The Open Road

by Paul Kidd

  “No no. No time. No time!” The man went back to hauling desperately at his cart. “It all has to burn. Has to burn before the new moon!”

  His face seemed to swell and writhe. Sano Moko’s horse tried to shy. She stared at the man as he doubled over in pain.

  “What’s wrong with you? Are you ill?”

  Lightning flashed. The scent of distant rain came on the air. The babbling man looked up in fright, suddenly seeing the jet-black clouds.

  “It has to be before the storm. If it’s wet, it won’t burn!” He started frenziedly hauling at the cart. “It all has to burn!”

  “What has to burn? You there! Look at me! What has to burn?”

  The man wept in frenzy as he tried to drag the cart a few more paces towards the trees.

  “The forest. All of it! All of them! Before it’s too…”

  The man suddenly staggered, clutching at his stomach in agony. An instant later, he had snatched a hold of Moko’s arm in a grip of iron. He stared into her astonished eyes.

  “Samurai! Burn it! Burn it!”

  His mouth opened wider and wider in one long, choked scream, as spiders suddenly erupted from his throat.

  The man’s stomach burst open like a rotten fruit. Hundreds of pale spiders came swarming up out of his flesh, fountaining out of his open, screaming mouth. Sano Moko’s horse reared in terror as spiders clawed their way up over its hide, sinking fangs into its flesh. The beast fell, and Sano Moko leapt from the saddle, crashing down into a combat roll then coming back up onto her feet.

  Her horse was thrashing wildly, foaming and dying – poisoned by the swarm that closed in over its head. Spiders spread behind and to each side in a chittering, ravening blanket of death. Sano Moko looked frantically about herself. Lightning flashed – and she suddenly saw her chance.

  The samurai woman leapt wildly over a swarm of spiders. She landed heavily in the road, smashing at spiders that had somehow reached her armour. She fell as she frantically beat at herself, crushing spiders on her arms, legs and chest. Moko saw the horde closing in about her. She scrabbled to her feet, seizing her naginata from where it lay in the dusty road.

  The cart was nearby, its huge oil barrels gleaming and dripping. Moko sped towards it with spiders surging ravenously towards her. She reached the cart, slamming hard against it. Moko hurtled an oil bucket at the inrushing swarm to her left, but the spiders simply drove forward through the oil, eyes glittering in the torchlight as they ran hissing and chittering towards her.

  Moko moved with frenzied speed. She rammed her heavy naginata blade deep into a barrel, twisting hard to open a great splintered hole. Oil pulsed out, splashing over the wood and down into the road. Moving with frantic speed, Moko sliced through the ropes binding other barrels in place. They tipped and fell. She stove in the top of one barrel, freeing a great gush of oil. The barrels rolled off amongst and behind the spiders, spreading oil all across the road.

  Sano Moko seized hold of the flaming torch, and hurtled it out towards the rolling barrels.

  Fire rippled out along the surface of the oil. The road was engulfed with flames, spiders shrivelling and dying in their hundreds. Moko shielded her face from the heat, fighting her way back away from the cart and out into the open fields. She coughed, half blinded by the smoke. Behind her, the carpet of spiders withered, burned and died.

  Her horse was dead – her food, water and equipment had all burned in the flames. But Sano Moko still had her deadly naginata, and a samurai’s heart. The woman looked from the blazing bodies of the spiders and the dead man in the road towards the dark, forbidding forest.

  A final spider crawled towards her. Sano Moko stamped on it, grinding down with her bearskin riding boot.

  She lowered her naginata into guard, and moved grimly into the forest.

  Lightning flashed. The road burned – and a samurai marched onward in the hunt.

  A rainstorm was coming. The clouds had grown lower and lower, shutting out the sunset. Distant lightning flashed across the sky, lighting the great black mass of a forest half a ri further down the road.

  Bifuuko and Daitanishi sheltered inside Chiri’s robes, hiding from the gusting wind. She had wrapped herself in a straw raincoat, with straw splash guards wrapped about her shins. Kuno and Sura were right behind her, dealing with a broken chin strap on Kuno’s straw rain hat. They were trying to hurry – knowing that a road clearly had to be heading somewhere. The first big, fat raindrops had just begun to fall, spattering a sharp scent of wet dust into the air.

  Tonbo had walked onwards down the road. He had pulled up his heavy iron helmet as protection from wind and rain, and had a straw cape draped over his armour. Far behind him, Sura pulled a straw raincoat about herself, and yelled forward to be heard above the wind.

  “Hey Tonbo! Where’s this village?”

  “Close.” The big man pointed his tetsubo to an old wooden bridge that arched over a choppy river just ahead. “You build a bridge because you need one.”

  A cold wind came from the looming mountains. Sura tugged her rustling raincoat tighter about herself and grumbled.

  “Unless you built one and then died of cold.”

  Suddenly it began to pour in earnest. Rain sluiced down from above, hammering into the road, striking hard enough to fill the air with a choking haze. Sura hunched, protecting her eyes. The noise of the rain was utterly deafening.

  “Oh crap!” Sura managed to reach Kuno, and hustle him onwards. She had to yell to be heard above the storm. “Can’t you walk any faster? We’re going to be drowned!”

  Kuno distained all mere histrionics about the weather. He walked along with calm dignity, attempting to ignore the rain.

  “A samurai cares nothing for comfort. A samurai pretends to have eaten a great repast even when he is starving.”

  “OK. So samurai have serious problems with reality control!” Sura ducked, tilting her hat to protect herself against the deluge. “How does that help me get out of the rain?”

  Chiri held her own rain hat on with one hand. She called cheerfully out towards Kuno.

  “This is serious. You know how Sura san’s fur reeks when it is wet.”

  The fox shot a hurt look over at Chiri.

  “Hey!”

  Lightning sheeted overhead. For one stark second, they saw a village across the far side of the bridge. An instant later, an immense crash of thunder shook the air.

  The village had been visible for only an instant. But it was a ruin, with shattered rooves and burned out houses. There was nothing left but a few charred timbers. Kuno, Chiri and Sura stared at the far riverbank, appalled.

  Behind the clouds, the sun had almost set. The rain was settling into a cold, hard deluge. Tonbo walked on, squinting as he tried to see the far side of the river. But distant lightning flashes showed nothing but jet black woods, and the waters racing underneath the bridge.

  Tonbo halted at the foot of the bridge and stood with his back to the rain, trying to shield his face. Sura and the others were nothing but vague shapes a dozen paces away. Tonbo wiped his face, then hesitated. He turned once again to scowl off towards the forest.

  The trees were black and somehow sinister. Light from distant lightning flashes somehow seemed to linger, outlining weird, lurking shapes deep in the forest. Tonbo stiffened, sensing something cold slowly pricking at his senses. He slowly lowered his tetsubo into guard.

  The big man turned slowly, trying to make his vision pierce through the gloom. He walked forward, footsteps echoing upon the old bridge.

  Rain drummed hard against the wood.

  There was a shape upon the bridge, at the centre. Tonbo came closer, and saw a woman standing with her back to him, utterly drenched through with the rain.

  The bottom half of her robes were hidden by a haze of raindrops and mist. Tonbo could hear the woman weeping – a terrible sound of loss and helpless grief. She held something against her heart, cradling it – trying to somehow shelter her burden from the rain. />
  Tonbo frowned.

  “Young woman – why are you crying?”

  The young woman wept, bowed down with exhaustion and despair. She staggered, turning – her face hidden by the dripping hood of her robes.

  “I can’t carry it! I just can’t carry it!” The woman shook with effort, cradling a swaddled bundle in her arms. She wept with great, broken sobs. “I haven’t the strength…”

  Tonbo kindly moved to put himself between the woman and the sweeping rain.

  “Hmph. Don’t cry. Here – get out of the wind.”

  The young woman turned. In her arms she carried a great black stone the size of a human head. Shaking from the superhuman effort of carrying the stone, she wept as she desperately tried to keep her grip.

  “I… I can’t hold it!” The stone began to slip. The woman made a sick noise of panic. “Please – I can’t hold it!”

  “Here – let me take it.”

  The young woman buckled. Tonbo seized her and set aside his tetsubo.

  He reached out to take the stone. The woman’s hands – hidden beneath her robes – clamped onto his armoured wrist with a grip of iron. Her voice shook with intensity – wild with pain.

  “Swear to me! Swear you won’t fail me! On your honour – swear!”

  “I swear!” Tonbo was quite confused. He was shocked by the woman’s pain. “I will do it. I swear.”

  Tonbo took hold of the rock. He was astonished at the weight: it was incredibly heavy, as if made from solid iron. The weeping woman sobbed in sick hope as she saw him manage to keep hold of the stone.

  “You swore! Samurai – you swore!”

  The young woman’s lower robes were drenched in blood. It poured out to flood over the dripping bridge. Tonbo saw the blood in shock. He looked up at the weeping woman before him.

  She clasped together a pair of skeletal hands in prayer.

  “Hold it samurai! Please carry it for me!” The woman screamed out her plea. “Please!”

  The rock suddenly turned red hot. Tonbo snarled as it burned him clean through his armoured sleeves. His grip slipped – and suddenly Sura’s shout came from just behind.

  “Don’t drop it!”

  Sura, Chiri and Kuno had raced onto the bridge. Seeing the weeping woman in her bloody robes, Kuno whipped a hand down to his sword. Sura held the man back, sheltering Kuno and Chiri behind her.

  “Don’t move! Nobody move!”

  Now aware of the newcomers, the weeping woman raised her head. Her face could partly be seen as the hood plastered wet against her. The flesh was almost gone – mere fragments of skin and rotten muscle clinging to a skull. Blood flowed steadily from the hem of her robes. She floated just above the surface of the bridge, robes hanging empty where her feet and lower legs should have been.

  The floating, bleeding woman wept, pleading, wringing her hands.

  “He swore! He swore he would hold it!”

  Sura moved carefully closer. She held a hand out towards Tonbo, who was arching in pain, trying to keep hold of the red hot stone.

  “Keep holding it! No matter what happens – hold it or she’ll try to take your soul!”

  The rock suddenly became freezing cold, crackling as the rain caked ice across its surface. Frost spread across Tonbo’s arms and chest. The rock weighed more and more – impossibly heavy – impossible to hold. The huge samurai gave a roar, getting himself braced under it, somehow managing to support the weight. Huge muscles bulged as he fought to keep the rock in his grasp. The big man shook his head, trying to ignore the ice-cold pain searing through his arms.

  Ice crackled and spread across Tonbo’s armour. Rain froze to frost upon his face. The weeping ghost hovered closer, watching in pathetic hope, desperate for Tonbo to succeed.

  The rock grew heavier. The bridge’s wooden boards creaked and groaned beneath Tonbo’s feet. He hissed, grip slipping. He bowed down, then ferociously tried to fight back, muscles shuddering as he heaved the frozen rock higher up into his arms. But he was weakening. Huge arms began to shake with the impossible effort of bearing up the stone.

  Sura flung herself down seated on the bridge, rain crashing down upon her. She clapped her hands together, intertwining fingers as she concentrated fiercely on empty air. She seemed to ram her consciousness against a barrier, slamming her way through. The fox held her hands with index fingers pointed. Her body suddenly flashed with a bright blue haze of power.

  “My heart sends its strength to thine.

  Soul to body, mind to mind…

  My heart sends its strength to thine.

  Soul to body, mind to mind…!”

  Tonbo fought back up higher onto his feet, suddenly feeling a new inrush of strength. Sura chanted, forcing more of herself into Tonbo as the stone increased in weight. The big man stayed in the battle, arms shaking, somehow keeping a hold of the stone.

  Blood fountained up out of the rock, bubbling and splashing – pouring hot and foul, almost choking Tonbo as it surged up into his face. The man held on.

  Sura kept up her spell, the chant repeating and repeating. She swayed – her voice hoarse. She was visibly weakening.

  The stone made one last effort, almost doubling its weight. The bridge boards almost snapped. But Tonbo roared in savage triumph, holding up the stone – managing to stand straight.

  The blood ceased. Suddenly the stone weighed almost nothing. It was warm – neither hot nor freezing. Tonbo panted, shaking his head – dazed.

  The weeping woman clasped her hands in grateful joy. She looked into Tonbo’s face. Suddenly the rotting skull clothed itself in flesh, becoming the image of a slender young woman with long hair streaked with strands of brown and gold. She looked at Tonbo in peace and gratitude.

  “Thank you, samurai. Thank you.”

  Sura shut off her spell. She tried to stand, but slipped in the rain. Kuno and Chiri raced to help her, but Sura waved them away. She used her spear to haul herself onto her feet. The fox lurched forward to stand beside Tonbo.

  “Honoured mother, we swear to see your burden is cared for with love.”

  Sura spun her spear, and sent it flashing through the air. The ideogram for the Tao shimmered brilliantly in mid-air. Almost unconscious on her feet, the fox gathered her power, and suddenly slashed through the symbol, slicing a gateway through into another realm.

  “Spirit of the gentle dead!

  Go now to your proper home.

  Enter restful paradise

  And from this world be gone!”

  The rift glowed with soft blue light. The ghost woman drifted over to Tonbo. She hovered over the black stone, caressing it with loving hands. The spirit bent to softly kiss the stone, resting her loving face against it, wetting it with tears.

  She bowed to Tonbo, then to Sura. The ghost woman backed slowly into the realm of the Honoured Dead. Finally she vanished, leaving the rift glowing blue and peaceful in the empty air.

  Sura swept the butt of her spear down over the slice into the other realm, sealing it shut. She stared – making certain the rift was closed – then collapsed. Kuno caught her, and she jerked in his grasp, shuddering as she went into a fit. Kuno held her tight against his heart, trying to shelter her from the rain, holding her until the fit could pass.

  Tonbo slammed down to his knees, utterly exhausted, his mind completely dazed. He still cradled the black stone. Chiri ran to him, putting an arm about him to keep him on balance. Suddenly something moved and squirmed against Tonbo’s armoured breast. Chiri looked down, and her jaw sagged open in shock.

  The black stone had gone. In its place was a baby wrapped in a ragged blanket. Tonbo looked down at it, utterly bewildered. The child weakly moved its little arms.

  Sura lifted her head, looking haggard, hollow eyed and exhausted. She gathered her ebbing strength and called hoarsely out through the rain.

  “An Ubume – a weeping ghost. This is the baby she died trying to bear.” The fox could hardly hold up her head. She nodded her chin to Tonbo.r />
  “C-Congratulations to the new father…”

  Sura fell unconscious. Rain poured down, the baby now soaking wet. Holding the fox in his arms, Kuno looked over to Chiri in alarm.

  “We have to get them into shelter!”

  The baby was stirring weakly. Chiri looked across the bridge and saw the ruined village half drowned in the storm. She pulled at Tonbo, managing to bring the big man back to his feet. She threw her own raincoat about his breast to shelter the baby.

  “This way! Come on!”

  Kuno picked up Sura in his arms, holding her like a limp rag doll. Chiri fetched Sura’s spear – Tonbo held the baby in the crook one arm, seizing his tetsubo with the other hand.

  Together, the team lurched onward through the rain. They plunged into the ruins, while overhead, lightning seared through a wild, dark sky.

  Chapter 2

  As lightning flashed, Kuno carried Sura on into the ruined village. Rain poured down, making streams and runnels all through the overgrown streets. Walls had collapsed, rooves were burned away long ago. The whole place was nothing but a wilderness of charred roof beams and blackened wood.

  Chiri tried to help shelter the baby. Suddenly she spotted an intact looking room amongst the wreckage. She called out to Kuno through the storm. He nodded, then carried Sura forward, kicking beams out of his way.

  A single house had survived partly intact. The roof had a hole burned through, but the walls were still largely in place. Kuno burst through into the pitch black space within. Water poured through the broken ceiling, but there was at least some shelter from the storm.

  Chiri led Tonbo in beneath shelter. Bifuuko struggled out of Chiri’s robes, shook herself partly dry, and laboured soggily up into the air. The little elemental gave off a faint glow, bringing light into the ruined house. Kuno nodded to the elemental in gratitude.