L5r - scroll 04 - The Phoenix (14 page)

Past the trees grew a tall thicket of sharp-bladed grass. The grass was a pale gray-green. Single, wan blossoms drooped from the tops of the tallest blades. The flowers lay closed, as if waiting for sunlight in this benighted place.

Tadaka's sandal caught in some mud before he reached the thicket, and he had to pause a minute to pull it out. Ob flew on ahead, over the blighted field. As he did, the plant stalks sprang to life. The buds opened, revealing a long, bone-white spike within each one. The grass flailed about, whiplike, trying to strike the mujina. Oily yellowish poison dripped like honey from the barbed flowers.

The plants passed harmlessly through the mujina's intangible body. "Yow!" Ob cried. "Bet that would have hurt if it had hit you."

"Takesasu plants," Tadaka said. "Common in this accursed place. They're little more than an annoyance. And easy enough to deal with." He reached into a fold of his robe and drew forth a round, flat stone with serrated edges.

Chanting, he manipulated the stone between the fingers of his right hand. It changed from one stone to two, three, four.... Tadaka brought his hands together. When they parted, he held eight stones, one between each of his fingers.

He held his hands up, parallel to his face, and snapped them forward, as if flinging water from his fingertips. The stones sailed through the air in perfect formation, spinning like shuriken as they went, buzzing with enchantment.

They hit the takesasu plant stalks at knee height, severing the long blades. The rocks didn't stop. They flew on their ordained paths until they disappeared into the swirling mists and left a wide path in their wake.

Ob looked at Tadaka, clearly impressed. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"You're already on my bad side," Tadaka answered. He walked down the freshly cut path, crushing stalks beneath his feet as he went. The grass squeaked and sighed, as if still fighting for life.

As they passed down the path, well out of range of the remaining weeds, Ob asked, "Where'd the stones go?" He craned his neck high and low, but saw no sign of the projectiles.

"Returned to the elements," Tadaka said. "Destroyed by the magic that spawned them."

They walked for what could have been an hour or a day. The stale air around them didn't change, didn't show any sign of sun or moon. The luminescent mist swirled in their path, revealing its secrets slowly before their eyes. Furtive scuttling sounds filled the air, though they saw no fauna.

Finally, the long field of deadly grass ended. The land rose once more. Dark stones thrust from the soil, pushing aside pale llabby roots, as if the rocks had just risen yesterday. Small, glowing insects, scampered in the twisted undergrowth at the stones' base.

Tadaka found a space between the rocks and climbed up into it. Ob flitted after him. "I'm hungry," the mujina said. "Got anything to eat?"

"Not for the likes of you," replied Tadaka.

"You gave some to the girl."

"She's human; you're not. You can fend for yourself, mujina."

"A fine way to treat your traveling companion," Ob said. "And after all I've done for you."

"What have you done for me, besides distracting me and slowing me down?"

"I saved you from those deadly whatzit-plants."

"I saw them," Tadaka said, "well before you flew into their midst." His foot slipped on some loose gravel, but he braced his hands against the rocks on each side and kept walking uphill.

"You don't like working with other people, do you?" said the mujina.

"People, yes," Tadaka said. "You ... no." A sound drifted to his ears through the swirling gray darkness—a scrabbling, squeaking sound, punctuated with dull thuds.

"Well, if you don't want my companionship, just say so," Ob said, crossing his bony arms angrily over his chest. "I warn you, though, it gets pretty lonely out here."

"Quiet!" Tadaka hissed.

Ob frowned. "If you don't want to talk, we won't talk. No need to be rude about—"

"Ob, please be quiet," Tadaka said. "I need to listen."

The mujina clamped his mouth shut. The two of them stood silently, Tadaka leaning against a huge up-thrust stone.

The sounds became clearer. Clangs punctuated the thuds— the noise of steel against steel, the sounds of battle. The other noises were scuffling and inhuman cries of pain.

"Sounds like fighting," Ob whispered.

"Over the next ridge," Tadaka replied. "Stay behind me, and for Amaterasu's sake, be
silenti"

Cautiously, the Master of Earth picked his way through the

intervening boulders to the top of the hill. He assumed the mujina went with him, though he did not look back to check.

Cresting the rise, he peered over the top of a boulder and into the rock-rimmed valley below. He saw a small village of old mud huts with ragged roofs of thatch. Among the buildings, villagers fought for their lives against a cadre of Shadowlands undead.

Skeletal warriors on horseback rode through the settlement, destroying both the hovels and the village's denizens. With the undead samurai came zombies, and near-human lesser oni. The demon-spawn's gleeful war cries filled the air.

The inhabitants of the village weren't human, either. They stood as tall as a man and wore ragtag clothes and armor and wielded makeshift weapons. The creatures' muzzles, pointed ears, and long tails bespoke their feral heritage. Nezumi, thought Tadaka—ratlings. He'd seen a few of them during his travels in the Shadowlands, but had never before encountered a ratling colony. Though they lived in the shadows of Fu Leng, the Nezumi remained untainted by his touch.

The ratling villagers fought fiercely against the Shadowlands marauders, but there were only three dozen nezumi against nearly eighty invaders. The undead had swept through a break in the rocky hillside and into the sparsely protected village. Fu Leng's minions wore armor and sat astride fell steeds. They thundered through the colony, cutting down ratlings and setting huts ablaze.

"They'll be killed if we don't help them," Ob whispered in Tadaka's ear.

"You intend to help?" Tadaka asked.

"When I said 'we,'" Ob replied, "I really meant
you."

"Helping ratlings is not my mission."

"Sorry!" Ob replied in a huff. "I mistook you for one of the good guys." He vanished.

Behind his hood, Tadaka frowned. Stopping to help these creatures would slow him down. Time was precious, and his supplies were limited. Still, the Nezumi might have information he could use.

The Master of Earth loosened his swords in their sheaths, drew his bow, and walked over the top of the hill.

THE WAY OF FIRES

l^sawa Uona ducked back out of the way as the great bronze bell swung toward her. Fighting surrounded the young Elemental Master, filling the air with an unpleasant cacophony. Uona lay her hands gently on the great bell's surface, and it shot back toward her attacker.

The bell resounded with a mighty peal as it struck the undead samurai. Her opponent flew backward through the air. His red armor had been crushed nearly to his spine. The red samurai lay still for a moment, and then scrambled to his feet. The blow from the bell would have been enough to kill a normal man—but Junzo's minions were neither normal nor men.

Uona frowned. She leapt back, arcing high in the air, and landed atop one of the temple's buildings. She assessed the situation. While powerful within her element, Uona was not used to large battles.

The temple complex used to be beautiful, resting peacefully at the foot of a mountain. Its

red, plastered walls held ornate columns with carved golden tops. Red-tiled roofs perched atop beams with the smiling faces of kami.

Many of those buildings were now burning. All of the half-dozen showed battle scars, even though the fighting had barely begun. Gore spattered the great torii in the courtyard. The cherry trees had been hacked and set ablaze. Zombies and undead samurai trampled the garden and stained the temple's pool red with the blood of the monks.

Uona nearly wept at the desecration of the monastery. Years of meticulous care by priests of Shinsei and their people had been laid waste in less than an afternoon. Uona wished she and Tsuke had arrived sooner. Perhaps they could save something.

The Mistress of Air's eyes narrowed. Anger built like a hurricane in her breast. The power filled her, and she turned her mind to mastering it.

Melees whirled in the courtyard below, darkening the flagstones of the temple with blood. Junzo's undead minions bore tattered armor and rusty weapons. Flesh slipped from their rotten bones. With them rode a few evil ronin, better clad and equipped, but less impervious. Monks and villagers fought without armor, weapons, or training. The monks were Phoenix priests, most of them pacifist to the core. Still, they would not surrender their lives without a fight.

Isawa Tsuke, the Master of Fire, stood amid the monks, rallying them. Where his sword flashed, bodies fell. Sometimes, bodies rose to fight again—but not often. He'd done a good job of protecting the priests and their people. He'd even pulled the scattered defenders into a cohesive unit. Given time to concentrate, the Master of Fire could bring considerable powers to bear.

Junzo's minions weren't giving him that time. Undead troops pushed Tsuke and his allies back. Soon they would run out of room to retreat.

Uona inhaled and cleared her mind. A company of fell archers spotted her on the temple roof. At a bark from their ronin commander, they fired a dark storm of arrows at her.

Uona gestured, and the winds embraced her. Her magic caught the arrows and sped them back whence they had come.

The winds imparted their fury to the shots. The archers screamed as their own arrows hit them, striking with such force that they passed entirely through the archers' bodies. The ronin leader slumped dead as an arrow pierced his eye and shattered the back of his skull. The few archers that survived fell back.

The Mistress of Air glimpsed something Tsuke didn't. A pike-man had broken through the flank of the priests' line. He aimed his weapon toward Tsuke's back and charged.

Uona leapt into the air and landed in the melee between I hem. Wind surrounded her body, turning aside weapons. She laced the charging pikeman and chanted, summoning her powers. The man jerked once and flew into the air, screaming. I Ie did not come down.

Tsuke looked over his shoulder and smiled. "We were lucky to iirrive when we did," said the Master of Fire. Sweat dripped from his brow, and gore spattered his katana. "I've longed for a chance to test my skills against Junzo."

"This isn't Junzo," Uona said grimly. "These are merely his minions."

"A commander is measured by the quality of his troops," Tsuke said. He turned and cut off the head of the zombie nearest him.

"Why do they attack priests?" Uona wondered. She pointed her palms outward, and hurricane winds blew away a half-dozen raiders, crushing them against the temple's wall.

"They're here for the same reasons we are. They want the scroll."

Uona looked at him and arched her delicate eyebrows. "Can Junzo know one of the scrolls is here?"

"He must," Tsuke replied. "Why else would his minions venture so far into Phoenix lands? Why else would he spend the energy to keep them hidden? A force this large couldn't get past our defenses without magical deception."

Uona nodded, grim thoughts filling her mind. What other dangers might await them? Winds gusted against a nearby zombie's sword arm, and it cut off its own head.

Tsuke turned toward her. "Protect the priests and their charges, and I'll make short work of the rest of this rabble."

"Hai," she said. Turning to the nearest priest, she held out one delicate hand. The priest looked at her.

"Take my hand," she said. "My powers will protect you, and any who link hands with you." The priest clasped his hand in hers. He turned to the man nearest him and relayed the message. Soon, a human chain formed. Where the chain linked with Uona, a barrier of wind sprang up, buffeting back the Shadow-lands forces. The priests chanted praise to Amaterasu for her mercy.

Tsuke smiled. The temple guards formed up around him. The samurai held back Shadowlands marauders while the Master of Fire methodically dissected the best foes.

A spearman charged him. Tsuke's katana turned aside the man's blade. The spearman swept up, trying to catch Tsuke in a counterblow. The Master of Fire chopped down, slicing the spear in half. Before his foe could recover, Tsuke thrust his sword through the man's mouth and out the back of his head. The Master of Fire smiled at the look of surprise in his dead foe's eyes.

He pulled the sword out, and the spearman's body slumped to the ground. Tsuke stepped back, seeking a new foe, but the Shadowlands troops had fallen away before his fury. Glancing back, he saw that Uona's people had formed a large circle. Her power was forcing the invaders toward the temple gate. Again, Tsuke smiled.

His pleasure was short lived. A black-feathered arrow struck him in the left shoulder. The missile bit deep, nearly to the bone. Tsuke winced, and anger contorted his face. Sheathing his sword, he grasped the arrow by the shaft. Chanting, he drew the offending weapon out of his body. As he pulled, the arrow changed into fire.