords was the blades, loyal only to the Kingdom, and by extension, the king. The great houses might bicker and skirmish among themselves, but no one would dare to endanger the Kingdom with the blades around to maintain order. Though they were far fewer in number than the armies the lords wielded, their strength as warriors would decimate any opponent on the field.
So the houses resorted to politics, playing on the latent fear that existed in the populace. The blades were almost mythic in their status and, for better or worse, feared as much as they were respected. The houses had been spreading stories of abuses. Some were mundane, such as blades demanding payment for services or deciding who to help based on their wealth. But those mundane stories allowed for even more dangerous rumors to spread. Rumors of murders, rapes, and robberies. True or not, rumor by rumor, the people began to fear the blades.
The houses seized on that fear and, with Kiyoshi at the capital, had managed to push through a number of laws that limited the ability of the blades to act. It had started with a census and a registry, so that every blade in the Kingdom was known. Then, step by step, the houses insisted
that the Council of the Blades seek approval for almost any action within their families’ lands. The council could now do little without first seeking approval from at least one house, putting the council in a dangerous position. The blades were and had always been the glue that kept the Kingdom together.
Hajimi continued. “The council has debated long and hard, and we have decided it is time for us to make more dramatic moves. Strength must rule this land. None of the lords have the will. We are the only ones fit to rule.”
Minori agreed. Blades would make the best rulers, not driven by fear in the way of lords and citizens. Being gifted with the sense, they could see further and understand more than any normal person could hope to. But long ago their ancestors had decreed that no blade would take the throne. They had decided it was too much power in one place.
Minori respected his ancestors, but disagreed with them. Power should be concentrated. Any swordsman knew focus was essential in both battle and life. Power was no different. Concentrated, power could effect change as decisively as a killing cut with a blade. Spread out, power was weakened. He would fight until the day he died to see a blade on the throne.
He looked at his superior. “If I can see or create opportunities to acquire more authority for the blades, should I pursue it?”
Hajimi nodded. “The houses are too strong, and if the pattern continues, it can only result in open conflict. More than anything, we would prefer to see a future without violence. You will be instrumental in bringing that about.”
The two men walked in silence for some time, Minori soaking in the peace of the gardens. He cultivated an image of a man who loved the gardens, only half a lie. He did enjoy the peace they provided, but he would never hesitate to give the green up if he could serve the blades.
Minori hid his smile, as he was delighted at this turn of events. He had been prodding the council in just this direction for quite some time. He had thought he wouldn’t have a chance until Kiyoshi died. Rumors circulated of the old man’s illnesses, but he seemed to stubbornly hold on to life. Some days Minori worried that he might pass away to the Great Cycle before Kiyoshi.
One pressing question still remained unanswered.
“Forgive me for the bluntness of this query, but I must ask, to fully understand the council’s will. How far am I permitted to go to gain the advantages we seek?”
Hajimi fixed his subordinate with a cold stare, but Minori didn’t back down. Minori might be advanced in age, but he had made his name with legendary assassinations, and his skills had not dulled with age. If anything, the cunning developed with age gave him a tremendous advantage.
Hajimi’s answer was as direct as any he was likely to give: “You may go as far as is necessary.”
Chapter 3
Kiyoshi inspected the message in his hand. It bore the king’s seal, which seemed unnecessary to Kiyoshi, but he believed that was true of most of the trappings of office. The writing was in Masaki’s hand, but Kiyoshi could see the note had been scribed in a hurry. Given the nature of the message, that wasn’t surprising. He suppressed a sigh. Another day, another scheme brewing. Crisis was almost becoming monotonous.
Despite the urgency of the king’s hand, Kiyoshi didn’t hurry. Haste led to mistakes, and those he couldn’t afford to make. He browsed through his outfits, settling on a plain white set of robes, the daily wear of a dayblade. Then he took both his long and short swords and tied them to his hip.
It was unusual for a dayblade to walk around with swords. A healer had little need for them. But these blades were gifts from Masaki. They would also remind the lords that Kiyoshi, unlike any of them, was allowed to wear his steel in the presence of the king. A petty display of status, but it was all the lords responded to. As much as he desired to draw the swords, he wouldn’t. Such gestures would do the Kingdom no good.
After he finished preparing, he walked deliberately toward the receiving hall. His footsteps caused the nightingale floor to sing underneath, and he knew his arrival would be noticed. The lords would also notice he didn’t hurry. Let them know he had no fear of their power.
He entered the hall and took in the scene. His eyes narrowed at the sight of all three lords sitting around the table with King Masaki. Whatever move they were going to make, it was going to be serious today; he could see that plainly from the looks on their faces. Kiyoshi let his sense wander over the room. The energy coming from the lords was palpable. None were blades, but all were powerful leaders. They weren’t to be underestimated. In contrast to the young and healthy lords, Masaki was sick, as he would be until the day he died.
Kiyoshi knelt and bowed his head to the floor, suppressing his pride. Yes, they were lords, but he was a blade, and he had no desire to bow to anyone but the king. His knees didn’t bend like they had forty cycles ago, but his movements were still strong.
Kiyoshi took his place next to Masaki, whose face was grave.
“I apologize for my delay, lords. I had just finished a healing and was not prepared for this meeting.”
Lord Isamu, head of House Fujita, who controlled the lands in the south third of the Kingdom, was the first to speak. “Your apology is accepted. We understand how important the work you do is. Thank you for your haste.”
Kiyoshi bowed in gratitude. The lord’s words were empty, but he was a polite man. Isamu was a large man, born into riches and opulence. Even if Isamu would rather see Kiyoshi with a sword through his chest, he would never say an impolite word, especially not in the King’s Council.
“Thank you, Lord Isamu. My summons from the king did not speak as to the cause for this meeting. What has happened?”
Kiyoshi didn’t like Isamu, either—a visceral reaction. He detested the lord’s rich dress and condescension. His hands were soft, never having held a blade or done hard work. But though Isamu was clever in his own way, he wasn’t the one Kiyoshi worried most about. That honor was held by the lord who spoke next.
Lord Shin, the head of House Amari, answered, “I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, Kiyoshi.”
Kiyoshi knew that to be a lie. A tension, tighter than any bowstring, could be felt between the two men, but Shin was exceedingly clever. He was the lord of the lands to the north and west of the Kingdom, and he had the ability to manipulate people to his own ends. Like Isamu, he was not a warrior. His hands had never held a sword, but they were bloody all the same. He was tall and thin, and more than once, Kiyoshi had wanted to cut him down. Whenever Shin smiled, Kiyoshi got the impression he was witnessing a man who could see the strings, the motivations of everyone, and pull as he needed. In Kiyoshi’s opinion, Shin was the most dangerous man in the Kingdom.
Shin continued, “It deals with another offense by a nightblade.”
Kiyoshi fought against his own reaction. Their scheme was always the same. For just a moment, he wished his enemies would have more imagination, just so he could have a new problem to deal with.
Again he placed his forehead to the floor. “I apologize for my people. What has happened?”
Masaki asked Kiyoshi to sit up straight. “I appreciate your sorrow at this turn of events, but you do not bear the responsibility for every blade in the Kingdom. I don’t scrape my forehead against the floor for every crime committed by one of my citizens. Let us work together to solve this problem.”
Kiyoshi appreciated Masaki’s kindness, but he worried the king would look weak in front of the lords.
“Please, my lords, let me know what has happened.”
This time Lord Juro spoke. Juro was the head of House Kita, which managed the mountainous lands to the north and east of the Kingdom. Of all the lords, he was the one Kiyoshi most respected. He had been raised as a warrior, and he was an honorable man. His hands were well calloused, and he moved with a grace that told of his cycles of training with a sword. Unfortunately, he wasn’t wise enough to understand the plots of a man like Shin. “There was an incident in my lands. Some of my smaller villages near the mountains were being haras
sed by a well-organized group of bandits. Some of my militia units attempted to discover their lair, but were unsuccessful. The bandits must have found some hiding place deep in the mountains.
“Because of the militia’s failure, a nightblade was summoned to help discover the bandits’ lair. At first, everything went well. The nightblade intercepted several raids before they reached villages, and the villagers were pleased with his service. From what we can tell, the bandits gathered everyone for one all-out assault. They wanted to overpower the nightblade with sheer numbers.”
Kiyoshi nodded. There were no guarantees when fighting a nightblade, but the best hope for someone without the gift of the sense was to try to outnumber the nightblade as much as possible. A common strategy. Not efficient, but sometimes effective.
“The battle ended with the nightblade victorious. The villagers rejoiced until the nightblade began demanding remuneration for his services. At first the villagers were happy to contribute, but his requests became more and more extravagant, and now the villagers are more in fear of the nightblade than they ever were of the bandits. It is said the nightblade even killed a farmer who refused his request for rice.”
Kiyoshi’s eyes narrowed. This news was almost impossible to believe. But who knew what the truth was? The story was already likely being circulated throughout the Kingdom.
Kiyoshi searched for more information. “What actions have you taken?”
Isamu answered, his loud voice carrying over Juro’s calm tone.
“What do you mean what actions have been taken? We can’t take any action against a nightblade! Indeed, Lord Juro could send dozens of his men to die, but that’s not how the rule of law works. Nightblades are supposed to keep the peace. Their gifts make them perfect for such endeavors, but they need to be controlled. It is up to your people to keep yourselves in line. If not, we’ll have to remove the blades from service to the Kingdom.”