Samurai Son (32 page)

Chapter Sixty-Five

Takeshi stood outside of his home and watched as the workers finished the final repairs.
 
A wave of guilt, anger, and sadness assailed him, and he wanted to punish those who had taken his wife and son.
 
He had lost not just his family but also a good portion of his guard who fought to protect Ikumi and Akira from the Tengu.
 
But how could he make such creatures pay for what they had done?

Hiroshi approached him tentatively.
 
Takeshi smiled grimly but continued to look up at the repairs, as though interested.

“Takeshi-sama,” Hiroshi said softly.
 
“I spoke to both your samurai and ashigaru who were here at the time of the attack.”

“Did you find out anything important?”

Hiroshi shook his head.
 
“They were Taka-Tengu, if that means anything.
 
Why would they want your family?”

Takeshi shook his head but said nothing.
 
How could he explain to the ninja his foolishness in taking a Tengu as a wife?
 
Still, the ninja were said to have supernatural origins…

“May I be so bold to ask if you have had dealings with the Tengu?”

Takeshi frowned.
 
“No, you may not.”
 
He stalked off, leaving Hiroshi confused.

#

Bright sunlight played across Akira’s face the next morning when he awoke, stiff and groggy.
 
He had fallen into a dreamless sleep, and he was glad of it.
 
Being part Tengu meant that his dreams would come with some sort of premonitions.
 
He didn’t relish such dreams because they never were clear or completely understandable.

He had half expected to be dead, his throat cut by a silent ninja blade, but in the morning sun, he could almost forget that the previous day had happened.
 
He got up slowly, his back sore where the no-dachi’s scabbard had dug into him the previous night.
 
He rubbed his stiff muscles, wishing he had removed the sword from his obi before lying down.

You think you were uncomfortable?
 
Think of me,
Rokuro’s voice came clearly in his mind.

Akira slid the scabbard off.
 
“Sorry, I didn’t think.
 
I’ve never had to worry about a third sword.”
 
He stretched for a bit, and his muscles responded slowly in the cool morning air.
 
He tried to force them to relax, only to have them knot up again.

“Maybe it wasn’t the best idea I’ve had,” he said to his unspoken thoughts.
 
Did he really expect to be able to fit in the world of men now that he had a taste of his supernatural powers?

A samurai has the enormous responsibility of caring for the lives of his people and the right to take those lives if need be.

Akira nodded.
 
He had known from when he was a small boy that he had a duty as samurai to follow the way of the warrior, the bushido code.
 
Yet now that the Tengu had made him into one of them and released him, what did that mean?
 
He didn’t really know.

Do you have a name for the sword yet?

Akira shook his head.
 
“I don’t even know what to call myself, let alone you.
 
I was Takeshi Akira before the Tengu.
 
I was Stormhammer as a Tengu.”

Then call yourself Takeshi Akira Stormhammer,
said Rokuro.

He frowned.
 
“Should I admit that I am Tengu?”

I think you need to acknowledge that part of you exists,
the sword said.
 
Akira-san, your mother tried to deny your Tengu half.
 
All it did was bring your desires to the forefront.
 
The Tengu would’ve left you in peace had you never given them any cause to interfere.

“Are you excusing them?”

No, but I understand them.
 
They are a force of nature that can’t be denied when unleashed.

Akira nodded slowly.
 
As much as he hated the way the Tengu had treated both him and his mother, he knew there was no animosity.
 
Still, he did not trust them any more than he dared.
 
They were tricky creatures and quite capable of deception for deception’s sake.

He ate quickly, not wanting to tarry long in this place.
 
If Rokuro’s reckoning was right, he could make the city by sundown.

#

Hiroshi watched Takeshi leave then looked up at the damaged home.
 
He had seldom seen so much destruction except through an actual siege or a badly orchestrated ninja attack.
 
He wasn’t fond of samurai, but Takeshi treated him well, and he wondered why the Tengu would kidnap both his wife and son.
 
Tengu were not so overt in their behavior.
 
They controlled the winds and weather.
 
When they met with people, they played tricks on humans or at least tried to.
 
They didn’t usually attack a household to carry off the denizens.
 
It didn’t make much sense why they would do this.

The fact that Takeshi vehemently denied that his family had dealings with the Tengu was a sure sign that they did.
 
Ninja were masters of subtlety and reading emotions, and Hiroshi had learned the skills well before the shonin assigned him to Takeshi.
 
He had seen the anger and remorse in the daimyo’s face and wondered what the samurai lord could be hiding.
 
It was unusual for samurai to consort with the kami, but there was no shame in it.
 
The emperor claimed his so-called divine rule from the kami lineage.

Still, some clans had kami lineage.
 
The Neko and the Shinobi were two such clans that intermingled with kami frequently.
 
Rumors of oni lineage in the Nanashi clan cropped up at court from time to time.
 
But most of the samurai houses did not have such lineage, and many were glad to serve the emperor.
 
Could a clan such as Takeshi’s have Tengu bloodlines beyond Akira’s and Ikumi’s?
 
Hiroshi found the idea intriguing.
 
If they did, then they could have powerful warriors who could rival even the greatest shogun.

Hiroshi shook his head.
 
A samurai with the power of the wind spirits would be a very dangerous adversary.
 
He wondered if the ninja shonin knew about this.
 
The shonin was very wise and may have already foreseen such possibilities.
 
Still, he wondered if he should find a way to get a message back to the shonin.

He looked again at the damage to the home.
 
The workers had made progress, but they were far from finished.
 
He had overheard Takeshi speaking with one of his samurai commanders about the number of samurai he could still bring to bear if he needed to.
 
Hiroshi wondered if Takeshi were planning on doing something foolish such as attacking the Tengu.
 
Was it even possible?
 
How does one declare war on wind kami?
 
And if one did, how did one find them?

He stared at the devastation and wondered how Takeshi could possibly take on something as terrible as this.

Chapter Sixty-Six

Akira continued walking toward where he knew the Imperial City had to be.
 
He went through the forest, hoping to break through at some point and catch a glimpse of the lofty towers and the shining walls of Kyo.
 
But the forest remained stubbornly thick, dashing any hopes of Akira’s seeing the great city.

As he walked, something tickled at the back of his mind, telling him that not all was right.
 
He expected the forest to break at any moment and give way to the fertile farmlands and rice terraces.
 
He expected to see villages as he approached the city and the seaport that would have dozens, if not hundreds, of ships docked in the harbor.

It was midday when he chose to sit and eat his lunch on a small jumble of rocks.
 
The wind blew from the south today, and he could smell the ocean along the briny sea breeze.
 
He unpacked the lotus leaf filled with sticky rice and ate it, breathing in the air slowly as he did so.
 
Something nagged his Tengu senses.
 
He popped the last few grains of rice in his mouth, wiped his hands against each other, and started climbing the rocks.

What is it?
 
Rokuro’s voice came to his head.

“I don’t know,” he said softly.
 
He scrambled up on the highest rock and looked around.
 
“Something doesn’t fit.
 
We’re close to the sea.”

Rokuro said nothing but Akira got the impression that the old sensei was pondering this as well.
 
Akira knew they should’ve come across the towns that lined Kyo by now.

Akira took another breath in.
 
He looked up and saw the southern wind spirits dance through the branches of the trees.

“South Wind!”
Akira called.

The kami was nearly invisible to his eyes, but he saw it turn and swirl as it heard him call to it.
 
It took the form of a lovely maiden with translucent skin and large eyes.
 
Her long, flowing hair blew behind her as she danced around the tree boughs.
 
What mortal can speak to the kami?

“I am Takeshi, also called Stormhammer among the Tengu,” Akira said.

Ah, the immortal who has decided to take a mortal’s form,” the South Wind said.
 
“We have heard of you.

Akira frowned.
 
“You have?”

The South Wind laughed, her voice like wind chimes on the breeze.
 
Oh, yes.
 
Word travels swiftly among the winds.
 
You are well known among us, Stormhammer.

Akira nodded.
 
He knew that the wind spirits would know more than any other kami.
 
Even the smaller spirits would talk to the larger gales.
 
“You are wise,” Akira said.
 
“I was hoping to learn something from you.”

The South Wind laughed and swirled around him, tugging his kamishimo and ruffling his hair as she passed by.
 
You flatter and amuse me, Stormhammer.
 
What do you wish to know?

“I think I’m lost.
 
Can you tell me how far we are to Kyo?”

The breeze stilled and for a moment Akira thought she had moved on.
 
But then he felt her fingers run through his hair again and her cool breath along his face.
 
She kissed him and swirled around him, laughing as she did.
 
You are very far away, Stormhammer.
 
Very far, indeed.

Akira frowned.
 
“Far?
 
How far?”

You would need wings to get there.

The breeze subsided and left Akira with a feeling of dread.
 
He looked around but the wind kami had vanished, leaving the place oppressively warm.

“Wait!” Akira called, hoping she hadn’t disappeared.
 
“Aren’t we on Kyotori-jima?”
 
He tried following the path of the wind kami but to no avail.

Akira!
Rokuro shouted.

Akira halted as he felt the edge of a ninjato pressed against his neck.

“No, boy,” came a rough voice behind him.
 
“You’re on Shinobi-jima.”

#

Kasumi stared at the dragon.
 
“We’re going?
 
Now?”
 
Her voice was thin and reedy with fright, much to her chagrin.

The dragon looked at her.
 
You are not frightened, are you, Neko-san?

Kasumi glanced at Tenko, who nodded.
 
This is your only chance to find the son of Takeshi, Neko-sama.

Kasumi took a deep breath and turned to the dragon once more.
 
The dragon easily outweighed her tiger form, and she knew, if the dragon chose, it could drown her in the oceans.
 
She was a strong swimmer, but even tigers couldn’t swim across the vast archipelagos.
 
The dragon’s body coiled around itself, and its blue scales shimmered in the dawn’s light.
 
Its long legs descended into four-toed claws that could rake through her skin, and its teeth were larger and sharper than the teeth on the Guardian.
 
Although it had no wings, it swam through the air just like it swam through the ocean.

“I’m ready,” she said more to herself than to the dragon or Tenko.
 
The dragon lowered itself, and she grasped the scales, which were smooth, iridescent, and warm to the touch.
 
She scrambled up, half climbing and half swimming in an ungainly movement that would embarrass any cat.
 
Kasumi seized the ridges along the dragon’s back and hauled herself up.

Just as she seated herself between the spine ridges, Tenko skittered up the dragon’s scales and climbed up her leg, his sharp little claws poking through her silk clothing like needles.
 
Before she could object, he slipped into her pack, curling himself up in a ball on top of her other clothing.
 
Kasumi winced and gripped the dragon’s spine spikes.

The dragon hunched up and, with a surge of raw power, leaped into the air.
 
Kasumi scrambled to hold on as the dragon shot up into the sky.
 
Her stomach lurched as the dragon swam through the air.
 
Its legs paddled back and forth, and its tail wagged side to side to provide additional thrust.

Kasumi had never flown before.
 
She shut her eyes and gripped harder as the cold breeze rushed by her.
 
The briny sea air overwhelmed her sense of smell and, despite keeping her mouth closed, her sense of taste as well.
 
The salty wind burned the back of her throat, and her mouth salivated to compensate.

Her stomach lurched when she finally opened her eyes, and she shut her eyes just as quickly.
 
The sea below raced by at dizzying speeds.
 
She felt her hands grip the spines even harder.
 
She felt sick, tasting the bile as it welled up inside her throat.

Never rode on a dragon before, Neko-san?
 
The dragon’s voice was light, even gentle.

No,
she said, trying not to let her fear color her mental voice.
 
She wondered what her mother or, even worse, the Guardian would think of her terror.
 
She was behaving like a frightened kitten.
 
She opened her eyes, forced herself to look down at the rushing green-blue waves beneath her, and nearly threw up.
 
Kasumi closed her eyes tightly as she felt her stomach clench.

Look to the horizon,
the dragon suggested.

Kasumi took several breaths, forcing herself to breathe evenly and deeply.
 
Her mouth tasted both bitter and salty.
 
She opened her eyes once more, looking ahead instead of straight down.
 
Before her, she could see the seas go to the horizon and beyond, past the curve of the world itself.
 
But not all was water.
 
She could see islands to the north and east.
 
Kimon, she thought.
 
The demon gate on Neko-shima.

She said,
Where is Shinobi-jima?

North,
the dragon said.
 
The furthest island to your northeast is your home.

Kasumi drew a quick breath inward.
 
It had been three years since she had stepped foot on Neko-shima.
 
She wondered if she would even recognize it.
 
She remembered the city, the Neko warriors, and even those who could turn into the tora.
 
And she remembered the
Kimon
and the Guardian.
 
But it seemed so long ago.

A small nip on her ear brought her from her reverie.
 
She glanced behind her to see the kitsune had slipped out of her pack and was lightly resting on her shoulder.
 
She had been so intent on the flight that she hadn’t noticed Tenko climbing up there.
 
See?
 
It’s not so bad.
 
He grinned with an odd toothy smile.

Kasumi might have laughed had they not been in such a precarious situation.
 
She stared at the island in the distance.
 
It looked so much bigger than she imagined an island held by ronin and assassins.
 
As she looked across the ocean, she thought she saw a shadow in the distance beneath the waves.
 
Another jolt of fear shot through her.

As if sensing her terror, the dragon turned its great head toward the shadow.
 
The morning sun flickered off the waves as he circled away from the darkness beneath the sea.
 
Darkness follows you, little Neko-san, but it will not approach me nor will it harm you while you are under the Shinobi’s protection.

Do you know how I can escape it?

The dragon said naught for a while, pushing its great legs into longer and deeper strokes.
 
For a moment, Kasumi wondered if it had heard her.
 
When it spoke again, its mental voice was soft.
 
The only way for you to destroy it is to confront it.
 
And confront it you must.

Kasumi shivered in the cold air.
 
She had no desire to confront the oni.
 
I’m not strong enough.

The dragon made no reply.
 
Instead, it dived down toward the ocean, causing her to throw herself against the sharp spine ridges in a desperate attempt to hang on.