A Hard Road
A prequel to Winter Court 5 story by Jeanne Kalvar (Kakita Kaori / Kakita Kyoumi WC 5)
The flames streamed up to the heavens, causing the full moon to waver like a banner as it rode the waves of heat. Daidoji Uzen stood at attention by the pyre. The heat of it radiated into the darkness and seeped into his skin, warming him in the autumn evening’s chill. Is it wrong to enjoy the warmth of a funeral pyre? At least the pyre of an old man who died peacefully in his sleep for once? He scanned the crowd to see if there were any he recognized.
A quick nod to Eyro and Kashiwaki, of course. They had been a unit for how long? They weren’t likely to separate now. The other Daidoji in his squad, Jurai and Suriko, were sleeping. Even if the Academy was in mourning for one of its masters, they were not going to stop any of the Iron Warriors from a night of respite after their endless battles.
Maybe it’s nice to think it will be this way for me. Better this than blown into a thousand pieces in some tainted battlefield. It’s nice to think that someone would be standing vigil, praying for me.
Like her. Kakita Kyoumi stood stiffly by the pyre, watching the sparks dance upwards, carried aloft on the autumn breeze. Her white kimono and stiff obi were bright against the growing twilight. The Kakita he’d talked to said she was the ward of the aged Painting Master. She had returned from the relative safety of Phoenix lands a little more than a year ago to tend her guardian as he danced the slow, painful dance that the aged make with Emma-O before the end.
She was not alone beside the pyre. All of the remaining masters at the Kakita Academy, and many of the students had turned out to see the funeral of the oldest Painting Grandmaster. A Kakita duelist obviously wasn't overly interested in the proceedings...he was picking at a tooth with a fingernail. Karasu, Uzen thought. He met us at the gate.
The Asahina shugenja raised his hands and chanted the final prayers to the kami that would send the grandmaster's spirit racing towards the afterlife. His young face was turned up to the sky, and the wind blew his dark hair about him wildly. He was as young as the Kakita girl. Maybe even younger, but Asahina rarely risked leaving their secluded sanctum. It was hard to say how much longer Shinden Asahina would still stand. The Kakita were fortunate to have any shugenja at all to serve for this ceremony.
Finally, it was over. The Kakita girl looked lost for a moment, turning towards him and, probably, the direction of the Master Artisan's chambers. He thought about going up to her. Coax a smile from the face of a pretty girl? Eh. Probably not the time. But I could say hello...
The thought was interrupted by a young student, a child of the dojo, really, who ran up to him and planted himself squarely before him, bowing. "Daidoji-sama!" the child began. "Nozomi-sama has requested you and your squad to report to her in the council chambers, sir."
Uzen scowled. The kid phrased it as a request, but it was an order, and it was immediate. At least he hadn't been catching a nap. He nodded sharply at the child and headed towards the council chambers.
Their naps didn't hinder them any. He arrived only moments before Eyro, Kashiwaki, Jurai, and Suriko. They were at the ready, in their armor and prepared for anything the world could throw at them. A skill you need to survive, these days. But, Fortunes, Jurai, you could have tied your obi better.
Daidoji Nozomi, Shireikan of the Iron Warriors, sat at the center of the long table that served as the gathering point of the grandmasters of the Academy. The Kakita daimyo was not present. Hardly a surprise. This place is about ready to fall at any moment. If the Lion buckle.... Hard to keep from a growl. Stupid. Indefensible. They never even shut the gates. Still, we've got a few surprises for anyone who goes poking around too closely, eh, Eyro.
Eyro was the squad gaijin pepper expert. Uzen slipped the older man a quick glance while he stood at attention. Eyro nodded slightly back, then gestured with his chin to where the Kakita Ikebana master and the Poetry master were in some discussion about something called 'Broken Petal Ikebana' and its relationship to modern haiku. Uzen just had to roll his eyes.
Ikebana and haiku. Can you eat it? Can you fight with it? No? Then what good is it anyway. Gah. I sound like a Crab. He continued to stand stiffly at attention, waiting for Nozomi's order.
Finally, five more were led into the chamber and stood in front of his squad. Uzen looked over them with interest. Pretty Crane girl...that Kyoumi. And that duelist Karasu too. And the Asahina....he's a different one. And who are these two?
Fragrant and resplendent in an elegant robe, a middle-aged Doji swept into the room, followed by another older Doji who looked like she had once been a beauty, wearing the armor of a bushi. He checked her mons...married. Probably never seen a day of real fighting in her life, Uzen thought uncharitably. The other three he had seen at the funeral followed after him. All looked confused about their purpose there. All hid it well.
Nozomi stood and addressed the ten of them.
"We..." she let the word hang in the air long enough to end the disparate Academy masters' intense conversation, "have received an invitation from the Emperor. Iweko the second. Honored be his name. He's decided that, after sixteen years of silence that now is finally time to hold a winter court. Finally! We of course will oblige him. You are all commanded to attend with me. Steel Feather Squadron Four, you've worked together as a team long enough, and I trust you to keep your secrets safe and defend these others. You've proven your honor to the clan." She turned to the others. "You'll accompany these five. Doji Arami. He's a good logistician...we need him to negotiate for rice, ashigaru...whatever we need. Yuri's his yojimbo. Asahina Hisato...Shugenja, and I hear good things about his court skills. Karasu will be your duelist. Kyoumi's been in the court of the Phoenix. They have plenty of backstabbers there. They've got a good diversity of talents. They're all healthy enough. And they are here."
As one, the Daidoji elite unit declared, on cue, "Hai, Daidoji-sama!" Uzen lent his voice to the others, for he knew a command when he heard it, though he wondered what a unit like his would be expected to do on such a battlefield. At least we won't be stabbing each other in the back, he thought. That's something.
The others, Courtiers, bowed, accepting the Daidoji's command. Uzen noticed Suriko rolling her eyes. Well, at least one of them is pretty, single, AND a girl.
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They're surprised? Uzen almost felt pity for the courtiers as they followed Nozomi-sama through the remains of the blighted village. The lot of them looked completely miserable. Honestly, Uzen didn't really blame them.
The village was like a hundred he had seen in the course of his battles. Crows circling overhead. The blighted, empty rice fields, the stalks black with rot as they reached out of the putrid waters. The stench. Too isolated to be rescued. Too poor to trade. Too sick to farm. Too weak to leave. These villagers had starved to death.
Nozomi gave a sharp command. There were no burakumin around to take care of it, and even these poor bastards could be trouble brought back from the dead as zombies.
He was surprised when the courtiers moved to assist...he hadn't expected them to jump to the Shireikan's orders, but they did anyway. But his men worked silently, and did not bother them. The Asahina, of course, kept himself apart. He was shugenja, after all, and would be needed to do the rites of purification after this dirty job was completed. He found a place at one of the larger houses at the end of the village and began preparing the place for the funerary rites.
The Doji wandered the streets of the village mournfully, his yojimbo at his side. He kept his hands folded behind his back, head down, a stricken expression on his face. But eventually he reached the side of the village where he found a number of barrels, still sealed. A gesture and the bushi cracked the seal on the barrel for him. He picked up a piece of bamboo and poked in the barrel for a few moments. While his yojimbo resealed the barrel, the Doji noted something down on a wax tablet he retrieved from his obi. He walked on.
Uzen started dragging the bodies towards the house the Asahina was preparing and threw them in, one by one. The others of his squad were doing the same. The swordsman stalked the village like some sort of grim, black crow. His expression was dark, but otherwise unreadable.
The Daidoji couldn't see the girl.
It took some time to clear the village. As Uzen approached the one of the last huts, he could hear the sound of soft singing. The sound was tender and sweet, carrying a tender lullaby on the afternoon air. He threw open the cracked shoji. Oh. There she is.
The Kakita maiden knelt on the floor by the side of two very small futons. On each futon... Of course. Two small bodies, tucked in under cozy, if well worn, blankets. The courtier was not weeping....That's something. She looked down at the bodies of the children with tender eyes, and sang sweetly to them, of fair fields and evening skies and the dance of fireflies.
Uzen wasn't sure how to disturb her, but a dark presence came up behind him and loomed over his shoulder.
"Kyoumi-san, get out of the way." Karasu's voice was cool and detached.
The singing stopped. Kyoumi stepped back. He went in to pick up the body of the little boy that lay in one futon. The duelist came up behind him and, without another word, gathered up the body of the little girl. Huh. Didn't expect that, either.
They carried the final two bodies to the house the Asahina had prepared and set them inside. The Kakita maiden followed. The two Doji joined them at the site, along with his squadmates. The Asahina nodded to indicate he was prepared. Shireikan Nozomi gave the order.
The building was put to the torch to the sound of chanting. No warmth from this fire.
After the shugenja had performed all proper rites of purification, of the burned house and bodies, and of those who had performed this grim duty, the group was again set upon their way, leaving behind nothing but a pillar of smoke and the haunting refrain of some sweet melody the duelist played while they packed up to leave. Hopefully the delay would not cost them further.
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Humph. The girl still isn't talking. Uzen set down a pile of firewood next to the fire. There should be enough now to last the night. For the first four days the Kakita girl wouldn't shut up, a constant source of silly stories, endless questions, and snatches of song. She never stopped. Now? Nothing. Fat lot of good that will do in court...a poet that won't talk. The Nikutai watched her lure a small mouse out of the pile of brush, coaxing it to come sit on her hand and petting it gently.
The Crow, watching her, snorted, but said nothing, instead smoothing the polishing cloth along the length of his perfect Kakita blade. On the ground beside him was a closed wooden case the length of his forearm, clasped with metal. The Daidoji had noticed it before. It was odd. The duelist laid the polishing cloth on the case and inspected the metal of his katana carefully before reseathing it. He never lets that box out of his sight. Wonder what's in it.
The Asahina was over with the Shireikan and his Gunso, Kashiwaki, at the general's personal fire. Being briefed on the Court strategy, no doubt. Hopefully it would be straight forward. Simple. Uzen knew such things rarely were, but surely the Lion and Crab would see that that they had held. That will be enough, won't it?
He heard a series of rapid clicks. The Doji was at the abacus again. He had a large ledger spread out before him and was carefully recopying the notes that he had made during the day. Click. Click click. Click. Click click click. The sound drew Jurai's attention. This should be fun.
"Doji-sama," said the young, enthusiastic hohei. "What are you counting? Rocks? Leaves? More of the second here, on the outskirts of the Mori. More of the first in five more days, when we get to the foot of the mountains. See no reason to count them, either way."
The Doji looked coolly at the teen. "I am re-estimating. The reports I receive are generally accurate, but there are holes in the coverage. Messengers are late. Extensions and delays. Conflicting details. Being able to observe conditions in the field greatly improves the accuracy of my calculations. There may be places where I can improve the supply chain to the northeast villages. ”
The kid looks as confused as if the Doji just sprouted wings and invited him to dance. Uzen laughed aloud. Then, deciding that the girl had been silent enough, decided to go find some amusement for himself. He went over to sit down next to her.
“So, Kakita-san. You’ve been quiet.”
She looked up, and the mouse that had been perched on her knee scampered off. She blushed and turned her head away.
The Daidoji scratched his chin. Hum. Need to shave before we get to the mountain. “That won’t do for court, you know. I know you’ve got plenty of words in there. You’re going to need them.”
The girl spoke softly, her voice unused for some time, “You’re…right. I’ve been sent in to sing, haven’t I? A nightingale who can’t sing is just another sparrow.”
Uzen snorted. “Sparrow? You definitely don’t want to be one of those. I’ve seen Sparrow lands. Much better off in your pretty Kakita cage, Nightingale. We’ll keep you safe.”
“Hai, Uzen-sama,” Kyoumi finally forced out a smile and nodded. Then she got up and began dancing the woman’s dance around the camp…picking up, putting away, asking everyone how they were feeling and inquiring about the journey ahead. Eh. She’ll do fine.
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A single moment of peace by the fire, it seemed...and then it was over. The ground, which had been warmed by the heat of his body, suddenly grew cold beneath him. A few plaintive crickets would normally be crying out to find a mate this time of the season, but the forest grew silent. Even the high pitched bat or the soft hoot of the owl was beyond his senses now. It was not the sound, it was the sudden lack of it that made him stop short.
Suriko was alert, ready, with her weapon in her hands. She gave the signal. Uzen slowly stood and also moved towards his, while still trying to find the point source of the emptiness. He nudged Eyro, who also stood. The courtiers and artisans fell silent, confused, as they scanned the fire-lit twilight.
There was no other murmur of warning before the flood was upon them. Erupting almost out of the earth before them came a great growth of red tentacles, ragged with thorns and flailing out in every direction. From the middle of the eruption, a giant, grotesque mockery of a woman stepped, almost dancer-like, from the thorns. She..It...was ten feet in height, at least, with six great horns curling from its head. Its skin was red and scaled, nearly metallic in luster, and its four arms were each ended in long, black claws.
It turned away from its tentacled nest towards the firelight and the prey that awaited it.
Such creatures were rare, even in the fiercest battlegrounds. But the night stories told by hardened warriors remembered the name.
Kyoso.
First a flash. A streak of black and blue, moving faster than seemed humanly possible, darted towards it. Of course. The duelist. Too late to tell him its hide turns blades...
Karasu's sword slashed across the creature's midsection, but barely left a scratch. It knocked him aside as if he were some sort of stinging insect. The Crow went flying back through the air, his sword tumbling to the ground.
Crack! A single shot rang out through the through the twilight as Sumiko fired her rifle. The pellet tore into the oni's skin, infuriating it, but one shot was insufficient to kill it. Only the sentry on duty dared keep their weapon loaded for the watch. But even that wound was insufficient to stop the oni. It instead reached towards the Doji who watched it approach with stunned horror. His yojimbo drew her blade, but she would not reach him in time.
"Run, Doji-sama!" Jurai threw himself up between the Doji and the Kyoso's claws without a second's hesitation. The Doji did as bid, scrambling away from the oni for his life as the Kyoso ripped Jurai's throat from his neck with its claws and cast him aside. Uzen heard a cry of pain and a grunt as the courtier fell, but the oni had at least averted its gaze from him. His yojimbo had drawn her blade and stepped in to protect her charge, but the Daidoji bushi knew she didn't stand a chance.
Uzen longed for his own rifle, but knew there would be no time to load it. He shouted, "Aim for the eye! " He reached for his bow to do just that when he heard the sound of fierce chanting and a cry of pain from behind him. The Shireikan! He turned to realize the mass of tentacles was no inanimate nest, but instead a living, moving thing that crawled over the ground towards the general's fire, where she had been meeting with Hisato and Kashiwaki. The Asahina's prayers had thrown some sort of shielding around the three of them, but his shield was buckling against the force of the fury of just the first few branches of the thing. It would never hold were its full weight brought to bear.
"Eyro! Detonate! For the glory of the Crane!" Kashiwaki gave the order, and stepped around Hisato's shield, throwing himself onto the thorns that were lashing against it and drawing his katana. Again and again the blade slashed, even as more thorned tentacles wrapped around the gunso's ankles, then his legs. It took only seconds before the thorns had torn Kashiwaki apart.
But seconds was enough. While Uzen was turning back and lining up his shot on the Kyoso, he heard a gruff cry. There was no time for planting the careful charge. No time for caution. Eyro had drawn a twig from the fire and swept up the gaijin pepper barrel that he kept so carefully guarded. Then, lighting the barrel, he charged straight for the living thornbeast, diving into the center of the mass.
BOOM!
The sound was deafening. After that the only sound he could hear is the ringing in his ears. Shukujo's chime...My Champion draws the blade... Uzen turned back to face the other oni in time to see the Doji yojimbo fall. He could not tell if she was alive or dead. He drew and fired his bow twice on the Kyoso as it reached for Suriko, for the one who had hurt it, as Suriko desperately tried to reload. Uzen's arrows flew and impacted the oni solidly in the throat, but the arrow tumbled away. They were insufficient to even break the oni's skin. It was not enough.
The oni tore Suriko's body in two, dropping each half to the ground.
Already gone...the last...
Nightingale!
The Kyoso seemed to laugh as it turned to menace the Crane girl. The girl dove and rolled away from the Kyoso's deadly grasp, scrambling out of reach with surprising agility, but the oni turned and danced towards her. Nightingale has spirit, I'll give her that. She raced towards a tree and started to climb.
But the Oni was too large. Uzen dropped the bow and grabbed his spear, whirled and braced between the Kyoso and the Kakita. I can't stop it. He could see the red and leering face baring down on him, and, even higher above him, trapped up in the branches, a pair of pretty gray eyes. Maybe if she reaches the top of the tree, she really will turn into a nightingale. Maybe she will escape.... Red hot fire tore into him as the Kyoso carelessly dug its claws into his belly as it pursued the girl. Fly away, nightingale....The image made him want to laugh. So he did, a mocking laughter to spite the night.
His laughter broke the oni's fixation on the girl and it turned its head down to look at him with beady black eyes. Something...Uzen couldn't hear what, caused the Kyoso to turn again and then he felt, more than heard, the vibrations of a powerful shockwave. It rippled through the body of the oni like the vibration of a gong. The kyoso's hand let his broken body slide from its claws as its knees buckled and it fell to the ground.
Broken and discarded, still Uzen was able to fall where he could see the one who had saved them.
The Crow.
The duelist stood with face composed for perfect focus, arm outstretched, directed at the oni's head.
And in his hand, the duelist held a single pistol.
The faces came closer. Good not to die alone. Old Crow, so serious....can't hear what he says. Stately Crane...examining my wound despite his own... Pretty Nightingale...so sweet, she takes my hand.
I've heard this story before....my mother told me...Crow and Nightingale and Crane...
The words were bloody on his lips.
"Remember me."
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Mirumoto Kenchio scanned the path up the mountain for the twentieth time this watch. There was little else to do, and little enough to see, though things were more exciting now that the first delegations had arrived for Winter Court. The first Winter Court of his lifetime, certainly. He looked forward to it. The music. The storytelling. The fireworks.
But duty first. He scanned the path up the mountain for the twenty-first time, and nudged his partner to take a look.
There were only six of them now. A white war horse led the way, his rider a powerfully built woman in armor of silver and blue. Her back banners were clearly emblazoned with the mon of the Crane, her rank clearly signaled. Behind her, two horses carried a litter, and a shugenja in white and blue rode beside it. Behind the litter, another pony, ridden by a stately courtier who sat nearly doubled over in weariness and pain. And, trailing them all, two strings of horses, lightly loaded with supplies. One string was led by a tall, dour, black-haired bushi who walked without armor. The other was led by a pretty brown-haired girl.
"Hum. I expected more of them," Natsuo observed.
"Send a message. The Crane delegation has arrived."
A prequel to Winter Court 5 story by Jeanne Kalvar (Kakita Kaori / Kakita Kyoumi WC 5)
The flames streamed up to the heavens, causing the full moon to waver like a banner as it rode the waves of heat. Daidoji Uzen stood at attention by the pyre. The heat of it radiated into the darkness and seeped into his skin, warming him in the autumn evening’s chill. Is it wrong to enjoy the warmth of a funeral pyre? At least the pyre of an old man who died peacefully in his sleep for once? He scanned the crowd to see if there were any he recognized.
A quick nod to Eyro and Kashiwaki, of course. They had been a unit for how long? They weren’t likely to separate now. The other Daidoji in his squad, Jurai and Suriko, were sleeping. Even if the Academy was in mourning for one of its masters, they were not going to stop any of the Iron Warriors from a night of respite after their endless battles.
Maybe it’s nice to think it will be this way for me. Better this than blown into a thousand pieces in some tainted battlefield. It’s nice to think that someone would be standing vigil, praying for me.
Like her. Kakita Kyoumi stood stiffly by the pyre, watching the sparks dance upwards, carried aloft on the autumn breeze. Her white kimono and stiff obi were bright against the growing twilight. The Kakita he’d talked to said she was the ward of the aged Painting Master. She had returned from the relative safety of Phoenix lands a little more than a year ago to tend her guardian as he danced the slow, painful dance that the aged make with Emma-O before the end.
She was not alone beside the pyre. All of the remaining masters at the Kakita Academy, and many of the students had turned out to see the funeral of the oldest Painting Grandmaster. A Kakita duelist obviously wasn't overly interested in the proceedings...he was picking at a tooth with a fingernail. Karasu, Uzen thought. He met us at the gate.
The Asahina shugenja raised his hands and chanted the final prayers to the kami that would send the grandmaster's spirit racing towards the afterlife. His young face was turned up to the sky, and the wind blew his dark hair about him wildly. He was as young as the Kakita girl. Maybe even younger, but Asahina rarely risked leaving their secluded sanctum. It was hard to say how much longer Shinden Asahina would still stand. The Kakita were fortunate to have any shugenja at all to serve for this ceremony.
Finally, it was over. The Kakita girl looked lost for a moment, turning towards him and, probably, the direction of the Master Artisan's chambers. He thought about going up to her. Coax a smile from the face of a pretty girl? Eh. Probably not the time. But I could say hello...
The thought was interrupted by a young student, a child of the dojo, really, who ran up to him and planted himself squarely before him, bowing. "Daidoji-sama!" the child began. "Nozomi-sama has requested you and your squad to report to her in the council chambers, sir."
Uzen scowled. The kid phrased it as a request, but it was an order, and it was immediate. At least he hadn't been catching a nap. He nodded sharply at the child and headed towards the council chambers.
Their naps didn't hinder them any. He arrived only moments before Eyro, Kashiwaki, Jurai, and Suriko. They were at the ready, in their armor and prepared for anything the world could throw at them. A skill you need to survive, these days. But, Fortunes, Jurai, you could have tied your obi better.
Daidoji Nozomi, Shireikan of the Iron Warriors, sat at the center of the long table that served as the gathering point of the grandmasters of the Academy. The Kakita daimyo was not present. Hardly a surprise. This place is about ready to fall at any moment. If the Lion buckle.... Hard to keep from a growl. Stupid. Indefensible. They never even shut the gates. Still, we've got a few surprises for anyone who goes poking around too closely, eh, Eyro.
Eyro was the squad gaijin pepper expert. Uzen slipped the older man a quick glance while he stood at attention. Eyro nodded slightly back, then gestured with his chin to where the Kakita Ikebana master and the Poetry master were in some discussion about something called 'Broken Petal Ikebana' and its relationship to modern haiku. Uzen just had to roll his eyes.
Ikebana and haiku. Can you eat it? Can you fight with it? No? Then what good is it anyway. Gah. I sound like a Crab. He continued to stand stiffly at attention, waiting for Nozomi's order.
Finally, five more were led into the chamber and stood in front of his squad. Uzen looked over them with interest. Pretty Crane girl...that Kyoumi. And that duelist Karasu too. And the Asahina....he's a different one. And who are these two?
Fragrant and resplendent in an elegant robe, a middle-aged Doji swept into the room, followed by another older Doji who looked like she had once been a beauty, wearing the armor of a bushi. He checked her mons...married. Probably never seen a day of real fighting in her life, Uzen thought uncharitably. The other three he had seen at the funeral followed after him. All looked confused about their purpose there. All hid it well.
Nozomi stood and addressed the ten of them.
"We..." she let the word hang in the air long enough to end the disparate Academy masters' intense conversation, "have received an invitation from the Emperor. Iweko the second. Honored be his name. He's decided that, after sixteen years of silence that now is finally time to hold a winter court. Finally! We of course will oblige him. You are all commanded to attend with me. Steel Feather Squadron Four, you've worked together as a team long enough, and I trust you to keep your secrets safe and defend these others. You've proven your honor to the clan." She turned to the others. "You'll accompany these five. Doji Arami. He's a good logistician...we need him to negotiate for rice, ashigaru...whatever we need. Yuri's his yojimbo. Asahina Hisato...Shugenja, and I hear good things about his court skills. Karasu will be your duelist. Kyoumi's been in the court of the Phoenix. They have plenty of backstabbers there. They've got a good diversity of talents. They're all healthy enough. And they are here."
As one, the Daidoji elite unit declared, on cue, "Hai, Daidoji-sama!" Uzen lent his voice to the others, for he knew a command when he heard it, though he wondered what a unit like his would be expected to do on such a battlefield. At least we won't be stabbing each other in the back, he thought. That's something.
The others, Courtiers, bowed, accepting the Daidoji's command. Uzen noticed Suriko rolling her eyes. Well, at least one of them is pretty, single, AND a girl.
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They're surprised? Uzen almost felt pity for the courtiers as they followed Nozomi-sama through the remains of the blighted village. The lot of them looked completely miserable. Honestly, Uzen didn't really blame them.
The village was like a hundred he had seen in the course of his battles. Crows circling overhead. The blighted, empty rice fields, the stalks black with rot as they reached out of the putrid waters. The stench. Too isolated to be rescued. Too poor to trade. Too sick to farm. Too weak to leave. These villagers had starved to death.
Nozomi gave a sharp command. There were no burakumin around to take care of it, and even these poor bastards could be trouble brought back from the dead as zombies.
He was surprised when the courtiers moved to assist...he hadn't expected them to jump to the Shireikan's orders, but they did anyway. But his men worked silently, and did not bother them. The Asahina, of course, kept himself apart. He was shugenja, after all, and would be needed to do the rites of purification after this dirty job was completed. He found a place at one of the larger houses at the end of the village and began preparing the place for the funerary rites.
The Doji wandered the streets of the village mournfully, his yojimbo at his side. He kept his hands folded behind his back, head down, a stricken expression on his face. But eventually he reached the side of the village where he found a number of barrels, still sealed. A gesture and the bushi cracked the seal on the barrel for him. He picked up a piece of bamboo and poked in the barrel for a few moments. While his yojimbo resealed the barrel, the Doji noted something down on a wax tablet he retrieved from his obi. He walked on.
Uzen started dragging the bodies towards the house the Asahina was preparing and threw them in, one by one. The others of his squad were doing the same. The swordsman stalked the village like some sort of grim, black crow. His expression was dark, but otherwise unreadable.
The Daidoji couldn't see the girl.
It took some time to clear the village. As Uzen approached the one of the last huts, he could hear the sound of soft singing. The sound was tender and sweet, carrying a tender lullaby on the afternoon air. He threw open the cracked shoji. Oh. There she is.
The Kakita maiden knelt on the floor by the side of two very small futons. On each futon... Of course. Two small bodies, tucked in under cozy, if well worn, blankets. The courtier was not weeping....That's something. She looked down at the bodies of the children with tender eyes, and sang sweetly to them, of fair fields and evening skies and the dance of fireflies.
Uzen wasn't sure how to disturb her, but a dark presence came up behind him and loomed over his shoulder.
"Kyoumi-san, get out of the way." Karasu's voice was cool and detached.
The singing stopped. Kyoumi stepped back. He went in to pick up the body of the little boy that lay in one futon. The duelist came up behind him and, without another word, gathered up the body of the little girl. Huh. Didn't expect that, either.
They carried the final two bodies to the house the Asahina had prepared and set them inside. The Kakita maiden followed. The two Doji joined them at the site, along with his squadmates. The Asahina nodded to indicate he was prepared. Shireikan Nozomi gave the order.
The building was put to the torch to the sound of chanting. No warmth from this fire.
After the shugenja had performed all proper rites of purification, of the burned house and bodies, and of those who had performed this grim duty, the group was again set upon their way, leaving behind nothing but a pillar of smoke and the haunting refrain of some sweet melody the duelist played while they packed up to leave. Hopefully the delay would not cost them further.
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Humph. The girl still isn't talking. Uzen set down a pile of firewood next to the fire. There should be enough now to last the night. For the first four days the Kakita girl wouldn't shut up, a constant source of silly stories, endless questions, and snatches of song. She never stopped. Now? Nothing. Fat lot of good that will do in court...a poet that won't talk. The Nikutai watched her lure a small mouse out of the pile of brush, coaxing it to come sit on her hand and petting it gently.
The Crow, watching her, snorted, but said nothing, instead smoothing the polishing cloth along the length of his perfect Kakita blade. On the ground beside him was a closed wooden case the length of his forearm, clasped with metal. The Daidoji had noticed it before. It was odd. The duelist laid the polishing cloth on the case and inspected the metal of his katana carefully before reseathing it. He never lets that box out of his sight. Wonder what's in it.
The Asahina was over with the Shireikan and his Gunso, Kashiwaki, at the general's personal fire. Being briefed on the Court strategy, no doubt. Hopefully it would be straight forward. Simple. Uzen knew such things rarely were, but surely the Lion and Crab would see that that they had held. That will be enough, won't it?
He heard a series of rapid clicks. The Doji was at the abacus again. He had a large ledger spread out before him and was carefully recopying the notes that he had made during the day. Click. Click click. Click. Click click click. The sound drew Jurai's attention. This should be fun.
"Doji-sama," said the young, enthusiastic hohei. "What are you counting? Rocks? Leaves? More of the second here, on the outskirts of the Mori. More of the first in five more days, when we get to the foot of the mountains. See no reason to count them, either way."
The Doji looked coolly at the teen. "I am re-estimating. The reports I receive are generally accurate, but there are holes in the coverage. Messengers are late. Extensions and delays. Conflicting details. Being able to observe conditions in the field greatly improves the accuracy of my calculations. There may be places where I can improve the supply chain to the northeast villages. ”
The kid looks as confused as if the Doji just sprouted wings and invited him to dance. Uzen laughed aloud. Then, deciding that the girl had been silent enough, decided to go find some amusement for himself. He went over to sit down next to her.
“So, Kakita-san. You’ve been quiet.”
She looked up, and the mouse that had been perched on her knee scampered off. She blushed and turned her head away.
The Daidoji scratched his chin. Hum. Need to shave before we get to the mountain. “That won’t do for court, you know. I know you’ve got plenty of words in there. You’re going to need them.”
The girl spoke softly, her voice unused for some time, “You’re…right. I’ve been sent in to sing, haven’t I? A nightingale who can’t sing is just another sparrow.”
Uzen snorted. “Sparrow? You definitely don’t want to be one of those. I’ve seen Sparrow lands. Much better off in your pretty Kakita cage, Nightingale. We’ll keep you safe.”
“Hai, Uzen-sama,” Kyoumi finally forced out a smile and nodded. Then she got up and began dancing the woman’s dance around the camp…picking up, putting away, asking everyone how they were feeling and inquiring about the journey ahead. Eh. She’ll do fine.
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A single moment of peace by the fire, it seemed...and then it was over. The ground, which had been warmed by the heat of his body, suddenly grew cold beneath him. A few plaintive crickets would normally be crying out to find a mate this time of the season, but the forest grew silent. Even the high pitched bat or the soft hoot of the owl was beyond his senses now. It was not the sound, it was the sudden lack of it that made him stop short.
Suriko was alert, ready, with her weapon in her hands. She gave the signal. Uzen slowly stood and also moved towards his, while still trying to find the point source of the emptiness. He nudged Eyro, who also stood. The courtiers and artisans fell silent, confused, as they scanned the fire-lit twilight.
There was no other murmur of warning before the flood was upon them. Erupting almost out of the earth before them came a great growth of red tentacles, ragged with thorns and flailing out in every direction. From the middle of the eruption, a giant, grotesque mockery of a woman stepped, almost dancer-like, from the thorns. She..It...was ten feet in height, at least, with six great horns curling from its head. Its skin was red and scaled, nearly metallic in luster, and its four arms were each ended in long, black claws.
It turned away from its tentacled nest towards the firelight and the prey that awaited it.
Such creatures were rare, even in the fiercest battlegrounds. But the night stories told by hardened warriors remembered the name.
Kyoso.
First a flash. A streak of black and blue, moving faster than seemed humanly possible, darted towards it. Of course. The duelist. Too late to tell him its hide turns blades...
Karasu's sword slashed across the creature's midsection, but barely left a scratch. It knocked him aside as if he were some sort of stinging insect. The Crow went flying back through the air, his sword tumbling to the ground.
Crack! A single shot rang out through the through the twilight as Sumiko fired her rifle. The pellet tore into the oni's skin, infuriating it, but one shot was insufficient to kill it. Only the sentry on duty dared keep their weapon loaded for the watch. But even that wound was insufficient to stop the oni. It instead reached towards the Doji who watched it approach with stunned horror. His yojimbo drew her blade, but she would not reach him in time.
"Run, Doji-sama!" Jurai threw himself up between the Doji and the Kyoso's claws without a second's hesitation. The Doji did as bid, scrambling away from the oni for his life as the Kyoso ripped Jurai's throat from his neck with its claws and cast him aside. Uzen heard a cry of pain and a grunt as the courtier fell, but the oni had at least averted its gaze from him. His yojimbo had drawn her blade and stepped in to protect her charge, but the Daidoji bushi knew she didn't stand a chance.
Uzen longed for his own rifle, but knew there would be no time to load it. He shouted, "Aim for the eye! " He reached for his bow to do just that when he heard the sound of fierce chanting and a cry of pain from behind him. The Shireikan! He turned to realize the mass of tentacles was no inanimate nest, but instead a living, moving thing that crawled over the ground towards the general's fire, where she had been meeting with Hisato and Kashiwaki. The Asahina's prayers had thrown some sort of shielding around the three of them, but his shield was buckling against the force of the fury of just the first few branches of the thing. It would never hold were its full weight brought to bear.
"Eyro! Detonate! For the glory of the Crane!" Kashiwaki gave the order, and stepped around Hisato's shield, throwing himself onto the thorns that were lashing against it and drawing his katana. Again and again the blade slashed, even as more thorned tentacles wrapped around the gunso's ankles, then his legs. It took only seconds before the thorns had torn Kashiwaki apart.
But seconds was enough. While Uzen was turning back and lining up his shot on the Kyoso, he heard a gruff cry. There was no time for planting the careful charge. No time for caution. Eyro had drawn a twig from the fire and swept up the gaijin pepper barrel that he kept so carefully guarded. Then, lighting the barrel, he charged straight for the living thornbeast, diving into the center of the mass.
BOOM!
The sound was deafening. After that the only sound he could hear is the ringing in his ears. Shukujo's chime...My Champion draws the blade... Uzen turned back to face the other oni in time to see the Doji yojimbo fall. He could not tell if she was alive or dead. He drew and fired his bow twice on the Kyoso as it reached for Suriko, for the one who had hurt it, as Suriko desperately tried to reload. Uzen's arrows flew and impacted the oni solidly in the throat, but the arrow tumbled away. They were insufficient to even break the oni's skin. It was not enough.
The oni tore Suriko's body in two, dropping each half to the ground.
Already gone...the last...
Nightingale!
The Kyoso seemed to laugh as it turned to menace the Crane girl. The girl dove and rolled away from the Kyoso's deadly grasp, scrambling out of reach with surprising agility, but the oni turned and danced towards her. Nightingale has spirit, I'll give her that. She raced towards a tree and started to climb.
But the Oni was too large. Uzen dropped the bow and grabbed his spear, whirled and braced between the Kyoso and the Kakita. I can't stop it. He could see the red and leering face baring down on him, and, even higher above him, trapped up in the branches, a pair of pretty gray eyes. Maybe if she reaches the top of the tree, she really will turn into a nightingale. Maybe she will escape.... Red hot fire tore into him as the Kyoso carelessly dug its claws into his belly as it pursued the girl. Fly away, nightingale....The image made him want to laugh. So he did, a mocking laughter to spite the night.
His laughter broke the oni's fixation on the girl and it turned its head down to look at him with beady black eyes. Something...Uzen couldn't hear what, caused the Kyoso to turn again and then he felt, more than heard, the vibrations of a powerful shockwave. It rippled through the body of the oni like the vibration of a gong. The kyoso's hand let his broken body slide from its claws as its knees buckled and it fell to the ground.
Broken and discarded, still Uzen was able to fall where he could see the one who had saved them.
The Crow.
The duelist stood with face composed for perfect focus, arm outstretched, directed at the oni's head.
And in his hand, the duelist held a single pistol.
The faces came closer. Good not to die alone. Old Crow, so serious....can't hear what he says. Stately Crane...examining my wound despite his own... Pretty Nightingale...so sweet, she takes my hand.
I've heard this story before....my mother told me...Crow and Nightingale and Crane...
The words were bloody on his lips.
"Remember me."
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Mirumoto Kenchio scanned the path up the mountain for the twentieth time this watch. There was little else to do, and little enough to see, though things were more exciting now that the first delegations had arrived for Winter Court. The first Winter Court of his lifetime, certainly. He looked forward to it. The music. The storytelling. The fireworks.
But duty first. He scanned the path up the mountain for the twenty-first time, and nudged his partner to take a look.
There were only six of them now. A white war horse led the way, his rider a powerfully built woman in armor of silver and blue. Her back banners were clearly emblazoned with the mon of the Crane, her rank clearly signaled. Behind her, two horses carried a litter, and a shugenja in white and blue rode beside it. Behind the litter, another pony, ridden by a stately courtier who sat nearly doubled over in weariness and pain. And, trailing them all, two strings of horses, lightly loaded with supplies. One string was led by a tall, dour, black-haired bushi who walked without armor. The other was led by a pretty brown-haired girl.
"Hum. I expected more of them," Natsuo observed.
"Send a message. The Crane delegation has arrived."