L5r - scroll 07 - The Lion Read online

  As he sat on a log at the edge of the wooded foothills, Ikoma Bentai strode up and seated himself beside the ronin lord.

  "The Lion have attacked the Crane," Bentai said. "Kyuden Doji has fallen, and the Kakita cities are burning. I just got word from one of our scouts. You were right about these former Scorpions. They do have their uses. Assuming they can be trusted."

  "I trust every man and woman with me," Toturi said, "but you and Toku most of all."

  Bentai nodded. "Thank you, Lord. What shall we do about this?"

  Toturi stood. "We'll have to put a stop to it."

  "What about mopping up the rest of the Crab stragglers?"

  "It will have to wait," Toturi replied. "We can't let the great houses destroy each other. We'll need the strength of every clan to defeat Fu Leng."

  "Do you think so, Lord?" Bentai asked. "What about the Crab? Surely they've been corrupted beyond redemption. Other houses have been tainted as well. Perhaps we should let the clans fight each other. Maybe it's best if the ranks of evil are thinned before the final battle—whenever it comes."

  The Black Lion shook his head and his dark eyes gleamed with the light of distant campfires. "Are you so sure that only the evil will be killed? Are you so certain that good will win that you think we don't need to aid our friends?"

  "No, Lord. But are you so sure that, if we cross the mountains, we'll be able to tell friend from foe?"

  "Nothing is ever sure, Bentai. Nevertheless, we must try."

  Ikoma Bentai nodded. "Hai, Lord. You are right." He smiled grimly. "As always."

  A faraway look glazed Toturi's eyes. "Not always."

  Together, they charted a course back through the foothills to Beiden Pass, and from there into the lands of the Crane beyond.

  In the morning, Toturi's army broke camp and marched north. They encountered other Crab stragglers along the way. Those who did not fight them to the death, Toturi offered the same choice that he had given to Misae: to join his forces, or to return to their homelands with only one sword and some provisions. Most chose to return to their people, but some few bolstered Toturi's ranks. Two committed seppuku. Toturi had Bentai stand as second during the ceremonies to honor both samurai's bravery.

  By the time the mighty army reached the craggy entrance of Roka Beiden, Misae and the other new recruits fit right in with Toturi's irregulars. They marched up the trail solemnly, until snow capped the rocks and the trees fell away on either side. The path they traveled was well worn, the main route from the southwestern portion of Rokugan to the capital and lands beyond in the northeast.

  Despite this, the road was all but deserted. War and Fu Leng's plague had taken their toll on the prosperous land, and few people ventured far from their homes anymore. The crimson stains of battle still covered the canyon walls of the pass. The rain and snow of winter had not yet washed the rocks clean.

  Toturi gazed at the remnants of carnage not long past. Every drop of blood tells a story, he thought. It pained him to think of the sadness of those tales.

  As they neared the pass itself, Tcturi spotted a large contingent of Unicorn holding the broad defile. The horse lords had constructed a barricade and gate to protect the road. Toturi smiled. Roka Beiden was in good hands. The Unicorn Clan was loyal to the land of Rokugan and the people who lived there.

  Toturi, Toku, Bentai, and several of the Black Lion's bodyguards approached the sentries at the head of the pass.

  The Unicorn guards milled about as the ronin contingent rode up. One Unicorn left and soon returned with a high-ranking samurai. Toturi recognized the man as Shinjo Yasamura.

  Yasamura was a serious-faced warrior with a mustache and a small triangle of a beard tucked below his lower lip. The Unicorn commander rode a tall, white stallion—clearly one of the best animals from a superior line of Unicorn steeds. Yasamura nodded gravely at Toturi as the Black Lion rode up to the barricade.

  "Kon-nichiwa, Yasamura-san," Toturi said.

  "Kon-nichiwa, Toturi-san," Yasamura replied, bowing slightly. "What business do you have, bringing your army here?"

  The tone of his question startled Toturi, but the ronin lord ignored its disrespect. He answered politely, "I have business in the east, fighting the enemies of the empire. We would be honored if you, or some of your samurai, would join us in our mission."

  "I have few enough to hold this pass in dark times like these, Toturi-san," Yasamura said.

  Toturi nodded. "I understand. Then open the gates, and we'll be on our way."

  "I cannot do that, Toturi-san."

  The Black Lion felt the blood rising within his body. "Cannot?" he asked, holding his voice under tight rein.

  "Cannot," Yasamura repeated.

  "I fought beside Utaku Kamoko to free Beiden Pass from the claws of the tainted Crab. How is it that you deny me access to that very route now? I am sure that neither Kamoko nor your daimyo would approve."

  "My lords have no say in the matter, Toturi-san," Yasamura said, shifting uncomfortably on his ornate saddle. "This order comes from the emperor himself."

  Toturi raised his black eyebrows. "The emperor?"

  "No army is to pass through Roka Beiden," Yasamura said.

  "Then the order is not directed toward me personally," Toturi said good-naturedly.

  Yasamura kept his face impassive. "I couldn't say, Toturi-san."

  Toturi smiled. "Yasamura, we've met before. We share many friends. You know me and aren't fool enough to believe the things said about me. You know I fight for the empire. Do not hinder this fight. Join me or, failing that, at least let me pass."

  Though the Unicorn's jaw remained set, his eyes sparkled with temptation at the thought. Then he mastered himself. "No, Toturi-sama. I cannot. I am bound to my daimyo and the emperor. You of all people should know that."

  The Black Lion nodded. "Hai, I understand." He turned his horse and rode back toward his army. Toku, Bentai, and Toturi's yojimbo did the same.

  "But, Master," Toku said when they were out of earshot of the Unicorn, "we could have overwhelmed them easily."

  "The evil in Rokugan is growing. The clans must come together rather than battling endlessly," Toturi said firmly. "I won't fight my friends. Not when there's another way."

  "Another way?" asked Bentai.

  "Yes," Toturi replied. "When I was young, I learned of a secret pass—known only to the Lion—through the mountains. It is difficult and dangerous." He paused and smiled. "But no more so than fighting against a well-entrenched Unicorn force with a fine commander."

  Bentai nodded and grunted his assent. "Where is this hidden path?"

  "North, a good journey from here. And, when we're through, it debouches in Lion lands. Let's hope that we don't meet Matsu Tsuko on the other side."

  "Hai," said Bentai. "Let's hope."

  "I've always wanted to meet Tsuko," piped Toku. "I hear she's one of the bravest samurai in all the land."

  Toturi and Bentai glanced at each other and laughed. Seeing I he puzzled look on Toku's face, Toturi added, "She's brave, all l ight. She's certainly not afraid of me—nor are her troops. And they'd be happy to prove it by cutting us to pieces if we meet."

  "But wasn't she engaged to your brother?" Toku asked.

  Bentai looked at his master, as if fearing that Toku's tongue might cost the lad his head. Toturi, though, merely grew distant. "Hai," the Black Lion said. "But that was a long time ago."

  "She blames Toturi for her lover's death," Bentai put in, "though our lord had nothing to do with it."

  "Indeed," Toturi added. "I'd have given anything to avoid becoming daimyo of the Lion."

  "You would have?" said Toku. "I thought everyone wanted to be a daimyo."

  Toturi shook his head. "Not 1.1 had much simpler dreams ... then."

  "What about now?" Toku asked.

  "Now I have duties that can't be ignored," said the Black Lion. "We should get going." He spurred his horse and rode through the ranks, conveying his new plan to the troops.r />
  "Think they'll go for it?" Toku whispered to Bentai.

  Bentai shot the young samurai a rough look. "Of course. They are samurai. And he is their lord."

  "I'd begun to think the master could persuade anyone to our cause," Toku said, "but that Unicorn resisted him easily enough."

  "Some minds are forever closed to the truth," Bentai replied. "Our master is no shugenja, winning people through spells and trickery. He relies on the power of his words for persuasion." The old general rubbed the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. "What I want to know, though, is how the emperor knew we were coming."

  ECHOES OF THUNDER

  Mifune stumbled, and the other Shintao monks ran downhill past him, trying to reach the small abandoned fort at the bottom of the defile. As he splashed face-first into a cold mud puddle in the middle of the path, Mifune doubted that he'd live to discover whether the ramshackle stronghold's defenses were adequate.

  It was not his nature to rail against his luck, but Mifune certainly had enough to curse about in the last few years. His lord Bayushi Shoju had been killed; that was bad enough. To also lose the young Scorpion heir at the same time was almost unbearable. Bayushi Dairu had been a good young man: strong, loyal, and well-loved by his mother, the current Empress Kachiko. Mifune had even participated as the priest in Dairu's gempuku ritual. Such a terrible loss!

  Hundreds of other Scorpions had been killed as well. Many of whom Mifune had known all their lives. Those that survived saw

  their clan stripped of its name, lands, and honor. The Scorpion were no more. All that were left were outcasts, ronin. Even monks of Scorpion heritage—like himself—were looked upon with suspicion. As he lay in the puddle amid his running brethren, Mifune wondered if the dead had been luckier than he.

  He heard the roar of the Shadowlands horde attacking the small band of Shinseists and thought, just for a moment, that it might be better to lie in the mud and surrender to cruel fate. As the thought crossed his mind, though, strong hands lifted him from the ground.

  "No time to rest, Brother," said a deep, melodious voice, "or Fu-Leng will flay your skin into parchment."

  Mifune scrambled to his feet and looked at his savior. The man wore a red and black kimono with a green traveling cloak pulled up over his head. In his hands, he carried a long wooden walking staff, the upper end of which had been carved into a flute. The stranger had joined the monks on their journey several days ago, well after Mifune and his brethren had escaped Yogo Junzo's purge of their temple.

  The priest didn't know much about the hooded man, though Mifune had noticed that the storyteller carried the daisho swords of a samurai beneath his weathered cloak. What really mattered, though, was that the stranger pulled his own weight during the journey, and even supplied the priests with foraged greens upon occasion. For this, and his thoughtful conversations around the campfire at night, the sojourner had earned the respect of his fellow travelers.

  The wanderer spun to face a ravenous boghound thundering toward them. The dog leapt, its phosphorescent jaws slavering for human flesh.

  The samurai-philosopher stepped aside and deftly smashed the center of his staff into the creature's neck.

  The boghound's spine snapped under the blow. The animal's body slumped into the mud, where it lay quivering for several long seconds. Then, it gave up the ghost.

  Mifune smiled. This man was no mere storyteller, as he and the other priests had supposed.

  "Well?" the Hooded Ronin asked. "What are you waiting for, priest? Run!"

  Mifune nodded a quick bow, and then shambled down the slope after his fellows. The samurai wanderer turned back to face t heir awful pursuers.

  As Mifune reached his comrades, though, he found another contingent of undead creatures waiting at the bottom of the hill. Skeletal faces leered over the earthen parapets that the Shinseists had hoped would shelter them. With a piercing scream, the .ibominations threw open the fort's bamboo gates and streamed out.

  "Back uphill!" the highest-ranking monk called. His fellows turned and ran, but the rotting horde caught the abbot and pulled him down. "Keep going! Don't. . . let . . . them catch .. . you!" the monk gasped as the fell warriors disemboweled him.

  Mifune turned from the awful sight and scrambled back up the path as quickly as he could.

  "Fools! Do you seek your own deaths?" the Hooded Ronin called. His staff smashed the head of a zombie. Then he used the rod's other end to parry the sword of an undead samurai.

  "We're surrounded!" Mifune shouted.

  The ronin cursed. "Then fight like samurai or die where you stand!" he said.

  Seeing they had no choice but combat or death, the monks cinched up their saffron robes and leapt into battle, using their bare hands and feet as weapons.

  The Hooded Ronin smiled. He had feared that the brethren might not be suited to combat, but clearly martial discipline had been part of their training. Even so, the odds against the group were terrible. They were outnumbered nearly two to one—and the ronin knew that he couldn't tip the balance the other way by himself.

  "For the glory of Amaterasu!" he cried.

  An undead horseman bore down on him, swinging a two-handed no-dachi. The great sword hummed and sparked red with fell magic as it cut through the air.

  For a moment, the Hooded Ronin considered ducking out of the horseman's way. The rider was clumsy, if powerful, and his mount lacked the maneuverability of a living horse. If the ronin did that, though, the horseman and his enchanted blade would surely make quick work of the monks.

  Steeling himself, the ronin pressed a hidden stud on his staff. A metal spear point popped out of the bottom end. The wanderer swung the blade up to meet his undead foe.

  The rotting samurai saw the danger and tried to chop off the spear point. The Hooded Ronin reacted quickly, dipping his weapon out of the way and then thrusting up as the sword past.

  The spear punctured the dead samurai's armor and breastbone. A look of surprise washed over the decaying face as the ronin lifted the monster off the back of the horse and up into the air. The wanderer spun, catapulting the undead horseman headfirst into the rocky cliff-face behind him. The creature's skull shattered, and its body slid down the rocks, leaving a long trail of gore.

  The bony horse reared and clouted the wanderer on the head with its front hooves.

  The Hooded Ronin dropped his staff and staggered back, dazed, as the undead steed came at him. He drew his katana, barely in time.

  Iron hooves struck down toward the renin's skull. He ducked to the side and chopped hard with his sword. Steel bit deep into the undead horse's neck, shattering vertebrae; the rotting head flopped to one side.

  Though nearly headless, the monster continued trying to trample its foe. Black blood spurted from the monster's gaping neck wound. The foul ichor hissed and smoked as it hit the ground.

  The Hooded Ronin swung his sword once more. He sliced cleanly through the remaining neck muscle, and the horse's head splashed into the mud. The mangy body toppled and moved no more.

  With his sleeve, the ronin wiped sweat from his eyes. Sadly, his hard-won victory had not turned the tide of battle at all. Undead •..imurai and skeletons plodded inexorably among the unarmed pi iests, inflicting terrible wounds. Several monks already lay dead in the cold mud.

  A sound from uphill caught the ronin's attention. He turned .ind saw more undead creatures, including a rotting ogre, shambling toward the melee.

  "Against the cliffs, Brothers!" the ronin cried. "Keep your hacks to the stone and defend each other!" He ran to the monks ,md cut down the two zombies nearest him.

  The remaining monsters swarmed around the humans, encircling them, pressing them back against the cliff. The rock face was as tall as three men and too steep to climb. Anyone attempting to do so would be instantly cut down by the swarming undead.

  "Though we die, make our enemies pay!" Mifune called. "Damnation take these monsters and their evil masters!" He lashed out with a powerful kick and cr
ushed a skeleton's ribs.

  Undead reinforcements arrived. A decaying ogre woman picked up a large rock and tossed it into the midst of the beleaguered humans. The stone crushed the head of the monk nearest the Hooded Ronin, splashing the wanderer's cloak with brains. The ronin wished he had taken the time to retrieve his spear.

  "That monster can pick us off one by one!" Mifune hissed.

  The ronin nodded grimly, his labored breath puffing out in great, white clouds. He stabbed at the zombie nearest him, but it stumbled back out of the way, content to hem the humans in and let the ogre dispose of them at her leisure. The Hooded Ronin raised his katana high, preparing to charge the horde one final time. Perhaps he could cut his way through and buy the monks an escape. At the least, he would make the enemy pay dearly. He looked for the weakest link in the enemy line.

  Suddenly, a rain of red-fletched arrows fell among the undead. Four pierced unliving eyes, smashing skulls and splattering black brains. Two more shattered skeletal breastbones and the rib cages attached to them.

  The undead troops wheeled around, confused by the sudden attack.

  The cold air resounded with an echoing, "Banzai!"

  A shadow leapt out of the woods atop the cliff and arced behind the ogre woman. A fiery blade flashed in the afternoon sunlight. The head of the monster fell from its shoulders, and the giant body toppled into the mud.

  The priests' rescuer landed lightly on his feet where, moments before, the ogre had stood. A smile creased his handsome face, and his orange and gold kimono sparkled in the afternoon sunlight. Fiery birds fluttered on the kimono's silk. Shiba Ujimitsu, the Phoenix Champion, stepped forward and felled two more zombies before they had a chance to move.

  "For Rokugan!" the Hooded Ronin cried. He decapitated the undead samurai nearest him and kicked the body into a skeleton. The monster shattered into fragments of bone.

  The monks roared their approval and, with renewed fury, dived into the mass of undead.

  Ujimitsu moved like a living whirlwind, seeming to be everywhere at once. Where his sword flashed, undead fell like rice before a sickle.