The Wind and the Void (30 page)

“I apologize, but I’m not sure how much to say. Some is pretty obvious, but I imagine Tenchi will want to fill you in on most of the details. I can say this. The old man is still in charge, but the island is definitely reaching a point where a decision will have to be made. I’ve never seen the people so divided. Shika, as you can guess, still wants to return to the mainland in force, and Tenchi continues to hold us back. I’m not sure what effect you’ll have on everybody, but I do know this. When you arrive, you’re going to force the issue to a point.”

Ryuu nodded. Nothing the man said was particularly surprising, but it was still worrying to him. He knew the decision was important, but he didn’t want to see the blades torn apart by it. That would be the worst possible outcome. There were too few of them left, and they needed to be unified in purpose.

The journey was otherwise uneventful. The seas were as calm as they ever got, and although Ryuu still didn’t like being out of sight of land, it could have been far worse. Moriko seemed to take to the sea naturally, and sometimes Ryuu was envious of how she simply seemed to adapt to everything that happened to her. It was one of her greatest strengths.

They pulled into the island two days later, and as Ryuu had expected, Tenchi was there to greet them.

Ryuu surprised even himself by sweeping Tenchi into a big embrace. He was sure Tenchi had sensed it coming, but it seemed to take the old man by surprise.

Afterward, Ryuu looked Tenchi over. He was old, but still seemed vigorous. Ryuu had never met anyone as old as Tenchi, and even at his advanced age, the man had beat him in a duel just a cycle ago. He wasn’t sure Tenchi could repeat the feat again, but it had been impressive at the time.

Ryuu introduced Tenchi and Moriko formally. They each knew of each other, and the introductions were short.

Tenchi fixed Moriko with his gaze. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Moriko. I have heard much about you from Ryuu, and you must be strong indeed to hold the affections of such a warrior. However, I must ask one task of you before you come onto the island.”

Ryuu groaned inwardly. He had forgotten about the trials. Moriko was going to be very upset soon.

Moriko said nothing as Tenchi continued. “I know that out in the world you have accomplished great things, but as I’m sure Ryuu has told you, this island can only be entered by blades. To become one, there is a set of three trials you must complete.”

Tenchi pointed to the wall that Ryuu remembered having to climb the first time he had been on the island. His fingers ached at the memory. “You will find your first challenge there. The next two will be self-explanatory.”

Moriko fixed Tenchi with a hard gaze. “No.” Ryuu had to contain a laugh as Tenchi involuntarily stepped back a pace.

Tenchi looked confused, and Ryuu again had to stifle his mirth. The old man had no idea what he’d stepped into. He had expected the trials to be a minor formality, but Moriko wouldn’t bend to anyone’s rules.

Tenchi looked as though he was about to reply when Moriko continued, her voice soft but clear. “I know you mean well, but I won’t go through your trials for the sake of propriety. I know Ryuu has spoken about me, and you know what I’m capable of. I couldn’t care less whether or not you consider me a nightblade, but I am coming onto this island.”

The leader of the island was torn between anger and astonishment. Ryuu wondered how he would respond. Moriko would never give in, though. He felt foolish for having forgotten about the trials.

Tenchi finally laughed, his mirth evident. “Well, I suppose you’ve forced my hand. There’s no doubt of your abilities, and these are trying times for us all. Welcome, welcome.”

With that, they were admitted to the island, and they began the long journey up to the top of the plateau. As they left, Tenchi pulled the two of them aside and whispered, “I’ll give you a little bit of time, but your arrival has stirred up quite the hornet’s nest of expectations. You won’t have more than a few days to prepare, and then we will summon a council to determine the fate of both the nightblades and the Three Kingdoms.”

Chapter 24

The hunting party was larger than any they had encountered before, and it made Akira’s decision more challenging. Most of the parties they had encountered over the summer had been small, no more than ten to fifteen men on average. But either this group had joined with another, or their information had been wrong. Either way, there were almost thirty Azarians ahead of them, and Akira had to decide his course of action.

The summer had settled into a pattern. Akira and his men traveled through the Kingdom, bringing what aid they could whenever it was in their power to do so. They would attack small groups of Azarians, pressing their advantage whenever they outnumbered their enemy by a healthy margin. It wasn’t a courageous strategy, but Akira figured there would be time for courage later. Now he needed men, and that meant attacking easy targets.

His plan was slowly starting to work. Word of his deeds was starting to spread throughout the land. It had taken several moons, but they had worked their way to the border of the old Western Kingdom. They could have made much better time, but Akira’s focus was larger than the monasteries alone. He needed to protect everyone he could. So they wandered back and forth across the land, doing what they could for the people behind enemy lines. It also gave him extra time to decide what he would do about the monasteries.

The home of the Chief Abbot would be well defended. Although there were only several hundred monks scattered throughout the land, Akira assumed many of them had been called to their primary monastery. It would take more men than Akira had to break through the monastery with force.

His experiences at Hope haunted his memory. Even if he did try to break the monastic system by force, he wasn’t sure the people of his land wouldn’t turn on him. He had underestimated the hold the monasteries had on the people. There was no compelling reason for the monasteries to cooperate with him, either. In short, he was out of ideas.

So Akira and his honor guard continued along, slowly, towards the monastery. They were gathering power among the people. When they came to villages, more often than not word of their arrival had already spread, and he and his men were welcomed as conquering heroes. Akira was grateful for the support, but he felt as though he was selling them a lie. His men might make a difference for a little while, but in the grand scheme of events happening in the Kingdom, they were but a thorn in the side of the Azarians.

The actions they took did help, even if it was only for a little while. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could do, and for now that was enough for him.

He stopped his mind from wandering and focused on the problem in front of him. His men had been told by a nearby village there was a small hunting party nearby, but instead they had found either a large hunting party or small clan. Akira’s scouts reported at least thirty men. It was one of the largest collections of Azarians they had encountered yet.

Akira’s men vastly outnumbered them. The entire summer they had only lost six men, but taking on a group of Azarians this large almost guaranteed Akira would sentence some of his honor guard to death. It was a risk he wasn’t sure he was willing to take. Too many had died for too little already.

Akira held conference with Yung.

“I think we should attack them.”

Akira was surprised. “I thought you would be more cautious.”

“No. There’s no doubt it’s more dangerous than anything we’ve done yet. I know you are thinking about the men, but I am too.”

Akira’s eyes rose up with a question written across them. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve been successful all summer. We’ve hurt the Azarians in many small ways, but the men want to hurt the Azarians in bigger ways. They are content now, but I don’t know how much longer that will last. They need something more they can be proud of. Maybe this isn’t it, but if nothing else, they will learn the cost of taking a bigger risk.”

“You’re willing to let men die to teach others a lesson?”

“No, but I’m afraid we’ll lose more if we don’t do something soon. They’re chomping at the bit. Our success has gone to their heads. They think they’re capable of more than they are. This attack is dangerous, but we know that even if we make a mistake, this won’t stop us.”

Akira considered the advice of his captain. It wasn’t how he felt, but he had come to rely on Yung. The man was born to serve in the army, and it showed in everything he did. He was reliable, level-headed and never impulsive. He was a good man to have by your side.

“Very well. Draw up the plans. We’ll attack at dawn.”

The sun was just beginning to rise when Akira and his men launched their attack. It began with a well-coordinated flight of arrows from the east, striking throughout the Azarian camp. Some were normal arrows, aimed at those in the hunting party who were up and moving. Others were flaming arrows, aimed at the tents that comprised the Azarian shelters. Some Azarians died in their sleep, and Akira felt no guilt over it.

Even though the Azarian party didn’t have any hunters in it, Akira had learned long ago not to fight the Azarians in the evening. Moriko had mentioned in her report that nighttime raids were common among the Azarians, and Akira and his men had learned that lesson the hard way on one of their first missions. Their enemies from the south were experts in fighting by moonlight, and their guards were always at their most alert when the sun was down. Experience had taught Akira and Yung it was much better to strike by the first light of the sun, when the Azarians were usually less watchful.

The arrows had the desired effect on the hunting party. They felled several warriors and lit some of the tents on fire. More importantly, it sowed confusion among the Azarians. Akira could well understand. It would be disorienting, to say the least, to wake up and have arrows pouring down around you.

But he had to give the Azarians the credit they were due. Despite the initial shock, it only took them a matter of moments to organize themselves. They separated to the north and to the south, attempting to circle around the archers who were attacking their position.

If there was one aspect of the Azarians Akira had learned in his summer campaign, it was that most of them didn’t think in terms of military strategy. Nameless did, which is how the Azarians had been able to beat his men at the Three Sisters, but most of your day-to-day Azarians did not. They thought like hunters, trying to circle around their prey and sneak up behind it. One of their fatal flaws was that they didn’t stop to think how they were hunting prey that fought back.

Akira and Yung had predicted the Azarian response perfectly, and men were hidden along two shallow draws to the north and south of the Azarian camp. When the Azarians split up they followed the draws and walked right into the ambush.

Akira was grateful for his success. The wind had been from the west the entire evening, and they had spent an inordinate amount of time worrying about their scent. Several reports had already come to them about the abilities of many of the Azarians. It was said that some of them could smell their prey from hundreds of paces away. Akira didn’t want to lend the rumor any credence, but he couldn’t be sure, and it was better to be safe than surprised.

At Yung’s signal, Akira’s men launched their second ambush in the draws. His honor guard rose to their feet and charged the Azarians, surrounding them in moments. The Azarians were heavily outnumbered, but they didn’t run. That was another thing Azarians had in common. They never ran. The battle was fierce but short-lived. It was only a matter of moments before they broke through the Azarian hunting party.

Akira watched the battle with a detached eye. He listened to the battle cries of the Azarians and watched as their energy and enthusiasm clashed against the cold discipline and training of his men. The Azarians were excellent fighters, and Akira saw at least one of his men fall to a cut, but the Azarians didn’t have a chance.

He watched and was taken by a deep sadness. Everything was meaningless. They would win here today, even though it cost them valuable men. Men who could have had full lives. They would buy the villagers some safety for a time, but the Azarians would return. They always did. Akira shook his head. He couldn’t allow himself to think like that. He had to keep thinking about moving forward.

He turned his horse around and rode back to camp. Akira had wanted to take part in the battles, but Yung had flatly denied his king’s request. There was no need for him to participate, and they risked far, far more than they gained. Akira understood the argument his captain was making, but it didn’t mean he liked it. He wanted to take part in the fight, to be alongside his men when they risked their lives.

Akira rode back to camp. He would start their meal, doing what he could to aid the fight. They would rest nearby for one evening, but they would be on the move again tomorrow. They hoped to reach the next village soon to rest there and trade for supplies.

Yung and the men rode in not far behind him. As Akira examined their faces he saw a mixture of sorrow and pride. They had won the battle, but they had lost friends.

Yung stopped next to Akira. “We lost three.”

There was nothing else that needed to be said. Akira bowed slightly to Yung, who rode in silence towards his tent. If he took a step back, three soldiers weren’t a tremendous loss, especially considering they had killed over thirty Azarians. But his men were the best warriors in the Kingdom, and the loss of any one of them was hard to swallow. He still had most of his men, but it wasn’t enough. Not against the flood of Azarians coming into the Kingdom. He would miss his men. He reminded himself to ask Yung to tell him who had fallen in the battle.

As his men rested together the next night, Akira reflected on the events that were starting to change the shape of the Kingdom. Everything he had known, everything he had grown up believing, was changing under the Azarian threat.