L5r - scroll 04 - The Phoenix (30 page)

Tsukune turned to her friend. "How bad is that wound?"

"Pretty bad," Ujimitsu said, "but I'll live."

Tsukune nodded, and the mail hanging from her steel helmet rattled. "Glad to hear it," she said. "I'd hate to think that I'd saved you from these creatures just to have you die on the back of my horse. Do you need aid?"

"I wouldn't say no to a good shugenja right now," Ujimitsu replied. He used his left hand to bunch his silk kimono against his wound, trying to stanch the flow of blood.

"We have some skilled healers at the back of our lines," she said. "I'll take you there." She turned to her other riders and called, "Help hold the line! We can win a great victory here if we catch them between the rocks and our samurai. Fight on for the Phoenix and for Rokugan! Gambatte!"

The other warriors raised their katanas and shouted, "Gambatte!" They wheeled and rejoined the fray as Tsukune and her horse carried Ujimitsu back through the line.

For long moments, the world swam before the Phoenix Champion's eyes. He concentrated, trying to stop the bleeding and bring his breathing under control. His heart pounded like the hammer of a mighty smith. Sweat poured down his brow. The din of battle merged into a great roar, sound like the sea. He almost didn't hear Tsukune when she spoke to him again.

"Have you heard?" she asked.
"He
is coming!"

"What?" Ujimitsu asked. "Who? Who's coming?"

"Hoturi
," she said. "Doji Hoturi."

The champion's mind swam, and he fought to comprehend her words. "Hoturi?" he said. "But we've been fighting against him for weeks—months! It's his minions that nearly killed me just now. If your force hadn't arrived in time...."

"No," Tsukune said, shaking her head. "It's not Hoturi we've been fighting, but some evil twin of the Crane Daimyo, created by dark magic—maho probably."

"How is that possible?" Ujimitsu asked.

Tsukune shrugged. "Who knows?" she said. "I'm no more a shugenja than you are. All I know is that the real Hoturi is on his way. He escaped his captors and has come to join his people."

Ujimitsu shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs. The long days of battle, the blood loss, the exhaustion, all made him unsure he could trust his senses.

"They say Toturi had a hand in Hoturi's escape," she continued, "though I haven't got the entire story. When we finish off this company of undead, things will settle down. Maybe we can get the whole picture then."

"Maybe," Ujimitsu agreed. He fought down nausea. His body began to shake, a sure sign of shock.

"Hang on," Tsukune said. "We're almost there."

Ujimitsu gripped her obi more tightly and leaned his cheek against her back. Sweat ran down his forehead and into his eyes. He closed them.

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When the Phoenix Champion opened his eyes again, the silk ceiling of a pavilion hung overhead. He lay on a futon. His right shoulder ached but no longer burned. He wore a padded cotton undergarment. The robe wasn't his usual color, but he didn't feel inclined to argue.

Ujimitsu sat up slowly. As he did so, the flap of the tent opened, and Shiba Tsukune walked in. Her armor was splattered with blood, though none seemed to be her own. She held her steel helmet under her left arm. The mail skirt around the helmet's rim clattered.

Tsukune's dark hair fell over her broad shoulders. A smile creased her grimy face. Her brown eyes flashed in the tent's dim light. "About time you woke up."

"How long was I out?" Ujimitsu asked.

"The better part of a day. How do you feel?"

"Well enough to rejoin the battle," he said.

"The battle's over," Tsukune said. "The field is ours. We won the day." She paused and smiled. "It's about damn time."

He nodded.

"The war's not over, of course," she said. "But with Hoturi— the
real
Hoturi—on our side, I like our chances."

"So do I," Ujimitsu said, rising to his feet.

Tsukune stepped forward, ready to support him. "Sure you're up to that?"

"Yes," he said. "I need to get back to work."

"The Phoenix Champion never rests, eh?" she said, smiling. "I've got something for you."

"What?" he asked.

"Hold out your hands."

He did. From behind her Tsukune drew a katana and placed it in his outstretched palms. "Your weapon, Ujimitsu-sama," she said. "We recovered it from the battlefield."

"Arigato," he said. He walked to a corner of the tent where his wakizashi rested in a sword stand. Next to the stand lay a red kimono blazoned with his usual fire and feathers. He set down the sword for a moment and pulled the kimono on over his padded undergarment.

As he stretched his arms, pain shot through his right shoulder.

He kept his face passive and ignored it. When he'd finished tying his golden obi, he picked up the swords, sheathed them, and stuffed the weapons into his belt.

"You should take it easy for a couple of days," Tsukune said, concern playing on her handsome face.

Ujimitsu shook his head. "No time," he replied. "There are three different places I should be right now."

"All right," she said, folding her arms across her chest. "But there's one thing you should do before running off to get yourself killed."

"What's that?"

"Hoturi's asked to see you."

Ujimitsu slipped his sandals onto his feet. "All right," he said. "Lead the way."

She pulled back the tent flap and stepped out into the brilliant sunlight of a clear winter afternoon. He followed, shielding his eyes against the glare.

As he passed the threshold, his knees buckled, and pain like lighting shot through his body. The Phoenix Champion fell to the ground, clutching his stomach, trying to keep his guts from spilling out.

The voices of a thousand ancestors filled his ears.

"What is it?" Tsukune cried, kneeling beside him.

Ujimitsu opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. The voices roared inside his head, each clamoring for attention. They sounded like the surf pounding on the rocky shore near Kyuden Isawa.

"Is it the wound?" Tsukune asked, fear etching her pretty features.

"N-no!" Ujimitsu managed to gasp. "N-not the wound!"

The voices in his head built to a crescendo. Suddenly, he understood.

"What is it, then?" Tsukune asked, anger mixing with her fear. "I'll get a shugenja—"

Ujimitsu reached out and grabbed her arm. "No!" he said. "No shugenja. They can't help." He rose to his knees, breathing hard.

"Tell me what it is," Tsukune said. "What's wrong?"

"It's not the wound. It's the Soul of Shiba."

"What?" Tsukune asked, her fear turning to confusion.

"The spirit of our champion ancestors," he said, "all of them crying out at once. Something is terribly wrong in our homeland."

Tsukune licked her suddenly dry lips. "Are you sure?"

"As sure as death," he replied. She helped him to his feet.

"I must go," he said.

"What about Hoturi?" Tsukune asked.

"Hoturi will have to wait," he said. "Tell him I'm sorry. I'll try to catch up with him soon. Now, though, I must return home at once."

"What's happening at home?" she asked. "Why must you leave so suddenly?"

"I don't know for certain," he said, "though I fear I may already be too late."

the black scrolls

Isawa Kaede choked back a scream.

"Don't break the circle!" Tadaka hissed through clenched teeth.

Kaede clamped her mouth shut and held tight to her brothers' hands. On the wall of the underground chamber, monstrous shadows danced in the firelight. Sweat poured down the Mistress of the Void's forehead, though her bones felt chilled. Damp hair clung to her face. She bit her lip and focused, willing calmness into her soul. Strength flowed from her into the other Elemental Masters.

Holding her left hand, Tomo looked pale and nervous. His skin was clammy. Tadaka, on her right, looked stern and confident behind his black hood. The Master of Earth's grip was firm and warm.

On the far side of the circle sat Tsuke, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. Uona and Tadaka held the Master of Fire's hands, lending support to him as he chanted.

In their midst lay a single black scroll. As Tsuke wove his spell, the scroll slowly rolled itself open. Green phantoms appeared above the wizened silk—spectral tentacles reaching for the Master of Fire. The lamp at Tsuke's side flared, and the ghostly forms dissolved into the darkness.

On the surface of the scroll, words of power burned with a diseased light. Tsuke's eyes darted over the kanji, absorbing their knowledge. A wicked grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. His breath came in short gasps. A black star sparkled magically at Tsuke's throat—an amulet of protection.

The scroll's pale green tendrils reached out for Tsuke again. The Master of Fire was ready. He inhaled deeply. The smoky tentacles flew to his mouth, and he sucked them into his body. Tsuke clamped his jaw tight and remained absolutely still. Many-limbed shadows scampered across the stone chamber's walls. Red eyes gleamed in the darkness. A voice whispered, "Come!"

Kaede looked around but saw only darkness.

Finally, Tsuke exhaled. The scroll's mystic vapor—now bone-white—hissed out from between his teeth. It rose above his head and lingered there like a crown.

Tsuke coughed. "Not so bad," he said hoarsely. "Not nearly as terrible as I feared. Who's next?"

"I am," said Tadaka.

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Kaede leaned against the wooden rail and walked wearily up the steps from the bowels of the castle.

From the great library below came the chant of Phoenix shugenja. They channeled energy to the four Elemental Masters who studied the open scrolls. These supporting shugenja worked in shifts; as one tired, another would appear from the castle and take her place in the ring. While these twenty-one adepts chanted, the Elemental Masters would need neither food, nor drink, nor sleep. The power of the Phoenix would sustain them.

The blessed circle had worked like this for days now. They would work for weeks, or months if necessary.

Even until the ending of the world, Kaede thought.

Though the enchantment might continue until the leaves bloomed and fell again, Kaede herself had limits. During the past week she'd pressed past those limits. Her body begged for rest. She needed to get out of the library's darkened corridors. Her soul pleaded to see the sky and ocean once more, to feel the wind on her face and taste the sea breeze.

She walked up the mighty oak staircase and into the castle's lower floors. Samurai bowed and whispered supportive prayers to her as she passed. Only when Seppun Ishikawa stepped before her, though, did Kaede raise her eyes.

"Are you all right?" he asked, concern playing across his rugged features.

She nodded. "No .. .Yes ... I just need some fresh air."

"And food, too, more than likely," he said. "Come with me. I'll get you some of both."

She nodded again and put her arm atop his for support. The Iwo of them walked to one of the castle's outer rooms. Ishikawa whispered instructions to a servant they passed on the way, and the woman scurried off to fetch food and drink.

When they entered the room, Ishikawa pulled shut the fusuma screen, and helped Kaede sit on the thick tatami mat.

Kaede looked at the many-paned outer wall of the room and admired the sunlight filtering through the thin paper. "Pull back the shoji, please, Ishikawa," she said.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "It's cold outside."

"It's been so long since I've seen the sun," she said, "my soul aches for it."

He nodded, went to the many-paned paper screen, and pulled it back. Late afternoon sunlight streamed into the room. A harsh wind followed, tugging at Kaede's black hair, billowing it out behind her like a silken cape. Her eyes teared, and she wiped them with the sleeve of her kimono.

Ishikawa took the cloak from his back and put it around her shoulders. Then he turned and sat down next to her. To warm his fingers, he stuck his hands out over the small brazier in the center of the room. Kaede sat placidly, staring out over the Isawa gardens, past the castle wall, to the great sea.

Food came, and Ishikawa rose to take it. He sent the maid away before shutting the screen once more. Then he returned to his spot beside Kaede and laid out the food in small lacquer dishes: natto bean paste, dried fruit, white rice. Ishikawa poured sochu— strong sake—into two cups and set one before each of them.

"You really need to eat something," he said to Kaede.

She nodded and picked up her food, but she ate and drank listiessly. He ate and shifted uncomfortably where he sat, waiting for her to speak.

Finally, she said, "They have sacrificed themselves for me."

"What?" he asked puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Tadaka, Tomo, and the others. They have taken this burden upon themselves so that I would not."