L5r - scroll 03 - The Crane (33 page)

Behind him, the Daidoji guardsmen staggered back, drawing their swords and attempting to close the great gates of the seaside palace. They were too late. A flood of undead pushed open the Crane gates, blocking their passage with the

dead bodies of the Kakita that had manned the walls.

Hoturi's troops were inside the palace walls. Soon, there would be no survivors of their attack.

Uji slashed a foe's helm, decapitating him. "Fight them!" he snarled to his samurai, cutting down another of the un-dead madmen. "Do not despair! We are stronger! Fight!"

Slowly, his men rallied to him. They gave their strong right arms to his service.

A Kakita samurai stood his ground against twenty un-dead. His bright sword flashed as he cut through them one at a time. Still, their numbers were tremendous. With no sense of honor or timing, they threw themselves on the man. The weight of their bodies bore him to the ground. Within seconds, only a few pieces of him remained, tied together by the scraps that had once been his clothing.

A bloody mist rose around the monsters. Through it, Uji peered out the gate. There, he glimpsed the black steed tearing open bodies with fangs and hooves. On its back, Hoturi cut down Daidoji as they threw themselves against him. Only sheer desperation gave his men the strength to fight. Soon, desperation would not be enough to save their lives. Something had to be done before the madman that smiled with Hoturi's face had closed all avenues of escape.

With an angry yell, Uji charged out the gate and raced down the road toward Kuwanan and Hoturi.

"Are you still moving, Brother?" Hoturi's perfect voice called over the shrieks of his men. He fought a group of Doji who guarded Kuwanan. "Still fighting me, even with your belly open on the ground? How touching—I believe I'll let you die like our father did; bleeding and wailing for his little wife."

Uji reached Kuwanan. Covering the Doji's body with his blade, Uji reached beneath his arm to drag him to his feet. "Get up," Uji growled. "We have no time for weakness."

"Leave me ..." Kuwanan whispered, holding his stomach with one hand. "Let me die with my failure."

"Never," hissed Uji. "You are a Crane, by the Sun, and you will live like one." Shrugging Kuwanan against his side, Uji kept his katana ready in his hand. He dragged Kuwanan away from Hoturi and his undead. Uji slipped. He felt the edge of the castle road beneath his feet. Somewhere far below, the ocean waited, and foam dried on the sharp stone of the beach.

"I must tell you this, Brother, as you die in torment," Hoturi called. He slew another Doji and rode closer. His stallion's blood-covered face fought between samurai, and murder shown in Hoturi's mad eyes. "I never told you how our mother died. I wanted to protect you from the truth. You were my little brother, after all." Something sinister crept into Hoturi's voice, and he lifted the ancestral sword of his family.

"Hoturi," Kuwanan struggled to understand, half-standing beside the Daidoji general. "Why are you doing this?"

"Satsume took me out to the cliffs that day for a reason. Teinko found us there." Hoturi's legs tightened around the great beast he rode. It reared in protest. "Our mother didn't commit suicide because she was unhappy. She hated Satsume, that is true, and she would not give him her love after the day you were conceived. Two sons are required by decorum. Once those were born, Teinko had no reason to love Satsume. Her duty was fulfilled. But do not believe the courtiers and their tales of sorrow and romance. Teinko died for a very simple reason, my brother. She did it to save my life."

"What are you saying?"

Urging his horse toward them, Hoturi forced Uji to teeter atop the high cliff's edge. Waters churned hungrily below. The Crane Champion continued speaking, laughing with each step the mad horse took toward the edge. "Satsume gave her a choice: she could give him her body again and bear another son, or he would hurl me over the edge of the cliffs. A life for a life, Father said."

Kuwanan's face went white as he understood the implications of Hoturi's words. "She ... leapt over the cliff...."

"To save my life. A life for a life. She gave him a life, to save mine." Hoturi smiled wickedly, raising the sword in his hand. "She gave him her own."

"No!" Kuwanan shouted. "That's not true!"

"Oh, it is true, Brother. And you are about to join her, so that the Crane might live. Don't you see? It is time for the Crane to be reborn. Don't worry. I'll treat your precious Daidoji well. They will be honored as slaves beneath my feet." His ringing laughter was even more hideous than the death screams that echoed inside the palace, the ripping and tearing sounds that Uji tried to ignore.

Uji struck out at Hoturi's horse. With a titanic swing of his family blade, he cut its legs from beneath it. The creature shuddered, screaming with agony as it fell to stunted knees. Its teeth caught Uji's arm, nearly pulling it from the socket as the horse fought. Hoturi sloped forward, clutching the horse's mane for balance. As he did, the sword of the Crane fell from his hand and landed with a ringing clatter at the ground near Kuwanan. Uji reeled, nearly slipping from the cliff's edge and sending a shower of rocks to the waters far below.

Nearly bent double by the pain of the wound in his side, Kuwanan picked up the ancient sword. It made no sound in his hand. It did not recognize him either by its ethereal ringing note or by the shining light he had seen it give so often when his brother first drew the sword. He was not its true owner; unworthy of its call.

Beyond Hoturi, undead raced toward them, bloody hands reaching to grasp Kuwanan and drag him into their sharpened teeth.

"You cannot defeat me, Kuwanan," Hoturi said, rising to his feet and drawing the shorter blade of the wakizashi from his obi. "And when you die, your bodies will rise again at my command. The Doji will live forever, Tainted by my power. Mother would have liked that, you know. Her sons, united forever in death. You would make a strong addition to my armies." The undead advanced, preventing Kuwanan from attacking.

If he moved forward, they would kill him. He would never reach Hoturi now, never be able to save his family's honor by destroying its Tainted son. All Kuwanan could do at the end was to save his own honor, and pray that his father would forgive him. "I may die, Brother, but I will rob you of your greatest weapon. We will not fall by your hand." Kuwanan snarled, grasping Uji's obi. "Better to give our lives to the Fortunes, than to join your horde.

"So be it." Hoturi said grimly. He raised his hand. The legions of undead leaped crazily forward, but they were too slow.

Kuwanan leaped off the high cliff. Air opened around them. Far below, the swirling waters of the Crane coast crashed against unforgiving rocks. Neither man shouted as they fell through the rushing air. The waters of the ocean swallowed them.

The false Hoturi stared down from the high cliff. "May the First Doji have mercy on your souls," he smiled radiantly. Then his laughter echoed through the high plains, dancing over the corpses of the Crane.

dreams of silk

Darkncss. thick and gentle, spread like a blanket through the long corridors of Otosan Uchi. It touched the corners of the palace with a lover's hand, caressing the hardwood floors and slipping beneath the sliding screens that divided one chamber from the next. While the palace rested above, somewhere deep within the palace's stone cellars, a soul cried out for mercy.

Swirling images of home moved past Hoturi's eyes, obscuring dreams of the palace above. Occasionally, faint strains of music drifted down through the thick stone, taunting his ears with dancing notes. Hoturi wondered if his screams were ever heard in the palace. If they were, they were surely said to come from some heimin prisoner, being punished for rebellion against his lord. There would be no rescue from this tortured cell.

Hoturi's tongue felt thick in his mouth, blackened by drugs and Kachiko's kiss. Days had passed—long, tortured days without water, without food. Each time he awoke from the haze of sleep, Hoturi scratched a mark upon the wall above his right hand. Every time she came, he scratched another. His fingers felt the long scars in the mortar of the stone. Twenty-seven. If those were days, he thought blearily, the Crane must surely be dead.

Toshimoko, Master, Sensei... how I have failed you.

As he raised his head to the blackness of the ceiling, a faint cry echoed from his throat. The duty of a samurai was clear—death before bringing dishonor to your clan, to those who serve you. Death moved in the darkness of the dungeon cell, but Hoturi could not call it to him.

More flashes of light came. Drifting dreams haunted him. Ameiko begged him not to come to Otosan Uchi. Her magnificent red wedding gown caught the last light of the setting sun as the Asahina priest raised his hands in blessing. Her strange green eyes, more spirit than human, teased him as he-took her to his bed.

He did not love her. Her body shifted, became a serpent in the darkness. Hoturi screamed. Hands pressed cold iron to his wrists, tearing through flesh and shackling bone. Flames seared the inside of his eyelids, peeling his eyes open. Light burned him. He turned his face away. Darkness fell once more.

He saw Kyuden Kakita—no, Kyuden Doji. Armies flanked the high palace walls. Faces streamed blood. Kuwanan's head stared down from a high spike above the palace gates. The mocking laughter of a madman echoed within the walls. Golden gates opened—was it Kyuden Kakita?—and inside the flowering courtyard, Ameiko stood in her red gown. She held the arm of a man who was not Hoturi but who bore his face.

"I will have her, Father," the false Hoturi hissed. Flesh rotted from his cheeks and showed the grinning skull beneath. "I will find her, and I will make her mine...."

Another scream, and the flowers around the two pooled into blood. Red streamed along the ground like serpents. Hoturi could not pull his eyes away from the scarlet rivulets. They twisted like fireworks, turned back upon themselves. When they grew still, the face of a young boy stared out from beneath their thick waters. Dairu's blue eyes stared into those of his father.

1 didn't know....

The boy's jaw was so like his own, but the shape of his eyes mimicked Kachiko's catlike gaze. Their son. How had she kept him alive within Shoju's court? What had she given Shoju, so that their son might live?

She can never see you again.

A life for a life, Hoturi whispered, hot tears brushing his cheekbones. This time, though, the son had died, and the mother had lived to tell the tale—and to take revenge.

It was dark. Iron chains bound his wrists icily. Their bitter chill burned his raw flesh. Hoturi could feel the touch of silk, could hear Kachiko's laughter. He scratched another notch on the wall and felt a cool rag pressed to his lips. Drinking greedily from it, he tasted bitterness in the draught. More of the drug that kept him dreaming, of course.

In time, she assured him, he would no longer feel the sting of Aramoro's whip or the lash of her kisses on his cheek. After a few years, when his clan was destroyed and his duplicate had completed his tasks, Hoturi would be set free to wander the empire, mad and alone.

It was the madness that he feared.

Bitter draught, this time from a sake bowl. He had not been given such water in days. Hoturi coughed and choked. He tried to force the cool drink down his parched and raw throat. She must have had a special torture in mind, to allow him such a courtesy. Another dream assailed him, and he saw Satsume's face. His father stood before him in the cold cell, drawing the sword of the Crane to end his life.

"Yes, Father. It is time for you to complete the task,"

Hoturi spat. His voice was no more than a hiss in the silence of the stone chamber.

Satsume drew the sword above his head, testing the steel. "You have failed, Hoturi," echoed his voice. "But still, there is time to save your people."

"How?" Hoturi shook the thick chains that bound his wrists. "You were right, Father. Always right. I've been a fool, and I've turned my back on my clan, to follow my own goals. I deserve ... deserve to die.

Satsume shifted, becoming Kuwanan's bandy form. The wound across Satsume's belly remained on Kuwanan's bare skin. Blood stained his brother's hakima and trickled from the ancestral sword of their clan. "Hoturi, nothing is truly lost if it can be rebuilt. Remember that, and take up your duty."

"My duty ..."

"You are champion of the Crane, and you are destined to free them. Shinsei has sent me...."

Hoturi shook his head to clear it. Shinsei? The voice of his brother became more feminine. The face behind the blue gi came into focus. A woman's face. "When the Way comes to an end .. . then change. ..." Hoturi's lips cracked, and his tongue stumbled over the ancient words, "and having changed, pass through...."

"Yes," the woman said. She transformed once more into Kuwanan in full battle armor. "You must be more than this, Hoturi. You must pass through. Will you fight beside the Crane? Do you have the courage to undo what you have done?"

For a moment, the world grew blurry. Hoturi could see Ameiko's face shining beneath the starlight, brightly lit by happiness. "I can." He threw his weight once more against the chains, feeling blood trail down his forearms, as it had a hundred times before.

Satsume raised the sword, hatred and anger in his eyes. A swift stroke cut through the air toward Hoturi's head. The