War Priest: The Complete Series, page 56
“Yes?” she asked after Meosa trailed off.
“He keeps his secrets, and I’m sure growing up, that this was a vexation for you, a vexation that I’d care not to hear about because humans whining about their terrible childhoods is something that bores me. Your father means well, at least he has semi-convinced me as such. I’m sure he has his reasons for his actions.”
“You don’t know anything about what happened at the School.”
“Listen to you, speaking to me like I haven’t been alive and seen your kind for hundreds of years. I don’t think it would be a stretch for me to say that a world without shinobis and Hidden Warriors might be one that is a bit less devious. We would still have the thugs from the south and the fools from the north to contend with, but at least there wouldn’t be trickery and chicanery every time they met in the middle.”
“We ran into Sengum Minamoto,” Arik said, instantly regretting joining the dialogue with this statement due to the way that Tayaura looked at him next.
“You did?” Tayaura’s glare shifted from Arik to Hojo. “And? Did you do what needed to be done?”
Hojo sighed. “I tried.”
“All of this, all of it is because of him, Father. I can’t believe I’m the one that has to remind you of this!”
Once again, Hojo didn’t say anything. As they sat there in silence, Arik took Tayaura in for a second time, remembering how quiet she had been in the desert. He still found it odd to hear her voice, to know that he had met her several times before.
“What say you?”
Hojo finally looked up at his daughter, who now stood with the tea kettle in her hand as if she were going to toss it at him. He calmly motioned his cup to her and she filled it with agitation, Arik feeling as if he were witnessing a private moment between the two. They were both so focused on each other that he felt as if he were a ghost, and wished there was something he could say to lighten the mood.
As always, Meosa did the exact opposite. “Well, I can see why he abandoned you.”
Tayaura’s face went pale. “Come again?”
“If you were my daughter, I would have left you to defend yourself at that slave coliseum in Omoto. Ha!” Once again, Meosa cackled at his own twisted humor. “No daughter of mine would speak to me with such a biting tongue, I’ll tell you that much!”
The female illusionist set the kettle down and turned to Meosa. “Who… who do you think you are?”
“Who do I think I am? It’s bloody clear who I am! Do you mind if I ask you a personal question, shinobi-ess? Have you ever drowned while standing up? Word to the wise—be respectful of that which you do not understand. That must be something one of your Hidden Warrior false shinobi gurus has surmised.”
“Enough, Meosa.”
Arik was stunned to hear Hojo actually use the kami’s name.
“We need to discuss what it is that we plan to do,” the master illusionist said in an even voice, immediately cutting through any tension in the room. “Our goals align, Tayaura. You do not have to join us, shadow-child, but I have a feeling that the four of us would do better working together. You are here for a reason, after all. You discovered the same information I did, perhaps more, about the supply chain, a weapon build-up outside of Iga destined for the conflict between the North and the South. We are here to disrupt that. And I believe you are here for the very same reason.”
“Go on…”
“A disruption to the supply chain could prevent the war entirely. There are a number of ways that you would have likely played this out, from Nobunaga turning on Kogu, or from Kogu’s actions being discovered by our own government, at least the faction that isn’t already in his pocket. There is a very high chance that the destruction of these weapons will make war at this time impossible, which could lead to a number of other scenarios, including what Arik would like to do.”
Tayaura turned to the disciple. “And what is that?”
“Nobunaga…” Arik cleared his throat, an edge quickly coming to him as he spoke again. “Nobunaga ordered the destruction of my Academy, the Academy of Healing Arts. My family was there. Everyone I know was murdered around me, and my sister—Mori—was taken by Nobunaga.”
Tayaura’s eyes twitched. “You… you were there?”
“I was. I was unable to save her. All I had was a wooden sword…”
The female illusionist looked away. “That sounds like… like something that would be hard to experience. How do you know your sister was taken?”
“Because I saw her.” Arik explained the tournament he had attended in the Crimson Realm, the one at the Double Sword Academy of Combat Arts in Mogra hosted by the late Altai Masamune. “And I saw my healing teacher as well…”
“With Nobunaga?”
“Yes. Which leads me to believe that Master Guri Yarna must have had something to do with the attack. That remains to be seen. But to answer your earlier question, my goal is Nobunaga. His death, the collapse of his campaign to assault the Onyx Realm. I know that there are things about the spillage of blood never being enough, but if I’m able to do this, it will prevent”—Arik shook his head—“countless deaths. An untold number. Not only that…”
Tayaura nodded, clearly recognizing the conviction in Arik’s voice. “Avenging those who have died, your people. I get it.”
“Exactly. And not just them, not just the people at my Academy. But others I have met,” he said, remembering people like Domen, the wooly kayno-herding youth who lived along the outer rim of Mogra. He recalled what it had been like at the tournament to come face-to-face with him, Domen looking for glory, Arik forfeiting the fight.
Thinking about it now made him wish he had truly been able to utilize Meosa to his full potential at that time, perhaps launching himself at Nobunaga. But he also knew that there would have been a complication in doing this. Enenra, a wind kami, and apparently a rival of Meosa’s, had joined Nobunaga. That sort of attack wouldn’t have been doable, even if it was something he fantasized about.
But now that I have the Whispering Sword…
“You know what you are trying to do is impossible, right?”
“Weren’t you the one who was planning to assault Nobunaga’s supply chain by yourself?” Meosa asked Tayaura. “How are the disciple’s goals any different than yours?”
Tayaura never admitted to seeing Meosa’s point as she continued. “I infiltrated Kogu’s operation for a time as well, learning more about what he was doing. But word travels quickly, and I had to flee once Sengum learned that Hojo’s daughter was sniffing around.”
“That was why we encountered you in Iga,” Arik said, remembering his fight against the kitsune-masked woman.
“It is, disciple.”
“Please, call me Arik.”
“I will call you disciple.”
“In that case”—Arik bit his lip—“I agree with Hojo. We have a similar goal. We should be working together on it.”
“You truly have no idea about me, nor do you know my father.”
Hojo cleared his throat. “The disciple and I have been through a good number of things since we’ve met. He is learning, and you would do best to learn from him as well.”
“Learn what exactly? Revivaura?”
“You should be so lucky to understand Revivaura, to be able to utilize it. The things that happen to people that we both know, the people that we care about, he could have stopped all of it. Including your mother’s—”
“You don’t know that.”
“It’s possible, shadow-child. He could have cured your mother’s cancer.”
Arik hadn’t experienced healing cancers before; it was something he would have studied deeper in a mastery school, not something he would likely take on without the guidance of one of his former teachers.
“Show her what you can do, disciple. She must understand.”
“Show her?” Arik asked Hojo.
The master illusionist took out the crystal throwing dagger that Sukitoma had given him and placed his hand on the table. He brought it down onto his hand, wincing as the crystal kunai tore through veins and muscle, blood instantly appearing.
“What are you doing?” Tayaura asked.
Within a few moments Arik was next to Hojo, healing his wound as the master illusionist examined the bloody kunai with a dark look on his face. “Do you understand now, shadow-child?”
Tayaura blinked rapidly, giving away the fact that she was trying to hide the look of astonishment on her face. “I… see.”
Arik was aware by now that people all over Taomoni knew about Revivaura and the disciples who could utilize this particular aspect of chi, yet their reactions to experiencing it happen in real time always varied. Knowing and seeing were two very different things.
“I… I want you to have this,” Hojo told his daughter. “A kami made it for me. There is nothing like it.”
Tayaura looked at the crystal kunai with disgust as blood dripped from the tip to the wooden floor of the safe house. “I’ll pass.”
Hojo cast his head down, his face obscured yet again.
“What else can he do?” asked Tayaura.
“He can use his healing power in a combative way.”
“You sure have become an open book now that you are around your daughter,” Meosa said, warping the tension to some degree. “Why would you have him reveal this power?”
“You’re right. It has been a long day. Perhaps I’ve said enough.” Hojo removed his hand from the table, the crystal throwing knife going back into his robes.
“Show me what else you can do,” Tayaura said as she went for the throwing knife. She pointed at Arik. “Show me.”
“What’s wrong with the two of you?” Meosa asked.
Hojo nodded, never taking his eyes off his daughter as he spoke: “Go on, disciple.”
Tayaura approached Arik, and offered him her hand. As soon as he touched it, Arik released some of the wound he just healed, along with whatever else he had stored up that day.
Tayaura jumped backward, alarm tracing across her face.
She came forward again to instinctively swing at Arik. Hojo stepped in the way, blocking her attack. He fluidly twisted her arm around behind her back, holding her there, keeping Tayaura prone for a moment. “Now do you understand?”
“Let… let go of me.”
Hojo released his daughter.
She looked down at her hand and back up at Arik. “You can transfer the injury, the pain.”
“I can.”
Tayaura found the nearest chair and sat. “This is a lot to process. All of it.”
“I suggest we continue our dialogue in the morning,” Hojo said, calm once again, as if he hadn’t just stopped his daughter’s attack.
“It is morning.”
“Then tonight, shadow-child. Let’s call a truce for now and we will continue our discussions later, once we have had some rest.”
Tayaura blew away a strand of hair that had fallen into her face. “Fine, I agree to a parley.”
****
It might not have been necessary, but Meosa promised Arik and Hojo that he would watch over them while they slept, to make sure that Tayaura didn’t try anything. He said this quietly, while Hojo’s daughter was on the other side of the room near the kitchenette.
“That won’t be necessary,” Hojo assured Meosa, the master illusionist now lying on his back on a straw mat, his conical hat covering his face to shade himself from the columns of light that broke through the shutters.
To be sure that Tayaura didn’t rob them, Arik tucked his sheath beneath the straw mat, the disciple lying on his back and using his satchel to prop his head up, the Mask of the Fallen inside. They hadn’t changed robes and Arik felt dirty, yet just about as soon as both men lay down to rest, they were asleep.
It truly had been a long day.
The disciple awoke several hours later, once Tayaura had reentered the safe house with what looked like a collection of scrolls. It wasn’t quite evening, the sun still bright enough through the shutters to cast pillars of rectangular light across the wooden floor. As his vision blurred into existence, Arik saw that she, too, wore a conical hat, which told him that she had likely stepped out to meet an informant.
Arik stood, and as he did he noticed that a fresh set of robes had been laid out for him at the foot of his straw mat, as for Hojo, who was still resting.
Arik stepped behind a partition and changed, the disciple glad to be wearing fresh clothing.
Tayaura didn’t say anything to him as he approached the table, Arik now seeing that Hojo’s daughter was going over the schematics of what looked to be military installations. It was quite detailed, listing both entry points and materials that were used in building the three installations. There was also a list of siege engines and where they would be stored.
“Is that it?” Arik asked quietly.
Tayaura finally looked up at him, and for a very brief moment, he sensed a sudden softness behind the hard glare on her face. It dissipated as soon as it had appeared, leaving Arik to wonder if he’d seen it in the first place. Perhaps it was a figment of his imagination.
“The amount of trouble I went through to get this, but I have a good spy…”
“What kind of spy?” Arik asked, recalling the lesson Hojo had given him on spies. He continued to keep his voice down to let the master illusionist sleep just a bit longer, if he was indeed resting.
Tayaura paused, something akin to a smirk taking shape on her face. “So you have learned the spy lesson, it seems.”
“Five kinds: local, inward, converted, doomed, and surviving.”
“You can even recite them, would you look at that. I remember what it was like to be your age.”
“My age? We’re around the same age, are we not? I’m twenty.”
“Let me rephrase, disciple. I remember what it’s like to still be new to all of this, to see it with a flowery, curious perspective. That changes, you know. The deeper you delve into the illusionist ways, the harder it is to come up for air. It’s like diving in a flooded cavern in that way. And to answer your question, the man I’m working with would be classified as an inward spy. He is an official working for Kogu, overseeing some of the construction at the site.”
“Did you pay him off?”
“No, I merely borrowed some of the same information that Sengum Minamoto already had on him, that he was a philanderer who has an affinity for other women who aren’t his wife. It’s pretty easy to use infidelity to convince someone to do what you would like. But there are numerous ways to extract information. Find out what they are most afraid to share with the world and threaten to share it. I believe he will soon become a doomed spy, as it is known. He thinks I’m planning one thing, that I’m trying to free some of the people they are holding prisoner there.”
“They have prisoners?”
“Just a few low-level officials from Iga that weren’t willing to look the other way. To do what they have done, to move the supplies that they need to move, they have had to use local sources. They have mostly paid people off, but a bribe can only go so far, and not everyone is for sale. Those not open to negotiations have taken them prisoner.”
“Do you know how many?”
“Just a handful, and it isn’t my focus at the moment. That said, my spy will certainly make the mistake of telling someone what I was after, which I hope will divert some of the guards to the prison camp they have started.”
“How many people are there? Do you have an estimate?”
“This has become a problem with keeping what is happening secret from the Jadean government. Kogu has been moving small pockets of Crimson warriors to the region since before the invasion of your Realm, and those numbers have swelled.”
“There are Crimson warriors there?”
Tayaura nodded. “I’ve only been in once, but I’ve seen the robes, and I would say that there are now close to three thousand. Maybe more. This number is based on documents from a month ago. I assume there are more.”
“Over three thousand? How are they keeping this from the government?”
“The region outside of Iga, the Valleys of the Unknown. How much do you know about it?”
“I’ve only seen the ruins,” said Arik.
“Not a day goes by when a mist isn’t covering certain parts of these valleys. There are numerous areas that have been hidden away to the government for some time. Itako go there occasionally for rituals, and there are said to be strange yokai in the area. Kind of like the one that seems to be attached at your hip.”
“I chose him, not the other way around,” Meosa told her, his form suddenly becoming visible. “And you’d be careful to call me a yokai, shinobi-ess. I am, and will remain, a kami. There’s a distinction. But you are right about that region. It has always been a mystery, which is the reason for its namesake.”
Tayaura gave him a dirty look and continued: “Nobunaga isn’t superstitious, nor is he afraid of yokai. This makes it the perfect hiding place, really, to build an army. Once he is ready, it won’t be difficult for him to lead his troops out of the valley and straight to the border, to Austere.”
“What about food? That must take a lot of food.”
“What do you think Kogu has been supplying, disciple? Food and resources, as well as smuggled weapons from the south. Crimsonians are keen to use their own siege weapons. They do, however, like some of the more explosive material available from the quarries of the Jade Realm. But even with these schematics and what they have or have not yet built, we won’t know more, or…” She hesitated. “I won’t know more until I visit again.”
