Nightblade's Honor

by Ryan Kirk

  Asa was more grateful than she would have imagined. A question stopped her in her tracks, though. “Does Ayano know as well?”

  Daiki shook his head, the sorrow evident in his bearing. “She does not. My wife is a very good woman, concerned only with the safety of our home and our son. But with him gone, she is easily swayed by the news coming from Haven. She would happily poison you if she knew the truth.”

  Asa wasn’t upset by this, yet she didn’t understand. To say she did would go too far. But she did have sympathy for the woman. Her son was at war, fated to a future that grew more uncertain every day. Most people only came across blades a few times in their lives and then only for moments or an evening at most. With the gift, so mysterious to those who didn’t possess it, the blades were the easy and obvious target. Shin had been right in that, at least.

  “I understand. If my presence would be a cause of discord between you two, I would leave.”

  “Nonsense. You hide your skill well, and I have no doubt she won’t discover you. She’s not the type to pry, at least not beyond her questioning. You look like you could use a rest, and I’m happy to have some help.”

  “I’m very grateful.” Asa bowed again. “Thank you very much.”

  “You’re welcome. My question is, will you allow me to continue watching you practice?”

  Asa nodded, a rare smile coming to her face at the thought of more nights of uninterrupted sleep.

  Chapter 6

  The candles were burning low, and if Mari had any wisdom, she’d already be preparing for bed. But she couldn’t dismiss the feeling that her brother was leading their house toward a cliff.

  Isamu’s army had been utterly destroyed by Katashi’s. Fortunately for the defeated lord, he hadn’t been captured or killed, but his claim to the throne was looking weaker than ever. Katashi’s forces had immediately wheeled around and marched toward Hiromi’s, but no battle had yet taken place. If Mari had anything to do with it, the battle never would take place.

  She pressed her hands against her eyes, trying to ease away the exhaustion. All day long she had read and reread through all the information at hand. One of her shadows, a serving woman in Katashi’s court, had provided her an insight into the young lord’s mind.

  Katashi hadn’t celebrated after his victory. Mari’s shadow had brought him wine, and he had refused it. She claimed he was studying maps with a frightening intensity. Mari would have paid her weight in gold to know exactly what those maps showed, but Katashi’s intent was clear enough.

  He was focused on destroying the military might of both Isamu and Hiromi.

  Mari sighed. Men always focused on their displays of strength, thinking power descended from might and that contests could only be decided on the battlefield. Unfortunately, Hiromi believed the same.

  Her brother, under the influence of his generals, was preparing his forces for battle. Mari wasn’t a general, but she had seen how well organized Katashi’s troops were. Those of her house were also disciplined, but she didn’t think they would win.

  But she had no authority to stop the fight. Hiromi was determined, his pride demanding that he attack and win the throne with one clean victory. His generals whispered in his ear, telling him that every day he delayed was another day he allowed his enemy to rest and prepare.

  And what did a woman know when it came to such matters, Mari thought bitterly. They had been at the same battle and seemed to have seen two entirely different conflicts. Even if Hiromi and his generals were right and they could win, what good would it do? Hundreds, if not thousands, of their men would die. And even if they won, for Hiromi to become king, Isamu and Katashi needed to acknowledge him.

  Mari searched for a way out, combing through her letters and correspondence from shadows scattered throughout the Kingdom. The lords were all thinking of their own lands and people. But no one was thinking about the health of the Kingdom anymore.

  Their last council meeting was in the morning, and Mari knew they would make the decision to go to war. She had asked repeatedly for Hiromi to come to her or to accept an audience, but all her missives had gone unanswered, and she herself had been turned away by his guards. He’d have no private conversations with her, and if she spoke out at the council, she risked losing what small influence she had.

  She pounded her forehead softly against the table, disorganizing her papers. No use in bemoaning her difficulties. She still had time. If Hiromi set them upon this path, turning around wouldn’t be an option. The houses would go to war, and the land would be devastated. She had to stop her brother.

  Mari felt a gentle touch on her shoulder. She started awake, her head immediately pounding from the quick movement. She opened her eyes and quickly shut them, cursing herself for falling asleep at her writing table again.

  She peered at Takahiro, the head of her personal guard and a close friend to her and the entire family. Takahiro had seen a few more cycles than Juro and was one of the best swords in their entire house. He had been the head of Mari’s guard for at least ten cycles and was the closest person in the world to her now that Juro had rejoined the Great Cycle.

  “Sorry to wake you, but the council is going to start shortly.”

  Mari didn’t rush. Takahiro was the type of man who knew how much time she needed to get prepared and would have given her just enough.

  She almost didn’t move at all. No solution had come to her last night. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know how to proceed. They were going to war.

  But she couldn’t let that stop her. She would try, and if she failed she would try again. Hiromi would listen to her, even if it meant her giving up what little power she still had left.

  Takahiro noticed her hesitation. “What troubles you?”

  “Hiromi will destroy this house if he goes to war. But no one seems to believe that.”

  Desperate, Mari turned to Takahiro. “Do you believe me?”

  Takahiro wouldn’t lie to her, and he thought his answer through carefully. “I am not privy to the discussions of the commanders, so this is an incomplete answer. However, my understanding is that one of the reasons peace has always been maintained is because the houses have close to the same strength. In that case, decisive victory is challenging, if not impossible.”

  “So how would you stop disaster from happening?”

  Takahiro frowned. “I do not know. My role in life has always been to take orders. I do not know how to manipulate the opinions of others.”

  Disappointed but undeterred, Mari dismissed Takahiro as she prepared for the day. She didn’t know what she would do, but perhaps an opportunity would present itself. She would be ready.

  The council hadn’t yet started when Mari arrived, which she was grateful for. She knelt on the floor in the corner, waiting for the rest of the generals to arrive.

  When the council began, talk started immediately on the preparations for war. Mari was taken aback. She didn’t realize how far the discussion had already come. Everyone in the room spoke as though the decision to fight had already been made. All that was left was to create and execute their best plan.

  Mari needed to speak to Hiromi alone. She cleared her throat and attempted the same stunt that had worked before, but a stern glance from her younger brother made it obvious such behavior wouldn’t be tolerated. Mari felt as though she was trapped in an invisible cage that was slowly shrinking.

  The understanding, when it came to her, was crushing. Her cage was very real, and it was being filled with sand, suffocating her and rendering her helpless. She couldn’t do anything. Nothing would make a difference. She fought the urge to cry, curse, and scream.

  She knew the action was unwise, but she couldn’t allow the conversation to continue without her voice. “My lord.”

  At the sound of Mari’s voice, every eye in the room turned on her, not a friendly one among them. She knew how they saw her—a woman who had been given too much voice by her older brother. Her presence was an annoyance at
best and a threat at worst. The hardest eyes in the room were Hiromi’s. Mari had used up whatever influence she had over him. Tears threatened to stream down her face when she realized she had been foolish to believe she held any power over these men. Still, she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

  “I understand it isn’t my place to speak, but you are all being fools. There is no chance that we win the throne by force. Any victory would destroy us as certainly as our opponents. Pride and honor need to be balanced by our duty to our people. Stop this madness and find another way! For our people, please!”

  Mari had much more to say, but her brother had motioned for the guards. She played her last card, certain it wouldn’t work but determined anyway.

  “Hiromi, you know this is wrong! You have to know there is no way to win once you bring our house into this war. You know Juro would have agreed with me.”

  Hiromi’s eyes hardened against her even more, turning from rock to steel in an instant. “Juro is dead. My dear sister, your presence is no longer required at the council. Thank you for your service.”

  Mari almost fought against the guards, but if nothing else, she could hold on to her dignity.

  The door slammed on Mari’s face, and once she was out of sight of the generals, she allowed her tears the freedom they desired. All she could think about was her people and the suffering they were about to endure because their lord wanted to be king.

  Mari wiped her tears and swore at the door. She would find a way to save her people.

  Mari focused on her breath and pulled the bowstring back toward her face, her hand resting comfortably underneath her ear. She focused on her breath and the position of her body, her mind empty of any distraction except for her arrow. Her release was smooth, the shaft digging into the heart of the target.

  Takahiro laughed. “I don’t know why you insist on bringing me out every moon to repeat this game. We both know you’re a far better archer, and I’m not getting any better.”

  Mari stepped away from the line, satisfied with her shot. She had been aiming a little higher, but her shot had been true. In battle, her arrow would have killed the enemy, and that was all that mattered.

  “Take the shot. Maybe you’ll get lucky.”

  Takahiro drew the bow, and Mari automatically critiqued his form in her head. His body was too tense, lacking stability, and she could see the tip of his arrow moving back and forth as her guard aimed. His release was good enough, but the shot was low, digging into the target several hands below Mari’s.

  As a soldier, Takahiro had been trained in both sword and bow, but his skill with steel far surpassed his proficiency with a bow. “It seems I’ve been proven right once again.”

  The tone of his voice indicated resignation, but Mari knew he enjoyed these outings as much as she did. He practiced every day with his sword, and Mari practiced as often as she could with a bow. He had as much of a chance beating her in an archery competition as she did beating him in a sword fight.

  Growing up, Mari always wanted to train with Juro and Hiromi. Their father would have none of it. Swords were for men, and no daughter of his would train in such a way. However, he did relent when the subject was archery, and Mari had thrown herself into the practice. She rapidly outpaced the boys, becoming the best archer in the family. The feat had always been a point of pride for her, even if her brothers refused to acknowledge it.

  As Mari had grown into a young woman, Juro had her trained in the art of knife fighting. His rationale had been simple and direct, much like he had been. The world was a dangerous place, especially for women. Guards wouldn’t always be enough. The knife could kill an opponent or even oneself if the situation was dire enough. Mari had taken to that training with equal eagerness.

  Between the knife and the bow, Mari had grown confident in her own physical skills. She recognized her limitations but also knew she was far more dangerous than most women. Opponents would underestimate her, and on some days she longed to use that to her advantage.

  She had hoped an outing with Takahiro would clear her mind, but at best it distracted her for a time. The decision had been made to attack Katashi. Even as Mari and the head of her guards enjoyed a lazy afternoon of archery, their men were gathering and preparing for the assault. If she let herself think about the situation too much, she was liable to make herself mad.

  An idea had been forming in the back of her mind, which was the real reason she had invited Takahiro out. He always advised her honestly, a gift far too rare in their house.

  Mari debated all afternoon whether to bring up her idea. But if nothing was risked, nothing was gained, and their time was coming to a close.

  “Takahiro, I would like your guidance.”

  Her guard looked up from unstringing his bow, his face giving nothing away.

  “I have been considering traveling to Starfall.”

  Takahiro didn’t react, testament both to his skill at cards and his long service with her. He continued packing his bow as if nothing had happened.

  Mari wanted to say more, but she wanted his initial reaction as well. He didn’t make her wait long.

  “Such a decision certainly seems unwise.”

  The statement was made without much emotion, and she gave him credit. Right now, going to Starfall was more than unwise. It was foolish, at best. Mari was grasping at whatever chances were open to her.

  “What makes you believe such a trip is worth the risk?”

  Mari chose her words with care. If she couldn’t convince Takahiro, a man who had gladly served her for cycles, her idea truly was foolish.

  “If there is any hope for peace now that my brother has decided to march to war, it must rest with the blades. The public sentiment may be against them, but we cannot ignore their power. Every path to peace I’ve imagined involves them, whether it be an alliance with a single house or a moderating influence on all three.”

  Takahiro’s face dropped, and Mari wondered what saddened him.

  “My lady, you’ve always understood the actions of the houses much better than I. But if I may say, you don’t understand your subjects as well as I do. The public sentiment isn’t just against the blades. They hate the blades. People have always feared and respected the power they possess, but the brilliance of Lord Shin was to push that fear one step further into anger. He started a fire that will burn long after the ruins of Haven have stopped smoldering.”

  Mari was ashamed to admit this was news to her. “Are you certain?”

  His voice was firm. “Mari, they’ve burned dayblades alive. Dayblades who were in their villages to heal. They’ve rejected soldiers wearing swords simply because they suspected the soldier might be a nightblade. The blades have been blamed for everything from famines to mysterious illnesses. The stories almost defy belief, but I’ve heard them firsthand from the soldiers returning from patrols. If you have any plan that hinges on the blades, I would urge you to reconsider.”

  “But what if they are absolutely necessary?”

  Takahiro shook his head. “Then I fear we are doomed.”

  Furious, Mari stomped back toward her bow, picking it up and restringing it. In a single motion, she nocked an arrow, brought the bow up and the string back, and released the arrow into the heart of her target.

  “Takahiro, I don’t see any other choice. None of the houses has a clear dominance over the others. Katashi has won an early victory, but he doesn’t have the troops or resources to conquer and hold the entire Kingdom.”

  Her guard agreed. “Winter is also setting in. I imagine he is hoping both Isamu and Hiromi will capitulate if he defeats your brother. But even if he wins against us, he can’t launch a large-scale campaign. He’ll need to prepare for a spring offensive, but by then we’ll be dug in. We would be looking at a prolonged war.”

  Nothing worried Mari more. “We need the blades, Takahiro. Even hated, their strength will be necessary to bring this conflict to an end.”

  She watched the battle of thought
s cross his face as clear as day. He didn’t want to enlist the aid of the blades, but he had seen enough battlefields to know the disaster a prolonged war would bring. The question was, which was the lesser of two evils for him? Mari was certain of her answer, but in her mind, Takahiro represented the people. If he chose the certain destruction of war, all her planning would be for nothing.

  He made his decision and met her gaze. “So how are we going to sneak out of here in the middle of battle preparations in order to get to Starfall?”

  Chapter 7

  Koji’s sword sliced through the thick air of the barn behind the farmhouse. Even though the autumn weather insisted on remaining chillier than usual, Koji was shirtless in the stench of the barn. Between the sweat of his own frustrated practice and the heat given off by the animals, he was plenty warm.

  Koji cut and cut again, feet, arms, and sword all extensions of his heart. He had long ago finished his forms and was now fighting wave after wave of imaginary foes. His hands were slick on the hilt of his steel, but he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop until he was exhausted.

  The barn was one of the greatest gifts the farmhouse had to offer. Traveling incognito meant not practicing in the early morning hours, and Koji always felt wrong when he missed his practice, as though the day that followed wasn’t quite real to him. His forms grounded him, kept him attached to the present moment.

  He made an angry cut, imagining Ryo’s little grin as though the other blade was always laughing at a joke no one else understood. In his mind his following cuts sliced through Hiroki, the large man astonished at his own mortality.

  Koji wanted to speed up his practice, to move faster, near the edges of his limits. He didn’t dare, though. Ryo and Hiroki had become foes in his mind. Whether he was sure that fact was true or not, he didn’t want to risk displaying his full strength. Better to be underestimated.