Nightblade's Honor Read online

  He had to act quickly. The chaos he unleashed would turn on him in a few moments. His primary problem was the eight spears in front of him. If he gave them a chance to work together, he would have little hope of surviving.

  Four of the spears were in front of the platform, and two were on each side. They didn’t guard the rear of the structure, but Koji hadn’t thought of sneaking around.

  The spearpoints came down in an attempt to block Koji, but he still had room to move. He sensed where each of the spears was going to be and knew exactly where an open space was going to be in just a heartbeat. He stepped toward the space, entering it the very moment an opening appeared. His blade flashed in the early morning sunlight, and two of the eight spears were down.

  For the first time he spotted a direct line between him and Shin. The king saw the open path as well and backed away toward Minori.

  The remaining spears from the front of the platform struck out at Koji. He deflected their strikes, deciding whether to return their attack or pursue Shin.

  Instinct told him to eliminate more of the guards before approaching the usurper. Six working in tandem could still trap him.

  Koji slapped away a half-hearted stab attempt and lunged forward. The two spears retreated, keeping him out of sword reach with their longer weapons. For a moment, Koji thought of Asa and wished he had her skill with throwing blades.

  He didn’t have the time for a drawn-out fight. Every heartbeat gave his enemies a chance to gather, a chance to overpower him. That couldn’t happen.

  Not until he’d killed Shin.

  Koji lunged again, but as the spears came up to defend, the blade went low. He shoved the spears up with the side of his sword. He was inside their guard, just where he needed to be. Killing strikes would take too long, but he cut at their legs, crippling them.

  Everything came down to time, the one resource he was quickly running out of. The spears on either side of the platform were coming around to the front, but Koji knew if he engaged them, he wouldn’t escape alive. Four down would have to do. He turned and pulled himself up on top of the platform.

  Time slowed. Koji saw and sensed everything. Shin couldn’t get away. He knew the truth, and the fear on his face was absolute, his features twisted into a grotesque visage. Koji savored the fear and held his sword back for just a moment, to give Shin another few heartbeats of pure terror.

  Off to the sides, Shin’s guards were trying to react. If Koji had given them more time, they might have had a chance to be effective. One guard, desperate to delay the inevitable, drew back his arm to throw his spear. Koji sensed the movement and stepped back, allowing the spear to pass harmlessly in front of him.

  The extra pace gave Shin enough time to form a coherent sentence. “If you do this, the Kingdom will burn!”

  Koji glanced toward where Haven had once stood, the great metropolis now only marked by hollowed-out ruins and thin wisps of smoke rising into the autumn air. The only structure that remained was the city’s stone wall. He met Shin’s frightened stare with his own, cold and remorseless as the steel he held in his hands.

  “You started the fire.”

  Shin’s face contorted once again, and Koji held his sword just long enough for the king to realize he had no hope of living, no hope of surviving this encounter. When he saw that Shin understood, the blade’s sword came across in one quick cut, drawing a thick red line across exposed neck.

  Shin collapsed, but Koji could still feel the life inside of the king. Koji’s cut had been fatal, but not instantly. He let the sense of failure haunt the doomed monarch for a few moments longer, stepping over the prone man to stand in front of his master.

  Koji’s actions had bought him a few moments of confusion. The guards were momentarily stunned, unsure how to react now that their king was dead. The nightblade knew the indecision wouldn’t last long.

  Minori’s eyes were bright and danced with pleasure despite his pain. Koji already knew the answer, but he studied his master to see if there was any chance of escaping with the older man.

  There wasn’t. The physical damage Minori had suffered was incredible, and the only possible way to escape would be to pull out all the nails and carry his fellow blade. The likelihood of either warrior living through the attempt was zero, and Koji saw that Minori knew the truth as well.

  Minori glared at the young man he had once rescued from prison. “Kill me. Now.”

  Koji hesitated for a moment. He could give Minori a warrior’s death, a death worthy of the man, and he would.

  “Do you have any last words?”

  Minori’s voice held no hesitation, and although the effort must have caused him impressive physical pain, his voice was strong and clear.

  “Protect the blades. Protect the Kingdom.”

  Koji nodded and raised his steel. The cut was at an awkward angle, and he wanted to make sure his aim was true.

  “And Koji,” Minori rasped.

  “Yes?”

  “Thank you.”

  Koji gave Minori a small bow of respect. He would have given a deeper bow, but the guards were clambering onto the platform, and his time was short. Koji saw a path out. He would have to fight, of course, but he was certain he could escape.

  Koji’s and Minori’s eyes met one last time, and then Minori raised his head, looking up to the sky, exposing his neck. Koji took one deep breath and swung.

  His cut was perfect.

  Chapter 2

  Despite her better judgment, Asa remained around the ruins of Haven for Minori’s trial. After burning the bodies of Kiyoshi and the real king, Masaki, Asa had planned on wandering the Kingdom. But she had felt that watching the trial would close the book on everything that had happened in the past few moons.

  That was what she wanted: to put her entire past behind her, to start new and fresh as though she still had her entire life on the horizon.

  Yet as she listened to the accusations made against Minori, her haunted memories replayed themselves in her mind. She couldn’t forget the blade who had come to their home to inform her family of her father’s murder, or the cycles she’d spent training and tracking down the murderer, an enigmatic nightblade named Osamu.

  More than those memories, though, she wanted to forget the stabbing betrayal she’d felt when she discovered Osamu was Kiyoshi, King Masaki’s closest adviser and friend, and a powerful dayblade.

  She had tracked him across the plains, only a few dozen leagues from where she now sat, watching this farce of a trial. Then she had killed him.

  At least Asa wished the final battle had been that simple. She had dealt Kiyoshi a serious blow, one that might have been fatal in the open expanse of the prairie they had fought in. But Kiyoshi had also wounded her fatally. In the end, he had used his energy to save her, dooming himself in the process. Remembering it now still threatened to conjure tears.

  Despite her life’s work being completed, Asa felt as though something was missing. So she remained here, thinking Minori’s trial would tie up the loose ends of her story. She had no doubt her fellow nightblade would be found guilty and Shin would solidify his power over the throne. The question of the blades was an open one, but she suspected once Shin’s hold on the throne was firm, he would ease up on his antiblade rhetoric and eventually the world would return to normal.

  Asa listened half-heartedly to the trial. She didn’t believe any truths would come to the surface. Politicians were rarely trustworthy, and she had seen little in the past cycle to shake her from that notion. Minori’s trial was a sham, but no one seemed to think so. The trial was all anyone talked about, and as Asa walked through the crowds, she was surprised by the amount of frustration and anger heaped on Minori.

  The anger saddened her. People’s homes were destroyed, their livelihoods a mere memory. They should be focusing on the future instead of seeking to place blame for the past.

  Asa pushed through the crowds day after day. She couldn’t extend her sense more than a few paces. Any more
would have overwhelmed her mind and sent her crashing to the ground. Unlike those surrounding her, she was dressed in warmer winter robes. She had left Haven with all her possessions days before the burning.

  That made her more fortunate than most. The city had been evacuated hastily, and people had left with the clothes on their backs and little else. The autumn was too cold for the garments the people wore, and the masses huddled together for heat, their arms clenched tightly around themselves as they shivered constantly. Many wore nothing but thin bed robes when they left their tents. They darted from group to group, always keeping close to others for warmth.

  Despite the shame of being so poorly dressed in public and for the freezing weather, citizens were still out day after day, ready to heap their rage on the nightblades, represented by Minori.

  On the morning of Minori’s execution, Asa promised herself she would leave that evening. There was no point in remaining any longer. If Minori’s death didn’t close the chasm inside her, the only other option she could think of was to give herself time to heal.

  Asa didn’t try to push anywhere near the front of the crowd. She was disguised as a commoner, but hatred for the blades was as high as it had ever been, and she didn’t feel the need to attract any attention. Instead, she remained near the back of the crowd, making sure an escape route was always nearby. As more people pushed into the crowd to see the execution, Asa drifted backward, keeping to the loose collections of people in the rear.

  Minori was brought out and placed into position. As she watched, she was disappointed. This moment was supposed to have brought her closure, but after looking at the broken figure of the nightblade, once so proud, she felt overwhelming sorrow. For all the scheming and effort Minori and Kiyoshi had put into opposing each other, their reward was the same: a premature journey to the Great Cycle. They had both worked so diligently to secure a future for the blades, but in the end, the blades were more hated than ever before.

  Shin was speaking to the audience, but Asa couldn’t hear his words from her position in the crowd. She wouldn’t have listened if she could.

  The emptiness in her that had once been an annoyance, an itch to be scratched, had just become deeper, more troublesome.

  Seeing the conclusion to her story was supposed to close her wounds, but watching Minori hang from the post tore open a hole in her heart almost as deep as the day she learned her father was dead.

  Kiyoshi’s life and Minori’s life. Both had been meaningless.

  And her revenge had been meaningless. Her actions hadn’t brought her any peace. She woke up feeling no different than she had two moons ago or two cycles ago.

  Asa wanted to cry, to scream into the sky, to beat the snow-covered ground with her fists.

  Instead, she stood as still as a statue, staring at Shin as he spoke.

  Her anguish was such that she needed a few moments to realize something was happening up front. Eventually, as her focus clawed its way into the present moment, she saw that the platform was under attack from a single individual.

  Asa knew who the attacker was even before she saw him. Only one person would try.

  She watched as Koji dodged a spear. Watched as he hesitated, just a few moments, before killing Shin. Watched as he gave Minori a warrior’s death.

  Through it all, she didn’t care.

  She didn’t care that Shin was dead or that Minori hadn’t experienced his true punishment.

  She didn’t even care that Koji was still alive.

  The crowd panicked, a reaction Asa didn’t understand. They were in no danger. Onlookers trampled over one another in an attempt to get as far away from the platform as possible, as though Koji was somehow out for each of their lives. The uncrowded rear of the gathering was suddenly slammed with people trying to escape.

  For several heartbeats, Asa stood there, the crowd parting around her as though she was a rock in a powerful river. Her eyes were on the platform far ahead but remained unfocused, staring off into space.

  Finally, the more rational part of her mind inserted itself and reminded her it would be wise to leave with the crowd. She turned slowly around and walked away, feeling meaningless against the power of the Great Cycle.

  Asa returned to the tent she had been calling home for several days. She had plenty of money, enough to rent a room at an inn even with the vastly inflated prices chaos brought. However, she believed the money was going to have to last her a long time, so she kept her purse strings tied and pretended to be a refugee from Haven.

  Asa carried little, living most of her life on the road. Her only possessions of any worth were her weapons, and those remained on her at almost all times. Small but deadly throwing knives were in sheaths wrapped around both of her forearms. A longer knife with a thin hilt rode in a sheath on her inner left thigh. Her two short swords, her primary weapons, had different homes depending on her circumstances. As she was in hiding, today they were tied to her back between her shoulder blades, underneath her clothing. She packed what little remained in the tent and took one last look before departing.

  Her overwhelming desire at that moment was to be away from the ruins of Haven. Not only had she not found closure, but Shin’s death would spark a war. Asa was as certain of that as she was of the sun rising tomorrow morning.

  The events of the past two moons had sent armies from each of the three great houses hurtling toward Haven. Shin’s actions had stopped that conflict from happening, but all three armies were still camped around the area, each about a full day’s march away. Now that he was dead, no one stood between the masses of soldiers.

  A few steps away from her tent, Asa was confronted with another problem. She didn’t know where to go next. The obvious answer was to go back to Starfall and report to Hajimi, the head of the Council of the Blades. But when she thought the plan through, she realized there would be little benefit.

  Hajimi would learn enough of what happened through his other sources. Asa didn’t feel the need to dishonor the name Kiyoshi had made for himself in his second life. Beyond that, the leader of the blades had far more important matters to worry about.

  She could turn herself in, as poster after poster suggested she do. But she was nobody’s fool and recognized a death sentence when she saw one.

  A stiff breeze blew through the refugee camp. Asa wasn’t certain if the weather was a fluke or if winter was truly coming early this year. Either way, the cold was a real danger to the thousands who had no more substantial shelter than the tents.

  The thought of the cold made Asa think of the mountains, and just like that, her decision was made. She had always wanted to spend more time in the mountains, a terrain she rarely traveled through. The best place for high, breathtaking peaks was in the late Lord Juro’s kingdom. Lacking any better options, the impulse was enough to act as her guide. Asa turned toward the northeast and walked away from the camp.

  Eventually the crush of people lessened. The outskirts of the refugee camp were far less crowded than the center, and Asa got a glimpse of the impending chaos. Supply wagons were halted outside of the makeshift city, stopped by a lack of direction. Asa observed some wagons, fully loaded with needed supplies, leaving the area. A tentative peace hung over the camp, but it wasn’t the relaxing peace of a slow summer evening; rather, it was the absolute stillness before a storm crashed over the plains.

  Shin had been the one who set up the refugee camp and provided supplies. Now that he was dead, uncertainty reigned. Asa shook her head in worry. Not only would battle soon be joined, but this camp, which had supported those who had lost their homes, would be a site of chaos as people struggled to find food. Disaster was right in front of everyone, yet no one was taking the time to avert it.

  If Kiyoshi had still been alive, he would have done something. Asa was convinced of that. The thought caused her to pause. Was there something she could do?

  As quickly as the thought came, it left, and Asa continued on her way. She wasn’t Kiyoshi, and all his eff
orts had come to nothing. She couldn’t save the refugee city, and the truth was she didn’t much care.

  She was on the edges of the camp when she came across a family trying to leave via wagon. One of the wagon’s wheels had come off, and the vehicle had tipped, spilling the family’s possessions across the ground.

  Without thinking, Asa moved to help the family. She set down her own bag and collected a few of the spilled items, handing them to the wife as she loaded the cart. The woman gave her a short bow.

  Asa had collected several loads when everything went wrong. A moment of carelessness gave her away. Instead of squatting down to pick up a sack of rice, she bent at the waist. Asa didn’t see the glance, but when she stood back up, the bag of rice in hand, she noticed the look of terror on the woman’s face.

  She didn’t need to be told what had happened. The only women who carried swords in the Kingdom were blades.

  The wife screamed, “Nightblade!” and the entire world sped up.

  Asa threw out her sense, contained for so long among the crowds. Only a handful of people were nearby, but one group of four was running toward them almost in formation. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed they were soldiers.

  Her sense picked up another motion. The husband, the man who had been working on repairing the wagon, stood up and pulled a scythe from the family goods. She saw the combination of anger and fright on the man’s face, but he still stepped forward, his anger at the blades overpowering his fear of their abilities. In a moment all her help toward his family had been forgotten.

  Asa could have killed them. Even the soldiers moved like standard infantry. Against the speed of her blade, no one stood a chance. But she didn’t want to spill any more blood. Asa tossed the bag of rice at the husband, turned, and grabbed her own bag, sprinting away.

  She sensed the pursuit behind her and felt a lone archer pulling his bowstring back to his cheek. His aim was true, but Asa knew the moment he released the string. She stopped in her tracks, and the arrow split the air in front of her.