Nightblade Boxed Set

by Ryan Kirk

  Already Tanak’s troops covered almost half of the Southern Kingdom, and the summer was just reaching its height. If Tanak maintained this pace he would conquer the Southern Kingdom in less than an entire season. It was unheard of.

  Akira resisted the temptation to slap himself. The more he stared at the maps, the more often he found himself falling into these patterns of thought. There still hadn’t been a true large-scale battle yet, and while Tanak had taken half of Akira’s kingdom, he had taken the sparsely-populated half. All the major objectives, including New Haven, were closer to the center of Akira’s kingdom, and none of those had fallen yet. Tanak had seen some great success, but he had yet to meet any real challenge.

  He forced himself to look at the map again. Tanak’s strategy, although brilliant, was straightforward in its large-scale planning. He had brought three armies across the river. Each army was slightly larger than one of Akira’s. Akira’s numbered about five thousand men each, a mix of cavalry, archers, and infantry. Tanak’s seemed to number a little over six thousand, from the estimates of scouts. One of Tanak’s armies had driven straight south, heading almost to the mountains which bordered the kingdom. Once near the border they had curved east, cutting across all of Akira’s kingdom.

  The other two armies had made similar moves. The largest army, and probably the best trained, had gone a little ways south and was cutting east across the center of the Southern Kingdom. The third army stayed close to the northern border on its sweep to the east.

  Akira’s forces weren’t so neatly arranged. The Fourth had been utterly decimated by the invasion. It had been the army tasked with guarding the border between Tanak and Akira, and it had been spread thin, thinking more about garrison duty than being on war footing. Units had been crushed, and nothing positive had been heard, just whispers that units here and there fought on, annoying the enemy, but little else.

  Akira had left his best army with Toro at the Three Sisters. He doubted the decision daily since he had made it, but it was too late to change his mind now. He heard the complaints of his generals. With another army they would have been able to easily defeat Tanak’s forces, but as it was, it would be a challenge.

  Akira was with the Second and the Third Armies, moving to finish those crawling along the southern border of his kingdom. Their strategy, as it stood, was to smash Tanak’s southern force with overwhelming might. If the Fifth could halt or destroy Tanak’s center army, the war would essentially be over.

  An uncomfortable amount of responsibility rode on the Fifth. Akira had little doubt the Second and the Third were up to their task, but the Fifth had the most challenging battle of all. If they couldn’t come through, Tanak would have a significant advantage over the Southern Kingdom. The problem was exacerbated by the knowledge that the Fifth wasn’t Akira’s best army. They were well trained and experienced, but the Fifth was often where soldiers nearing retirement were stationed. They were responsible for guarding the border of the Northern Kingdom and often served as a training army for new recruits. Much would be demanded of them in the upcoming battle.

  With one last glance at his maps, Akira made his way outside the tent. There, horses would be gathered to take him to the field of battle. The Fifth would meet Tanak’s First, and Akira felt a responsibility to be there when it happened.

  Akira rode with Makoto and Mashiro towards the battlefield. Usually the two generals were talkative, good company to pass the time, but this evening they were silent. Akira didn’t blame them. He didn’t have much desire to speak either.

  The three of them were accompanied by an armed guard, but they traveled light. They were going to the battle as observers. Makoto and Mashiro would lend their expertise, but the primary reason for the visit was so that Akira could be seen by his troops. He wouldn’t send these men to die without his presence.

  Makoto and Mashiro weren’t sure the battle could be won. As they traveled the day before they had spoken about the odds. On paper it was one army against another, but they believed Tanak had placed his best army in the center. Their shadows hadn’t given them solid information, but it was the most logical explanation. If true, it would be an uphill battle for his men, if not impossible. They held out hope they were wrong. Their men were well trained, even if the Fifth was considered the weakest army.

  They reached the site of the engagement just before dawn. Already the men were up and moving, preparing for war. They had made ranks and were marching to their initial positions. Akira and his generals found a viewpoint up on a hilltop safely removed from combat. From their position above the field, Akira could see all the preparations for both armies. He watched in morbid interest as thousands of men formed to the lay of the land and the orders of their generals.

  The battle began as the sun crested the treetops. Tanak’s forces marched forward, arrows darkening the sky. From his position of safety, Akira had to admit there was a certain deadly beauty to the arc of the projectiles. His men, falling below him, wouldn’t agree.

  There was a part of Akira that wanted to throw it all away. He wanted to draw his sword, hold it up to bathe in the early morning light of the sun, and charge down into the fray. If he died, he wouldn’t have to worry about what happened to his kingdom any more. He would have some measure of peace. But he held himself still, watching the battle progress. The kingdom depended on the outcome of this day.

  By midmorning, Akira’s banners had penetrated far into the enemy ranks, and Akira dared to hope. His men were performing better than anyone had expected. He glanced over at Makoto and Mashiro, who wore concerned looks. Akira squinted, trying to see what they saw. He had been trained in command, but it was the two young men to his side who possessed the experience. They didn’t look pleased.

  The battle took place in a low, flat valley. Akira could see the units moving almost as though he were watching pieces on a Go board. Again and again he thought he saw a move a unit could make, but he held his tongue. It was tempting to try to take control of the battle, but he refrained.

  As the sun rose to its zenith in the sky, the battle seemed even to Akira. Both lines were holding, but when Akira tore his eyes away from the scene, he saw his generals seemed more and more pensive. He studied the lines, trying to understand why they might feel that way, but he saw nothing to indicate imminent defeat.

  Mashiro and Makoto stood up and walked to him. “We should be leaving, my lord.”

  Akira looked up at them. “Why?”

  “Tanak hasn’t committed all his forces. There are at least a thousand men missing, and our scouts report they are flanking the battlefield. We’re turning to meet them, but unless we are given a gift by fate, this battle will be lost, and we’ll be trapped if we don’t move soon.”

  Akira shook his head. “We stay until the last possible moment. We’ve got fresh horses, they won’t be able to pursue. Let me know.”

  The generals understood and issued the orders.

  When the tide turned, it happened so fast Akira didn’t even recognize the moment it occurred. It seemed to him his troops were doing well. They had driven far into the enemy ranks, and with a final push they could snap the line and win the day.

  His optimism was completely unfounded. He never saw the moment the tide turned, but he watched his flags being pushed back further and further. It started slow, but by the time the sun was three-quarters of the way through the sky, his banners were losing ground dozens of paces at a time, if they weren’t falling forever. Akira couldn’t believe the number of men he had lost.

  His heart sank. He worried that he had lost his kingdom today, but he pushed aside the thoughts. He wouldn’t give in to despair. So long as he had breath in his body, he would fight for the Southern Kingdom. Tanak would never live in peace.

  Akira bowed deeply to the general and commanders of the Fifth. They would never allow themselves to be captured. He had respect for each of them.

  "Do you have any final requests?"

  The general looked at him
. "I ask only that you take care of my family, the same as you would for all the soldiers who have been lost here today."

  Akira nodded. The wish would be granted.

  Only one other of the commanders spoke. “Vengeance, my lord, is all I ask.” Other heads nodded around the circle.

  “That I will gladly do.”

  Makoto looked at each of them. “Regroup if you can. Attack them wherever they go. They may destroy your army, but you can still destroy their lives.”

  The commanders nodded.

  Akira was seized with a strong emotion that twisted his gut. These men were willing to give their lives for him. They believed in him, and he wouldn’t let them down. He wanted to be a leader worthy of their belief, he just didn’t know how.

  He looked one last time upon the field. It was clear now that his army was being overrun. It had been a gamble in the first place, but a necessary one. They had inflicted casualties, though. It would take Tanak time to regroup.

  But there was little time to be sentimental. It wouldn't be long before Tanak's army reached the place where they stood, and it was clear they had seen Akira's personal banner. The final battle would be on top of this hillside.

  With one last oath of vengeance, Akira turned and went to his horse. He knew that as a symbol he was more important than an entire army, but he couldn't help but feel like he was a coward who only sent other men to die for him.

  Akira cursed one final time as they rode off quickly back to the east, away from his first real defeat.

  10

  Moriko eyed her opponents warily. The four of them were charging down, unleashing arrow after arrow. Her sense allowed her to sidestep the shots with little difficulty, but as they got closer it became more and more challenging. She had hoped they might run out of arrows, but when she got a closer view of their quivers, she realized she'd run out of luck long before they ran out of arrows.

  Moriko kept moving from side to side, allowing arrows to pass by her harmlessly. She focused on calming her breath and expanding her sense. She had never fought opponents on horseback before. Ryuu had taught her how, but being taught and living through the experience were very different tasks.

  She thought they would charge her down, but she was wrong. Once they reached a certain distance, about forty paces away, they split off from their straight line, trotting in a circle around her. They weren't at full gallop, but they were moving quickly enough that it made them hard to track.

  It took Moriko a moment to figure out what they were planning. They had seen her sword, and instead of giving her a chance to defend herself, they were going to ride circles around her, shooting at her until she fell. They had no intention of giving her a fair fight.

  Moriko cursed. She could dodge arrows or deflect them with her sword, but her luck was bound to run out sooner or later. She'd get tired and make a mistake, it was only a matter of time.

  Moriko had throwing knives hidden in her outfit, easily accessible with a quick flick of her wrist, but she'd need them to get at least ten paces closer. Her aim was uncertain beyond thirty paces.

  The archers and Moriko began an intricate and deadly dance. The archers rode around, firing at her, almost nonchalantly, while Moriko dodged and spun out of the way of arrows. She didn't draw her sword, hoping for a chance to unleash a throwing knife. She was able to sense the arrows launched behind her, but it was getting more challenging to stay unharmed.

  The riders changed their pattern, making the circle more of an oval, shooting at her when they were closest to her and drawing another arrow as they pulled away. Moriko was getting less and less time to dodge, and she was grazed by at least two arrows. The ground around her was littered with missed shots. Moriko could tell the riders were getting frustrated at not being able to hit her, but their discipline held.

  The moment came without warning. One of the riders, furious at being unable to hit her, rode in too close. Moriko figured he was less than twenty paces away. She drew a throwing knife, aimed, and threw. Her aim was true enough. She had been trying to strike him in the head, but the shot went low, cutting into the soldier's neck. He fell from his horse with a look of surprise on his face. His horse stood there, wondering what to do next.

  Moriko leapt towards the riderless horse. She had a few options. She could grab the horse and try to escape, but her experience indicated she'd just be run down again. Instead, she went for the bow of the fallen soldier. She wasn't trained in archery, but she figured she could figure out how to nock an arrow and fire it in the general direction of a rider. If nothing else it might scare them off a bit. She dodged two arrows as they tried to bring her down from behind.

  One rider yelled in a language Moriko didn't understand. She didn't know what he was saying, but she figured he'd realized what she was doing. He charged towards her.

  Moriko glanced back as the horse was coming down on her. She had a knife in hand, but the horse blocked her view of the rider and she didn't think she'd have any chance of bringing down the horse itself with a knife. She sheathed it, running desperately for the bow only paces in front of her. Her sense screamed, letting her know she wouldn't make it.

  Instinct and training took over. The rider was trying to ride her down by placing her on his right side, the side of his sword hand. At the last moment she leapt to the left, putting herself on the other side of the horse. She drew her blade and cut, slicing through horse and man alike. They both screamed and collapsed in one large pile on the ground. Moriko heard bones break under the force of the impact.

  The final two riders veered from their own charges, deciding they had taken enough losses. They rode off until they were sitting about sixty paces away. Moriko could hear them discussing the situation, but without understanding the language she had no idea what they were saying. She waited, patient and alert. From this range there was no way they could harm her.

  They didn't seem to share the same opinion. She saw them take an arrow each and dip it in a small sack hanging down the side of their horses. She wondered if they were going to use her for target practice. It seemed like a waste of good arrows. They had to realize they had no chance from where they sat. They each pulled their arrows back and Moriko realized too late what they were doing.

  Moriko watched helplessly as they fired both their shots into the air. She took one last forlorn glance at the surviving horse, the horse of the rider she'd killed with the throwing knife. She wanted to run and save it, but there wasn't time. Both arrows struck in the horse's side and it collapsed to the ground. Moriko assumed they'd dipped the arrows in some sort of poison. With their final shot, the riders turned and left, leaving her alone in the vast expanse of prairie.

  Three dead horses and two bodies surrounded her. She cursed. Without a horse, she had no idea how she would survive. She was a long way from the Three Kingdoms, and given the meager amount of game she'd killed on the way down, she wasn't sure she'd be able to kill enough to get back.

  There was only one choice to make, and Moriko didn't like it. She had to keep heading south, hoping she'd find the Azarians before her supplies ran out. It was either that or die in this endless grassland.

  Despair was starting to set in. Moriko had been walking south for almost another half moon, and she had seen and sensed nothing but the occasional patrol. Whenever she encountered one she would sit in the tall grass and suppress her presence. She suspected word of her battle with the Azarians would have spread, and she had no desire to dodge arrows while Azarians used her for target practice.

  Moriko didn’t understand. The Azarians were a nation of people, but she couldn’t find them. How could you not find a whole nation? The only sign people even lived on this land was the tracks and trails which crossed the ground. If not for the tracks and the occasional scouting party, Moriko would have had no problem believing the land was hers alone.

  Part of the answer had to be the size of the land. Azaria had to be much larger than the Southern Kingdom. Perhaps it was even larger tha
n the entire Three Kingdoms. Moriko had never experienced a land so vast and untamed.

  It was late morning when the mirage first appeared. At first glance it appeared to be a city, or a near approximation of a city. To Moriko’s tired eyes it seemed like small mounds were rising from the ground, but in far too orderly a fashion to be natural. She paused and threw out her sense, but she felt nothing. She knew she was a long way away, but if it was a city, it should throw off enough energy for her to sense it. The lack of energy emanating from the mounds convinced her it was just a mirage. She glanced suspiciously at the sun. It was at the right angle to cause the sight to appear.

  Regardless, the mounds were in line with the path she was following, so as the morning wore on she continued to approach them. She watched them constantly, and as the sun reached its midpoint, the mounds stopped shimmering and became solid.

  Moriko panicked, ducking into the long grass. If it was a city, she would have been in sight for most of the day. Guards would be well aware of her presence by now. She sat still and calmed her mind, but still she sensed nothing from the city.

  Moriko was scared. There were two possibilities she could think of. Either every person in the city knew how to suppress their presence, or the city itself was empty. Moriko didn’t want to consider either of them as realities. She lifted her head cautiously above the grass, scanning for signs of life, signs of movement. Gaining confidence, she sat and watched, but no matter how long she stared, her eyes couldn’t make out any movement.

  She loosened her sword from its sheath and moved forward. It seemed to be an empty city, but that made no sense. Perhaps it was a trap to lure in scouts like herself.

  As she approached the city its size grew. It was made of dozens upon dozens of single-story buildings. Some of them were large, but the city itself was expansive. Moriko knew she could wander for more than a day and not be able to explore every building.