Outlaw:Champions of Kamigawa mg-1

by Scott McGough

  "He has seen signs, portents. Tell them, Toshi."

  "Tell who?"

  Hidetsugu snarled and beckoned. Two identical warriors stepped into the light from each side of the furnace. Both men were exactly the same in almost every respect, size, shape, demeanor, and they moved in unison with the precision of one man and his reflection. They wore thin, dagger-like mustaches and chin whiskers and they were dressed in polished bandit armor, which Toshi had always considered incongruous. The heavy plating on their shoulders and hips rang like coins as they walked, and they kept their hands on the long, curved swords on their hips.

  Toshi quickly noted that the twins wore their hair bandit-style under their loose horned helmets, braided and looped around one shoulder. The bandit on the left wore his braid around his right shoulder, the other around his left. Toshi thought they looked like barbarian bookends, but he kept this opinion to himself.

  "These men represent Godo," Hidetsugu said. "And behind you is Ben-Ben, from Ichi's akki tribe. Tell them your story."

  Toshi did not turn around, but he heard the crab-like scuttling of an akki goblin on the move. "What about you?" he said.

  "I will also be listening."

  Toshi shrugged. "I ran into some soratami in the ruins outside Konda's stronghold. They were working with a pack of nezumi. Later, they traced me back to my home, but I escaped. I saw portents that said this is not over."

  "And he was attacked by kami."

  Toshi started, but maintained his composure. "Hidetsugu is correct, though I don't know how."

  The ogre grinned again and growled happily. He urged Toshi to continue with a wave of his hand.

  "But yes, I was twice beset by angry spirits." Toshi shrugged again. "I think something big is going on, and it won't end without bad business for everyone. My problems with the soratami are tangential, but I believe all this is connected."

  "Toshi is a kanji magician," Hidetsugu said. He pulled the metal rod out of the furnace and inspected the glowing end. "He and I are bound by this mark." The ogre showed them the hot end of the rod, which was bent into a triangle with the hyozan kanji beneath.

  Toshi recognized the rod for what it was, a branding iron. He saw that the twins did, as well.

  "What is that for?" one said.

  "And what does any of this have to do with our arrangement?" said the other. "I thought we were all agreed."

  "Kobo!" Hidetsugu put the branding iron back into the fire. "Bring the bucket."

  From the top of the incline, Toshi saw the big bald youth's silhouette descend.

  The akki behind him grumbled. "Too many humans," he said. "Hidetsugu promised, only two of Godo's men." Ben-Ben sniffed. "Left my refuge for this."

  In the firelight, Toshi looked at the mountain goblin and laughed. Ben-Ben was a ridiculous figure, squat and armored like an armadillo with a long, sharp nose and a crusty, rocky carapace across his back and shoulders. He was no taller than a nezumi, but his arms were disproportionately large and powerful, his huge hands capped by long, pointed claws. He wore a small leather drum around his neck and thick-soled wooden clogs on his feet. For no reason that Toshi would ever understand, Ben-Ben wore a limp, soggy thing with multiple arms or tentacles on his head, and he carried it with all the gravity and pomp of an official's hat.

  "I don't get this either, Hidetsugu. I came here for information, and maybe a place to hide out for a few days. I don't know or care what you've got brewing between Godo and the goblins."

  Both twins narrowed their eyes. "Keep it that way, ochimusha."

  Toshi smiled. "You say that like it's an insult. If you weren't offal-eating sanzoku dogs, I might take offense."

  The twins each drew a sword, but froze when Hidetsugu growled.

  "I have also seen portents," the ogre shaman said. "And as rude as Toshi is, you must know this: His success is Godo's. What you and the akki are planning will not work if Toshi dies here. This I have seen."

  Kobo the apprentice lumbered into the light and dropped a wooden bucket heavily onto the stone floor. Opaque white liquid sloshed over the sides, and the bald youth quietly went to stand behind Hidetsugu.

  "Besides," Hidetsugu said, "Toshi is my oath-brother and also my guest. If you harm him, I am obliged to respond." He reached his entire arm into the fire, singing the hair off his flesh and raising a ghastly stink. Without the slightest sign of discomfort, Hidetsugu drew the glowing branding iron out of the furnace and inspected the tip. He blew on it like a choice morsel, and the tip glowed brighter.

  "We were given assurances," the twins hissed.

  "Promised no pain," Ben-Ben echoed.

  "My bond with Toshi goes back further than any promises made to Godo and Ichi. Barely a week ago, you came seeking my help. I have given it. You came seeking my counsel. I now offer it: go forward as we have planned. But remember this man and this mark." He waved the branding iron. "Events will churn and bubble around him and his hyozan symbol."

  Without another word, Hidetsugu suddenly shoved the red-hot brand into the bald monk's breast. Kobo screamed as his skin burned and his blood sizzled, but he held his ground. With fists clenched and eyes streaming, the apprentice stood firm under the ogre's onslaught. Hidetsugu leaned down on the branding iron, forcing Kobo back and plowing up a small heap of dust and pebbles behind the apprentice's heels.

  With a sickening wrench, Hidetsugu withdrew and yanked the hot iron from his student's flesh. Kobo staggered, but did not fall. Slowly, he straightened back to his full height and folded his arms across his chest, his wrist just below the smoking wound. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were wet, but his face was a rigid mask of indifference.

  Hidetsugu then plunged the smoking brand into the bucket, raising a small cloud of steam.

  "Get out," the ogre said to the twin bandits. He turned to the akki and jerked his head toward the incline. "You, too. You asked for my blessing and my advice. I have given both. Go."

  "Thank you, Hidetsugu o-bakemono." To their credit, the bandits did not let their fear show, but Toshi could tell they were rattled. As they moved to the exit, they had none of the synchronized precision that had characterized their movements before. They were simply two men in a hurry, going in the same direction.

  If Toshi was reading the akki's facial expression correctly, Ben-Ben was more transparently awed but also less frightened. Maybe not all goblins lived in a constant state of confusion, but this one certainly did. He tipped his soggy fish hat and made his unsteady way toward the incline, avoiding the patches of light as best he could.

  When he was alone with Hidetsugu and Kobo, Toshi snapped, "What in the rocky gray hell was that all about? There is no way I'm getting involved with their turf war. They'll never see me again if I can help it."

  Hidetsugu tossed the brand aside and hooked the bucket with his smallest finger. He extended his massive arm to Toshi and waved the steaming container under the ochimusha's nose.

  "Drink," he said.

  "Drop dead." He glared suspiciously into the milky-white liquid. Blackened flesh floated on its surface. "I'm not swigging from a bucket of apprentice stew."

  The bucket did not waver. "Drink," Hidetsugu repeated.

  The ogre mage didn't have to threaten. His entire being, from his posture to his glaring expression, spoke volumes about what was in store if Toshi refused again.

  Toshi swore, inhaled, and took the bucket. He held his breath, raised the bucket to his lips, and took a long, slow draught.

  His throat bobbed as he swallowed, once, twice, and then Toshi dropped the bucket and staggered back.

  "Gyah," he said. He spit into the brazier and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "What have you been feeding him, Hidetsugu, yak dung? He's gamier than a nezumi pig farm."

  Hidetsugu ignored Toshi and spoke to his apprentice.

  "Light the brazier on the south wall." As the bald youth disappeared into the darkness, Toshi could see the angry wound on his breast still smoking.

  Hidetsugu
turned to face him. "You saw symbols, ochimusha, portents," he said. "Come and see what I have seen."

  Toshi spat out another fragment of Kobo and followed the ogre. From the sound of the echoes, they were approaching the wall of Hidetsugu's cavern. The o-bakemono's footsteps stopped and Toshi stepped around him so that they were side by side.

  "You've gone soft out here, Hidetsugu," he said. "Even if things are bad, I never thought I'd see you socializing with-"

  Toshi fell silent as the brazier before them lit up. The flames revealed a surprisingly elegant mosaic on the wall, composed of tiny chips of polished red and black rock. The figure in the mosaic was a nightmarish combination of teeth and jaws, topped by three malevolent eyes arranged in a triangle. The figure was surrounded by a cloud of bat-winged scavengers.

  Above the figure were kanji that spelled out a title: The Ail-Consuming Oni of Chaos. Toshi was not sure if the kanji were the mosaic's title, or the creature's.

  Below the mosaic, nailed into the rock of the cavern wall, was the motionless form of a ponderous kami. It was wet and heavy, like a deep-sea fish out of water. It was even shaped like a fish, with a thick upper body that narrowed and then expanded again in to a wide, flat tail. It had rounded, club-like appendages jutting from under its misshapen head, and a crooked vertical mouth lined with rows of triangular teeth all the way down its throat. Small, sharp, shells shaped like crescent moons floated listlessly around it. When one of these shells touched the iron spikes that pinned the kami to the wall, they cracked and fell to the cold stone floor.

  "It came here looking for you," Hidetsugu said. "It called your name as it manifested. I had to put it aside quickly, but now that the meeting is over and you're here, you can tell me."

  Toshi stared dumbfounded at the pinned spirit beast. In his experience, kami were either alive and mobile or dead and broken, but they were never helpless captives. The thought of what it must have taken to pin this great beast to the wall and keep it quiescent without killing it made Toshi shudder.

  "Your problems are mine, oath-brother," Hidetsugu said. His rumbling voice made Toshi's spine vibrate. "So I must know."

  He grabbed Toshi around the waist and lifted him to eye level, where his foul breath blew the ochimusha's hair around like a summer squall.

  CHAPTER 4

  "What have you done, Toshi," he husked, "to bring the wrath of the spirit world upon us?"

  The rational side of Toshi's mind told him he had nothing to fear. Hidetsugu was capable of crushing him to death on a whim, but the ogre would not without great risk to himself. The oath that bound them was both a blessing and a curse-if they turned on each other, the effects would be unpredictable and disastrous. Toshi tried to think in Hidetsugu's iron grip, struggling to come up with an out that would appeal to the o-bakemono. Reason could sway an ogre sage, provided he were calm enough to listen to it.

  Toshi failed to develop a convincing argument, however, because he was unable to focus on anything but Hidetsugu's awful teeth and the powerful jaw that housed them. The heat, the stench that rolled off of the o-bakemono eclipsed every other sensation. In the end, it was not Toshi's mind, but his body that determined his response.

  "Can't," he rasped, "breathe."

  "Whisper, then." Hidetsugu shook him gently in the air, and Toshi felt his ribs creak.

  "Don't know," Toshi flared. He winced, pushing vainly against the thick fingers around his waist. Then he gulped another breath of air. "Moonfolk chased me." He grimaced. "Saw portents. Came here."

  Hidetsugu rotated his wrist so that Toshi was parallel to the floor. "You didn't rob a soratami shrine? Or kill a moonfolk priest?"

  "No," Toshi wheezed. His eyes narrowed and he squeezed more air into his lungs. "Put me down… oath-brother. You know I… keep clear of the kami and their stooges. I'll tell you… everything I know. I… came for help. Remember?"

  Hidetsugu turned Toshi around so that they were eye to eye. He looked deep into the ochimusha's face. Toshi felt his lips swelling, and it seemed that both his eyes and eardrums were bulging out of his skull.

  "Put me down," he said. "Or kill me." With as much dignity as he could muster, the red-faced rogue crossed his arms and stared angrily up at Hidetsugu.

  "You're hiding something," the ogre said. "But then, I expect no less from you."

  Hidetsugu opened his fist and Toshi fell heavily onto his knees. With his arms wrapped around his bent rib cage, Toshi coughed and tried to regain his breath.

  The ogre waited patiently while Toshi sucked air. When the ochimusha made it up to one knee, Hidetsugu said, "You really don't know, do you?"

  Toshi ran an exploring hand over his rib cage one last time. "Know what?"

  "That the kami attacks are growing worse, more frequent and more dangerous than ever. They go places they should not go, places they should not be able to go." He pointed to the marine-looking kami on the wall. "Does that look like a mountain spirit to you?"

  Toshi sniffed. "At the moment, it looks like a sack of something that's been pounded by your hammer out there. But to your question about the kami attacks: yes, they're getting worse. They have been for months now. Everyone knows that."

  "You're aware of it," Hidetsugu said, "but you do not 'know' anything about it."

  Standing up to his full height, Toshi stretched his arms out and inhaled until the pain made him stop. "Educate me, then."

  Hidetsugu turned away. "I already have a student. And if I didn't, I wouldn't choose you." The ogre pointed a thick, clawed finger at the impaled kami. "That came here looking for you, right after you saw symbols that drove you here. Either you've being set up, or you're bluffing me into thinking you've being set up."

  Toshi's eyes narrowed. "Well, then," he spat through clenched teeth, "That doesn't really matter, does it? You're obliged to back me up."

  "And I shall. But you are being pursued by kami as well as soratami. You need a special kind of assistance, one that I cannot provide myself."

  "Since when is battling kami beyond your abilities?" Toshi started to laugh, he still lacked the lung capacity. He coughed, then said, "Pursued by a kami. The others from the swamp were just a few more mindless spirit beasts lashing out at the real world."

  Hidetsugu chuckled. "How can you wield such powerful magic with such a dismal understanding of its source? Nothing is coincidental when it comes to kami. There are no 'mindless spirit beasts.' Everything has a purpose, and its spirit exists to fulfill that purpose."

  Toshi shrugged. "I accept that." He pointed at the marine kami. "So what is that thing's purpose?"

  Hidetsugu's smile revealed a row of sharp teeth. "Right now, to be an appetizer for my oni."

  "You know what I mean. Why did he come here? If it was sent by the same spirits that sent me those portents, what do they want? Did you ask the big fish before you put it on the wall?"

  Hidetsugu growled in annoyance. "It doesn't speak now. Or perhaps it cannot. It hasn't said anything to me since I pinned it down."

  Toshi eyed the motionless kami. "I don't think it's likely to any time soon… or ever again. Here's a better idea. Why don't you ask your oni?"

  Hidetsugu's eyes flashed. "Careful, oath-brother. Do not say his name. He is less friendly than I am-and bound by no oaths."

  "Well, that's why you should ask him. He knows you, right? He's a spirit, we need information from the spirit world. It's very simple."

  Hidetsugu narrowed one eye and his nostrils flared. "Oni and kami are as different as the sea is from the land. Together, they form the shore. Individually, they could not be more distinct." "And that's that? You pray to oni and I don't pray, so we're just out of luck? There must be some ritual you can perform. You're an o-bakemono. You're supposed to be well-informed."

  Hidetsugu raised his upper lip. "There are rituals I know. But instead, perhaps you could anoint your jitte with your own blood and inscribe the kanji for 'enlightenment' across your forehead. Then we'd know."

  Toshi shook his he
ad and said, "Feh. I'd rather have answers. Enlightenment breeds indolence. Even if the kanji didn't fry my brain, it'd make me all tranquil and contemplative."

  "So we are back to not knowing."

  "And no way of knowing."

  "Not true," the ogre said. He clapped his hands together. The sharp report echoed across the cavern. "Kobo!"

  Toshi stepped back as the huge bald youth lumbered forward. The smell of burning flesh was rank and powerful around the ogre's apprentice, and Toshi could see the seared and smoking mark of the fresh brand. Kobo's arm hung stiffly below the blackened mark, and he flexed his fist repeatedly as if trying to reestablish feeling or function. Other than that, a slight twinge when he spoke, and a few drops of sweat on his broad skull, the huge youth showed no outward signs that the ghastly wound was troubling him in the slightest.

  Let's see how tough he is when the flies start laying eggs in him, Toshi thought. Then, aloud, he said, "If you're going to read his entrails, give me chance to get clear of the spatter."

  "Silence, fool. Kobo is the finest apprentice I've had in decades. I would never waste him on simple augury." As the burly youth approached, Hidetsugu said, "Toshi, what do you know about the budoka fighting monks of Jukai?"

  "Nothing. They're in the forest, after all. I never go there."

  Hidetsugu waved Kobo closer, into the light from the brazier. "Kobo is originally from Jukai, where the kannushi priests dwell. They are holy men, especially devout in their spirit-worship. They dedicate their lives to honoring the Myojin of Life's Web."

  Toshi nodded. "Morons."

  Hidetsugu growled. "Some of these priests train the budoka warrior monks, acolytes who practice and perfect the brotherhood's ancient fighting techniques. Kobo is from a long line of budoka, but he sought to be more than his masters, more than his ancestors. He sought to become yamabushi, a slayer of kami. But yamabushi are of the mountains, not the forest, and so he came to the badlands looking for someone to train him.

  "Those few yamabushi masters he found would not deign to mentor to a forest monk. Neither would the kannushi in the forest allow his return. They knew of his potential and turned him away. Eventually, he came to me.