L5r - scroll 03 - The Crane (30 page)

Uji shuddered. These oni were the true denizens of the Shadowlands. At least twenty such monsters, all different, marched within the Crab lines. Another seven thousand goblin accompanied them, and at least half that many mu-jina—lesser oni, with fewer powers than their great masters but equal ferocity. Around them, the grass withered to brown, tainted by their very presence.

"Dear Lady Doji, protect us from Taint and lies." The ancient prayer died on Uji's lips as the swollen beast lifted another screaming creature and stuffed the writhing mujina into its wide mouth.

"To the battlements, Uji," Kuwanan said, his face as gray as the stone of Kyuden Kakitas walls. "The fighting will begin soon."

"How many men do we have?"

"How many did you bring?" Kuwanan replied, turning to ascend the stairs.

"Nearly a hundred."

Kuwanan nodded gravely. "Then we have almost two thousand—still not enough to man all the guard posts and keep the arrows firing day and night."

"Two thousand? Only two thousand? Where have the reserves gone?" Shocked, Uji followed Kuwanan.

The Doji prince pointed out toward the swollen armies of the Crab. "They have gone to feed the oni, Uji. And they will not return. A unit of Yakamo's men caught our reserves as they marched here. None survived."

Uji followed Kuwanan up the long stone staircase that led to one of the Kakita watchtowers.

Below them, the Crab began to form a front line along the road, their thick shields raised to block the fierce spray of arrows from the Kakita wall. Shields were useless on the battlefield against a sharp katana, but the Crab insisted on them. At times like these, Uji thought wearily, perhaps the Hida ways were the best.

One of the Hida rode his steed just beyond the range of the archer fire, commanding his troops to surround the gate and test the strength of the men on the walls. Uji recognized him as Hida Tsuru, cousin of Kisada and guest of the Crane at their harvest festival. Good, Uji thought, his hand tugging at his unshaved chin. Better an enemy you know.

"Surrender, Crane!" Tsuru called. "Half your garrison is dead from plague, and the rest are falling down with exhaustion. We have more than twenty thousand men, and you have perhaps one-tenth our number. There is no chance of defeating us. If you try to hold our armies at bay, you will only gain the deaths of your men. Give us the palace, and we will allow your troops an honorable death!"

"The fool," Uji growled to himself. "He knows we will never surrender the palace."

"Of course he knows," Kuwanan replied. "He seeks to build his men's courage, not to temper ours. Soon, the snow will fall, and his men will be trapped outside the palace."

"Do you think that any one of those men," Uji waved his hand at the massing Hida troops, "would not give his life willingly, and more so if he was already dying? We have plague in our lands. Some of the samurai in the palace already show signs of it. We must fight with caution, or we will lose." Uji considered his choices carefully. "You have been trained by the Lion," he began.

"And you by the oni themselves." Kuwanan snarled. "What are you suggesting?"

"That if we fight with honor, we will die. But if we fight with courage, and forget the rules of battle, we might be able to survive, and keep the palace out of Crab hands."

"Fight without honor?" The Doji prince glanced angrily at his general. "No."

Uji pointed out at the oni that had begun to claw their way toward the palace walls, ignoring the arrows that rained around them. "Your enemy will not be as polite. Listen to me, Kuwanan. You know this is the only—"

"No!" Kuwanan yelled. "My men will die like Crane! With honor!"

Unmoved, the dark Daidoji Daimyo stood his ground. His voice lowered to a malevolent whisper as he continued, his eyes never leaving Kuwanan's own. "You are commander here, my lord prince, and I will respect your orders. Allow me to speak, then, if you wish, you can remove my head from my shoulders for my failure to obey. But hear me out." The hiss became short, harsh, each word punctuated by desperate need. The Daidoji stood as straight as the ramparts of the palace,

Still furious at Uji's disobedience, Kuwanan considered his request. The Doji controlled his rage, pushed his katana back into its sheath, and nodded silently.

"Behind the Crab units there is a line of Unicorn, sent by Fortunes know what stroke of luck. They chase the Crab, but the Hida have arrived ahead of them—possibly because of some dark magic of the Crab shugenja, possibly because the Unicorn have been injured by the Crab and travel slowly. We must do two things. First, we must hold the Crab for two days, until our Unicorn allies can arrive. Second, we must injure the Crab as deeply as we can.

"Even now, the Crab search our forest for lumber to make their battering rams and palisades. In days, they will have shattered the walls of Kyuden Kakita, and we will be rats to scurry before their troops. Only if the Crab are wounded can we hope to survive—and only if we wound them deeply enough will they turn away from Kyuden Kakita and seek easier prey."

Kuwanan was grim. "You suggest using our manpower to damage the Crab as heavily as possible, to make every Crane life cost three of the Crab? How, Uji? Slaughter tactics? Night strikes? Hiding, sneaking like goblins and beasts rather than fighting like samurai? The Crab won't simply invade, steal the food and provisions they need, and leave. They are here to turn their vengeance against the Crane, and to destroy us."

The shouts of the Crab turned to roars as one of the ancient oaks of the Kakita woodlands fell in a rush of barren branches and the shriek of twisting wood. Kuwanan's mind fought to ignore the faint tang of dishonor. It was bushido that you should meet your enemy face to face on the field of battle, not skulking treacherously. Kuwanan's Lion training said that he should die fighting the Crab with every sword at his command ... but his soul, as a Crane, whispered for a different path. Lowering his hand from the hilt of his blade, Kuwanan watched as the gray-clad Crab tore the bark from the ancient oak tree. With a mighty cry, they felled another. Uji only nodded in silence, aware of the burden that hung over the young prince's head.

"I've never been the heir, Uji-san," Kuwanan said. "The decisions I was expected to make in my lifetime were those of a soldier, and my soldier's heart cries for battle. If Hoturi were here, he would know what to do."

For once, Uji's somber attitude broke. He placed his hand on the cold stone wall of Kyuden Kakita, feeling the smoothness of granite and age. "Hoturi is not here, Kuwanan." The Doji prince glanced up at the swarthy face of his general, and Uji continued passionately, "The Crane do not need Hoturi today, my lord. They need you."

"Ready your plan, Daidoji-san," Kuwanan told him. For a moment, the young Doji stood straighter, at last feeling the weight of his burden lift from his shoulders to be shared by all those inside the palace's timeworn walls. "But first, sleep. You have spent the night in preparation, counting the Crab armies and making certain your men were well. Now it is time for you to rest. We have a few hours before the Crab strike. They must ready their battering rams and position their armies. I promise you this." He placed his hand on the Daidoji's shoulder in a gesture of respect. "The palace will still be here when you wake."

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The agonizing thud of the battering ram shattered Uji's concentration, pounding the rock of Kyuden Kakita's walls. With it came the whir of spells hurled by Crab shugenja to hold the breach wide and allow the Hida passage. Sparks flurried into the sky above the dark-robed shugenja, arching from their hands and spinning into lightning on either side of the marching Crab. Any arrows that tried to reach beyond the lightning wall were pulverized into searing ash.

Two days had passed, and only a hundred Crane had died. They had died outside the palace, not inside, led by Uji on raids of the Crab supplies and assaults against the goblins. Nearly two thousand of the dim-witted green creatures had broken and run, convinced the very spirits of the ground had come to kill them. Fear of their oni leaders had kept many of the goblins in line, but fanatical superstition had driven away the rest. Those that remained fought with blood-painted helmets and whispered of rolling ground that spoke with strange tongues.

Never tell a goblin that wet sod can be cut into man-sized strips, and never mention that the ground speaks with the voice of a Crane.

Over a thousand Crab were already sick, showing signs of the filth that had been placed in their water supply. Uji's men had hunted for anything that would spoil the Crab reserve, from deadly herbs to the corpses of small animals, and had used them with devastating effectiveness. The Hida now posted three times the guard on their provisions—more men that would not be joining the attack on the Crane.

Thus far, Uji's strategies had been successful, but there was more to do. Soon the Crab would regroup and overcome their losses. Still, there had been no sign of the Unicorn troops that were expected behind the Crab, and no sign of further Crane reserves. Uji snarled and shook his head to clear it. This was not the time for doubt.

Suddenly, a crash tore through the palace. The western wall shuddered as one of the stone supports snapped beneath the pressure of the Crab battering rams. Uji leapt from his position near the gates, falling to the courtyard below and rolling to his feet. Indeed, the western wall of the palace had begun to crack, and eager hands pushed aside the rubble.

Thum! Thum! Thuml

The stone chipped, tearing apart. Black claws dug wildly through the granite. Where the claws touched, the stone began to crack as if weakened. Granite turned pale white beneath the oni's hands. That was how the Crab burst through stone walls—they had the dark magic of the Shadowlands to help them.

Uji readied his twin swords, drawing them from their sheaths. More Daidoji rushed into position near the breach. When the oni and his Hida companions tore out enough stone to step through, the Crane would be ready.

The stone fell away in larger chunks, and the oni's claws dug deep into the weathered stone. The blackened fingers withdrew, dragging long rifts in the remaining stone. The hole was large enough for a man to duck through with his weapon drawn.

Even that was not the Crabs' plan.

"March!" called the Hida commander. He whipped one of the fearful goblin units toward the shattered wall. "March, you dung-infested beasts! On!"

Goblins skittered forward, broken weapons clutched in greenish fists. Their long ears flopped wildly beneath scraps of armor and hide.

Three Daidoji soldiers leapt to the wall, ripping into the goblins with raised yari spears. Their sharp points dug into (he green flesh of the scurrying beasts, tearing wounds through the hide armor the creatures wore. With shrieks, the goblin unit disintegrated, running to and fro outside the wall and howling in pain and fear.

Now the three Daidoji stood in the open, vulnerable to (he Hida on the opposite side of the gap. Arrows pierced the Crane, and they fell.

Ten more goblins forced through the gap, raising their arms to defend against the waiting Crane. While their bodies were being cut down, the Hida pushed away more stone, quickly stepping through to the inner courtyard. They guarded the position, literally throwing the expendable goblin troops toward Uji and his men. Slowly the Crane troops were pushed back.

A terrible crash broke the air as another wall shivered beneath the force of the Hida siege engines. A third ram and a fourth pounded the outer walls, still the thick stone held. Only the breech at the front of the courtyard continued to spill Crab troops.

Uji commanded four more Daidoji to his side. He attacked the largest Crab near him, cutting at the man with all the strength he could muster.

With a yell, the Crab swung a tetsubo toward Uji's head. I he massive iron club whistled through the air. Uji leaped aside and then darted in with his weapon, slicing toward the I lida's unprotected knees.

Another Crab intervened, thrusting his short spear before

Uji's katana. The shaft shattered, cut in two by the Crane's sharp swords, but it did deflect Uji's blow.

The three adversaries circled. Uji kept the two men at bay behind shattered rubble until he saw an opening. In a fast one-two motion, he cut first with one sword then with the other. The first blade feinted aside the Hida's spear. The second struck flesh. The Hida fell, clutching at the deep cut in his neck.

Twisting, Uji avoided the falling tetsubo and drove toward its wielder. A second cut, while the club was still down, and the Hida fell.

Outside the palace, a horn blew. Marching feet echoed behind shouts of war. The Crab commander shouted the order to withdraw. Only a few Hida stood in the opening, their scarred faces dead and empty of emotion. One looked behind him, toward the breach in the stone. Uji took the opportunity to cut open his torso. When the Crab fell, he almost looked grateful.

Uji stepped back, his heart pounding.

The rest of the Hida within the courtyard faced the small troop of Daidoji guards. One Crab thrust toward Uji's side, but the general of the Crane stepped nimbly away and buried his own blade deep into the Crab's throat. Two more men moved from the Hida guard, swords flashing. A Crane fell to a swift strike. Something outside the wall was moving, and the sick sliding noise filled Uji's ears. He rained down a series of blows on his Crab opponents, trying to maneuver toward the breach. They held the line as firmly as a row of ancient oaks.