by Ryan Kirk
But Nameless didn’t attack. He kept his sword low, using the energy from his jump to strongly deflect one of her strikes. She struck hard to stay on the offensive, but he’d gained the smallest opening, and his sword snapped forward with power Moriko wasn’t prepared for. She tumbled backwards, rolling to her feet before he could take advantage of his strike.
They met again in the center of the circle, and again Nameless gained the upper hand. It wasn’t much, but every cut of his was just a little faster, each deflection a little stronger. It was barely enough to notice, but in a battle this close even the width of a hair could make all the difference.
They broke apart, and Moriko took the opportunity to study him. She was pleased to see he was cut, more than once. She was sure she was bleeding too, but she couldn’t feel it. The silence from the surrounding hunters was appreciative. He came again, faster than before. Moriko couldn’t believe his speed. How could a man so large move so fast? She had never faced anyone so quick and so strong.
Moriko gave up ground again, and no matter what techniques she tried, she couldn’t regain control of the battle. She pulled out her last trick. In between strikes she went inside of herself, focusing all her energy. It was hard to suppress her presence while in the middle of combat, but sometimes she could make it work.
It worked this time. Nameless, stripped of his ability to see where she was going to be, faltered and was driven back. Again, Moriko thought she could win. The point of her blade found his flesh before he could block. It wasn’t fatal, but it had to hurt. She moved like the night, invisible and deadly. She felt strong. There was no warning for what happened next.
Nameless exploded, his body and limbs a blur of speed. Moriko, invisible as she was to his sense, couldn’t move fast enough to defend herself. She blocked one cut after the other, barely getting his sword away from her body. Even with all her skills, it was everything she could do just to stay alive. She could sense his blows coming, but even with the sense, she wasn’t physically fast enough to block what was happening to her. She couldn’t believe it. The whole advantage of the sense was to know what your opponent would do before they acted. Nameless was just too fast.
Moriko’s defense could only last so long. Finally, she found herself out of position, and Nameless’ giant foot found her exposed stomach. Moriko tumbled backwards, rolling painfully back to her feet. She tried to stand up but doubled over in pain. She felt like her guts had been wrapped around her spine. Slowly, she struggled back up to standing. She had no hope of winning after a blow like that. Her body would never physically react quick enough.
Moriko’s eyes darted around, searching for some option, some escape. Nameless approached her, confident in his victory. Moriko didn’t see any escape, but she did see admiration in the eyes of the hunters. At least she’d made a show of her death. And she thought she’d been so close. She’d never expected he had such a reserve left. She considered her options. She could let him inside her guard, try to kill him after he’d gotten in his fatal blow. It was a technique Ryuu had taught her, the last technique he had learned from his master, Shigeru. Unfortunately, she didn’t think she’d be fast enough. With his speed, he’d have plenty of time to dodge or block.
She settled into her stance. If the outcome wasn’t in question, all that was left to do was all she could. With her ability to disguise her movements, attacking was the best defense. She darted forward with all the speed she had left. For a few passes it was even, but she couldn’t maintain her previous effort. Her attacks slowed, and finally she gave Nameless a moment of freedom. In that fraction of a moment, he switched onto the offensive, and Moriko was driven back, cut after cut appearing on her skin.
Anger swept over her. To have figured out so much of her powers, and to die at this man’s hands, was infuriating. She was as good as Ryuu, but it wasn’t good enough.
It was only a matter of time. She kept his blade mostly away from her, but she left herself open to his brutal fist, which sent her crashing down to the ground again. Before she could get up, his booted foot was in her stomach, kicking her up into the air and back into the ground. She dropped her sword as she slammed into the earth, choking on dust and blood.
He spoke loudly in Azarian. Moriko managed to open her eyes, just a squint through the pain, to see him pointing at her, gesticulating wildly. She cursed. There was some laughter as Nameless picked her up by her hair. Another solid punch sent her folded down onto the ground, every hint of air shoved violently out of her lungs.
Moriko reached out and grabbed her sword before his foot caught her again. She managed to hold on to it, but it was a meaningless victory. She didn’t have the speed or strength to use it. Moriko went deep inside herself as Nameless continued his beating. He had promised her a clean death, but it was forgotten in his passion to demonstrate the weakness of the Three Kingdoms.
Her mind flashed back to the monastery she had grown up in. There she had been whipped nearly to death. Her body would always bear the scars of that experience. This was worse. But inside herself, she tried to push away the pain. Her world was blackness and stars, and at the center was one small pinprick of light. The light that refused to give up, the light that burned wi
She couldn’t open her eyes, but her sense was alive and well. She was kicked around like a dog, finally falling near the edge of the circle. She could sense all eyes on her, the wind blowing through the tall grass, the horses about twenty paces away.
She stayed deep within, focusing on her desire to live. There couldn’t be any intention. Nothing that would give herself away. He came towards her. He was wary, but he couldn’t sense her. All his instincts, all his training, told him he was approaching a woman who might as well have been dead.
Inside, Moriko was focusing on her last piece of energy, the ember that wouldn’t die. She stoked it into a raging furnace, contained within the steel walls of her will.
Moriko sensed him step next to her and bring his foot back for the kick. In that moment, when his foot came back, and he was balanced precariously, she struck. She cut down with her sword from above her head. It was a fast strike that he just managed to dodge. Moriko had hoped to cut off a foot, but if she couldn’t, so be it. He was still off balance.
She twisted and lunged from her position on the ground, feeling her sword pierce the flesh of his stomach. Only then did she dare to open her eyes. It wasn’t necessarily a mortal wound, but it was deep. She pulled out her sword, twisting as she did.
What happened next happened fast. The hunters had been lax, sure of their leader’s victory. She broke out of the circle. It was only a matter of moments, but it gave her the lead on her captors. She ran to the horses, slicing through their ties with one stroke of her sword. She leapt on a horse, awkwardly got her feet into position, and kicked it into motion, yelling at the other horses as she did.
As she galloped away, she risked a small glance back. Confusion reigned behind her. Several of the hunters were kneeling next to Nameless, trying to make sure his wounds weren’t fatal. She hoped he would die, but couldn’t bring herself to believe it. He was too strong, and the blade hadn’t cut deeply enough for it to be fatal. She’d missed the vital organs.
Other hunters were working on gathering their horses. Moriko had succeeded in spooking them, but not much. They were being rounded up quickly and efficiently. She hadn’t bought herself much time, but they didn’t seem to be in too much of a hurry to come chasing after her. She thought for a moment that she might get away, but then she remembered that she had become a symbol to the hunters, an omen for their invasion.
It wasn’t that they weren’t going to chase her. They were hunters. They didn’t need to hurry after their prey.
Chapter 29
The next few days were busy ones for both Ryuu and Rei. For Ryuu, the focus was on training. He wasn’t sure he was better than Renzo. In their short confrontation, Ryuu had felt evenly matched with him, but Renzo’s experience gave him an edge. Ryuu had been l
ucky that Rei had been with him and Renzo had been unwilling to kill her. If not for her, he might not be alive.
So Ryuu trained from the time the sun came up to the time it went down. They cleared out their supply tent, unwilling to let anyone in camp observe their training. With wooden blades they came at each other time and time again, but Ryuu wasn’t getting stronger, not enough.
It was Rei who had the idea on the third day of their training. “You know Tenchi’s attack from back on the island, the one you couldn’t block?”
Ryuu nodded.
“You could try to teach yourself that one. I know for a fact Renzo doesn’t know it, and it may give you the edge you need to beat him.”
“How could you know that?”
“Because I asked around after your duel with Tenchi. I’d never seen the attack, so I asked some of the other elders who trained with Tenchi and Renzo. No one had ever seen it. You’re the first person to have drawn it out of him.”
Ryuu nodded. It was a good idea, although he wasn’t sure how he would go about learning it. He started by trying to piece together what he did know of the technique. It was only good against people who were sense-gifted, so it had something to do with intent and action. Somehow, Tenchi had intended to strike in all directions. It had thrown off Ryuu’s sense, but only one of the strikes was the real strike.
He and Rei practiced, over and over. All around them the camp prepared for war. The men drilled, and the sound of practice swords filled the air. There was a nervousness and a fear in the air pushing Ryuu to train more diligently. He struck and Rei told him how she had sensed his attack. Over and over they repeated the process, neither of them willing to give up, even though Ryuu’s progress was incremental at best.
At night, Akira summoned the two of them, and they stayed up late and talked. Ryuu told him about the Azarians moving north, but mostly they just talked. Ryuu came to realize that Akira used them to bounce ideas off of. He trusted their opinions. Mostly Ryuu realized Akira just wanted to spend time with Rei. Ryuu thought it had become a strange world.
Rei didn’t train with the same intensity Ryuu did. The battle was not her own, and she was considering leaving before the final battle was joined. Ryuu was disappointed, but he understood. He had gotten used to Rei’s companionship, and he was grateful she had raised his spirits.
At night though, when Rei thought Ryuu was asleep, she would leave the tent and go to visit Akira. The first night Ryuu sensed what the two of them did. He was surprised that he wasn’t surprised. A nightblade and a Lord. That was breaking the treaty in just about every way. There was a pang of jealousy, but Ryuu pushed it aside. Rei was an adult and could do as she pleased. As attractive as she was, Ryuu was still in love with Moriko.
After the first night he didn’t try to sense her when she left. It seemed rude. One morning she came back after he was awake again, and their eyes met. He knew where she’d been, and she knew that he knew, but they never spoke of it. There wasn’t any need, and Ryuu didn’t judge. So long as she trained with him, helping him develop Tenchi’s technique, he was content.
For Ryuu, it was strange how quiet his life was when all around him the world was spinning out of control. His last few days had been a constant cycle of training and rest, preparation for his inevitable confrontation with Renzo. Rei told Ryuu that sometimes it felt like there were multiple attacks coming, just like Tenchi’s attack. It wasn’t much, but it would have to be enough. As Ryuu looked out on the scene before him, he was sure he wouldn’t have much longer to practice. He had been in the calm before the storm, but the storm was coming, and it was looking to break them all.
Ryuu stood on top of a ridgeline looking down at the valley below. Below him sat both of Tanak’s armies, spread out for a league in either direction. Behind him sat Akira’s own armies, victors in their previous engagement, but much smaller than the camp below. Between them were rolling hills. Akira’s men held the higher ground, but there were so many of Tanak’s men. Ryuu had never been able to look down on a camp like this, and he was astounded by the sight.
Tanak’s camp was a city unto itself. The smoke from the fires was oppressive, the wind blowing it into Akira’s camps. The sound of men and horses carried clear to Ryuu’s ears, and it was loud, even at this distance. Ryuu glanced behind him and measured the size of Akira’s camp. It was smaller, but still large. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like when these two armies met.
Ryuu had fought multiple opponents in his life, but he’d never been a part of organized warfare. He had a new respect for Mashiro and Makoto. There wasn’t any way he could manage or lead an army to victory. It was a skill beyond his grasp. He held on to his sword. Killing was his talent.
Ryuu didn’t want the battle to happen. He knew there was no way the battle would be anything less than devastating for both sides, but both sides were set. Ryuu had suggested Akira propose a duel for the kingdoms. Ryuu would fight for the Southern Kingdom. He had little doubt Renzo would fight for the Western Kingdom. Akira had considered it for a moment and then laughed. He said it was tempting, but he wasn’t going to trust the fate of his kingdom to a single duel.
Everything Ryuu saw screamed waste. He thought back to the last time he had tried using his sense at a distance, remembering the experience of the Azarian army moving north. He wanted to shout at Akira, let him know that army, with the power at the heart of it, was the real enemy. Both he and Rei had tried, but Akira wouldn’t change his plans. They had held the pass for many cycles, and he wasn’t worried. He believed Toro could hold the pass without a problem.
Ryuu wanted to share in Akira’s belief, but every time he sensed the Azarians, he couldn’t help but think there was something more at play here. Akira had dismissed his notions.
Ryuu sighed and turned to go back to his tent. The battle would begin tomorrow, and the valley would be bathed in blood.
That night, he and Rei were summoned to Akira’s tent. Ryuu wasn’t surprised. He assumed Akira would want to discuss their plans for the upcoming battle.
When they entered, Ryuu saw Akira was in conference with his two generals. He and Rei waited quietly while they finished their final details. The two generals left, giving the two nightblades a look Ryuu couldn’t place. It was somewhere between anger and disgust.
Akira ushered them in. He looked tired, but his back was straight and he spoke with authority. “It’s good to see both of you.” The comment seemed to be directed more at Rei than at Ryuu, but he shrugged it off.
“I’ve asked you here because I’d like your advice.”
The three of them sat down. Ryuu was intrigued. It wasn’t like Akira to ask for advice, not from him.
“There’s been news from the pass.”
Ryuu started. Ever since he’d made the decision to meet up with Akira instead of traveling further south, he had been far less diligent about tracking Moriko in the evenings. Part of it was that he was exhausted after his days of training. Another part was that he wanted to stay focused on the problems in front of him, but the biggest part was that he was scared. He wasn’t going to save Moriko, and he feared that one day he would try to sense her and she’d be gone. It was easier not to know.
“Is it Moriko?” He dared to hope she had made it back safely.
Akira shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ryuu. She traveled into Azaria, but we never heard from her again.”
Ryuu’s head dropped. Tonight, if he got the chance, he would search for her. He had to know.
Akira continued. “I received a letter from Toro today. Ryuu, your abilities did not lie to you. There is a tremendous mass of Azarians moving north to the pass. Toro’s scouts found them just a few days ago. There are more Azarians marching north than both Tanak and I have in the valley right now.”
“What are you going to do?”
Akira paced back and forth. “My first instinct is to fight this battle and decimate Tanak. Then I can form up all the men from both kingdoms and press them into the
pass. We should be able to hold it until the snow comes, at least. Then maybe I can speak with Sen and we can cooperate. We’ve never faced a force this large, this strong before. We’ll need all the help we can get.”
Ryuu shook his head. “If you fight here, you’ll decimate both your own troops and Tanak’s. You won’t have many people left over to move down to the pass. You know that.”
Akira shrugged. “So what do you propose?”
“Surrender.”
Akira’s blade came out and cut towards Ryuu. He sensed it coming and stepped out of the way. Akira slashed wildly, but he never came close to Ryuu. His anger spent, he stared daggers into Ryuu. “Don’t ever tell me to surrender my kingdom!”
Ryuu stepped right into his face. Akira raised his blade, but Ryuu knocked it from his hands. He slapped Akira hard across the face. He heard Rei gasp behind him. “Don’t be foolish! You’re not just talking about too many Azarians. They’re going to have hunters in that pack. Maybe not many, but enough to make their numbers seem even more powerful. The only way these kingdoms will have any chance at all is if you work with the other Lords, not fight against them. Swallow your foolish pride and surrender your kingdom so you can save it.”
Akira stepped back as Ryuu released him. After the shock of what had happened had passed, he smiled. “You certainly don’t feel the need to be on my good side, do you?”
Ryuu didn’t dignify the question with a response.
A silence stretched between the three of them. Ryuu didn’t know what else to say. If Akira didn’t want to listen to his advice, there was little else he could do. When tomorrow’s battle came, he would try to save as many lives as possible.