Opening Moves
by Shawn Carman &
One year while whiling away his
free time in the libraries of the Akodo, Kaneka had
come upon a legend entitled, Persistence.
It was the tale of the rise, fall, redemption, and death of Hida Kisada. The most striking
part of the tale, the part that still lodged itself in Kaneka’s memory, was the
writer’s description of life on the Kaiu Wall. The
most deadly threat upon the wall, the most dangerous enemy one could face, was
silence.
It
was not the overwhelming attacks by goblin hordes or the occasion mad charge by
a gigantic oni recently emerged from the Pit that
truly tested one’s mettle. A warrior adapted even to such unusual threats,
given time. It was the days of patient waiting, when no threat came at all, when
a soldier merely stood his post at the edge of the wall, staring out into the Shadowlands. At times like that, you could do nothing but
wonder what horrible foe would come next. The things your own mind would create
could sap courage and hope from your soul more efficiently than any monster.
The wall might stand strong and whole, but if a warrior looked to the right or
left he would see it stretching off forever in the distance. He would wonder
if, elsewhere in the lands of the Crab, his brethren were being overrun and
rendering his vigil here irrelevant. All the while, the writer claimed, a Crab
could feel the Shadowlands watching him, feeding off
his fear and using it to fashion more demons.
Kaneka
had found the words interesting, but he had always wondered the truth of them.
Almost six years ago when he rode to the City of the Lost he had found the Shadowlands an intimidating place but had not known the
depths of fear and hopelessness the Crab author had described. In the Shadowlands, he had constantly been surrounded by enemies.
He had accepted early on that he would die, and felt no regret. His only
comrades had been clay soldiers and three siblings that had been, until that
time, his greatest rivals. There was no time to dwell upon his situation – urgency
had given him focus. Here, guarding the Wall at the Emperor’s command, the mind
would sometimes wander. Though he ignored most of his own darker musings, he
had seen the hopelessness building in the eyes of his soldiers. He saw the
burnt, dead look in the eyes of veteran Crab soldiers. The Kaiu
Wall was not merely a battlefield, it was the anvil
upon which the Shadowlands hammer fell. Those who
stood between were either forged into emotionless weapons or broken.
For
that, at least, Kaneka felt some small measure of gratitude toward his brother
for sending him. Those of his soldiers who did not die or go mad during their
time here would return better warriors for it. Not that Naseru
had such a thing in mind when he “assigned” him here, of course, but in a place
like this the Shogun preferred to dwell upon the positive.
A
whistling sound rose in the distance, causing Kaneka to look up curiously. The
Crab soldiers all around him sprang into action, hurrying to bolster the wall
or running toward the signal. The Crab had many signals for attack, never
relying on a single one in case the Shadowlands began
to mimic their signals to weaken defenses. When Kaneka had asked the Crab to
reveal their system of signals, their meaning, and how they chose to use which
at what time they had refused. His troops were here as reserves – if they truly
wished to know what was happening they were to simply follow the Crab’s lead.
Kaneka did not like being in such a subordinate position, but he could not
argue that was exactly what the Emperor had commanded him to be.
“Kaneka-sama,” a
The
time for waiting was over.
“Move
out,” Kaneka barked to the dozen samurai around him. They all broke into a
rapid run, moving east along the besieged area. “What enemies, Nizoru?” he demanded.
“Mixed,
my lord,” Nizoru answered as they ran. “Primarily
ogre and bakemono, but there are a handful of oni holding the rear. The Hiruma
were unfamiliar with this particular breed.”
Kaneka
swore under his breath. On the Wall, unidentified enemies were always the most
deadly. There was no way to know what an oni could do
until it had killed a few people. Sometimes, he could almost sense a malevolent
delight from the Shadowlands itself, glaring upon the
offending Wall each time its inhabitants hurled themselves against it. He
suspected that one day, when Daigotsu and Iuchiban had been destroyed, the Crab would discover that
some far greater evil existed deeper in those wretched lands. On that day he
wondered if even he would have courage to keep fighting.
“Call
the reserves to reinforce the third and fourth sections,” he ordered Nizoru. “They will not break through to threaten the rest
of the wall.” He pointed to one of the other guards running alongside him.
“Drop behind the Wall and support the Hida in case
anything breaks through their lines.”
The
fifth section was the centermost portion of the Kaiu
Wall between the fifth and sixth watchtowers. The area between those two towers
was Kaneka’s command, the portion Hida Kuon had reluctantly assigned to him upon his arrival. It
had not been a pleasant task, for there were many among the Crab who bore the
Shogun considerable ill will for his role in the Yasuki War some years ago. The
fact that Kaneka was acting on the Emperor’s orders did not help matters much;
the Crab did not appreciate the implication that they could not handle their
duty well enough alone. In the months since then, the Hida
had not come to like Kaneka, but they respected and trusted him enough that
this small section of the Wall was now left mostly to his defense. Kuon had even grown to begrudgingly respect Kuon enough to give him a jade weapon to keep for his own
defense – though it was only a knife. A handful of Crab still ranked among his
forces, of course, all hand-picked by Lord Kuon to
make sure the Shogun’s soldiers did not make some grave mistake in the Wall’s
defense.
The
fifth section was a war zone. The wall of archers atop the sixth section halted
their merciless assault on the assembled Shadowlands
forces only long enough to allow Kaneka and his guard through, then closed
ranks and resumed firing a seemingly endless volley of arrows into the massed
creatures below. Kaneka’s guard formed a protective perimeter around him and
they all moved forward as one, crashing into the flank of a large group of bakemono like a tsunami upon the shore. “Danjuro!” Kaneka shouted. “Sobu! Rally to me!”
The
two lieutenants fought through the ranks toward him. Shiba
Danjuro’s armor shone as brilliant as the sunrise,
while Hida Sobu’s was dark
and jagged, as menacing as a moonless night in the wilderness. The two
lieutenants could not be more different. “Report!” he commanded.
“The
bakemono are attacking in waves,” Danjuro
shouted over the clamor. “They are attempting to force a weakness in our
defense so that the ogres can break through our defense!”
“The
oni are not attacking,” Sobu
added. “They wait in reserve!”
Kaneka
nodded and struck with his blade, cutting through three charging goblins with a
single strike. “Be prepared to order your men back from the forward edge,” he
commanded. “When they attack, it will come quickly.”
As
if on command, a gigantic creature with a body like a bulbous radish hurled
itself up over the wall’s edge and crashed down onto the stone. Most of
Kaneka’s men escaped, but a pair of Legionnaires were crushed by the thing’s
vast bulk. The beast danced about on three stump-like legs, releasing an eerie,
childlike laughter as it viewed the carnage it had wrought. Despite the chaos,
Kaneka could not help but think it looked like a fat child stomping in puddles
after the rain.
“Fire!”
he shouted.
His
command was followed almost instantly by a hail of arrows from the sixth and
fourth sections. In the span of a second, the beast was riddled with dozens of
flaming arrows. There were a handful of fiery assaults that could only come
from shugenja, and the beast’s putrid flesh burst into flame. There was a
high-pitched keening sound as the creature burned. Kaneka paled when he
realized that heard the creature’s laughter grow louder.
“It’s
a trap!” Sobu shouted.
The
creature shuddered and died. As it did, the bulbous mass that comprised its
body ruptured. Something black and long-legged leapt from inside it. It moved
too fast for the eye to follow, but it flittered across the top of the Wall and
disappeared somewhere to Kaneka’s right. Kaneka had little time to search for
it, as three ogres appeared at the breach, climbing up to join the fray. “Fire!” Kaneka shouted again, pointing to the creatures with
his blade.
Even
as his orders were carried out, something slammed into Kaneka’s side with
breathtaking force. One of his guards had leapt upon him, pinning his arms to
the ground and holding a blade to the Shogun’s throat. A trickle of his blood
ran down the blade’s length and onto the man’s hand. The guard’s eyes were
solid black, just as the oni’s body had been. “Kill
Shogun!” the man rasped in a singsong voice. His words reverberated oddly, as
if coming from the depths of a well.
“Danjuro!” a voice shouted. The possessed samurai looked up
for a moment, its blade never leaving the flesh of Kaneka’s throat. At the edge
of his vision, Kaneka could see Shiba Danjuro pointing at him. “Do not move, Danjuro-san,”
the
Kaneka
scowled in confusion, opening his mouth to reply, then
he realized the
“No
Danjuro!” the demon croaked, looking down at Kaneka
in confusion. “Shogun!”
“Idiot
beast,” Danjuro spat. “I am the Shogun!” he held his
blade in a defensive posture.
The
creature seemed to hesitate, then glanced back down at
Kaneka, eyes narrowing. In an instant, Kaneka knew the creature was about to
kill him regardless, but Danjuro had given him the
moment of hesitation he needed. He drew the jade knife from his obi and drove
it into the creature’s side. It rolled off him, shrieking, and lunged toward Danjuro.
Hida Sobu appeared at Danjuro’s side, staggering the possessed samurai atop him
with a devastating blow to the skull with his tetsubo.
Kaneka could tell from the way the guard’s head moved that its skull had been
shattered. Still, it fought on, heedless of the damage its stolen body had
taken. It knocked Sobu away with a heavy backhand,
and pulled back to end Danjuro’s life. Kaneka hurled
his jade dagger at the creature, striking it full in the chest. The demon
hissed in pain and fell backwards from the blow. Sobu,
now on his feet again, fell upon his possessed kinsmen with a flurry of tetsubo blows. The sounds of breaking bone and shrieking
demon followed for several seconds thereafter, and then silence. Gathering his
wits, Kaneka looked out at the approaching hordes and saw a dozen other oni like the first.
•
The
quarters Kaneka had used for the past few months were hardly lavish, as was the
Shogun’s preference. The Crab had little care for comfort in their military
outposts, a philosophy that Kaneka found quite refreshing. He had long been of
the opinion that unnecessary luxuries led to weakness, and he would not
tolerate weakness in himself or in his men. It was almost unfortunate the
distrust the Crab held for him, considering how similar they were in both
tactics and personal philosophy. The empty, stone walls of his small chambers
helped him focus, helped him remember his purpose. For that, he was grateful.
“You
summoned me, my lord?”
Kaneka
looked up and gestured for the speaker to enter. “You were the first to join me
after I arrived in
“Yes, Shogun.”
“You
have served me well and faithfully since that time,” Kaneka added. “You will
assume command of Shiba Hayako’s
legions, assuming the rank of shireikan. She fell in
battle today.” He looked up and fixed the warrior with a stare. “Try to honor
her warriors as she did.”
“I
will, Kaneka-sama,” the warrior replied with a bow.
He lingered for a moment after Kaneka returned with a nod, causing him to
glance back up and raise his eyebrows questioning. “Forgive my impertinence, my
lord, but there was an Imperial messenger asking to see you in the court
chamber I fear our hosts were… proving difficult.”
Kaneka
barely suppressed a smirk. The Crab cared even less for Imperial sycophants
than he did. He considered leaving the messenger to suffer for a while, but
decided against it. It would only sour Kuon’s
attitude toward him even further. “Tell him I will see him now,” he said,
rolling a scroll tightly. “And please prepare these for delivery.”
“At
once, my lord,” Nizoru answered, reaching out to
accept the scrolls with another bow.
Kaneka
held the scroll for a second longer. “This is a letter regarding Hayako’s death, as well as commendations to Shiba Mirabu for both you and Danjuro for your service. Impress upon the messenger that I
expect this message to arrive intact and rather quickly.”
“Of
course,” Nizoru said. “Will there be anything else,
my lord?”
The
Shogun sat quietly for a few moments. “How many men did we lose today, Nizoru?”
“Seventeen,
Shogun,” the
Kaneka
nodded and waved the warrior away. New recruits arrived every day, as they had
been for years. His army would not want for soldiers, though he regretted the
loss of so many good men. It was a good death, one met in sacrifice to the
Empire, but it was death nonetheless, in a war that was not his to fight. The
Crab were more than capable of holding the Wall
without his aid. If his soldiers must die in battle, let that battle mean
something and bring glory to the title of Shogun.
After
a moment’s introspection, Kaneka sensed someone approaching his door. “Enter,”
he said loudly when the silhouette appeared outside his shoji screen.
The
screen slid open and a tall, robust man with a neat topknot stepped into the
chamber. “Greetings, great Shogun,” he offered with a wide smile and an
excessively gracious bow.
“Greetings,
lowly messenger,” Kaneka said, raising an eyebrow. “What news from Toshi Ranbo?”
The
messenger blinked for a moment. “I am Otomo Shujito,” he continued. “My associate Kakita
Munemori-sama asked me to bring you news from the
capitol.”
“I
assumed as much,” Kaneka said irritably. “Cease wasting my time and deliver
your message.”
Shujito frowned. “As you wish,” he said finally. “I have
brought a collection of scrolls summarizing events in the northern Empire. Munemori-sama thought perhaps you might be somewhat out of
touch, so far removed from civilized society.”
Kaneka
turned slowly to face the messenger. “You might wish to let Hida
Kuon know how far we are from ‘civilized society.’ I
am certain he would find your comments enlightening.”
“Come
now, Shogun, we both know you were sent here because the Emperor fears your
great power and cunning,” chuckled Shujito, gesturing
at the stark chambers. “I can scarcely imagine an individual such as yourself being housed in such a place. The Crab do not appreciate you. Why do you defend them?”
“Because
I am a guest in their house, and I have fought by their side,” Kaneka said in a
low, quiet voice, “Speak ill of them again and I will cut your tongue from your
head and throw you over the wall. The scent of your blood will draw predators
quickly, so pray that you bleed to death first.” He smiled, but it was not a
pleasant expression.
“I
am… I apologize, Kaneka-sama,” the man said, paling
visibly. “I… I don’t understand. Munemori told me
you… you were one of us.”
“An
ally but not a sycophant who views himself as better than the man who preserve
his own decadent way of life,” Kaneka said. “I hold the Empire’s best interests
at heart, but that does not mean I will suffer fools. If you cannot see the
debt we all owe the Crab, then surely I would do the Empire a favor by
relieving them of the need to protect you.”
“Yes,
of course,” the messenger stammered. He fell to his knees, pressing his
forehead to the floor in a show of humility. “Forgive me, Kaneka-sama.”
“Earn
my forgiveness,” he sneered, returning to his small writing table. “What news
do you bring from Munemori?” he asked again.
Shujito licked his lips and rose, straightening his
clothing. “You are of course aware of the challenge the Emperor has issued to Iuchiban.”
“Hyperbole,”
Kaneka said with a wave of his hand. “We both know Naseru
does not actually expect Iuchiban to respond,
although it would be to his benefit if the Bloodspeaker
did so. Iuchiban was defeated twice when the clans
allied against him. No one truly expects Iuchiban to
repeat the mistakes of the past so easily, especially my brother. No, that
proclamation was merely to bolster the spirits of his subjects than anything
else. Iuchiban will attack when he chooses, not when
we do. Yet the Emperor knows he cannot stand idle as the Bloodspeaker
plans – he must do something, or at least appear to be doing something.”
“True
enough,” Shujito answered. “Appearances are quite
important. Thus, is it not true that the Shogun be by his Emperor’s side in the
event the Bloodspeaker arrives?”
Kaneka
reclined for a moment and considered the notion. “I was banished here because
the Emperor views me as a threat,” Kaneka said, “and he was not completely
inaccurate in that belief. He dispatched me to guard the Wall so that I would
be far from Imperial concerns. I do not think he would be pleased to see my
return.”
“But
with all respect, Lord Shogun, nothing larger than a pack of goblins has
managed to pass the wall since your arrival here,” Shujito
returned. “Could it not be said that your mission was a success and that now
the best way for you to defend the Empire is to support your Emperor’s
challenge? Has not Lord Kuon vowed that the breaches
of the past shall not be repeated? Would it not be a gesture of the highest
respect to place your faith in the Hida lord’s oath?”
The Otomo spread his hands, then
folded them within his sleeves.
Kaneka
frowned. “Why defy the Emperor so openly?” Kaneka asked. “What would going to Toshi Ranbo accomplish? At least
I can do some good here, as I wait for my opportunity.” Kaneka silently paced
the room, considering the possibilities. “Yet if I appear with my forces in Toshi Ranbo, claiming to have
arrived at the Emperor’s orders, Naseru has only two
choices. He can support my claim and tacitly free me from my exile here, or he
can denounce me for disobedience… in which case he would look foolish for
sending away his Shogun when he expects an attack from the Emperor’s greatest
enemy. He would demonstrate an inability to control his subjects, and
ultimately would be forced to deal with me through force.” He rubbed his chin
thoughtfully.
“With
the Legions spread so thin hunting Iuchiban, force is
not an option for him,” Shujito said.
“I
know,” Kaneka replied. “Perhaps I could even be of some service in that regard,
helping my brother protect his ill-defended city.” The
Shogun smiled faintly. “The Crane and Lion are my brother’s closest allies, but
I doubt they would support him if I occupied Toshi Ranbo. Kurohito has faced me
before – if I do not threaten the Emperor he would be reluctant to risk his
Crane against me again. As for the Lion… I doubt they
would readily oppose me.”
Shujito raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You consider your
forces a match for the Crane and Lion? I was given to understand you arrived in
Crab lands with only a few hundred at your command.”
Kaneka
glanced at the man in disgust. “Don’t be a fool. Over five years maintaining my
camps, with only a few hundred at my command? I have limited my command to a
few hundred at a time. I train my soldiers, then send
them back to their posts. Since I arrived here, I have gradually sent word for
all those who have served me to return to my armies. I have nearly three
thousand
“You
have used your time of exile well, Lord Shogun,” Shujito
said, impressed.
“I
do not waste time, Otomo,” he replied. “Now do not
waste yours. I have need of your services.”
“Whatever
you ask, my lord.”
Kaneka
sat at his table once more, and began writing a letter to his allies in Toshi Ranbo…