L5r - scroll 05 - The Crab (18 page)

"Hai, Tono!" Neither the shugenja nor the makeshift silk door made any noise as he left.

Kisada waited a few moments. Kuni Yori was his most trusted adviser, but the daimyo knew that he was not above lingering outside the courtyard to hear what was being discussed in his absence.

"We have the largest standing army in all of Rokugan," Kisada finally said. "But the plan I have in mind will tax even our manpower. We will split our forces into thirds. One-third will remain on the Wall to protect against treachery from our Shadowlands supporter. The second third will leave for Beiden Pass today and march at double-time the whole way. The final third will leave tomorrow morning, but march at a slower pace."

"You wish it to appear that the group that leaves first is heading for one of the other conflicts!" In his excitement, Sukune's voice rose even higher than usual. His father's cunning was impressive.

"Yes," chuckled the Great Bear. "There have been skirmishes along the Lion-Dragon border. Each side will likely view our advance as a move to support their enemy. The Crane have Beiden Pass only lightly defended—they do not want to appear to be asserting control over so important a junction. We will relieve them of that duty and take control of the pass ourselves. Our force will be small enough that the Crane will not see it as a threat to their homeland, but it will be more than enough to take that one position. Before the Crane can get reinforcements, the trailing group will arrive and fortify our position."

"A brilliant plan, Father!" said Yakamo. "I will prepare to leave at midday. It is a shame that you will miss the real action again, Brother, but—"

"I want Sukune to lead the first group," Kisada interrupted.

Neither brother knew what to say. They both assumed that Yakamo would lead the army that was to take Beiden Pass and Sukune would lead the support troops. The younger Hida was never given command of important assignments.

"But, Father!" Yakamo began to complain.

Kisada raised his hand. "Taking the pass should pose little challenge, even to a less-seasoned commander," the Great Bear said. Sukune bore the implied insult without a sound. "Unless the Crane have secretly increased their guard. If that
is
the case, I want my more experienced commander leading the secondary forces so that we are certain to crush all opposition. If we do not take Beiden Pass on the first try, the Crane reinforcements will make it so that we never will."

This seemed to satisfy Yakamo's pride as well as Sukune's desire for a chance to distinguish himself.

"Each of you will take half the Shadowlands armies on your march," Kisada continued. "Remember, they will go where you tell them to, but they will not fight except to defend themselves. Use them as you see fit, but never make the mistake of
trusting
them."

"Yes, Father," both sons said in unison.

Kisada reached inside his armor and pulled out two scrolls. Handing one to Yakamo and the other to Sukune he said, "Unless something goes terribly wrong, you should secure the pass several days before I arrive. Only after the enemy is routed and you've merged your forces, read these scrolls. They will tell you what I expect you to do while you wait for me."

"But where will you be, Father?" asked Sukune.

"Are you afraid to be out in the field alone for so long?" teased Yakamo.

Sukune refused to be taunted. "I merely wonder what other matter could deserve more attention than the taking of Beiden Pass," he said.

"I play the battlefield the way a master plays a go board. Every action sets up the final victory. You will know more when the time is right," Kisada said. "Now go. Some of your troops will meet you on the road to the pass. You want them to have to work to keep up. A good commander never lets his troops appear to be more prepared than he."

"Hai!" said Sukune as he bowed and backed out of the tent.

"Are you certain I should not lead the first force?" asked Yakamo.

"Your chance for battle will come, Yakamo. This will not be as easy an operation as I make it sound. The other clans will put up more than token resistance. If we do this correctly, though, even their combined might will not be able to pry us from Beiden Pass. Now go prepare your own troops—you don't have much more time than your brother."

Yakamo bowed and turned to leave.

"On your way out, tell Kuni Yori to stop lurking around the tent flap and come inside. I've got plans for him as well."

The shugenja lifted the silken door and entered, making a show of looking nonchalant. He bowed to Yakamo as the brothers exited.

"Hai, Tono," Yori said. "You wished to see me."

"Yes," Kisada said slowly. Obviously there was something on his mind. "I have put Sukune in charge of the army that is to take and hold the pass."

Yori looked shocked in spite of himself. Recovering quickly, he said, "I am certain he will shower honor upon himself and the entire clan." In this case, honor meant nothing less than absolute victory.

Kisada paced the length of the dais twice before he said, "I cer-lainly hope so. I've given Yakamo and Sukune different orders. Yakamo's are the more difficult, but Sukune's are the more important. If he fails in his tasks, my entire plan may fall apart. Part of Yakamo's orders are to keep an eye on his brother's command, and never allow Beiden Pass to be taken from us once we control it."

"I understand," said Yori.

"Yakamo will judge his brother harshly," the Great Bear muttered. "I want you to go with Sukune's forces. Act as advisor to my son, but your real job is to be my eyes and ears. I want you to be the final judge of whether or not Sukune is bringing honor to the Hida name."

"I am humbled by your request." Yori bowed deeply.

"If my youngest child brings shame to our clan," Kisada continued. "If Yakamo does indeed have to relieve him of his command, I leave you with an even greater task. You must see to it that Sukune does the right thing. You must make sure that he does not return from the campaign."

"Tono?" Yori looked troubled by the order.

"If he fails so utterly—and if he is a true samurai—Sukune will commit seppuku to save face. But he so often acts in strange ways. If he fails to follow honor's dictates, I want you to kill him." Kisada took a long breath. "I cannot be more plain than that. Do not make me say it again."

Kuni Yori stared mutely at the Great Bear. All he could do was nod in agreement.

"Very well," Kisada said looking relieved that the matter was done. "Now go prepare. Sukune's troops leave at midday."

"And where will
you
be during this opening sldrmish in your war to prevent a war?" Yori allowed a hint of contempt to creep into his voice.

"I will be preparing for the worst," said the Great Bear. He looked at the entrance, and then back to Yori. "My next visitor awaits, and your battalion leaves in a few hours. I will see you at Beiden Pass, Yori."

"Hai, Tono. You will."

On his way out, Kuni Yori bumped shoulders with a small man of about fifty years. The man's face was covered with wrinkles, and his skin was tough and dark from too many years in the sun. He wore a simple outfit of rough cloth, and on his head sat a wide-brimmed peasant hat. He looked like a man who might serve the daimyo meals, but not one whose opinion the great man might seek.

"Come in Taka, my old friend," Kisada said warmly. "You were going to talk to me about boats...."

THE FIRST WAVE

Sukune played his gambit just right. He began by ordering the Shadowlands troops to make camp in a patch of woods about three miles from Beiden Pass—not wanting their presence to alert the Crane forces to his troops' real intentions. Sukune then led the Crab forces toward Beiden Pass at quick time, looking as though they had a long way to go.

"Ho!" the Crane commander called out to Sukune as the Crab forces approached. "You're a long way from your wall."

"Yes, we are!" Sukune answered, motioning his samurai to continue their march while he parleyed with the Crane.

"Off to the Lion lands?"

Sukune grunted—a fair imitation of his brother.

"Say, you're Kisada's youngest, aren't you?" the Crane said when Sukune approached.

If his size and build hadn't given him away, his armor had—it was unlike anyone else's. It

had the very look of a crab to it, as though Sukune had a shell strapped to his back and crushing weapons built onto his bracers.

"Hai!" he answered. "I am Hida Sukune, off to seek honor in battle." Certainly a true enough statement, but not one the Crane had any hope of interpreting correctly.

"I am Doji Kenji," the Crane commander said. "I wish you and your men good fortune in your upcoming battle!"

Sukune knew that before the sun set Kenji would regret those words, but the Crab bowed and thanked the Crane all the same. Without another word he spun on his heels and rejoined his marching troops.

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All through the pass Sukune looked up at the rocks above. There were plenty of nooks and ledges where archers could be posted, but the Crane assigned troops only to those near the beginning and end of the trail. They could easily defend themselves from assailants coming from either entrance, but were completely vulnerable to a two-pronged attack from an enemy already within Beiden Pass.

The pass was a thin stone path through the mountains, wide enough for four or five samurai to march abreast. Here and there, rough, thorny brush grew among the inhospitable gray rocks. Though the autumn remained warm throughout the empire, this road traveled so high across Rokugan's spine that Sukune could see his breath even at midday. It was a cold and lonely place made of unforgiving stone, and a day or more's ride from anyone who might offer support in a time of war.

A great shout went up ahead of Sukune. This was the signal that the front of the battle line had reached the far end of the pass—it was the signal to begin the attack.

"Attack!" Sukune cried. He turned and led his troops in a charge toward the backs of the Crane forces.

Sukune had ordered his troops to give the Crane every opportunity to withdraw or surrender, but he knew none would. Crane measured a warrior's worth by the purest interpretations of bushido—the warrior's code. It would come to a fight—and it would be a slaughter.

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"Traitor!"

Sukune turned at the sound. At first, Sukune did not recognize Doji Kenji. The Crane leader's armor was in tatters. His left shoulder guard had been sliced in two by a Crab blade, and t he right one had been torn off entirely. A katana trembled in the man's grip.

"We offered you safe passage through our lands, and
this
is how you repay us?"

Sukune held his katana at the ready. No matter what words were spoken, a final confrontation was at hand.

"Your safe passage is what will doom Rokugan," Sukune said calmly. "We must stop ail military traffic until the madness that sweeps the empire can be cured."

"The only madness here is Kisada's," Kenji returned. "The other clans will not allow him to botde up all travel within Rokugan."

"Are you all in such a great hurry to kill one another?" asked Sukune, but he could tell that the Crane was no longer listening.

Around them the battle ebbed. Crane soldiers lay dead and dying throughout the pass. Only here and there could Sukune see Crab warriors among them. Beiden Pass would belong to the Crab by nightfall. But first Sukune had to deal with the Crane commander.

"I cannot win this day," said Kenji, "but I
can
ensure that you do not live to celebrate this honorless victory."

Sukune tensed, lifting his katana. His battle strategy was to leave his guard down in the places where his armor offered extra defense, drawing the enemy's attack. So many samurai were trained to react instantly to any weakness, the young Crab was usually able to dupe them into striking just where he wanted them to. Still, Cranes were master duelists.

W
^r
ith a crisp shout, the Crane struck at Sukune's neck. The blow was easily blocked, but its force staggered Sukune, driving him back two steps. Kenji pressed the attack with a triple slash across the chest and abdomen—a maneuver the Crane called Three Winds on the Plain. Sukune deflected the first two blows. The third slid across the belly of his armor, gouging it deeply but not getting through to his flesh.

Sukune desperately slashed back at his opponent. He aimed for Kenji's right shoulder. His katana was neatly blocked by the follow-through from the Crane's successful attack. The sword slipped in Sukune's hands, and he almost dropped it. Recovering his grip cost him his balance. He staggered to a stop turned three-quarters away from his opponent. He tried to spin back but couldn't move fast enough.

Kenji brought his blade down directly at Sukune's back. There was no force under the sun that could prevent the blow from landing.

A loud clang filled the air. Instead of sliding through the light armor most samurai had on their backs, the Crane's blade bounced off Sukune's reinforced armor.

The blow sent shivers of pain shooting through Kenji's arms and even snapped a chip out of the middle of his katana.