Rebels of Gor (85 page)

Swordsmen, some yards on the bridge, crowded, before and behind, were trying to force their way higher on the bridge, both to the left and right.

One swordsman reeled over the railing, into the pond.

Blades of glaives thrust up at us, striking wood, splintering railings, tangling in the vinous blue climbers. Men slipped and fell in the pond, in the muddy water, amidst the disturbed white and yellow flowers. Pertinax seized a thrusting glaive behind the blade and yanked it up, with two hands, blood running down his right arm, shaking loose a startled Ashigaru from the shaft, he plunging back into the water. I feared he had opened his wound, as there was fresh blood at his shoulder, and staining his sleeve, and running down his wrist. Pertinax then thrust at another, who slipped back, screaming, bleeding, his face half cut away, and then Pertinax swung the tool of war to the other side of the bridge, threatening another below, which fellow stumbled back in the muddy water, removing himself from the ambit of the weapon.

I saw an officer fall before the stroke of Yasushi, once a pupil of Nodachi.

Tajima fenced back a second attacker.

I looked wildly about. I held back a moan of misery. New figures were at the gate, unopposed.

“Draw back, draw back!” called Lord Akio. “All is well! Reinforcements arrive!”

“We cannot hold,” called Lord Yamada. “There are too many. Die well!”

“Who can read the fortunes of war?” said Nodachi.

“What is written largely and boldly is easily read,” said Lord Yamada.

“And may be as easily mistaken,” said Nodachi.

“I saw how you handled your sword, stunted monster,” said Lord Yamada to Nodachi. “I fear my blood is indeed within you.”

“Blood is but the beginning,” said Nodachi.

“You are a fool, skillful, misshapen brute,” said Lord Yamada.

“Each must choose his own path,” said Nodachi. “You chose to wed power. I chose to wed the sword.”

“You are a fool,” said Lord Yamada.

“Victories differ,” said Nodachi. “One’s victory is another’s defeat. Each must strive for his own victory.”

“You tread the path of fools,” said Lord Yamada.

“It is my path,” said Nodachi, “I have chosen it for myself. I fear few have done as much.”

“Then tread it well,” said Lord Yamada.

“I shall endeavor to do so,” said Nodachi.

There must have been forty or fifty men now filing through the gate, many, as several of those with Lord Akio, still in the livery of Yamada.

Ela
, I thought to myself. The matter is done! We had held the bridge well, our narrow, wooden field of battle giving our smaller number the equalizing advantages of height and narrowness of access. Indeed, on some of the narrow, graceful, soaring bridges of the high cities of the continent, arching amongst lofty keeplike cylinders, there were many accounts of such high and dangerous passages being defended by one or two men against dozens. Odds of ten to one are considerably qualified when nine of the ten must remain inactive, when the ten must meet the one singly, one at a time, only one at a time.

My despair was occasioned by noting that several of the newcomers carried bows, and full quivers of the long Pani arrows.

Lord Akio’s men had moved back, to allow the approach of the newcomers. Even his Ashigaru, those in the pond, water to their thighs, waded back, glaives held at the ready, away from the bridge.

Two floated in the water, face down.

“We cannot resist the flighted arrow,” said Pertinax.

The bridge, our salvation against the odds arrayed against us, would be our doom with archers, as it would hold us in place.

We would be as vulnerable as penned verr.

I prepared to cry us from the bridge, to regain the land, to fight amidst our foes, that archers must have patience, confronted with moving, confusing targets, that they must be cautious and often hold their fire, lest they strike allies.

I was suddenly apprehensive.

With the drawing back of the men of Lord Akio, both ends of the bridge were now open.

Fighting bodies were no longer interposed between Yasushi and Tajima and the foe at their portion of the bridge, nor, at the other portion of the bridge, that closer to the gate and the raked sand, between Lord Yamada and Nodachi and the foe.

Lord Yamada and Nodachi had turned to look up to me, at the height of the bridge.

Were they awaiting my cry, to abandon the bridge?

“Beware!” cried Katsutoshi.

I had seen the motion, the preparation before, the grace and power of that movement, long ago in the garden, when Lord Akio, forgoing a living target at my behest, as I was a guest of the shogun, had demonstrated the effectiveness of the war fan on a young tree, close by the side of the gardener, Haruki.

I assumed his target was Lord Yamada, but never learned, for Lord Akio suddenly stiffened, and the fan fell behind him.

Warned, Lord Yamada and Nodachi had swiftly turned, but only to see Lord Akio, in his exquisite robes, crumple to the ground.

One of Lord Akio’s men raised his sword to strike Haruki, who stood there, a long, four-pronged garden fork, used for turning soil, bloody to the socket, in his hands, but the blow failed to fall, and the bearer of the lifted sword spun away, his blade lost, he grasping at a long Pani arrow in his throat, blood running through his fingers.

Two more of Lord Akio’s men were struck by arrows, and the rest fled from the garden, through the gate.

The officer apparently in charge of the newcomers approached.

I knew him, for I had met him before, and, indeed, had had unpleasant dealings at his hands.

“Greetings noble lord,” said the officer, bowing to Lord Yamada.

“Who is your shogun?” said Lord Yamada.

“Yamada, of the house of Yamada, great lord,” said the officer.

“You have not come to seize the shogunate?” said Lord Yamada.

“No, great lord,” he said. “I would defend it as long as I could, but I fear it is doomed.”

“It stands,” said Lord Yamada.

“The perfidy of Lord Akio is broadcast,” he said. “He is in league with the house of Temmu. The forces of Temmu, a thousand or more, are nigh.”

“How then are you here?” asked Lord Yamada.

“I have come to die with my shogun,” he said.

“Though the iron dragon has flown?” asked Lord Yamada.

“Yes,” he said.

“You, noble Kazumitsu, special officer, trusted servant, are now daimyo,” said Lord Yamada. “All lands and goods, treasures, houses, fortresses, men and chattels of the traitor, Lord Akio, are now yours.”

“The men of Temmu are nigh, great lord,” said Kazumitsu.

“Gardiner!” called Lord Yamada. “Approach!”

Haruki, the long fork still in hand, in two hands, approached Lord Yamada.

I feared he might raise the fork against the shogun.

“How dared you strike one so far above you, one of the nobility?” asked Lord Yamada.

“To save your life, noble lord,” I suggested.

“No,” said Haruki.

“Why then?” asked Lord Yamada.

“Lord Akio,” said Haruki, “did injury in this place.”

“He failed,” said Lord Yamada.

“He succeeded only too well,” said Haruki.

“I live,” said Lord Yamada.

“His victim does not,” said Haruki.

“What victim?” said Lord Yamada.

“The victim of his cruel and needless crime,” said Haruki.

“I do not understand,” said Lord Yamada.

“In this very garden, Lord Akio gratuitously slew a lovely tree, in the shimmering glory of its youth.”

“I see,” said Lord Yamada.

“I have avenged it,” said Haruki.

“It seems you have saved my life, as well,” said Lord Yamada.

“The occasion, if not welcome, was opportune,” said Haruki.

“I will not owe my life to another,” said Lord Yamada. “What will you accept, in lieu of my life, that your head be spared?”

“I return your life,” said Haruki. “I ask nothing in return.”

“You shall take something, or I shall have your head,” said Lord Yamada. “What will you have, a golden chain, ten flocks of verr, ten herds of tarsk, a house, a dozen slaves?”

“I would that I might be permitted to tend your garden,” said Haruki.

“The post is yours,” said Lord Yamada.

“I fear it will be but briefly held, great shogun,” said Kazumitsu. “The troops of Lord Temmu are nigh.”

“Men swarm now at the gate!” cried Pertinax, from the height of the bridge.

“Hold!” I cried. “Those are not orderly troops. An avalanche, a flood, sweeping all away in its path, could not be less disciplined.”

Kameko screamed, struggling helplessly, in her tether.

“I will not die at the hands of such!” announced Lord Yamada.

“One often has little choice in such matters, father,” said Nodachi.

“Peasants!” cried Yasushi.

“Hundreds,” said Pertinax, pointing.

“Swords ready!” cried Lord Yamada.

The storm of men, like lava pouring through the gate, bearing arsenals of stolen weapons, glaives, and swords, and dozens of implements of farming, rushed forth upon us, and was as though it would engross us, when it stopped, but yards way.

A burly figure, large and thick, emerged before us.

“Where is the noble warrior, Tajima, of the house of Temmu, of the service of Lord Nishida, of the cavalry of Tarl Cabot, tarnsman?” cried Arashi.

“Here!” cried Tajima, rushing forward, then stopping, abruptly, bowing, which bow Arashi, leader of the horde, returned.

“We have risen!” cried Arashi.

“And much destruction have you wrought!” said Tajima.

“The iron dragon flew!” said Arashi.

“Have you not done with looting?” asked Tajima.

“Much may be done in the shadow of the iron dragon’s wings,” said Arashi.

“The sky is clear,” said Tajima.

“The men of Temmu march,” said Arashi. “They are on the road now, but their foragers range widely. They will overrun the land. Villages will burn, fields will be harvested and drained, our flocks and herds will be taken, our women will be carried away.”

“How can you, a bandit, object to banditry,” asked Tajima, “whether that of a dozen greedy rovers or that of an army?”

“When an army passes,” said Arashi, “there is little left to steal.”

“Why are you here?” asked Tajima.

“The world crumbles,” said Arashi. “Our blood has raced. We have had our time. Now we do not know what to do. We need law, time to tend our fields, leaders, the protection of the mighty.”

“The mighty are fallen,” said Tajima.

“You are Arashi, the bandit?” asked Lord Yamada, striding forward, field sword gripped in two hands.

“Yes,” said Arashi.

“You are in the presence of the shogun,” I informed Arashi.

“Yes, great lord,” said Arashi, bowing.

“I shall have you crucified,” said Lord Yamada.

“Not today, Lord,” said Arashi, gesturing behind him, at the restless, massed peasants.

“Noble leader,” I said to Arashi. “You have not come to loot an empty palace, nor steal from the destitute.”

“No, noble one,” said Arashi.

“Great lord,” I said to Lord Yamada. “It is no accident that these troubled men have entered the palace grounds.”

“Unbidden,” said Lord Yamada.

“Yes,” I said, “even unbidden.”

“Some men cannot live without a tyrant,” said Haruki, “either to obey, or defy.”

“And service to the shogunate,” I said, “surely sponges away many stains.”

“We crave no pardon, great lord,” said Arashi.

“Why have you come, bandit?” asked Lord Yamada.

“To pledge to my shogun a thousand Ashigaru,” said Arashi.

The peasants behind him stirred, shouted, and lifted, and shook, their weapons of diverse sorts.

“Your crimes are no more,” said the shogun, “but now return to your villages.”

“How so, great lord?” said Arashi, startled.

“You are not Ashigaru,” said Lord Yamada, “but the metal from which Ashigaru may be formed.”

“We are your metal, great lord,” said Arashi, “shape us into your tool of war!”

There was acclamatory shouting from behind him, and it rang in the grounds of the shogun.

“There is no time, brave fellows,” called Lord Yamada. “The men of Temmu march. They are on the road, they are near.”

“We shall meet them!” cried Arashi.

“You would be cut to pieces, destroyed,” said Lord Yamada, “perhaps to a man. Return to your villages, and hope that you may be spared.”

“And what will you do, great lord?” asked Arashi.

“Wait here, to die,” said Lord Yamada.