The Twilight War (3 page)

Eagle knelt down at the head of the long, low table, where Snowhawk and Brother Mantis already waited.

Moonshadow took his place, dropping into the seiza position, legs folded beneath him. Sitting on his heels like the others, he stretched and looked around.

Heron was on cooking duty this morning, and she knelt in a corner by the fire pit, ladling thick rice porridge from a suspended iron pot into bowls. As usual, she was dressed in an elegant kimono, her long hair bound carefully, make-up applied, plum-scented perfume on her wrists. Though trained in shinobi ways, Heron had been born and raised a noblewoman, taught from childhood that a lady must always be the essence of beauty, poise and dignity. Throughout years of teaching Moonshadow the art of disguises, the science of potions and even the secrets of naginata fighting – combat with a bladed pole – she had flawlessly maintained that ladylike aura.

Groundspider crouched behind Heron, and passed out the food. The opposite of Heron in almost every way, he wore a stained jacket and his hair, though tied, was a bundle of tangles and escaping strands. The big-framed shinobi was the closest thing Moonshadow had to an older brother, though his sheer size and muscular build made it plain the two weren't truly related. Their appetites
were in sharp contrast too: Moonshadow ate like a bird, Groundspider like a horse. Watching him eye the food and lick his lips, Moonshadow grinned knowingly.
Make that two horses.

On an iron cooking plate over one corner of the fire pit, thin fillets of eel steamed. Their aroma plumed, drowning the scent of Heron's perfume and making Moonshadow's nose twitch and stomach flutter in anticipation. Groundspider sniffed the air and gave a low moan of delight. Eagle and Mantis closed their eyes, quietly savouring the aroma.

‘Slept in, Moon?' Snowhawk called from opposite him. He shrugged and nodded. Her small mouth puckered teasingly. She was already dressed in daytime training clothes, hair combed and tied neatly, large eyes bright. On any other day, he'd retort with friendly jibes of his own. But with the dream still fresh in his mind, he found it oddly hard to look at her, let alone engage in banter. He flashed Snowhawk a vague smile, then looked away.

Eagle and Brother Mantis bowed gratefully as Heron distributed the strips of eel on tiny plates, along with sets of chopsticks. The meal and implements in place, Heron and Groundspider joined the others at the low wooden table.

‘Brother Badger informed me that he's already eaten,' Eagle said, adding with a hint of
impatience, ‘but of course will join us very shortly for the special briefing.'

The group bowed their heads in silence to thank the gods for the privilege of once again having food. Then everyone took up their chopsticks and ate with relish. Clicking sounds and murmurs of approval filled the air until the bowls and plates were empty.

Mantis put down his chopsticks and dabbed his mouth with a soft cloth. His melancholic eyes locked on Moonshadow.

‘Well, still no Badger. You made it, but you look a little out of sorts. Were you up half the night again, thanks to those infernal beasts?' Mantis asked sympathetically.

Moonshadow nodded, hoping his perceptive duelling coach – and everybody else – would probe no further. But Mantis was as sharp as his sword, so probably wasn't fooled. Once a ronin, he had duelled for a living in his youth, attaining legendary status but taking many lives. A faded scar on his cheek remained a souvenir of those days. Though his skill was undiminished and he loved to teach what he called ‘scientific duelling', the mature Mantis followed the Way of the Buddha as many older, more philosophical samurai did. From time to time, he spoke of his many regrets.

Officially, the Grey Light Order was an
independent chapter of warrior monks. In reality, they were mostly shinobi, with a mandate to safeguard the Shogun. But Mantis had practically become a
real
warrior monk, complete with a shaven head. Now he denounced killing, whether of guards or enemies, unless there was simply no option.

Brother Mantis himself, Moonshadow decided, also looked a little haggard. That was understandable. A fitful sleeper at the best of times, he often stayed up late, hunched over a writing desk in the archives and worked on his duelling manual, with his sword at his side, so that he could rehearse and document complex moves.

‘Where
is
Badger then?' Eagle groaned. ‘There are pressing matters to discuss.'

Along with Eagle, Heron tilted her head on an angle. ‘I can hear him, still fussing around in the archives. I'm sure he'll come soon.' Her soft eyes glided to Moonshadow.

He saw her look and bowed, then grinned warmly.

‘While we wait for Badger, I have a question for you, Moon-kun.' Heron flashed a reassuring smile. ‘About something mentioned in your report of the White Nun rescue mission.'

Moonshadow hesitated, then gave her a slightly suspicious nod.

‘Is your sleep disturbed,' Heron asked gently,
‘because the White Nun unexpectedly spoke of your mother?' She sighed. ‘It would weigh heavily on
my
mind.'

Snowhawk shifted uneasily on the spot. Groundspider looked a little startled and Mantis, with one eyebrow rising slowly, appeared to hold his breath. Eagle didn't flinch.

Moonshadow looked around and swallowed. For three weeks now, he had been expecting either Eagle or Heron to raise this. No doubt they had already discussed it and made a decision that the matter was best brought out into the open. And now, here it was!

Heron was like a mother to him, but this concerned his real,
unknown
mother.

Witnessed by Snowhawk, the White Nun had abruptly spoken of her own personal debt to Moonshadow's mother. The mystic had then refused to discuss the matter further until she next visited the Grey Light Order in Edo. That was yet to happen.

‘The great sage,' Moonshadow replied slowly, ‘never explained whether my mother is alive or dead. She chose not to tell me, not yet. So I have vowed not to seek out the truth – or, my mother herself, if she lives – until my immediate duty is done and the present threat to our Shogun removed.' He hung his head. ‘Of course, I still find myself thinking about her. I try not to, but
I do.' Moonshadow straightened up and glanced about, his eyes burning. ‘Since I was young, I've had dreams of a man and a woman, dressed like farmers. A vision of my parents, maybe.' He shrugged. ‘Who knows?'

Snowhawk watched him with sad, knowing eyes. Groundspider, his chin in hand and powerful shoulders hunched, appeared to be feeling the moment too. Like Moonshadow, they had both been orphans and knew nothing of their true origins.

‘Your resolve is admirable,' Eagle said. ‘And of course it weighs on your mind. But the White Nun is very wise and must have her reasons. Hard as it is, be patient, eh?'

‘I will do my best, master.' Moonshadow gave him a dutiful, seated bow.

‘And feel ever free to speak of it, should you need to –' Heron swept a hand around the table – ‘with any of us.' One by one, the whole group nodded, except for Groundspider, who was staring into his lap. Suddenly he looked up, meeting Moonshadow's gaze.

Moonshadow smiled, though a little warily. Now what would Groundspider come out with? Level-headed or totally crazy words? One could never tell. The big shinobi had a mad sense of humour, but often missed the cue that it was time to be serious. This was, after all, the man who had once
bragged about eating an entire raw goose while out on a mission. All of it, he'd insisted, but the beak. Today however, he
did
look oddly sombre.

‘It's sad that you have to wait,' Groundspider said quickly. ‘And I hope … I hope when she tells you more, it's
good
news.' He clicked his tongue. ‘In a way I envy you, in a way I don't.' Groundspider scratched his solid jaw, then scanned the group. ‘What? Why do you all look surprised?'

Snowhawk smirked. ‘I'm in shock. What you said was actually … sensible!'

Groundspider wagged a finger at her, scowling indignantly. ‘Listen
Snowy
, you and me have bokken sparring tonight, remember? They might be wooden swords, but –'

Mantis hid a smile behind his hand. Heron gave Moonshadow a comforting look.

‘Did I miss anything?' Badger hurried into the kitchen and bowed to Eagle. ‘Forgive my lateness, but –' he glanced coolly at Moonshadow – ‘I had a mess to clean up.'

‘I'm sorry.' Moonshadow gestured expansively. ‘I'll trap them back in my room.'

‘The damage is done,' Badger frowned, folding his arms. ‘But yes, do that,
boy
.'

Moonshadow bowed to the archivist, wondering
how
angry he really was. Motto and Banken had obviously knocked something valuable over – again. But since Badger was almost
always
grumpy, it was hard to judge the seriousness of the matter.

Once a famous writer and teacher, Badger had tutored Moonshadow in battlefield theory and military history. The brilliant archivist could translate books written in foreign languages, design equipment and even crack codes. But despite his many talents, patience and a calm disposition were beyond Badger's reach.

‘Well now that we're
all
here,' said Eagle, giving Badger a suppressing glance, ‘I have news. Notice how quiet the grounds are? That's because overnight, virtually the entire floating population of the monastery departed for urgent missions. Around fifty agents. As you know, they would normally be training here or using the monastery as a base for short-range assignments, coming and going disguised as monks, pedlars or artisans. Well, it became necessary to send them all off on pressing eavesdropping missions.'

‘Oh no,' Heron murmured. ‘What's happened? What are they out to verify?'

‘All of them? Isn't that dangerous?' Mantis gestured at his companions. ‘That leaves only
us
, the trainers and juniors who live here. If the Fuma should attack –'

Eagle wagged his head. ‘A chance we have to take. Don't worry, our boundary guards and hidden alarms remain in place.' Despite his
heartening tone, dread flickered in Eagle's eyes. ‘It was a close decision, but the risk was justified. The Shogun, you see, believes that the web of treason against him now widens fast, drawing in more disloyal nobles and rich, opportunistic merchants. It was our master himself who sent me a lengthy list of names – fresh suspects – that he fears may have joined this conspiracy. His concerns demand urgent action of course, and …' He paused. ‘I'm afraid there is more.'

A flurry of uneasy looks crossed the brief silence. Eagle noted them and went on.

‘Another rumour came my way yesterday which must also be evaluated quickly. If it proves true, it will change everything.' Eagle looked straight at Moonshadow. ‘Your first mission ignited several sparks. It made Silver Wolf your sworn enemy, and triggered his little scheme involving the White Nun. Happily, it brought Snowhawk into our fold. But it also saw you face – and, as far as we know, defeat – the legendary assassin called The Deathless.'

‘With a little help from a certain oddball temple cat,' Snowhawk reminded them, glancing sideways at Badger. She held up her palms. ‘I was there, but too badly hurt to fight, and Moon needed all the help he could get. After all, that man was immune to regular sword-cuts!' She shook her head. ‘A ruthless creature, too. They say he killed his own
master, Koga Danjo, the very one who taught him that immunity to blades.'

‘Danjo,' Heron nodded, ‘a ninja master rumoured to be three hundred years old.'

‘Yes,' Eagle said. ‘Until supposedly murdered by The Deathless.' He folded his arms. ‘Well, here it is: I now have reason to believe that Koga Danjo … is
alive
.'

Snowhawk grimaced. Heron gasped softly. The others were silent, stony-faced.

An image flashed through Moonshadow's mind that set his heart pounding. He saw a rope bridge spanning a rocky gorge, The Deathless standing in the centre of it, beckoning him, glaring with soulless eyes. If Koga Danjo lived, then what about his most famous pupil? True, Moonshadow and Snowhawk had narrowly escaped The Deathless, but his destruction had been assumed, not proven. What if he too was alive?

‘Fine! Let's say Koga Danjo lives.' Badger snorted. ‘How does this concern us?'

‘Because of who he now serves,' Eagle said testily. ‘We know that Silver Wolf plots to kill our master the Shogun and take his place. His wiles alone are burden enough to deal with. But it seems there may be
another
contender for the Shogun's office. A warlord from a western province, whose name, as yet, my sources have not learned.'

‘Hah!' Badger waved a hand in the air. ‘Hardly
a problem. These two rebel warlords will kill each other off, or Silver Wolf will crush this fellow for us – easily!'

‘Not when his rival's bodyguard,' Eagle sighed, ‘is the immortal Koga Danjo.'

‘Koga Danjo is his
bodyguard
?' Heron narrowed her eyes. Eagle nodded.

‘They say that this Danjo,' Mantis added reflectively, ‘is the last great warrior wizard, a survivor of bygone times.' He glanced at Moonshadow. ‘A
powerful
sorcerer.'

Everyone fell silent. Dread filled Moonshadow. He thought of all the wondrous encouragement the White Nun had given him, the hours of sword training he had received since the rescue mission to her dangerous mountain, and of his developing prowess with the Eye of the Beast skill. All strong grounds for confidence, yet this morning's news had instantly snatched his away.

Why did he feel so troubled? Again the rope bridge loomed in his mind's eye.

The kitchen was warm but a chill passed through Moonshadow and he shivered.

He had faced The Deathless and barely survived. And that was merely the pupil.