Wolves


by
Rich Wulf




            Heiji took a deep drink from his sake bottle and sighed contentedly. Night had fallen over the Suzume Hills. The old bandit had come to enjoy the peace and silence of this place. He could see why the Sparrow had chosen to make their home here; as barren as this region was, at the very least, it was far away from the troubles of the rest of the Empire.

Of course he and his brothers had brought trouble here, but that was another story. He chuckled, sat the bottle on a rock and rose to answer a call of nature in the nearby bushes. When he returned, the bottle was gone.

Heiji glanced around in numb surprise, his katana immediately appearing in his hand. From behind, he heard the tawny sound of a bowstring being drawn. He turned to see a man sitting on a rocky ledge a dozen yards away, the sake bottle at his feet, bow drawn and ready.

“Put the sword down,” the man said.

Heiji nodded, letting his sword clatter on the stones and holding his hands out to his sides.

“Arigato,” the man said. “You did not charge or call for help. Refreshing to meet a samurai who does not throw his life away.”

“If you wished me dead, you would have shot before I saw you,” Heiji said. “I did not survive this long by being foolish.” The bandit cautiously scanned the area for any opportunity to escape, any place he could duck and hide. He was trapped on relatively open ground.

“Calm yourself, my friend,” the stranger chuckled. “I have no desire to harm you, I only wish to speak. My name is Akihiro.”

Heiji grunted. “If you do not wish to harm me, put your bow down,” he said.

“Consider it a precaution,” Akihiro replied. “You are a dangerous man, and I wish to discuss matters that may upset you.”

The sounds of steel on steel erupted from the distant hills, followed by many startled screams.

“My men are fighting yours now,” Akihiro said. “I will have to join them very soon. Do not force me into a brash decision.”

The old bandit scowled. “Speak, then.”

“You are the leader of the bandits who have been attacking the Sparrow farmers,” Akihiro said. It was a statement, not a question. “Lord Suzume has placed a bounty upon your head.”

Heiji nodded, his scowl deepening.

“You know how this sort of thing works, my friend,” Akihiro said. “You have not only injured Lord Suzume’s pride, but his purse as well. All samurai value their honor, but a daimyo must also insure his clan remains well fed and supplied. Lord Suzume is a great man. The difference between great men and small men is great men are allowed to compromise.”

“Compromise?” Heiji asked.

“I could return with your head,” Akihiro said, “or we could return with Lord Suzume’s stolen goods. While the daimyo would be greatly pleased if I were to give him both, he will settle, I think, for just one. So tell me. Where have you hidden the rice and gold that you stole from the Sparrow Clan?”

Heiji said nothing.

“My friend, you told me you were not a foolish man,” Akihiro said. “Were you a liar? Your name is Heiji, correct?”

“It is,” the bandit said.

“Then Heiji, trust me,” Akihiro said, lowering his bow. “We are both wave men. We must do what we can to survive. You have chosen the life of a bandit. I have chosen the life of a bounty hunter. As one wave man to another, know that all I wish is to find favor with the Sparrow. I do not want to kill you, but my men outnumber yours. The stolen gold or your head. I only need to give Lord Suzume one.”

Heiji looked into Akihiro’s eyes for a long moment. “In a cavern to the west, in the shadows of a lilac tree.”

“Arigato, Heiji-san,” Akihiro said, nodding gratefully.

And he fired an arrow into Heiji’s chest.

“I only need to give Lord Suzume one,” he repeated with a smile.


 
            Suzume Yugoki looked at the blood-soaked canvas bag with a sickly expression.

“Take that disgusting thing away,” he commanded. “Please.”

“Of course, my lord,” Akihiro said. “I merely assumed that you would require proof of our victory.” He handed the bundori to his subordinate. The other ronin quickly hurried out of the daimyo’s audience chambers to dispose of the bandit leader’s head.

“Of course, of course,” Yugoki said, clearing his throat and looking away pointedly. “Your services are appreciated, Akihiro-san. You will be rewarded as promised. Simply have your lieutenant speak to my hatamoto and your bounty will be paid.”

“Arigato, Yugoki-sama,” Akihiro said with a deep bow. “After hunting honorless bandits for so long, it is a pleasure to deal with a man who keeps his word. You are the very soul of the samurai.”

“You flatter me,” Yugoki replied. He looked at the ronin intently. “Was there no sign of the stolen goods?”

“Only a tenth of what they stole, which I have already surrendered,” Akihiro said, sounding somewhat embarrassed. “The rest was either hidden too well or the villains had already squandered it by the time we arrived.”

Yugoki gave the ronin a long, patient look. “A pity,” he said. “It is no matter. The Suzume have never placed a high value on material goods. It is our honor that matters, and it is our honor that you have restored. You have the thanks of the Sparrow Clan, Akihiro-san.”

“I need no thanks for doing my duty,” Akihiro answered.

Yugoki looked at the symbol emblazoned over Akihiro’s chest, a blazing sun. “That is the symbol of the Glorious Emperor, is it not?” he asked.

Akihiro nodded. “The mon of Toturi Tsudao, may her light shine upon Tengoku for all time. I served under her in the First Legion.”

Yugoki looked surprised. “You were a member of the First Legion?” he asked.

“I had that honor,” Akihiro replied.

“Yet you wander as a ronin bounty hunter now?” the Sparrow asked.

“When the Legion disbanded, I chose to find my own fate,” Akihiro answered. “After serving the Sword herself, how could I bow to a new master?”

“I had the honor of knowing Lady Tsudao, if only as an acquaintance,” Yugoki said with a sad smile. “The Empire is diminished for her loss. It gladdens me to see men such as yourself fighting for justice as she once did.”

“I am only one man,” Akihiro said. “But I thank you for your kind words, my lord.” He bowed a final time and departed.

The ronin sighed as he made his way through the Sparrow stronghold. Suzume Shiro was a humble, boring place and he would be glad to be gone from here. Though the Suzume were samurai, and thus wealthy by the standards of any peasant, they also considered themselves ascetics. The Sparrow castle was small and sparse – as his reward would be. The sooner he was gone from here, the better. A short stop to gather the rest of the stolen gold from Heiji’s cave and he could leave these lands far behind.

Akihiro walked through the streets of the surrounding village alone. His men would be in the local sake houses now, celebrating their victory. He should join them; after such a victory it was only his right.

Akihiro paused, only for an instant. He turned, briefly studied the wares in a merchant stall, and slipped into an alleyway. The shadow that had been following him moved quickly, recklessly. Akihiro easily leapt from his hiding place, seized the man by his throat, and planted him against the wall with a dagger at his throat.

“You would shadow me, dolt?” Akihiro snapped. “I was trained by the Defender of the Empire.”

“You and a thousand other Legionnaires,” answered a familiar voice.

Akihiro’s eyes widened as he recognized the face hidden beneath the heavy hood. He released the man, clapping him heavily on the shoulder as he sheathed his blade.

“Tawagoto,” Akihiro said with a broad smile. “It has been too long.”


 
Fifteen Years Ago, near Yushosha Seido Mura…

 

They told him war would be glorious.

Akihiro stood with his back to the village wall, his sword clutched in both hands. The Yobanjin riders were everywhere, slashing with their broad blades or bearing down on his comrades mercilessly with long spears. Dozens of samurai lay bleeding and dying upon the earth. In the distance, he could hear the rallying cry of reinforcements. The First Legion was regrouping to crush the ambush, to drive the Yobanjin to their mountains. For the Sword, today would still bring victory. If Akihiro could only survive a little while longer, he might even share in it.

He looked up at the sound of a savage cry. A Yobanjin rider galloped toward him, spear aimed at his chest. Time slowed as Akihiro lifted his sword. He knew he would not have time to strike. He would not have the strength to knock the man from his steed, as weary as he was. He was not swift enough to leap aside in time. This would be his death, his glorious death.

If this was the glory he had been promised, he did not want it.

At least his father would be pleased.

A piercing whistle underscored the Yobanjin battle cry - and ended it. The horseman tumbled from the saddle with an arrow in his throat. The Yobanjin’s confused mount raced onward, galloping past Akihiro and into the wilderness.

The archer who had saved his life stood nearby, drawing another arrow and firing it into the Yobanjin horde. Like Akihiro, he wore no clan colors other than the First Legion’s emblem. A ronin?

“To me!” the man shouted to the survivors. “The Sword is coming! Let us make our final stand!”

Akihiro shouted in reply, lifting his katana high in salute. A renewed burst of energy surged through him. He wondered at first if it was the work of some hidden shugenja, but he knew that it was not. This was hope renewed, and he would not waste it. He stood back to back with the other ronin as more survivors gathered close. All wielded their weapons with fierce, hunted expressions. The Yobanjin riders galloped around them, circling for the kill.

“Weigh the cost, barbarians!” the other ronin shouted, his voice thundering over the battlefield. “Flee now and you may survive the day. Stand and fight, and we may die, but we will not fall easily… and the Sword will punish you all.”

A trumpet echoed from the approaching reinforcements. The Yobanjin glanced at one another uncertainly. They might not understand the words, but they understood the meaning. One of the larger horsemen barked something in his guttural tongue and waved a banner in the air. At his command, the others fell into formation and galloped from the field as fast as they were able. As Lady Tsudao’s forces crested the ridge, the other surviving soldiers gave a resounding cheer. Akihiro found himself cheering as well. The sight of her banner, the golden sun on an emerald field, was the sweetest sight he had ever seen.

Was this glory? Or was this merely survival?

Whatever it was, it was good enough.


 
            The sake house had become a place of wild revelry since Akihiro’s men had returned. The ronin were elated by their victory, and the locals were eager to welcome their new heroes. The sounds of their celebration resounded through the small sake house, even into the small private chamber where Akihiro and his old friend had retreated. Tawagoto opened the door just a crack so he could watch the common room, vigilant for any new arrivals. Akihiro studied the other man curiously. Tawagoto had the air of a hunted man.

“It is good to see you again, Tawagoto-san,” Akihiro said, pouring sake into two cups. “I take it, then, that you have reconsidered my offer and decided to join me?”

“The life of a wandering mercenary suddenly appeals to me,” Tawagoto replied.

“Really?” Akihiro replied, unconvinced that there was nothing more. “What of Rie and Shigeko?”

“My daughter and mother are well cared for,” Tawagoto answered. “The further they are from me, the better they will fare.”

“Intriguing,” Akihiro said with a chuckle. “What have you done, Tawagoto-san? Something romantic or heroic, no doubt, in your case. Perhaps you are hunted by an angry magistrate for despoiling his pretty young daughter?”

Tawagoto looked at Akihiro gravely. “I murdered a Seppun magistrate and six of his Legionnaires,” he whispered.

Akihiro’s eyes widened. He took a long drink before looking at his friend again. “Do not make such a jest, Tawagoto,” he said in a low voice.

“I do not jest,” Tawagoto said. “Seppun Sugita was a corrupt and vile man. He intended to murder a village so that he would gain glory.”

“Does anyone know it was you?” Akihiro asked.

“The villagers know, but they share my guilt,” Tawagoto said. “I trust their silence. Sugita believed that the village was withholding taxes so that they could gather weapons and supplies… the people were simply starving. Sugita paid me to put down the imagined rebellion. I returned with the head of one of the villagers, an old man who died of hunger shortly before I arrived. I led Sugita’s men into an ambush. None survived, but any of his servants who saw me return to accept my payment might have assumed I was responsible.”

Akihiro smiled bitterly. “When dealing with Imperials it is always best for a ronin to be cautious,” he said. “Even their suspicions can crush a lone wolf.”

“I do not wish for my troubles to become yours, Akihiro,” Tawagoto said. “I have nowhere else to go and I have very little money, but I would not force you to share the burden of my crimes.”

Akihiro looked dubious. “No money? The Seppun did not pay you as he promised?”

“He did,” Tawagoto answered. “I gave most of the money to the villagers.”

Akihiro chuckled. “Of course you did,” he said. “You were always the noble one.”

“Would you not have done the same in my place?” Tawagoto asked.

“I do not know,” Akihiro said. “I could tell you what I think I would do, but that would be a useless answer – only words. The Fortunes test all of us and perhaps this is my test. Do I accept an old friend even though he may be a fugitive?”

Tawagoto looked at Akihiro evenly. “Tell me to leave, and I will go,” he said.

“I jest, of course,” Akihiro said with a sudden laugh. “If I should die for protecting you, so be it. I would only be repaying my debt. I welcome you, Tawagoto… and I can always use another good bushi.”

“Arigato, my friend,” Tawagoto said, looking greatly relieved. He sighed and drank his sake. “Should I perhaps take an alias? A new name so that I will not be found?”

“Why bother?” Akihiro asked. “We are ronin. No one cares what a wolf calls himself. If this Seppun was as foolish as you say then perhaps you will be fortunate. Perhaps none will mourn his passing enough to investigate his death too deeply. In any case we will avoid Phoenix lands... just to be safe.”

Tawagoto nodded and drank again. “Was it always this way, Akihiro?” he asked. “A fiend like Seppun Sugita would have had no place in the Sword’s Empire.”

“To be honest, I think he would have,” Akihiro said.

“Toturi Tsudao would not have allowed those villagers to suffer,” Tawagoto argued.

“Who is to say she would ever know?” Akihiro asked. “An Emperor stands above us all, but apart from us as well. They give commands, and samurai obey. To an Emperor, details are small things… but small men can be destroyed by small things. Your Sugita does not sound like an evil man. A lazy man, perhaps. An arrogant man, surely. Combine such traits with unquestioned power and that is where the danger lies. I revered Lady Tsudao, as you do, but if you believe her rule was free of corruption then you are mistaken. Take me, for instance. Did you never wonder how I was appointed to the First Legion?”

“You told me it was for your mother’s meritorious service to the Yogo family,” Tawagoto answered.

“Hai,” Akihiro said. “That’s the respectable way to put it, at least. A samurai lord will do many things to keep his secrets, Tawagoto. Rewarding an illegitimate son with a prestigious appointment is but a trifle. My mother blackmailed the Scorpion so that her son would be given a promotion beyond the life of a lowly ronin. Her reward was to see me placed on the front lines during Lady Tsudao’s war against the Yobanjin. She died of a mysterious, random illness not soon afterward.” Akihiro sneered. “No doubt if she had not crossed the Scorpion her fate may have been different. I hear they have talented herbalists. Perhaps they might have cured her.”

“Did you ever seek revenge against your father for what he did?” Tawagoto asked

“I’m no idiot,” Akihiro said. “My father felt the score was even; I am content to leave it at that. That’s the difference between you and me, Tawagoto. I know when to stop fighting.”

“You never told me any of this,” Tawagoto said.

“Why would it matter to you?” Akihiro asked. “Why would you care? My point is the Empire is not as perfect as you imagine. There has always been shame. There has always been dishonor. Your father was a hero, Tawagoto. Mine was not.”

“So what comes next for us?” Tawagoto asked.

“What always comes next?” Akihiro replied. “We survive. You were wise to come to me. The clan samurai call ronin wolves, and the comparison is valid – the best way for a wolf to survive is in a pack.”

Akihiro did not answer for a long time. “Is survival all there is for men like us?” he finally said in a bitter voice.

“Don’t be a fool, Tawagoto,” Akihiro said. “The Empire girds itself for war. Have you not seen it? Survival, I think, will be the greatest feat of all.”