by Stan Brown
Yakamo nearly lost his footing with every step. The rocky landscape was covered with loose stones and sand.
To his left the Crab leader heard sounds of steel on steel. At least one of his samurai had found the enemy.
Behind him he heard another battle. This one ended quickly with a swift slicing noise and a muffled cry. But whose cry?
Yakamo returned his attention to his quarry, but the Dragon's silhouette was gone.
Damn!
He slowed his pace and walked cautiously forward. Maybe the Dragon had fallen off a ledge or stumbled on the uncertain terrain. It wouldn't do for Yakamo to follow him in such a fate. The Crab took another few steps and stopped to listen again.
No sound came at all.
His foe had escaped or was lying unconscious somewhere just ahead.
Or, Yakamo thought just in time, he is lying in ambush.
From out of the fog to his left the Dragon commander stepped forward, katana raised for a lethal blow. Yakamo could not possibly raise his tetsubo quickly enough. He braced himself for the strike, hoping his armor would deflect enough of it so that he would be able to fight back.
Without thinking, Yakamo raised his left hand and looked away.
There was a solid clang as the blade crashed against the black claw strapped to Yakamo's arm. What's more, the young Crab felt—actually felt— the blow land. There was no pain, just a feeling of solid strength.
With a grunt of triumph, he pushed against the Dragon's sword, sending the man a few steps backward. Yakamo whirled his tetsubo into an offensive position.
He flipped the giant club forward and back, making passing attacks at the Dragon's head. He never pulled the weapon back into a defensive posture. Every time his opponent tried a counter-strike, Yakamo's left hand (for such was how he immediately began to think of the claw) reached out and stopped it.
The look on the Dragon samurai's face went from rage to perplexity and finally to panic.
"What is that thing?" he asked in a desperate voice. "What are you?"
Yakamo swung his tetsubo in an arc at about chest height, knocking the katana from the Dragon's hand. He then stepped forward and placed his left hand around the man's throat.
"I am Hida Yakamo," he said tersely. With a single, easy motion of his left arm he lifted the Dragon off the ground, gripping his neck tighter. "And I am your death."
A warm breeze swirled the fog around them so that Yakamo could barely make out his foe's form at arm's length. But he could feel the man's soft skin give way beneath the metal of his hand. He could feel the warm blood trickle down his arm as the Dragon squirmed in his grip.
With a single snap the man's neck broke, and Yakamo let him fall to the ground.
The warm breeze blew across his face again, and he could feel the first of the sun's rays. The fog began to thin. Within a few minutes he could again see the glade around him and even more.
Over a mutilated foe stood Amoro, slowly coming back to his senses. Seven other Crab samurai stood over fallen enemies at various points across the landscape. Three Crab lay dead, defeated by opponents who had disappeared into the fog, presumably on their way to raise the alarm at Kyuden Kakita.
Yakamo grunted and called back to the column of samurai who were now visible less than five hundred yards away.
"What are you waiting for? Let's move! Let's kill the messengers, then kill the Crane!"
RUMORS OF TOTURI
Steam rose from still-warm blood as it ran across the rocks of Beiden Pass. The day had turned crisp and cold, but the fighting was hot. Wispy clouds flew quickly across the deep blue sky overhead—the wind above the rock walls blew at a frightful speed. Down in the pass, though, the air was still as death.
Yakamo struck a Dragon samurai to his right. His tetsubo caught the man under the chin, lifting him clear off his feet with the sound of shattering bone. No other opponents presented themselves immediately, so he took the opportunity to glance around. His samurai fought with wild abandon. Heedless of their own safety, they launched themselves against groups of Dragons two and three times more numerous than their own battle units.
This was the Crab army he knew.
"Yakamo!" a tortured voice howled above the din of battle. "I know you are here! Show yourself, son of Kisada!"
He knew the voice. It filled him with lust and desire— bloodlust and the desire to silence the speaker forever.
Yakamo waded through the fighting, shoving past enemy and ally alike. He kicked a goblin out of his way and shouldered past a Crab samurai, nearly impaling the man on his enemy's weapon. Confronted by a mounted Dragon, Yakamo grabbed the reins just below the bit and pulled down as hard as he could. At the same time he clubbed the samurai-ko with his claw, knocking her from the saddle. She landed in an awkward position, and he could easily have finished her off if not for the fact that he'd already moved on—searching desperately for the source of the voice.
Finally, he pushed through a battle between an ogre and five Dragon samurai to see a small but powerful female figure standing over the form of a fallen Crab. She put her foot on the corpse and pulled her katana free.
"Mirumoto Hitomi!"
She looked up and smiled evilly.
"So you heard my call?" she said. "I knew you were here, but I wondered if you were brave enough to face me."
Yakamo laughed.
"I have been looking for you, littie Dragon," he said. "This time your Dragon clan mates won't be able to save you. You will pay for what you did to me."
"A one-handed samurai is like a toothless bear," she mocked. "Your roar is great, but you are a trifle."
"Oh, but I have a second hand," he said, raising his claw for her to see. "A better one in fact. Come closer and I will show you how it works."
The claw opened and quickly snapped shut three times in succession. The sound it made was mostly metallic, but it echoed with the sound of bones being ground to dust.
"It quite becomes you," Hitomi said. "What a shame I will have to remove it as well. But do not worry. This time you won't live long enough to fret about finding a replacement."
Yakamo laughed. "You are more than welcome to try. But you'll find I've grown quite attached to this hand—and it to me."
The Crab struck at Hitomi, but not with his tetsubo. Yakamo launched an offhanded attack using only the claw. Swinging his arm in large figure-eights aimed at the samurai-ko's head, he slid closer.
Hitomi chuckled at the absurdity and swung her blade in a path to sever the claw at the leather strap—just where she'd taken the Crab's original hand. Her blade clanged off as if it had struck solid rock.
"How is this possible?" she cried. "This is the ancestral blade of the Dragon! It has never failed to cut through anything."
"Well, by all means," Yakamo said switching attacks and swinging his tetsubo at Hitomi's head, "try again. I wouldn't want to ruin the reputation of the mighty Dragon's ancestral weapon with my simple arm."
Hitomi struck. Again the blade bounced off the leather as though it was made of stone.
Yakamo swung his claw in a backhanded arc that caught Hitomi across the face. She went flying but landed on her feet ready to return the favor.
The Dragon raised her sword and charged at her Crab foe, shouting a wordless oath. Bloodlust filled her eyes. Fury rang in her voice. She swung a mighty blow designed to cut Yakamo from the tip of his right shoulder all the way down to his left hip.
He seemed to offer no defense, but at the last minute he raised his left arm. With a flick of his wrist, the claw deflected the blow and sent Hitomi lunging forward hopelessly off balance. Yakamo stepped in close to her body, moving in tandem with her—a deadly dance. He placed his right hand on her elbow and twisted, throwing her off her feet. He landed atop her, pinning her. She lay there helpless, his faceplate rubbing against her jaw.
"And now, my young Dragon," he whispered, locking her eyes with his own. "We see that what goes around always, always comes around."
She spat on his faceplate but did not struggle. She knew she could not break his grip.
Hitomi did not scream. She did not make a sound as Yakamo slowly closed the claw, crushing every bone in the samurai-ko's hand. She held his eyes the entire time and even narrowed her gaze as he finished the job with a distinctly self-satisfying snap.
The heavy, wet sound of her severed hand landing on the stone was accented by two distinctly metallic clanks. She looked down.
Finally Hitomi did scream.
Yakamo had not just maimed her—he also snapped the blade of the Dragon's ancestral sword in half. The sword that represented the honor and pride of one hundred generations of Mirumoto lay broken beside her.
Yakamo threw his head back and laughed. It was a cruel, cold sound—one his father and brother would not recognize. Throughout the pass, the samurai who heard it assumed that one of the Shadowlands creatures was howling like the soulless animal it was.
Yakamo looked down at the helpless Hitomi.
"Now, I will spare you the torture you inflicted on me," he said, his voice filled with hate. Sitting up, Yakamo stretched his right arm behind his head, aiming his tetsubo at the samurai-ko's ear. He would end her life—end this rivalry—here and now. The Crab visualized his tetsubo impacting behind her ear and crushing her head beyond all recognition.
He smiled.
Just as Yakamo began his strike, another wave of enemy samurai crashed against the Crab forces. A hulking Dragon wielding a no-dachi threw his shoulder into Yakamo's chest and knocked him ten paces back.
Enraged, Yakamo swung his tetsubo with his good right arm, which was filled with power unlike any he'd known before. The Dragon samurai had a comical look of surprise on his face as the iron-spiked club crushed his skull with a sickening sound.
Yakamo stepped forward to finish Hitomi, but she was gone—probably spirited off by her samurai.
"Hitomi!" Yakamo screamed. But there was no answer.
Blind with rage, Yakamo stood reeling for a moment. If Hitomi was gone, he would take out his anger on Kyuden kakita. Lifting his hand high, he summoned his troops to him. "Break through! On to Kyuden Kakita!"
xxxxxxxx
"Be sure to lay in enough arrows, and have each samurai carry two extra bows." Sukune stood in a notch at the top of a ridge overlooking the north end of Beiden Pass.
Three days had passed since Yakamo left to lay siege to Kyuden Kakita. If everything went as planned, he would return in another week with tales of how easily the Crane were defeated— and with enough supplies to last the winter. If everything went poorly, he had already met major opposition on the road to the castle, and a force of Crane samurai were even now marching toward this position, intent on retaking the pass.
He looked down at the point where the wide plain funneled into the narrow slip of a road that led through the mountains. Only four or five foot soldiers could walk through the pass at a time, and no more than two samurai on horseback.
This spot in particular would be very useful. It provided archers with a broad view of an incoming force, but was situated so that the enemy would have a hard time firing back. The ledge fell away at odd angles below the perch, preventing attacks from the canyon floor. Other nearby ridges would not interfere with an archer's aim but afforded great protection from return fire.
"From this spot alone we could hold off an army!" said Hida O-Ushi.
"Yes, that's what the Crane thought, too," Sukune answered. "Unlike them, we must be sure to use this place to its best advantage."
Like Yakamo, Sukune chose a member of his army to serve as an advisor and confidant. His father had sent Kuni Yori to serve that purpose, but Sukune did not trust the shugenja. Whenever he could, Sukune left Yori out of his planning and brought his sister along instead.
Hida O-Ushi was the Great Bear's third child. In truth she was his second child, being three years older than Sukune, but the fact that she was a woman completely disqualified O-Ushi from running the clan—at least in Kisada's eyes. Sukune continually pointed out to his father that samurai-ko in other clans rose as high as their ambition and skill allowed—Mirumoto Hitomi was proof of that—but Kisada would not listen. He allowed his daughter to be raised as a warrior and taught her all the same lessons he did his sons, but when it came to the responsibilities of leading the clan, O-Ushi was completely shut out.
This did not seem to bother his sister terribly. She reveled in the thrill of the battle as much as, if not more than, Yakamo. Kisada's unusual child-rearing technique allowed her to act and speak in ways that most Rokugani women would never dream of. O-Ushi used that freedom to taste life through a progressively more intense series of visceral experiences. She fought, ate, drank, and even engaged in the pleasures of the flesh as though she might die at any moment, just like any other Crab samurai. Not surprisingly, though she had many lovers, O-Ushi never had a single proposal of marriage. Kisada could not shackle his only daughter with a marriage of convenience with some noble from another clan. She would probably kill any "proper" husband who tried to tame her.
As they walked back to the main camp, brother and sister discussed the strategies the army would use when the Crane arrived. The Crab forces were well trained at defending a location from invaders. That, in fact, was all they had done for a thousand years. But defending Beiden Pass was much different than holding the Carpenter's Wall. Their tremendous numbers were not as great an advantage here. Like the enemy, they could only move soldiers up a few at a time. On the Wall every samurai fought at the same time. Here they would have to lay in wait, or worse, stand in line before they could be part of the action.
As they neared the command tent, Sukune could see Kuni Yori waiting for him.
"Thank you, Sister," he said to O-Ushi. "I believe I must now deal with whatever worries the 'painted man'."
O-Ushi laughed raucously. She shared Sukune's distrust of Yori and often pointed out that the shugenja's habit of painting his face made him more like a geisha than a samurai. She continued to chuckle as she left to rejoin her troops.
Sukune approached Yori with a warm smile.
"What news today, my father's most trusted aide?"
"One of your scouts has returned, Sukune-san, with some most disturbing news," answered Yori. For once he seemed genuinely upset. "He says that the lands surrounding the pass are also being combed by another clan's scouts."
"The Crane?" asked Sukune."
"No," Yori replied. "They were not Crane—they were Dragon forces."
"Dragon?" Sukune exclaimed. "I thought Yakamo finished off (hat little band. What are more Dragon doing this far south?"
"According to the scout, they talked about being taken from their usual commander and placed under the control of the ronin Toturi."
"Toturi!" the young Hida gasped.
Since his banishment Toturi had been seen traveling throughout the empire. There were constant rumors that he was trying to raise an army for the purpose of taking the throne. Of course, there were also rumors that he was trying to raise an army for the purpose of defending the emperor. Either way, Toturi's presence near Beiden Pass posed a serious threat to the Crab plans. If anyone could outthink and outfight Kisada and his army, it was Toturi.
"Send word to my father," Sukune told Yori. "I'm certain you know how he may be reached." This was a point of some contention between the two since Sukune still knew nothing about Kisada's whereabouts or actions.
"Indeed I do," the shugenja said with a wry smile. "Do you really think Toturi is leading the Dragon army?"
"No," Sukune said firmly. He didn't feel nearly as confident as he sounded. "But it scarcely matters. All our plans hang on my brother's attack at Kyuden Kakita."
The Crane stronghold was much too far away to see, but the young commander looked to the north anyway. An autumn storm rolled over the mountains, and thunder rumbled in the distance.
THE FALL OF TH
E HOUSE OF KAKITA
If you laugh at me one more time, you misshapen little monster, treaty or no, I'll cut you in half!"
Tempers were wearing thin. The army was less than a day's march from Kyuden Kakita, but they had spent the last two days in the Kakita woods felling trees and building battering rams and simple siege engines. Only the humans, though, were doing this backbreak-ing work. The goblins and other creatures sat huddled in groups, as unsettled by greenery and wildlife as humans were by the lifeless wastes of the Shadowlands. Occasionally one or two of the braver goblins came over to mock and taunt the humans as they worked.
Crab samurai, who were leery about traveling with the Shadowlands forces to begin with, were nearly ready to forget their upcoming attack on Kyuden Kakita just for the satisfying familiarity of killing goblins, zombies, and other creatures of darkness.
"Oy!" Yakamo barked at Kuni Toshio, the man who just issued the threat. He spoke loudly to make it clear that this message was for all the Crab. "You will not raise hand or blade against our guests—no matter how bad their manners are."
The troops laughed. They'd never heard Yakamo call someone else rude.
A goblin sitting on a moss-covered log laughed, too. It then stuck a purple tongue out at Toshio and made a disgusting noise. Yakamo snapped his hand out, grabbed the tongue in a gloved fist, and pulled the creature closer.
"And you stop bothering my men," he said with an ocean of menace. "You're a long way from home, little goblin. And a lot of'accidents' can happen that do not break our treaty with your master." Yakamo smiled menacingly, the yellow-white of his teeth shining behind his helmet. Then he released the goblin's tongue and shoved the creature.
The goblin and its cronies crawled off the log, turned, and ran to rejoin their troops.
The assembled Crab laughed loudly at their retreating backs. None laughed louder than Yakamo.
"Tono," Toshio asked Yakamo, "why do those monstrosities lounge about like Crane courtiers while we do all this work? If they're our allies, why don't they share in the work?"