Imperial Sunset

By Dan Devine

Shin

The summer air was steamy and oppressive, even at this altitude, but Shin could not have been happier to be out in the sun. This past year had lasted an eternity, living as an exile, hidden in the homes of others. Not that he held anything but gratitude for Lord Min and their other allies. Many nobles had put themselves at great risk by sheltering he and the emperor, but a man can live only so long in the shadows before once more seeking the light of day.

So even as the men on the work crew cursed the cloudless sky and the baking heat, Shin raised his eyes and offered a silent prayer of thanks to the Sun Goddess. Of course, he wasn’t the one who had to do all of the heavy lifting.

“Put your backs into it, you slugs!” he chided. “These stones aren’t going to stand up and build a wall on their own.”

His response was a broad range of muttered obscenities. Shin may not be able to make out the men’s words, but it was easy enough for him to imagine what was being said. A stricter man might have taken one to task as a matter of pride, but Shin was content to note that they had picked up their pace. He watched them a while to ensure that the foreman was doing a competent enough job, then moved on to the next group of laborers.

The construction of Daigo’s new headquarters was a nightmare of logistics. Erecting a castle was no easy matter to begin with, but the limitations that Shin had imposed upon these builders verged upon insane. His entire plan was insane. He could not entirely believe that Daigo had agreed to go through with it. There were still nights where Shin woke up sweating, barely able to keep himself from rushing to his Emperor’s bedside to beg him to call the whole thing off.

One fact was certain.

In the history of warfare, no castle such as this one had ever been constructed. Win or lose, he doubted another ever would be again. No complete set of the plans for its design even existed, unless you counted the copy within Shin’s head. The samurai had taken great care that none of the architects in the emperor’s employ knew enough to piece together the larger picture by comparing notes with another, and each of these individual construction crews knew only the task at hand.

That had necessitated using three times as many workers, of course, which was sheer folly given their limited resources. But Daigo agreed that they had done all that they could while living in a state of exile. Something drastic was needed if they ever hoped to break Abdicate Fuji’s hold over the country.

This certainly qualified as that.

Shin reached the next group’s location and began examining their prior work. Shaking his head, he called out for the workers to stop. They hesitated, looking at each other in confusion, and the foreman frowned slightly in Shin’s direction before recognizing him and mastering his emotions.

The mortar here was being spread on much too thickly. Shin explained this to the silent foreman, whose eyes could not hide their disdain. Shin was sure that the man saw him as some pampered court noble, one who’d never lifted a finger towards real work in his life, now presuming in his arrogance to tell the man how to do his job. No doubt, he thought the emperor a cheapskate, pinching pennies by rationing out even the most basic materials.

Let him think whatever he wanted.

Shin refused to relent, and pointedly stood watching with his arms crossed before his chest as the workers applied the next layer. Despite the bickering, it was much more to his liking. Appeased, he moved on to the next work crew, making a mental note to recheck this stretch of wall again later. If the foreman changed back to his old habits once Shin was out of sight, then the work would need to be broken down and redone.

It was frustrating, he would have to be constantly vigilant in the weeks to come. Who knew what slight error might doom his plan in the long term? He sighed dramatically, but in his heart he was happy. It had been too long since he’d had a chance to be useful, and he was glad for the challenge.

* * *

Fuji

The heat was truly brutal today. The abdicate sat at a table near the fountain dominating the center of his private gardens. He sipped an iced drink and watched the cool water cascade down along the ornate carvings, pouring from the mouths of jade fishes to overflow the curves of ivory flower petals. Following the path of the falling water always relaxed Fuji and somehow made the heat more bearable, as did the small army of servants who stood nearby fanning him enthusiastically.

If only the abdicate were twenty years younger, he might leap into the fountain for a quick swim. Still, he shouldn’t complain. At least in the heat his joints did not ache, as they did in the cold and the damp.

A rustle in the ring of guardsmen surrounding the guarden warned that someone was approaching, but the abdicate did not bother to raise his eyes from the fountain.

“My Lord, Minister Abe to speak with you,” announced Narafune, his herald, in his deep, rich voice.

Hmm, an unexpected visit from the Intelligence Minister. That was unusual enough to draw his attention. Perhaps this would add some interest to another long, boring summer’s day. Fuji waved the man forward.

Abe was an unremarkable man, which Fuji supposed must be a helpful attribute for a spy. However, since his elevation to the head of Fuji’s intelligence bureau, Abe had made certain that his bland face was known to all. It was certainly no secret that Abe reveled in his status, as he enjoyed sending men great and small scurrying to fulfill his merest whim, lest word of their misdeeds reach the ears of the abdicate. His arrogance was quickly becoming legendary.

In contrast, here before the abdicate the man’s eyes showed nothing but fear. With good reason, Fuji reflected. It had been necessary to remove Abe’s predecessor after the imbecile’s men not only botched their attempt on his grandson Daigo’s life, but allowed him to escape the city’s walls altogether. And a spymaster knows far too many things that need to be kept quiet. So, Asano’s retirement had not been a pleasant one.

As he prostrated himself before Fuji’s feet, Abe had to be aware that every breath that the abdicate’s traitorous grandson took was another black mark against him.

Fuji motioned for Abe to rise and take the seat at the table besides him.

“What a wonderful surprise, my good minister,” purred the abdicate. He flicked is eyes towards a hovering servant who promptly laid a plate of fruit before Abe and filled his hand with a glass of chilled plum wine.

Fuji smiled and eyed Abe appraisingly, watching him squirm beneath his gaze. After a moment’s hesitation, the spymaster cautiously took a sip of wine.

Fuji waited until he was in mid-swallow.

“You bring good news, I hope?” he prompted.

Abe sputtered and choked a bit. His mouth was too full to speak, but he dared not appear as if he was ignoring a direct question from the abdicate. Dribbled wine spread to form a dark stain on the expensive cloth of his white his robe.

“Yes, my Lord!” he responded at once. Then, as if thinking better of his initial enthusiasm, he moderated this by adding. “Well, in part.”

Fuji’s welcoming smile quickly disappeared, causing his expression to match the coldness already present in his eyes.

“Well, which is it?” he demanded, allowing his well-controlled voice to show just the slightest hint of irritability. “Good news or bad?”

Abe paused uncertainly for a moment, gaping foolishly and reminding the abdicate of one of the carp swimming in the bowl of the fountain besides him.

“Daigo has been located at last,” said Abe finally, apparently deciding that the safest course was simply to state facts.

This was wonderful news, but Fuji did not allow any of his pleasure in hearing it to show upon his face. He continued to stare at Abe darkly. That the minister had not presented this information triumphantly, like a dog seeking a reward from its master, clearly signaled that there was more to tell.

In the heavy silence, Abe sipped his chilled wine too quickly, wincing as it caused his head to ache.

“He is constructing a castle in the barren hills to the southwest and calling to his banners,” the minister said finally.

“Tremendous!” exclaimed Fuji in mock excitement. “I give you an entire ministry full of informants and all if takes for you to locate my enemy is that he start raising towers to the sky!”

Fuji paused for a moment to let that sink in before striking a thoughtful pose and continuing in a tone dripping with dangerous sarcasm.

“You know, come to think of it, I might have noticed that by myself.” Fuji removed any playfulness from his tone. “What only makes me wonder why I keep you around.”

Abe winced again, but this time it had nothing to do with his drink. He did not bother to make excuses, but got right to the matter, Fuji was reluctantly impressed.

“This could act in our favor, my Lord!” declared Abe.

“How so?”

“My men have been trying to track down Daigo’s closest supporters for months, but now he will draw them out into the open and do our work for us!”

Fuji considered this. He had little doubt that Lord Min, that two-faced son of a demon, and his closest confidants were the ones who had been sheltering Daigo. However, his investigators had never been able to find enough proof, and he could not be entirely certain that others were not involved. Fuji had not thought it safe to act until he knew the true strength of his foes, but if his enemies were to grow too bold and show themselves, he would be able to remove all of them with one cleansing blow. Like so many weeds pulled from his beautiful garden.

“What you say has merit,” stated the abdicate. Abe gulped audibly, entirely unable to conceal his relief. Fuji frowned at him. “You get to keep your head another day.”

The words sounded like a jest, but Fuji’s eyes made clear the threat. With a wave of his hand he dismissed the minister, who nearly tripped over himself in his hurry to escape from his lord’s notice.

Fuji turned Narafune.

“Send a runner for General Hojo at once. It would appear that we have a military campaign to plan.”

* * *

Shin

“I fear that we will not be ready in time.”

Daigo sat upon his new throne. It was elaborately carved from ivory and beautifully inlaid with gold and jewels. Though the rouge emperor lacked the wealth to furnish his hall as lavishly as the one in the abdicate’s palace, he had received enough gifts from Lord Min and the other high-ranking nobles who supported him that his court here still instilled a sense of power and influence on those who came before him.

Shin knew that Daigo would have much preferred to sit on a chair of wood in a hall of plain stone and give the gold to his men, but he had managed to impress upon his liege the importance of appearances. The sad truth was that many noble lords would not support Daigo if he looked more like a pauper than an emperor.

“Do not waste your time fretting,” Shin advised him. “We knew that an immediate strike was one possible reaction from your grandfather and we have planned for it.”

“We will be ready in time because we have to be,” Shin smiled confidently. “Besides, his haste will act in our favor. He will be expecting an easy defeat and he will be the one who is caught unprepared.”

Daigo frowned, obviously unconvinced.

“If we are to overthrow the abdicate, then we must win a battle against him eventually,” argued Shin. “We are better off facing him now, in our own territory, rather than on a field of his choosing.”

“But our plan will come to naught if our castle is only half constructed when he arrives here!” fretted Daigo.

“I have faith that our workers are capable of finishing ahead of my initial schedule,” answered Shin. “I was being very cautious when I devised it. The advancing army will provide them with a strong motivation.”

Daigo was not amused by his dark humor.

“And do not forget that the men you have here in the castle are not your only forces,” Shin reminded him. “I can promise you that the march here from the capital will not go as smoothly as the abdicate imagines.”

The emperor shook his head sadly.

“More lives thrown away in my name.”

“The name of the nation’s just and rightful ruler,” Shin replied.

That brave men should sacrifice themselves for Daigo’s cause had always weighed heavily upon the young emperor’s heart, reflected Shin, which ironically was why so many would proudly give their lives for him without the slightest hesitation. Daigo was a very different man from his grandfather, who would murder a man for sport without giving the matter a second thought.

Still, despite the soundness of his arguments, Shin could do little to alleviate the emperor’s melancholy. Daigo soon dismissed him to brood alone.

* * *

Fuji

Fuji pulled back his palanquin’s screen so that he could address General Hojo.

Hojo was a giant of a man, as wide as he was tall, and riding upon his massive warhorse with his horned ram’s helm upon his head, he seemed too large to be truly human.

“I want you to hunt down and kill every one of those cowardly dogs!” raged the abdicate. “Kill them to the last man, do you understand?”
Hojo nodded in assent, a soldier and not a courtier, he was a man of refreshingly few words. He rode away at once, shouting orders to his subordinates as he went.

Against his generals’ protests, Fuji had decided to join the army in the field. His ministers had pleaded with him to consider his age and the perils of travel, but Fuji had balked at them. He was still months from his sixtieth birthday and not so frail as they all thought. He would not allow his army to see him as weak, which was exactly why he would go to war with them. It had been to long since he had gone on campaign. He wanted his people to know that he had been there personally when Daigo was finally struck down.

The glory must be his alone, not Hojo’s. It never paid to allow a warrior to gain too much of a reputation. He had been taught that lesson the hard way more than once over the long years of his rule.

However, the imperial army had barely left the gates of the capital before things had started to turn sour. Fuji himself had narrowly avoided harm, and his fear now only added to his fury. How dare a lowly aide have the gal to strike at him, a retired emperor, a demigod walking upon the Earth?

The unmanly nature of this attack showed Daigo’s true character. Fuji would not have thought that the boy had such deception in him.

Members of their own train had turned on them! Fuji was incensed. Not samurai, of course, he had made certain that Hojo had hand-picked the units honored to march alongside the abdicate, but their squires and servants.

Only moments before, they had been marching triumphantly through the gates of the city, past the cheering throngs of smallfolk who always turned out to watch an army on the move. Young boys eyes’ shone with excitement as they beheld noble lords in boldly emblazoned armor, riding atop proud steeds, and the children whispered to each other and shared dreams of war..

The crowds had soon thinned and then been left behind completely. Daigo’s rebels had struck as soon as the city walls were lost from sight. It seemed like every groom, cook, and attendant in the army had pulled a knife from beneath their clothing and started screaming his grandsons’ name.

The act was pure suicide, but Daigo’s men knew it, and used the element of surprise fully to their advantage. A robed servant with a rusty short sword was no match for a samurai, or even an armored warhorse, so they had directed their fury elsewhere. Pack horses and reserve mounts had died by the dozens, and those retainers who were loyal to their masters had been cut down in great numbers. Only a few warriors who were caught in vulnerable positions at the time of the uprising had been killed, but a few of the rebels had even gotten a hold of small bows and fired arrows hopefully in the direction of Fuji and General Hojo. A couple of quarrels still protruded from the roof of the abdicate’s palanquin. Had the rebels only had a little more luck...

There was a knock upon his screen from outside. Through it he saw the shadow of Hojo’s hulking form.

“The traitors breathe no more,” said the general simply.

“Good,” replied Fuji with a grim feeling of satisfaction. He paused to consider their next step. “We will turn back towards the capital and camp just outside the gates. I will remain with the troops and speak to them to restore their morale, you will return to city and acquire fresh horses and support to replace what we have lost. This time you will make certain to choose honorable men, or it is you who will soon find himself replaced, do you understand?”

“Yes, my lord,” replied Hojo with a brusque nod. Once more, he did not stay to argue but hurried off to begin the process of getting the army turned around. Fuji sighed, he hoped that Hojo avoided any further blunders. He honestly did appreciate the man’s efficiency. It appeared that some of the rebels had been working in the capital for months. How deeply entrenched were Daigo’s agents? Fuji shrugged off the thought. Down that road lay only paranoia, and he had seen what that had done to his own father.

It was important to focus on the positives. If Daigo could have turned the samurai against him, then this attack may very well have been fatal, but obviously Fuji’s real warriors had proven too loyal. And they had better be, he paid them well enough. If Daigo won the hearts of a few servants, what did it matter? There were always more, this debacle had only warned him to keep a closer eye on them.

And honestly, their army’s only real loss had been time. Daigo had clearly made a mistake by springing this ambush so close to the capital’s gates instead of later in their march. Fuji could easily delay himself a little here to resupply. That wouldn’t have been possible once they were up in the mountains.

Of course, that would require slinking back through the same throngs of people who had applauded their march less than an hour ago, with their heads hung low in failure. But that was why Fuji intended to send Hojo to face their snickering disdain while he remained out here in the field.

The purpose of this was two-fold. The peasants would see Hojo’s face and associate him with this defeat. Also, the troops’ morale would already be low enough after this trickery, forcing them to march back through the gates beneath the critical eyes of the townspeople would shatter it completely before they had even started.

Perhaps Daigo had thought that the abdicate would make that mistake, or that in his anger he would storm off without resupplying. Fuji had not ruled this long by making mistakes. Or by letting his enemies survive their own. Soon enough, he would be on the march again and his numbers would be far superior. His traitorous grandson’s desperate assault had failed, and now Daigo would learn the high price of failure.

* * *

Shin

Daigo was holding court when Shin arrived to tell him the news. The emperor’s robes shone a pure white in the light of the lanterns and a circlet of unadorned silver ringed his curly dark hair, the metal shaped into leaves with veins and stems etched in painstaking detail. Sitting straight-backed against his throne in thoughtful consideration, it stuck Shin that his young lord struck quite the magnificent figure..

Few lords called upon the rebel Emperor to settle their disputes, though as news of the castle’s construction traveled across the empire their envoys came often enough to demand gold or favors in exchange for their support against the abdicate. But Daigo’s grandfather had never given the poor farmers who lived in these mountains a reason to love him, and they had soon found that the young rebel Emperor listened well and made decisions based on fairness rather than corruption. The mountains and surrounding hills did not allow many men to scratch out a living, but word must have spread quickly, for the people of the land now traveled miles to have their cases heard by Daigo himself. Shin was amazed by the line of subjects, stretching the length of the hall and into the corridor beyond.

When Daigo was informed that Shin carried important news, he had those waiting dismissed from the hall, but promised that he would return to his judgments soon and hear from as many of them as possible before the day was done.

Shin chuckled softly as he rose from his bow.

“It would appear that your fame continues to grow.”

Daigo gave a dismissive shrug.

“The people of this land are no fools. My grandfather’s idea of law is based on who can afford the highest bribe. His courts have been that way for years. The poor have always sought an alternative. Give them one, and they will come.”

For once, at least, no light-hearted response suggested itself to Shin.

“They said you had pressing news?” prompted the young emperor. He seemed irritated at having his judgments interrupted. Though Daigo would hear cases until he reached the point of exhaustion, Shin knew that he relished the opportunity to rule on them. The emperor had expressed many times that it was one of the few things he felt allowed him to give back to his supporters for all of the sacrifices that others had made and continued to make to keep him alive.

Shin assumed a more serious demeanor.

“The abdicate’s forces have left the capital. He must fear your influence, for he has only taken those samurai whose loyalty he is absolutely sure of. While there are no members of the rebellion among them, this does act in our favor by limiting his forces.”

Shin shook his head.

“Still, his army has at least four soldiers to each of our own, and it is only a portion of his total forces- he could always call for additional reinforcements if he were to decide that he needed them. I am counting on the fact that he will consider his current numbers to be more than enough.”

To his credit, Daigo did not flinch at these tidings. They had both known it was coming.

“How long do we have?” he asked, cutting immediately to the heart of the matter.

Shin shrugged, uncomfortably.

“It is hard to say for certain,” he replied. “Some of our men had infiltrated their army’s support staff. They were able to delay the abdicate by killing some of the army’s pack animals and the samurai’s retainers.”

“The abdicate will either have to take a short time to replenish his losses, or press on without them, which would cost him more time in the long run. The reports I am receiving imply that he will do the former. It will not slow him longer than a day or two.”

Daigo frowned, having caught something in Shin’s tone.

“How many of our men survived?”

“It is always unclear so soon after a battle,” muttered Shim, which only caused Daigo’s frown to deepen. “However, I think it is safest to assume that none escaped, it would have been difficult given the circumstances.”

The young emperor’s face paled, then flushed red with anger.

“How many lives? How many lives thrown away for a single day?” he demanded.

Shin avoided the question. He had never seen Daigo in such a mood and was uncertain how he should respond.

“The delay was not the main goal of the attack, my lord. It is merely the first step in a long term plan to wound the enemy’s morale. We need them to feel that their mission was cursed to failure from the beginning. We must wear them down so at the key moment they are ready to break. This was to plant that seed. We will have a better estimate on the abdicate’s advance when his forces reach our scouts in the foothills.”

“Well, consider your seed planted and well fertilized by the corpses of our friends,” snarled Daigo. “You had best hope it bears fruit. I dislike this underhanded plotting. War should be fought by samurai on a fair field of battle, not by untrained peasants in the shadows.”

Shin felt his own anger beginning to rise. Daigo could not afford such an immature vision of war. Nitta, the former head of his army, would have put such ideas of valor and glory in his head. Nitta had been a great man and a close friend but he had also died fighting in a battle he could not have hoped to win, buying time for the emperor to escape Fuji’s assassins. With the odds against them as they were, Daigo’s rebels could only afford to fight battles on their own terms.

“Believe it or not my lord, I would prefer exactly the same,” replied Shin, struggling to keep his voice level. “But if you expect Abdicate Fuji to treat you in kind, you are mistaken. This is a man who murdered your father, his own son, in cold blood and who has already attempted to do the same to you. He has repeatedly broken any rules of proper conduct. If you bind yourself to them, you have no chance for success and you may as well surrender now.”

Daigo stared at him for a long moment, his expression distorted by rage, and Shin feared that the emperor would order some punishment for his samurai in response to these harsh words, but after a moment the young lord’s face softened and some of the tension left his shoulders.

“You are right my friend, I do you wrong by casting any blame in your direction,” Daigo dipped his head and closed his eyes for a moment, acknowledging his guilt. “You may have devised our strategy, but it was I who approved it. The responsibility is mine.”

Shin now allowed himself to relax slightly, in this softer tone of voice he heard the emperor he knew.

“As you say,” Daigo continued. “The abdicate has forced our hand, and our actions can only be judged in this light. Please forgive me, the loss of more lives and my anxiety for what lies ahead has caused me to lash out at you unfairly. You have been nothing but my most faithful servant.”

Shin bowed deeply.

“There is no need for apologies,” he said. “I should have been more sympathetic of the strains placed upon you and not provoked you so. However, there is one more piece of intelligence I must relate to you before I go.”

Daigo visibly braced himself for more bad news.

“The last report I received indicates that the abdicate himself is traveling with the army.”

Daigo’s jaw dropped open for a split second, but he quickly mastered himself, shutting it and regaining the thoughtful look that he had held when Shin first entered the hall.

“Any idea why?” asked the young emperor after some consideration.

Shin shrugged.

“I’m afraid I cannot say. It may be that you’ve managed to gain the edge on him mentally, and he feels the need to see to your death personally. But there may also be some political motivation that leads him to feel the need to be seen as the head of the military. That might mean there’s some sort of rift in the government we could take advantage of, if only we had more time...”

“Which, of course, is the last thing we have,” interrupted Daigo. “Do you think this acts in our favor or against it.”

Shin bowed.

“Again I must plead your indulgence for my lack of wisdom, my lord. In some ways it appears to be all that we could hope for. When kings go to war there is always a risk that they will meet their end. I doubt he will charge to the front of his lines and put himself in danger during any of the small skirmishes with our men that he will encounter, but sickness and infection march along with any army. And it has been some time since Abdicate Fuji took the field, there is always the possibility that the strain of travel could overcome him.”

“But?” prompted Daigo, showing for the first time a hint of amusement. “What points are you concealing on your other hand? You said that not all the implications of this were favorable.”

Shin nodded.

“But all reports of the abdicate’s health indicate that he is not yet so frail that I hold any great hope that he will succumb to age or illness, and while it has been some time since he led men to war, that is mainly because he killed off his major foes long ago. He is an experienced commander who has brought men to victory time and time again, and his advice may aid his general in dealing with our ruses. It is also impossible to predict his effect on the fighting spirit of his men. Fighting for their leader’s glory with him at their side... as you know we are gambling heavily on the outcome of the final battle, and his presence may well motivate them to overcome any obstacle.”

Daigo frowned then, to Shin’s surprise, smiled once more.

“We shall see,” the emperor said. “But my experience with my grandfather has consistently shown me that men do not love him. They do what he says because they have to or because they are well paid to, and their greed rules their hearts. If it comes down to a test of spirit then that at least I think we can win.”

Shin smiled back, taking confidence from his emperor’s faith in his men.

“Again you humble me with your ability to see so clearly through to the truth,” replied the samurai. “I shall leave you now, so that you can bless those who seek your judgment with your vision and wisdom.”

Daigo waved off Shin’s court flattery with exaggerated annoyance, but it was plain to see that his lord’s earlier anxiety had left him.

* * *

Fuji

Patience, Fuji had to keep reminding himself, patience was a general’s most important weapon.

Daigo’s rebels had fought a cowardly retreat through the entire length of these mountains. Defending a pass here or a hard to approach incline there. Raining arrows, rocks, and death down from above, but always melting away to nowhere by the time that Hojo’s troops had reached their location.

The process was infuriating, as the rebels clearly had far less men, and would be decimated in any type of a fair fight, but Fuji could never catch up with them. Daigo’s troops had a much greater knowledge of the caves that dotted these mountains and were able to disappear off the paths and reappear where it was most inconvenient.

Any scouts that Hojo sent into the caves failed to return. Eventually, Hojo had become frustrated and pleased with him to send out a larger force, but it would be just what Fuji needed to have the rebels trap a third of his men in some narrow tunnel and cave it in. No, he had counseled, they would proceed slowly up the mountainside taking whatever losses it required. They had more than enough men, and the enemy would eventually run out of places to retreat.

Hojo had fumed silently, but had known better than to speak out against Fuji’s orders. Which was fortunate for him, because the abdicate’s mood was only growing worse with each passing day of this campaign, and at this point he was all too ready to remove the giant oaf from his command if given the proper provocation.

As if being constantly harried by Daigo’s craven followers wasn’t bad enough, the weather had now begun to turn against them, slowing them even more. This mission had already taken more than twice as long as Fuji had anticipated. Their progress had been further hampered by more of Daigo’s treachery.

Men and beast alike had begun falling ill immediately after they had restocked their forces and renewed their march out from the capital. It had taken Hojo’s camp doctors days to realize the cause- the spies in their midst who had turned on them had first poisoned portions of their food supply. The poison was not severe enough to cause any deaths, but it was present in small amounts in both the soldier’s rations and the horses’ feed, and it sickened those who were unfortunate enough to ingest it. In a way, this was almost worse, for the injured slowed an army far more than the dead and the slow acting nature of the poison meant it was impossible to guard against by using poison-tasters. As a result, the men grew to fear each meal, and their morale was destroyed entirely. Fuji had been forced to divert the army a couple days south, to the city of Awaii, to aquire new stores of food and replace the sickened men with less skilled troops from that city’s garrison.

The delay had cost him the weather, and by the time they had fought their way near Daigo’s castle, thunderstorms burst periodically across the gray skies, soaking them in rain. There were now rumors among the men that this was a sign from the gods that Fuji was not meant to strike against his own blood. He realized quickly that such talk was more dangerous than Daigo’s meager assortment of troops. On first hearing of these mutterings, Fuji had ordered Hojo to execute the speaker publicly to serve as an example for the others. The abdicate had not heard any rumblings since, but he felt sure that some were still occurring carefully outside of his hearing.

Morale remained low, as the samurai still did not fully trust the new food stores. The rain and the storms had caused some men to fall ill, and there was another rumor circulating that their new food stores had been poisoned as well. Even Hojo seemed to be giving this some thought. He clearly did not trust their reinforcements from Awaii.

“What if the enemy anticipated our move there as well?” he had demanded of Fuji. “They seem to have anticipated everything else!”

Fuji found that he could not make a convincing argument to refute this logic. He was absolutely certain from his dealings with the boy that Daigo himself was not behind this. The boy had proved headstrong but not this cunning, or Fuji would have had him killed long ago. The abdicate cursed his luck that the boy seemed to have found a competent advisor.

But now he could take heart. Their greater numbers had won the day in the end, and pushed through all of Daigo’s obstacles and ambushes. Though they had been forced to abandon their mounts miles ago, his army stood now at the base of the twisting pass which led to the gates of Daigo’s castle. The rebels may have nipped at his army like an angry pest, but the overall damage had not been significant. The abdicate’s men had even been granted a couple of days respite from attacks as the scum that had been harassing them had all either been caught and slain or retreated ahead of them into the castle.

Fuji had to admit that the castle itself was impressive, for a fortification that had been constructed so quickly. It had few towers, but its walls towered above them and commanded all approaches to the summit. Hojo had sent his most limber men clamoring over the rocks, but they could find no reliable way to approach the fortification from the sides or the rear. They would have to force their way up the pass and assault the main gate.

So be it.

Fuji felt certain that Daigo lacked the men hold the castle against a determined change. He had Hojo assemble the samurai and called for his manservant to prepare his armor.

It was time.

* * *

The abdicate’s armor was styled in the fashion of a fierce dragon and painted with a red enamel that caught the color of the setting sun. It was decorated with emeralds and rubies, but they lay dull and dead beneath the crimson sky.

Fuji strode back and forth along their formation, taking confidence from their numbers. Despite what they had been through, there were still so many. Many years ago, he had wrested the nation from his brother with less men behind him. Looking upon them, for the first time in a long while, he felt invincible. He saw them glancing about themselves and thought they must be coming to the same conclusion. He kept his speech short.

“There!” he screamed, gesturing towards the backdrop of the castle behind him. “There is the home of the traitor Daigo. This vile murder has tried every trick his evil mind could conceive to keep you from coming this far. He has used a woman’s weapons, poison and deceit, because he knew already in his heart that he could not defeat you.”

Fuji sneered, showing his teeth.

“But he underestimated you. He underestimated your loyalty and he underestimated your bravery! And now here you stand. You are expecting a battle?”

The abdicate swept his gaze over them, looking deeply into their eyes.

“It is already over! This coward knows that you are coming and that you bring his death! Go now, and make him pay for his crimes!”

The troops cheered as one and surged forward up the mountainside. Fuji proudly watched them file past, finally taking up a safe position in their reserve.

The climb to the castle was crooked and treacherous, but no more so than those that they had been ascending for weeks. Arrows fell upon them at once, but not as many as the abdicate had feared. Daigo’s forces must be even weaker than he had predicted. Many men were struck by missiles and fell from the narrow pass, killed by the bruising tumble down the mountain if not the arrow strike itself. The corpses of others collapsed upon the path, but were soon crushed all but flat by the relentless press of troops pushing upwards and onwards. The abdicate himself was safe beneath the shields of his many guardsmen.

They reached the end of the pass even faster than Fuji would have anticipated, but then his men were becoming used to this type of mountain fighting. At this shorter distance, the arrows came down more rapidly but the ridge at the base of the castle’s walls proved wider than he and Hojo had expected. There was enough room here for Fuji’s general to assemble his entire army and prepare for the assault. Had the gates been built abutting the end of the pass itself, he would have had to throw men at them a dozen or so at a time. Instead there was enough flat ground in between to spread out their men and reform their formations so that Fuji could send waves of men to attack the gates and attempt to climb the walls.

Daigo must have been expecting to have enough men to place a large unit here to hold the pass. Seeing this, Fuji was glad that they had dealt with their setbacks so quickly. Even a force as large as his would have had difficulty taking the pass under those conditions, so it was fortunate that they had struck before the rebels had gathered more supporters.

His line of guards parted, shouldered aside by Hojo’s huge form.

“My lord,” the general said. “I believe we have the enemy greatly outnumbered. I was hoping that you would grant me the honor of leading the charge against the gates personally.”

Fuji considered this for a moment. Clearly his grandson’s trickery had gained him Hojo’s hatred. The abdicate appreciated his man’s efficiency, but the difficulties of this campaign had showed that the hulking warrior was not irreplaceable. It would not trouble him overly if the man spit himself on an enemy’s lance in his anger. And if he did happen to get to Daigo first, Fuji had faith that he would treat the miscreant as he deserved.

“Your bravery and courage should be an example to us all,” the abdicate said, raising his voice enough for all the samurai surround him to hear. “I grant you permission to be first to the castle’s gates.”

The warriors within earshot cheered and began chanting Hojo’s name.

The general thanked him and immediately began planning his assault. Fuji watched Hojo assemble his elite troops for the first charge against Daigo’s keep. It was easy to pick the curving horns of Hojo’s ram’s head helmet out of the crowd, as he stood a head taller than even the largest of the other warriors.

The general placed himself at the center of his unit. He had sheathed his huge sword and in its place he held an enormous iron war hammer with which he would assault the castle gates. There was no wood for siege towers here in the mountains, but the men on his flanks twirled grapples and chains that they would use to assault the walls.

Hojo let loose with a bellowing roar so savage that Fuji found it hard to believe it had originated from a human and not some wild animal hiding in the rocks nearby, then the general and his men surged forward. The rebel archers concentrated their fire upon the advancing troops, but there simply did not seem to be enough of them to make much of a dent in Hojo’s forces. The attackers sprinted madly towards the front of the castle.

Hojo and those in the center reached the gates and began hacking at them with their axes and hammers, but progress was very slow. More promising was the advance of those scaling the walls. Some of their grapples found purchase either at the top of the wall or in cracks along it’s length. Dozens of men began pulling themselves up towards the battlements.

Daigo’s forces began to fight more desperately. Flaming oil poured down upon those hacking at the gate and stones and arrows knocked men from the walls. Rebel warriors ran along the top of the wall, knocking loose the grapples and sending men to shatter their bones on the hard stone beneath.

A veteran commander, Fuji could see that the tide of the battle was turning against Hojo’s first wave of men. A few samurai were nearing the top of the walls, but not enough, they would be overwhelmed. Hojo had pulled back from the gate, his armor singed and smoking, and he was marshalling his men for another charge, but their number was greatly diminished. Fuji had to act now to assist him or any advantage would be lost, those warrior’s lives wasted. He raised his arms and waved towards the castle, calling for the rest of his samurai to move forward.

* * *

Shin

“Lord Shin! General Hojo himself is a leading a charge towards our walls! What should we do?”

“Stand fast!” Shin shouted back at the sentry atop the walls. “Our timing must be perfect, the men must stand and fight until we give the order. The enemy must not sense that anything is amiss.”

The sentry ran along the wall to repeat Shin’s orders, the commander could only hope that his men would take them to heart and not flee the walls too soon.

“It won’t be long now,” muttered Daigo, who stood besides him.

Shin would have preferred that the emperor remain behind guard in his throne room, but his young lord would not hear of it. Daigo had proclaimed that he had had enough of letting men die in his name. If the rebel emperor’s subjects were to risk there lives against the abdicate, he would do the same.

It was strange to see Daigo dressed for war. His white armor and heron crested helm were immaculate, but that was only because they had never seen a real battle. Daigo had been taking sword lessons since the beginning of his exile, but Shin was uncertain of their value. The man had never struck him as a warrior, and Shin sincerely hoped he didn’t go and get himself killed in battle after all of this trouble.

“My lord?” hazarded Shin, not certain if his emperor had intended to be overheard.

“Very soon it will be revealed whether we are geniuses or fools, my friend.”

“Just so,” agreed Shin. Now that the moment was upon him he was, if anything, less certain of his plan than he had been during the castle’s construction. At least there could be so second guessing now, it was far too late for that.

“Are Lord Min and the other nobles in position?” asked Daigo.

“To the best of my knowledge, my lord,” answered Shin. “The abdicate has moved all of his men through the pass to the ground beneath the castle, just as we had hoped. That means he most likely bypassed Min’s position without his scouts becoming aware of them.”

Shin chose not to voice the other option, that Fuji had not only discovered Lord Min and their allies but defeated them so soundly that no word had reached the castle. Still, Shin felt fairly certain that the abdicate would have advanced more cautiously if he encountered the hidden army of samurai.

The sound of thundering feet grew louder. Screams sounded from just outside the walls now. You could hear the enemy pounding at the gates. A javelin struck a man on the battlements and he fell dead into the courtyard.

Daigo shifted nervously at the sight.

“They are here, we should act!”

“No!” shouted Shin firmly, lest any of the farmers crowded around them take the emperor’s words for orders. “Not yet! We must wait until the last possible moment! Ready the boiling oil!”

The men on the walls complied, pouring the liquid flame down upon their enemies. The screaming was horrific. Daigo was clearly discomforted by this taste of real war. A few of the abdicate’s men reached the battlements, but the small number of warriors that Shin had positioned there managed to put them to the sword or throw them off. After a slight pause, more blows fell upon the gate, but there were clearly fewer men assaulting it now.

“What’s going on out there!” Shin called to his sentries through the lull.

“We’re throwing back the assault!” called one runner, this high pitch of his excited voice revealing his youth, his tone a mixture of triumph and surprise.

“Wait!” came the deeper voice of a veteran soldier. “The abdicate is rallying his troops. Here comes another wave!”

Shin closed his eyes and listened closely to the sound of hundreds of footsteps. Fuji must have sent the majority of his troops charging forwards. He heard them reach the gate, heard stone shatter and iron creak as the began to break it open. More grapples clinked against the top of the stone walls.

“Now!” he shouted, opening his eyes. He repeated the order, over and over again until his throat was raw, slapping at the backs of the peasants standing before him for emphasis. Daigo besides him was urging the villagers on as well, and calling for their men to propel down off of the walls.

To Shin’s left, three broad shouldered farmhands struggled against an enormous lever. They bent and groaned and finally it swung over, with a deafening grind of metal against rock. In his head, Shin pictured a series of turning gears and shifting weights, dropping into position and releasing their locks.

Shin had to admit, he had not expected the men of the local mountain villages to stay and fight for them, but not a man among them had failed to offer his life in defense of the emperor’s. Shin doubted that they would be worth anything standing toe to toe against the enemy samurai, but they certainly had their uses.

Several other groups of burly mountain men pushed forward. They ran so slowly that they almost appeared to be fighting against quicksand, but gradually the wheeled rams before them began to gain momentum, rolling fasted and faster.

“Get ready!” warned Shin, casting a concerned look at his emperor, for Daigo was suddenly laughing like a maniac.

* * *

Fuji

Fuji’s was pleased to see that men his samurai had moved quickly enough to reinforce Hojo. A hundred more men joined him at the gates, raising their shields above their heads to protect those hacking at the portal from arrows and stones.

Other warriors reached the base of the walls while the defenders were still busy fighting off the men from Hojo’s first wave who had already climbed to the top. The newcomers began scurrying up the lines set by those before them, while those behind them sent even more grapples flying and joined in the ascent.

The rebels defending the walls slew the last of Hojo’s initial force, but seemed to lose heart as they laid eyes on the new swarm of warriors scaling the walls. Instead of renewing their defense, Fuji could see them fleeing the battlements into the courtyard beyond!

Victory was at hand.

Dozens of men were scampering up the wall, and hundreds more pooled at its base, ready to join them. The defenders were clearly in a state of rout. Soon the castle would be his.

There was a loud rumble, and Fuji staggered suddenly. He saw his men looking around in confusion. What was that, an earthquake?

“Keep fighting!” he shouted. “The enemy is at our mercy!” it would not pay for his men to loose focus now. He urged those around him forward.

His men were reaching the top of the walls now, and he did not think the gate would stand much longer. He watched as men began to pull themselves up onto the battlements.

Crack!

There was a terrible sound of rock scraping over rock, as if the mountain was tearing itself open, and Fuji suddenly realized that the men he had been watching were now windmilling their arms atop the castle’s walls... and growing closer.

“Retreat!” screamed Fuji. “Fall back!”

But he could not be heard over the thunder of the falling rock as the castle’s walls exploded outwards towards them. The abdicate watched in horror as the men at the base of the walls tried to flee but were trapped by their great numbers and only collided with one another as the flailed about in panic.

Men scaling the walls leapt off, but only succeeded in knocking down their fellows before both were crushed under the deadly weight of the stone. Hojo and the men hacking at the gate were flattened beneath the very doors that they had been so very close to smashing open. In a matter of seconds, Fuji’s great army was reduced to a field of dust and shattered stone.

“For Daigo!”

Thousands of voices seemed to be shouting the traitor’s name. A horde of dark shapes appeared out of the dust, charging towards the abdicate’s position.

Fuji was pushed backwards by the mass of his routed troops, fleeing towards the path back down the mountainside. Fuji found himself running along with them until, in his haste, he smashed into the back of the man in front of him when the samurai pulled up short.

The abdicate struck the man with one hand as he clutched at his wounded nose with the other, feeling to see if it had been broken.

“Run you idiot! You’ll be the death of us all!”

“It’s no use, my lord!” said the man in leaden tones of defeat, stepping to the side so that the abdicate could see.

As if by black magic, a second army had appeared at the mouth of the pass beneath them. They flew the proud banners of a dozen noble houses. The largest was the proud silver arms of Lord Min. There was nowhere left to run.

“Impossible!” sputtered Fuji. Everything was slipping away. The abdicate steadied himself and took a deep breath. He had not lived this long to die like a coward. He raised his sword.

“To me! Form up around me!” he called. But it was no good. Panicked soldiers ran by him, paying him no heed. Fuji sighed and beheaded one man who tried to push his way by, then left a deep cut in the throat of the next.

People began to pay attention.

“Stand and fight you cowards! Let us show these tricksters the mettle of a true samurai!”

Men slowly began to congeal around him, though just as many threw down their swords and raised their hands, fleeing towards Lord Min’s banners and shouting their surrender.

Fuji looked from the enemies approaching across the summit, to those climbing up from below. Min’s men were a wall of heavily armored samurai but now that the dust had settled some, Fuji could see that the force approaching from the castle, while larger, was made up mainly of men carrying pitchforks and clubs .

Fuji smiled in determination. You did not hold a throne by giving up easily. Perhaps things were not so dire as they seemed.

* * *

Daigo

Daigo did not know if it was the excitement of his first battle, or if he had simply gone mad, but he found himself laughing out loud as the walls fell. Freeing him to act after hours of waiting? Months of waiting? No, an entire lifetime of waiting, for his grandfather had been a curse on him and his family for that long.

Shin’s carefully constructed castle functioned perfectly. The only fortification ever designed to fall down when it was attacked. A plan so ludicrous and implausible that it had been the only one with a chance to succeed.

The walls descended like the hand of the Sun Goddess herself, obliterating their foes beneath it. For some reason, everyone was suddenly yelling his name and running out over the loose rock into a battlefield filled with smoke.

He stood there for a moment stunned, before he remembered that he was supposed to join them.

Fuji’s forces fled before his rebels, having watched too many of their friends just die within a mere matter of seconds. Those too slow or too injured were swarmed by his crazed band and quickly put out of their misery.

The abdicate’s men reached the pass that was their only path down from the summit and came to an immediate halt. Daigo knew that they would be discovering Lord Min’s host below them. The samurai had been hidden in a small cavern near the summit with an entrance so narrow that a man in armor could barely fit through it sideways. They had walled the cave up with stone from the inside, and this must have been enough to fool any of Fuji’s outriders. The reverberation of the walls destruction along the mountainside had been more than a clear enough signal for them to reveal themselves. There they would cut off any hope that Fuji had for retreat.

The abdicate’s men seemed to grasp this situation immediately. With impressive speed, their ranks reformed out of the disarray and the enemy samurai surged back towards them. Daigo cursed his grandfather yet again, he and Shin had hoped the enemy force would still be disrupted when they struck.

“Hold your lines!” the young emeperor heard Shin shouting. Half a dozen young farmers either did not hear him or did not care, for they ran ahead whooping and outstripped the rest of Daigo’s troops. They were dead moments later, their clubs and spears having shattered against the armor of the enemy samurai. Daigo thought then that a number of the villagers appeared to be having second thoughts about what they were doing, but the two sides came together before they had time to lose heart completely.

Sword rang against sword, men grunted and then screamed in pain, but Daigo could not see what was happening. He found himself completely surrounded by the ring of his personal guard.

“More of you, to the front! I command it!” he screamed at them, but they ignored his orders.

Daigo paused, steadied himself, and tried again in a calmer tone.

“Be reasonable,” he insisted. “I understand that Shin has assigned you to guard me with your lives, but we do not have enough trained warriors. You saw Fuji’s men cut down those poor villagers. We need as many of you on the front lines as possible. You will be making me far safer by making sure we push the enemy back”

Logic succeeded where his imperial aura had failed and Genru and Saki nodded their assent and trotted off despite the protests of his other guards.

Long moments passed. Daigo could hear the heated combat all around him and eventually found himself hopping up and down to try and see over the shoulders of his guardsmen.

“What is happening?” he demanded of them.

“We’re winning,” answered the tall, lanky Runkei, who no doubt had the best view. “But the abdicate does not seem to be interested in victory anymore. He is driving a wedge of troops straight for us. You had better get ready.”

And a minute later the row of men before them disappeared in a spray of blood.

Daigo recognized his grandfather’s red dragon armor at once, he had seen Fuji wear it ceremonially numerous times. The abdicate had lost so many of his troops that he was now personally leading their charge. Fuji had only half a dozen samurai remaining, but they were members of his elite guard.

Daigo’s men bravely rushed forward to form a barrier between them.

“Where are you, Daigo?” Fuji howled, taunting him. The abdicate cut a deep gash in Runkei’s thigh, then ran the samurai through when he stumbled.

More men fell on both sides, but Daigo’s guards seemed to be taking the worst of it. Their line faltered and a man clad in jet black armor burst through, Daigo raised his sword to meet him, but Shin appeared out the chaos at the man’s side. The abdicate’s warrior somehow sensed Shin’s presence, and spun at the last moment the parry the blade that had been thrust at his back. Shin pressed forward in an attempt to maintain his advantage, but the samurai stood his ground, and their swords locked together.

“At last!”

Startled by the shout, Daigo stepped back and a katana whisked through the air before him, spattering droplets of other men’s blood upon the white of his armor. Fuji had somehow fought his way through to where Daigo stood, and the young emperor had been so distracted by watching his friend fight that he almost had not realized it until it was too late.

“If nothing else, I will have outlived both you and your insolent father!”

The abdicate’s sword flew towards him again, and Daigo barely managed to block it with his shield. The impact numbed his arm to the elbow. Daigo cursed himself internally and tried to remember any of his training.

Remain calm and in control, his instructor had always repeated, know your enemy before you attack.

He gave ground before his grandfather, going on the defensive, but dismay began to grip his heart. Somehow, despite his age, Fuji seemed to be the stronger of them and he was without a doubt the more experienced. When Daigo did see an opening, he was hesitant to attack, lest he fall for a feint. He wondered briefly if his grandfather really was some sort of terrible ageless demon as he’d always envisioned.

Daigo parried one attack, then another. With each block he felt a little steadier on his feet. Fuji may be stronger, but the abdicate’s sword was no faster than his own. And as Daigo forced himself to focus and blot out the noise of the skirmish around them, he realized that he could hear his grandfather’s breathing, heavy and ragged. The abdicate had been fighting for far longer than Daigo by now and he was growing tired. It appeared that he was human after all.

The rebel emperor retreated once more but this time as his opponent advanced, he darted back towards him with a thrust aimed towards his shoulder. This sudden change of tactics caught Fuji by surprise, and the point of Daigo’s katana slid between plates of armor and found flesh and muscle. The abdicate tried to slash back at him clumsily in response, but Daigo beat away the blade with his shield.

“It would appear your time is over, grandfather.” Daigo heard himself say. “You should have hid behind your walls. War is a young man’s game.”

Fuji howled in rage, but he was panting too hard now to spare breathe for a response.

The abdicate’s sword arced up over his head in a brutal two-handed slash. Daigo knew that the force of it would be too much for him to parry, but fortunately his grandfather’s arms were quaking with exhaustion and the young emperor nimbly dodged aside of the poorly aimed strike. The sword crashed down onto barren stone, chips of stone flew threw the air, slicing open the young emperor’s cheek.

“Goodbye, grandfather,” said Daigo softly as the Fuji labored to raise his sword. “Give my father my love.”

Fuji’s eyes grew as large as moons, seeing his own death, and he struck the abdicate down.

Daigo was not sure how long he stood looking down at the corpse, stunned, not really believing what he had done.

Shin cleared his throat nearby.

“Are you alright, my lord?”

It appeared that the battle was over. Men stood all around his friend, cheering. Daigo saw that Min and the samurai who had fought at his side had joined them.

“I almost intervened... several times,” whispered Shin. “But it seemed a battle that you should fight alone.”

Daigo eyed him sourly.

“I suppose that’s acceptable,” he replied at length, allowing himself a hint of a smile. “Considering the outcome.”

The emperor raised his voice so that it would carry to the rest of them.

“You have all been part of history today! And I intend to make sure that all of your names live forever!”

The cheering grew even louder and they began to chant ‘Daigo!’ again.

“I want the names of everyone here, as well as those of our fallen. I will see them well rewarded or their surviving families,” he told Shin. Daigo looked at the bodies surrounding them and broken bones jutting up through the rubble of the fallen wall. “We will find outselves short a few nobles so I believe I will make some new ones.”

Shin frowned.

“Lord Min and his lot will not necessarily agree with the appointment of mountain farmers to the nobility.”

Daigo waved away his protests.

“I have not forgotten Lord Min and our other supporters, I shall make sure they are treated well enough that they have no complaints. New noble houses have formed throughout history after major conflicts, this will be no different.”

“Very well,” said Shin, seeing the truth of this. “It will be as you say.”

Daigo sighed then, the adrenaline of his first combat had left him and all at once he found himself very weary.

“What do we do now?” he asked quietly.

“I fear our work is not yet done,” answered Shin immediately.

“Is it ever?” responded Daigo with a rueful smile.

“But now the end is finally in sight, I promise,” Shin replied, undaunted by his lord’s attempt at humor. “With the abdicate dead, someone will attempt to seize power in the capital. My guess would be Narafune, but it could be any of the ministers.”

“However, with Min and several other samurai on your side, along with the love of the common people, whoever it is will stand no chance against you.”

“Besides,” he added with a wink. “We now have the largest army in nation. Which always helps.”

Daigo cleaned his blade and sheathed it.

“Then let’s get it down off of this damned mountain. The future is waiting, and it’s time for us to make it.”

And the young emperor slapped Shin on the shoulder and walked past his friend and general, to join the other cheering men so that he might embrace each one of them in turn, lord and peasant alike, and personally pass along his thanks. ______________________________________________________________

Dan Devine is a scientist by day and an aspiring science fiction author by night, though he'll write any genre that pops into his head. He has had short stories published online in Dark Fire, Afterburn SF, Crime and Suspense, Flash Tales , and other magazines. Most recently he has appeared in print in the Residential Aliens Year One Anthology, and CyberAlien Press' Strange Worlds of Lunacy compilation. You can find out more about Dan's writing at mysite.verizon.net/dandevinefiction.