L5r - scroll 04 - The Phoenix (20 page)

Chihu nodded and hung his head. He joined the shugenja and Mouse, plodding listlessly behind them.

They passed deep into the swamp of stumps. The plants grew taller and broader as they went. Eventually, the roots choked off the brackish water of the mire. The huge tendrils wound themselves into a tangle, like a vast woven basket. As the stumps grew taller, their maws got wide enough to swallow a ratling—or a man. The noise grew louder in proportion to the stumps' height.

Just as it seemed the travelers could stand the clamor no longer, the plants suddenly gave way to a rocky slope. The stone was mostly black. Putrescent green veins ran through it, but still the companions were glad of its dryness. They scrambled up the slope, found a flat spot, and paused to rest.

They ate briefly, and Tadaka took the time to meditate. He hardly felt the good earth now, so deep was it buried. His heart shrank at the remoteness of pure stone.

While the Phoenix shugenja rested and Mouse cleaned her matted fur, Chihu walked back down the slope, near to the stump forest. He was careful to stay well away from the black waters, even the small pools between the roots.

"Take that, screaming demons!" he yelled, waving his hands in the air. "We make it through! Song didn't drive nezumi mad. Clever pack avoid teeth of biting stumps!"

He capered up and down, inventing a festive dance. He turned and wagged his tail disapprovingly at the stump forest.

Hearing the commotion, Tadaka opened his eyes and stood up. "Chihu! Stop being foolish! Get away from there!" He fixed his stern gaze on the young ratling.

Chihu shrugged his shoulders and stopped his dance. He scrambled up the slope again. Stooping, he picked a black stone from the slope. He turned and flung it with all his might at the largest of the stump trees. The stone sailed through the air and into the great plant's gaping maw. The hole snapped shut, only to open again a moment later.

"Eat that!" Chihu cried triumphantly.

The howling from the tree grew louder. The thick scent of honey filled the air.

Chihu turned and started to climb the slope once more.

Mouse screamed. "Chihu, look
look.'"

Chihu spun so quickly that he nearly toppled off the rock.

A great glowing cloud belched forth from the maw of the stump. At first the cloud appeared to be greenish smoke. Then it resolved itself into hundreds of floating shapes.

The creatures looked like iridescent jellyfish, with transparent bodies filled with pallid green and purple innards. Long, whiplike tentacles trailed each bloated, undulating body. Some were as small as a fist. Others were as large as a man's head. The translucent jellies jetted through the air like squid swimming through water. They flew together in a great school, wailing hideously.

The swarm whirled aimlessly for a moment. Then it turned and angled straight toward the companions.

Tadaka reached out with his spirit, commanding the stone around them to form a barrier against the blighted hoard. His mind sought control, looked for sympathy, but found none. The black rock of the Shadowlands resisted the Master of Earth's power.

Mouse screamed as the howling, multiarmed blobs dived on them.

THE SWORD OF THE PHOENIX

c
hiba Ujimitsu leapt from the rocks and onto the ogre's back. The Shintao priestesses screamed as they saw him, not understanding that their salvation was at hand.

Ujimitsu plunged his wakizashi into the nape of the ogre's neck, burying the short sword almost to the hilt. The giant's hard vertebrae turned the blade aside. Instead of severing the monster's spine, Ujimitsu had merely angered the brute.

The ogre roared and flexed its mighty muscles, shrugging Ujimitsu from its back as if he were a fly. The wakizashi stuck. The monster whirled, and Ujimitsu ducked under its giant fist. The punch splintered a small tree behind the Phoenix Champion, and Ujimitsu leapt away.

A thousand ancestors clamored in Ujimitsu's head, each offering advice on how to slay the monster. Ujimitsu fought the noise down just in time to avoid a follow-up blow. He drew

his katana and slashed it across the ogre's knuckles. It howled in pain.

Ujimitsu jumped back to give himself time to breathe.

The priestesses whom the ogre had attacked fled pell-mell down the mountain trail. Past the cliff, they darted into the tall trees, heading directly toward the monastery.

The Phoenix Champion smiled. He had bought their escape.

The ogre recovered a club it had dropped earlier. It bellowed defiance and came at the flame-clad samurai. The ogre swung.

Ujimitsu ducked aside, his gold and red kimono flapping. He aimed a cut at the giant's midsection. His sword drew blood before the ogre's club slapped the blade away.

One of the voices whispered an idea to Ujimitsu. He nodded. As the ogre charged, Ujimitsu leapt high, over its head. The ogre tried to grab him but missed. As he jumped, the Phoenix Champion raked his blade across the monster's eyes. The katana creased the monster's brow, just above the nose. Blood spurted in crimson gouts. The ogre roared in pain. Ujimitsu landed lightly on his feet behind the monster.

"Ho, beast!" he called defiantly. "You can't be very tough if you're having trouble with a little fellow like me!"

The ogre turned at the sound. It tried to blink the blood out of its eyes, but couldn't. Waving its club wildly, it charged at the sound of Ujimitsu's voice.

At the last second, the Phoenix Champion ducked under the club and between the ogre's legs. He slashed his katana across the ogre's hamstrings; the monster's knees buckled. Ujimitsu put his sandal to the ogre's backside and pushed.

The brute fell, screaming, over the cliff. It struck several trees on its way down, sending splinters and pine needles into the air. The ogre didn't stop until it reached the rocks ten stories below. Sharp boulders dashed out the monster's brains.

Ujimitsu stood atop the cliff, sweating. His breath came in short but satisfied gasps. He wiped his brow and gazed down the cliff, where the ogre's body lay like a broken doll. Bemusedly, he wondered how long it would take to recover his wakizashi.

Ujimitsu didn't have much time to rest. Time and space blurred for the Phoenix Champion; he seemed to be needed

everywhere at once. He entered the "Way of the Warrior."

I kittle ran into battle, day into night, week into week. He ate when he could, slept less often, and almost never stopped moving. He exhausted many horses, but Shiba Ujimitsu himself never tired. He had been born to this job.

The battle fog lifted, and he found Tsukune in Asahina lands. I ler t roops stood between Hoturi's undead army and a river. The water was too deep and swift for the horses—even a strong swimmer would have trouble surviving the raging cascade.

Ujimitsu saw all this from a mountaintop nearby. The spirit of his ancestors had whispered to him, leading him here—to this moment in time. A cold waterfall rushed beside him, falling over snow-dappled mountains into a deep pool. The pool turned into the ice-rimmed river that hemmed in Tsukune.

The Phoenix Champion inhaled deeply and dived, riding the w.ilerfall down. He plunged beneath the surface of the pool, cold tugging at his limbs. He surfaced, gulped air, and swam downstream.

Shiba Tsukune barked orders to her samurai. They formed a wall of spears between the body of their force and the advancing Shadowlands warriors. Black arrows flew from enemy bows. Sever. il struck Tsukune's mount, and it fell, taking her down with it. The Phoenix general cursed her luck with horses.

The Shadowlands force charged. Phoenix spears pierced their pale bodies, but they kept coming. Death was no deterrent for the army of Doji Hoturi.

Pulling herself from under her horse, Tsukune heard the screams of her dying comrades. She struggled to her feet and winced. Her left ankle was sprained. "Form up! Form up!" she tailed to her samurai. "Ganbari masu! Don't give up!"

Sweat dripped into her eyes, but she blinked it back. Her army regrouped and forced the undead to retreat. Then she saw something that shot a chill through her heart.

An undead maho worker, a blood-shugenja, appeared in the back of Hoturi's forces. He was tall and skeletal, dressed in an ebony kimono covered with skull designs. Chanting, he drew forth a black vial from beneath his robes. Tsukune started to yell a warning, but her words came too late. The shugenja tossed the vial into the front line of her troops. The glass burst into a green-black cloud that crackled like bones breaking.

The samurai caught in the cloud screamed. First their skin and then their bones melted. When the cloud settled, nothing remained except armor filled with red ooze.

The maho worker laughed.

The undead army charged forward, pressing into the gap made by the terrible vial.

"Retreat! Retreat!" Tsukune called. "Abandon the horses! Take to the river!" The orders were futile. In the frigid river, they'd surely be slaughtered by the enemy's archers. Tsukune's own archers had been slain.

The maho worker drew another black vial from his kimono. He held it high above his head, chanting.

Suddenly, an arrow whizzed over Tsukune's head. It flashed through the air and struck the vial in the shugenja's hand. The vial exploded in a green-black cloud. Inside the cloud, the maho worker screamed.

The undead warriors beside him didn't have a chance to make a sound. They perished in the cloud's acid breath.

Within the cloud, something clattered to the ground. A flash of lightning followed, ripping through the undead line. Something within the shugenja's robes must have shattered. The bones of the undead exploded where the lightning touched them.

Thrilled at the turn of battle, Tsukune glanced back to see where the fortuitous arrow had come from.

Standing on a wide rock, in the middle of the rushing river, stood Shiba Ujimitsu. He was dripping from head to foot, but somehow his bow looked dry. He slung the bow on his back, drew his katana, and cried, "For the Phoenix!"

He leapt from stone to ice-slick stone, running toward the battle, his gait never faltering.

A great roar went up from the Phoenix forces. Tsukune raised her sword high. "For Shiba and our ancestors!"

Turning, she led her people back into the fray. Devastated by their own magics, the undead forces quickly fell before the flashing swords of the Phoenix samurai. When no unliving thing

moved on the field of battle, Tsukune looked at the Phoenix Champion and smiled.

"Once again, I owe you my life," she said, a lock of black hair dangling across her flashing eyes.

He smiled back. "Your life is precious to our clan—and to me."

She nodded, fighting back a blush. "Tell me, how is it that you always arrive at precisely the right moment?"

"Would you prefer that I arrived too late?" he asked. "Chalk it up to experience and good advice."

"I don't suppose you're staying long enough to share some sake," she said.

He shook his head. "I'm needed elsewhere. Promise me one thing, though."

"Yes?"

"Next time you ride off from your main force, take more shugenja or send better scouts. This little excursion could have gotten you killed."

"I'll remember," she said.

He turned to go.

"Ujimitsu," she called.

"Yes," he said, stopping at the ice-crusted riverside.

She bowed. "Sumimasen. Domo arigato gozaimasu."

Ujimitsu smiled. "You're very welcome," he said. Turning, he dived into the frigid river once more.

Again, time blurred. On his way home, Ujimitsu rescued a geisha trapped by bandits. He thwarted three kappa that were extorting money from religious pilgrims. A poet wrote a song about how the Phoenix Champion had driven fifteen goblins from the local woods.

These were the exceptions—pleasant diversions in the champion's endless war. Most of the time, Ujimitsu battled the forces of Junzo and Fu Leng. Distressingly, he met them more and more often.

Late one afternoon, he found himself on the edges of Mori Isawa, the sacred wood of his homeland. The setting sun dappled the wood in orange and deep blue. The champion had traveled long and fought hard, slaying zombies in the forest. He needed rest. Even the voices in his head had fallen silent.

Ujimitsu discovered a fallen log by the path. He brushed a dusting of snow off it and sat down. He closed his eyes and ran his hands up his face, smoothing back his long black hair. He listened to the sound of his own breath and tried to relax. How long had it been since he slept? He didn't know.

The log sank slightly, as though someone sat down next to him.

Ujimitsu opened his eyes and was shocked to see a samurai dressed in his own clothes and gazing back with his own eyes. To all appearances, the figure on the log with him was Shiba Ujimitsu.

"Are you real?" the Phoenix Champion asked.

"Are
you?"
the other Ujimitsu reflected.

"I've been in battle so long," he said, "I no longer know."

"The Way of the Warrior is not an easy one," his double replied. "Your life—my life—has not been an easy one."