Nameless turned and left the old man without a word. There was much more he needed to learn, but everything else could wait. He needed to meet with the other demon-kind and decide what must be done about the nightblades.
The far-seer watched the leader of all the clans rush off in a hurry. He shook his head, fearing for the fate of the People under such a fiery leader.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered softly to Nameless’ retreating back.
It was evening when the council gathered. There were days when Nameless would have preferred to go without, but the trappings of tradition were strong. The People had never had a government, not like the sheep who lived in the Three Kingdoms. For as long as their stories went back, the People had always been a collection of clans. The closest they got to government was the Gathering, their once-a-cycle celebration.
The demon-kind were different, though. They were a clan without a clan. They took no names and served wherever they were needed. Each had been born into a clan, but now their only loyalty lay to each other and the People as a whole.
Long ago it had been decided the demon-kind needed control. Each of them was strong, and taken together, their strength was enough to shape the course of legends. That power had to be harnessed, and it had been decreed that no single person could decide the path of the demon-kind. And so the council of demon-kind had been born. When Nameless had decided to rise to power to save the People, his first task had been to convince the council his plan was necessary and right. If he had failed, he would have been killed by the demon-kind. He was strong, but not strong enough to stand against the combined strength of his brethren.
So even though he was the leader of all the clans, when it came to matters involving the demon-kind, he still had to approach the council and ask permission. If he lost the council, he lost the People. They would scatter to the four winds, declining in strength and numbers until they disappeared completely. No more stories would be told.
Nameless considered his words carefully. What he was about to propose was unheard of. When he looked at everything happening, it seemed a small and easy decision to make, but it was without precedent, and he knew his decision would be contested. He held the majority of votes in the council, but it was a slim margin, and there were several who would abandon him if they felt he was losing his strength.
Before he spoke he looked around the fire to see who had come. Many who he considered friends were gathered there, but they were almost matched by those who disagreed with him. They all had the best interests of the People at heart. They just had different ways of thinking about their problems. There still weren’t enough people who saw the danger the People were in. Today the lack of game and food seemed like a temporary problem, but Nameless had ridden far and wide, and he knew there weren’t enough animals left in the land to continue to feed their growing numbers. They needed a new land, a richer land. They needed the Three Kingdoms.
“Greetings, friends. I’ve called you here today because I have need of your strength. The two nightblades in the Three Kingdoms continue to be a thorn in our side. They bring hope to the land, strengthening it prior to our invasion.”
Nameless knew the last part was his own fiction, but he had to convince the council their actions today would save the lives of the People come spring. He didn’t believe the two nightblades could have that much of an influence on events, but they had to be eliminated. He had underestimated them too often. It wouldn’t happen again.
“I propose we send four pairs into the Three Kingdoms to eliminate the nightblades once and for all.”
The demon-kind were not known for dramatic expression, but Nameless took note of every raised eyebrow. There were many around the fire, even among those he considered allies.
One of the eldest demon-kind was the first to speak. Nameless respected his opinion. “Four pairs have never been sent on a single task before.”
Nameless nodded. “I know how much I ask. But we sent two pairs against just one of them, and they never returned. It is more than we’ve ever sent, but the danger is greater than we’ve ever faced. The only way to ensure our success is to send more than we ever have before.”
One of the younger members of the council spat into the fire. “It is disgraceful to send so many. Send one pair who knows which part of their sword to hold and we will be done with this foolish game.”
Nameless eyed the youth warily. The young had never seen true hardship, not yet. Because of this, they felt they were invincible. They were a danger to his cause. If he reminded the youth that several demon-kind had already died at the hands of the nightblades, the youth would tell him the old men were getting weak and insist a pair of his generation be sent. Nameless considered the possibility. If these nightblades were as good as he thought they were, they would destroy a younger pair without a thought. The idea was tempting, if only to teach a lesson. But every demon-kind was precious, and he wouldn’t waste them to teach others a lesson. He couldn’t bring himself to be that petty. He kept his silence.
Several voices added their opinion to that of the youth. Nameless kept track of each, noting who was for the idea and who was against, and the reasons they gave. There was little duplicity in the council, and almost all spoke the truth of their opinions. There were some who supported Nameless in his plan, but many were against. Some were opposed because of the slight against their reputation. Others worried they were sending more and more demon-kind to their deaths. Time was a piece of the decision as well. The game trails were becoming more dangerous, and even seasoned mountain explorers were having difficulty making the trek from Azaria to the Three Kingdoms and back. Soon the mountains would be impassable.
Nameless made his last attempt. “I respect the wisdom and the voices that have spoken tonight. The problem in front of us is small, but we mustn’t forget how it relates to the larger effort. The People must take the northern lands once the pass is open. Much more than our pride is at stake. The nightblades must be killed. We think of the deaths of our kind, as we should. But our lives and deaths mean little when we look at everything happening. The nightblades aren’t dangerous because they kill us. They are dangerous because they inspire hope. Their very existence screams that we can be defeated. But if we break them, we are that much closer to breaking the Three Kingdoms.”
One of the elders spoke. He hadn’t added his voice to the discussion yet, but his quiet voice carried an air of command. Even Nameless was attentive. “If you believe these nightblades are the threat you make them out to be, I am inclined to believe you. We know they have already killed too many of us. Four pairs is unheard of, but perhaps necessary. But you rush when no hurry is needed. Already twenty pairs cover the northern land, and the nightblades can’t physically track them all down in the winter season. Fear will still spread, but give the trails time to open, then strike first in the spring. Allow our invasion to begin with the death of these heroes.”
Nameless considered the old man’s advice. In his heart, he wanted the nightblades dead, but he recognized his hatred for them was personal. They endangered the mission he had set before his people. Their lives were an insult to his, especially the woman’s. He would have her head. That was a promise he intended to keep. But the advice was well-said. Sending pairs now risked their lives needlessly in the crossing. Besides, from the reactions he was getting from the council, they wouldn’t approve sending pairs now. It was a compromise that pained him, but perhaps it was necessary.
Nameless nodded his agreement, and the decision was quickly made. In the spring four pairs would be sent to herald the invasion of the People. The nightblades would die, and the Three Kingdoms would fall.
Chapter 8
After the night she killed the two hunters in the village, Moriko never let herself stay too long in one place. The hut was still the center of her wanderings, and she came back to it from time to time to both drop off and gather supplies, but she never stayed for more than a night. Rumors of hunters in the land still flew from the lips of those she met, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to separate rumor from truth. She visited every village within four days of the hut, but she didn’t encounter hunters again, even if the rumors implied she was surrounded by them.
Some of the villages were empty, deserted in the middle of winter. Visiting those villages spooked Moriko the most. They reminded her too much of the abandoned city she had encountered in Azaria. The emptiness was menacing, as though the silence held the promise of violence. Moriko trusted her sense, but it was still hard to believe a village didn’t possess a single living soul. She walked through quickly and went on her way.
Other villages reacted differently. Many had seen people leave, but some citizens stayed. They didn’t go outside often, but they would still open the door to a friendly face. Whether people stayed or left, the fear was palpable everywhere Moriko went. It was obvious the hunters were trying to spread panic, and just as obvious they were succeeding. It made Moriko want to scream, but screaming did little good, so she continued on her rounds, wearing herself out a little more every day.
It would have been easier if her mind wasn’t on other things, like Tomotsu and Ryuu. Recently, it was Tomotsu she thought of the most. Her memories of him had been warm, and she had grieved privately when she thought he had died. He had never been the person she hoped he would be, but he had always been kind to her, and that was more than could be said for anyone else at the monastery. It had been a delight to see him alive after so many cycles had passed, but she still struggled to understand the events that forced her to take his life.
She tried to convince herself she hadn’t had a choice, that he had forced her hand by dealing with the hunters and drawing his blade. But she knew it wasn’t true. Ryuu was fond of saying that people always had a choice. It was a phrase he had learned from Shigeru, and it had seeped into Moriko’s beliefs as well. She could have run away, could have tried to knock him unconscious. But in the moment she had killed him without much thought.
It was survival, Moriko thought. Tomotsu made himself a threat, and her survival was paramount. She would kill for it without hesitation. It was a truth she had learned about herself while traveling through Azaria. She was strong and would do whatever it took to keep living. As the Azarians would say, the strong survived. As soon as Tomotsu had drawn his sword against her, his life had been forfeit in her eyes.
Equally concerning were the documents Tomotsu had been carrying. Some of the documents were maps, maps of the Three Kingdoms more detailed than any she had ever seen. They denoted mountains, villages, hiding places, and locations of strategic importance. The maps, combined with the actual meeting of Tomotsu and the hunters, painted a clear idea in Moriko’s mind. In some way, at least some of the monasteries were working with the hunters to an end Moriko couldn’t imagine.
Along with the maps were a pile of other papers, filled with writing Moriko didn’t recognize. She figured it must be some sort of code, or a language she didn’t understand. No matter how much time she spent looking over the papers, she couldn’t decipher them. For all she knew, they could have been a collection of recipes. Given the context in which she had obtained them, she doubted it, but there was no way of knowing.
Her mind wandered with possibilities. At least one monk was collaborating with the hunters, but were more? It could be a single monastery, or it could be the entire system. Moriko wondered how deep the treachery ran and what it meant for the Three Kingdoms. The monasteries didn’t have armies, but they were powerful nonetheless. The people held them in deep respect. The monasteries were the last remnants of the blades of legend.
Without answers, her mind circled upon itself more often than she circled the hut. When she wasn’t thinking about the monasteries and their role in the invasion, she was wondering what had happened to Ryuu. She’d had no word from him, but she wasn’t sure there would be any way for him to get word to her. Messengers were scarce in this part of the world. It had been almost half a cycle since she had seen him, and so much had changed for her.
As though thinking about him made it so, one afternoon as she returned to the hut she sensed him. She had just completed another circle of the surrounding villages and had come back with more supplies when she felt a presence within the hut. Her initial reaction was surprise. It had been so long, but it couldn’t be anyone else. She paused and extended her sense carefully. There was someone within the hut, and it felt like Ryuu, but it also didn’t. Moriko was hard-pressed to describe her sensations. It felt like Ryuu, but different. The power she was used to feeling from him no longer pressed against her mind. It was as though he were a normal person. Her heart went out to him. What had happened? Had he lost his strength just as she found hers?
Moriko moved to rush to the hut, but then she felt other presences on her sense. There were two of them, hiding well out of sight of the hut. She could feel the tendrils of the sense as they snaked towards the hut. They could only be hunters, and if Ryuu had lost his power, he was helpless before them. She sat on her heels, considering the problem. Was he bait? And if so, was he willing or unwilling?
There were no answers to her questions, but Moriko hadn’t come this far to be intimidated now. She swallowed her fear and walked towards the hut, right into the trap.
When Moriko entered the hut, she saw it was Ryuu waiting for her. He looked up and grinned, a wide smile Moriko didn’t realize how much she had missed until that very moment. It was hard to believe, after all this time, they were face to face once again.