Nightblade Boxed Set

by Ryan Kirk

  Moriko continued wandering west, the direction the two guards had ridden from. There was a new peace in her heart that hadn’t been there earlier. Nothing would stand in her way.

  After another day of walking Moriko’s tenacity was rewarded. She felt a presence she had thought at times she’d never feel again pressing against her sense. It was the feeling of a city. The tension melted from her shoulders. She was surprised at how worked up she had become about the strangeness of the land. There were plenty of signs of camps and trails through the prairie, but she hadn’t found any people, and she’d been wandering the land for over a moon.

  To her frayed senses, it felt as if someone was building a larger and larger fire the closer she got to it. What started off as a bright pinprick of energy grew and grew until Moriko felt her sense would be overwhelmed by the sheer number of people in front of her.

  The plains in this area were more geographically varied. They rolled like waves that had been frozen in time and turned to dirt. Her going became more difficult as she was forced to go up hills and back down the other side. Her range of vision diminished from endless leagues down to whatever was behind the next hill. Moriko’s legs, sore from walking for so long, screamed curses at her every time she went up and over another rise.

  Soon she dared go no further in the daylight. Moriko could feel people for as far as her sense could extend, and patrols roamed the area frequently. None seem to be gifted with the sense, but she would make better progress at night when she didn’t have to hide half the time.

  Once night fell, sneaking up on the city was not a hard task. Though there were plenty of patrols, the grass was high and the space to guard was enormous. She was able to find a ridge that overlooked the city. When she did, she rubbed her eyes because she couldn’t believe what she saw. The valley, which was leagues long and at least a league wide, was covered with people. Hundreds, thousands of fires dotted the landscape. If she hadn’t been in danger, she might have called it beautiful.

  But what Moriko saw was not a city. Instead, it was the largest gathering of camps she had ever seen. There wasn’t a single permanent building anywhere in the camp. She corrected herself. There was one permanent structure near the middle of the encampment. It was a small raised platform, flat and featureless, but from it, a speaker could be seen the entire width and breadth of the valley.

  She scanned back and forth down the valley, soaking in all the knowledge she could. There were thousands upon thousands of people down there, and Moriko was sure she heard the voices of women and children carry up to her ears. It was a city for all intents and purposes, just without permanent lodging. As she scanned, she began to notice patterns. She could see where the city was divided, clear lines between camps. Some were larger than others, some by a significant amount. She figured even the smallest camp held at least a hundred members.

  In the darkness and with the distance she could not make out any other details. She was too far away for the sense to do her any good, either. At this distance, everyone blended together into one enormous outpouring of energy, too much for her to separate and analyze.

  Moriko debated her choices. She would have to go down into the Gathering. As much as it pained her to admit it, there weren’t any other options. She had made it further than any scout, but she still didn’t know what was happening. She didn’t know why they’d been attacked. In a perfect world, she would have taken a day to rest, but someone in this Gathering knew Moriko was out here. She worried he would send more hunters. Better to be in the camp now.

  The moon was well on its way across the sky by the time Moriko worked her way down into the Gathering. The guards had been staggered in such a way that it took her much longer than she expected to sneak down the hillside. When she got closer to the camp, she stopped to observe the scene below her.

  Most of the habitations seemed to be made of cloth and leather, wrapped around frames of different shapes. Some were more conical, while others were more spherical. She figured the smaller tents could hold four or five people, and maybe twenty to thirty could fit in the larger ones. From the people walking in and out of each of the units, it seemed like each one served many purposes. Women, children, and warriors came and left from each door.

  The scene below was largely one of celebration. Women were speaking to one another in tongues Moriko didn’t recognize, and children played freely with one another. At first, Moriko believed there seemed to be little concern for safety, but as she watched more closely she saw her assumption was false.

  She noticed it first with the youth. While at first glance they seemed to be given leeway to play wherever they wished, Moriko saw that in several instances that wasn’t true. Children would argue with one another about where they would play, and although she couldn’t understand the words they were using, their body language was easy to interpret. The youth were only allowed to play a certain distance away from camp. They were afraid of their mothers finding out if they went too far. Moriko almost laughed as she saw one young man give in to the peer pressure of his friends, leaving his designated area. It wasn’t long before he was caught and brought back by his ear, protesting his innocence the entire way.

  What seemed a haphazard assortment of tents was anything but. There were patterns in the layout of the tents, and Moriko could guess at the meaning behind some of them. Some were organized to protect a central tent, others to create small community spaces that offered a semblance of privacy. Although the Gathering was enormous, Moriko could see it was composed of hundreds of smaller tribes. She felt like she could make some educated guesses about each tribe just by studying the designs of their camps.

  All of it was interesting, but none of it gave her the answers she sought. She had hoped to hide in the crowd, but once she saw how the tribes were organized, she realized it would be impossible. Few wandered from camp to camp, and no matter where she entered, she would be immediately recognized as an outsider. She realized that if she was going to get closer, she’d have to get captured again. She studied the camps in her vicinity, wondering if one would be better than the others.

  Moriko’s gaze settled on one of the larger camps at the perimeter of the Gathering. The people there all seemed cheerful and well organized. She didn’t see some of the signs of dysfunction she saw in other camps. It seemed as good as any. She crept as close as she could, and when sneaking was no longer an option, she stood up and entered the camp, hoping she was making the right decision.

  It didn’t take Moriko any time at all to draw attention to herself. As soon as she entered the Gathering, she was spotted by children playing among the tents. Their shouts brought the attention of their mothers, who screamed their surprise. Moriko moved forward calmly, her hands held high. The first warrior to reach her was a young man, barely the age of adulthood. There was an unnatural eagerness in his eyes, and he didn’t stop to question her as he lunged forward with his sword. Moriko saw it was a short blade, even shorter than those of the hunters she had encountered in the forest. It was more of a long knife.

  This young man was no hunter. His moves were obvious well in advance, and she easily knocked the blade off track with one hand while slamming her palm into his face. She wasn’t out to make enemies, but she wasn’t going to allow herself to be attacked either. His nose broke with a satisfying crunch and he was down on the ground in tears. She raised her hands again and looked at the young man with pity. The boy had probably been hoping for some story to woo the women with. She had wrecked that dream, probably for some time, given the new shape of his nose.

  Next to the scene were two more young men who weren’t any more cautious. They saw their friend on the ground, and Moriko worried they weren’t getting off on the right foot here. They weren’t armed, but they charged her anyway. In a few moments each of them joined their friend in the dirt, gasping for air.

  The next party that approached was a group of seasoned warriors. Moriko hadn’t moved since fighting the young men. She had cleared a
space, but she figured it was smartest not to work her way further into the camp until she’d actually spoken with someone. The warriors strode into the space where Moriko was standing, scattering women and children out of their way. Their leader was a bear of a man, at least two heads taller than Moriko. He looked at the scene she had caused and laughed. He said something in Azarian, but Moriko shrugged her shoulders. “I do not speak your language.”

  The man was surprised, but recovered quickly. “It seems you have taught the young men here a lesson. I thank you.”

  Moriko nodded, but the man wasn’t done.

  “However, you will not do so well against me.” The man came after her, blade steady.

  Moriko didn’t want to keep fighting, but it seemed she had no choice. More than anything, she didn’t want to have to draw her blade. In her mind, all was fair when it came to fists and fighting, but if you drew a blade, you drew it to kill. The man attacking her was good. Very good. Moriko had to give up ground, and the man didn’t give her any openings she could exploit without her own blade. If she drew, the fight would be over in a moment, but drawing was the last action she was willing to take.

  The Azarian’s blade got closer and closer, and then Moriko snapped. She had never experienced the sensation before, but it was immediately apparent to her what had happened. When it came to her, it was so easy. She knew exactly what had happened and knew how to find the ability without problem again. The blade that had once been such a danger to her was now almost a joke. The openings were as easy to find as a mountain in the plains. Her actions were smooth and controlled, and she delivered a series of blows that staggered the man.

  Her opponent stumbled back and Moriko’s world returned to normal. She studied her own hand as though seeing it for the first time. So this was what Ryuu had been experiencing. The world had been so sharp, so clear. Moriko was addicted to the sensation, to the power.

  The bear in front of her wasn’t done. He caught his breath and moved forward, his actions cautious and controlled. Moriko didn’t sense any openings, but then she pushed herself to snap again and there they were, as clear as day. She allowed herself to drop back to normal perception, and the openings disappeared. Her opponent almost caught her. She snapped again and delivered one tremendous blow after another.

  In her opponent’s defense, he fought with incredible tenacity. He took punch after punch and kick after kick and still kept coming at her. Finally he made a last desperate attempt to cut her. He was the most off-balance he’d ever been in battle. Moriko leapt out of the way and delivered a powerful roundhouse kick to the side of his face that laid him flat in the dirt. He tried to get back up and couldn’t, finally giving up in a sitting position.

  Moriko shifted back to her normal perception. She was surprised to find the man was laughing, even though blood was streaming down his face.

  “I never thought I would see the day I was bested by a woman. At least, not in a fair fight. Tell me, what is your name?”

  “Moriko.”

  “Moriko. It is a strange name. But your strength is incredible.”

  He stopped laughing and stood slowly back up, a deadly calm on his face.

  “So, Moriko, who are you?”

  Moriko’s mind raced. She hadn’t thought through much of a plan. “I’m here as a messenger to speak with your leaders.”

  The large man scrutinized her. “You are a strange messenger, but I suppose these are strange times.” He stopped to consider the facts. “Very well, do you consent to be bound?”

  Moriko wasn’t in the mood. “I am a messenger from a lord. For what it is worth, you have my word I will not strike anyone else while I am here in camp. Unless I am attacked first.”

  The man laughed again. He seemed the type that found much enjoyment in all that life had to offer. “You are a bold woman. Had I met you at an earlier age, I would have taken you as my wife. I like you.”

  He shouted orders in Azarian and men moved to action. Moriko was impressed by how quickly the camp returned to normal. Even the children went back to playing now that the action was done.

  “Very well, I will take you to my clan leader. He will then decide your fate.”

  Moriko nodded. It was as good as she felt like she was going to get.

  “Thank you.”

  With that, the man led her off deeper into the camp. Moriko’s plan had worked. She was now a captive of the Azarians.

  It was a short walk to the clan leader’s tent, sitting at the center of the circle of tents Moriko had identified as this particular clan’s. She kept her eyes, ears and sense open to everything happening around her. Any small detail might be a useful key to the puzzle of the Azarians.

  The Gathering seemed to be a time of significant cheer among the people. Women crossed boundaries between clans to speak with one another, and although Moriko couldn’t understand what they were saying, the sound of women exchanging news and gossip sounded the same, no matter where one traveled. Children ran underfoot, cautious of the men but otherwise carefree.

  Moriko decided the Gathering was primarily a time of peace, although she assumed with any group this size there would be inter-tribal tensions. It was amazing to her that such a large group could exist in one place at all. She’d have to ask how long the event lasted. She smiled as she saw the day-to-day lives of the Azarians. If not for the tents and the physical appearance of the people, she could have been in any city in the Southern Kingdom.

  The tent they brought her to was larger than those around it and decorated more extravagantly. Most tents seemed to be made of unadorned leather, but this one was decorated with garish designs made with some sort of red ink or chalk. Moriko entered, accompanied by the man she had fought. He had cleaned off his face a little, but it was still obvious he had been in a fight. Apparently that wasn’t anything he was ashamed of, even though he’d lost.

  As soon as they stepped into the tent, the first person Moriko noticed was an older man. He had seen maybe fifty cycles. Despite his age, he still looked to be in peak physical condition. He moved well and his eyes were bright. He was a man who commanded respect, and Moriko had no doubt she was face to face with the leader of this clan. The man she had fought spoke rapidly in Azarian, and Moriko couldn’t make out any of it. She hoped she might be able to pick out some individual words, but everything came across as gibberish to her. She couldn’t tell if the two men were having an argument or a conversation, so she stood silently, ready for whatever would happen next.

  In time the matter seemed to be settled, and the man who had brought Moriko to the tent backed out of it, leaving her alone with his clan leader. Moriko was mildly surprised. She was still wearing her sword, and the man who had left knew she was capable of violence. She realized he must have taken her earlier promise at face value. Interesting. Her mind flashed back to Kalden, who had also taken her word at face value. She pushed aside the little pang of regret she felt.

  The clan leader looked her over, a process she bore with as much grace as she could muster. This was her first chance at learning something useful to bring back to the Three Kingdoms. Already she had been gone much longer than she had anticipated. She would be lucky to make it back before the leaves finished falling.

  “My name is Dorjee. I greet you, Moriko.” There was no smile on his face. She sighed inwardly. Perhaps it had been too much to expect a warm welcome.

  “Thank you, Dorjee.”

  “You gave Lobsang there quite a fight, and quite a story to go with it. Is it true?”

  Moriko admired the man’s simplicity. She wondered if she lied if he would believe her without question.

  “It is true. I have come from the kingdoms of the north to speak with your leader.”

  He rose an eyebrow. “You stand before the leader of the Gathering you see before you.”

  Moriko studied Dorjee for a moment. She hadn’t encountered any duplicity in Azarians yet, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist. She didn’t believe him, but wonder
ed if it would be appropriate to call out his lie. Perhaps it would be rude, but the Azarians seemed to value honesty. “No, I don’t.”

  Dorjee let the silence hang in the air for a moment, but Moriko could see from his face she had made the right choice in calling out his lie.

  “You are right, of course. What is the message you bring?”

  “I am sorry, but that message is only for the leader of the clans.”

  “But if your message is negative, it may be my people that suffer. Surely you can be reasonable.”

  “No harm will come to your people due to my message.”

  “You cannot promise that.”

  “No, but my message is one of friendship.” Moriko’s mind was racing. She had no idea what her “message” would be, but she hoped Lord Akira would back her up. She’d have to figure it out when the time came.

  Dorjee paused and thought. Moriko could almost see the thoughts running through his mind. She imagined it would be something of a coup for him to bring her to whoever the clan leader was. Her suspicions proved to be correct.

  “Fine. I will lead you to our clan lord, although I should warn you it will probably cost you your life.”

  Moriko nodded. She was trapped in a current of events she couldn’t control. All she could do was hold on and keep her wits about her. Ryuu would throw a fit when he found out she had walked straight into the Gathering and requested an audience with their leader. She didn’t care. It was the quickest way to her destination, and for the first time, she had a clear picture of what she was capable of.

  Dorjee said, “You will spend some time here in the camp with my men. They will tell you what you need to know. It may take several days for me to find a way to gain an audience. Until then, do I have your word you are not here to spy or harm my clan?”