The Flood Dragon's Sacrifice Page 2

  “Ambush!” yelled General Kakumyo.

  They were surrounded by dark-garbed men whose sword blades gleamed dully in the twilight. One came directly toward Lord Morimitsu. In the dying light, Kaito recognized Lord Toshiro, although his face was haggard, streaked with cinder smuts and dried blood.

  “She’s dead. And my eldest, Kiyoshi, too. So many dead in the flames. Now you must pay, Morimitsu no Kurozuro.”

  “Kakumyo!” cried Lord Morimitsu, drawing his sword. “Get my son out of here!”

  Before Kaito could even cry out, he felt himself grabbed by strong arms and swung over onto the saddle of another horse. A hail of deadly shuriken rained down around them as Kakumyo dug his heels into his steed’s flanks. Kaito heard the general give a muffled cry of pain as the horse careered wildly away along the path. Something wet and warm dripped onto Kaito’s head; glancing up at Kakumyo, he saw that the right side of his face was streaming with blood from a jagged shuriken-gash above his eye.

  “Kakumyo,” he whispered, terrified, clinging to the horse’s mane as the wild headlong gallop continued. “Father.” His last memory of that nightmare ride was the clash and rasp of katana blades in the fading twilight counterpointed against the thud of the horse’s hoofs…

  Chapter 1

  A whirr of wings, a scratch of claws alighting on the steeply sloping roof of the temple.

  “Only birds,” Kai murmured sleepily, turning over on his narrow mattress. But as he lay in the darkness of his little monastery cell, the thought nagged at his drowsy mind. Birds flying at night? Birds of ill omen, like owls?

  Owls – or Red Kites?

  Had the rival clan penetrated the monastery’s defenses?

  He sensed a faint flicker of energy, like a breeze gusting through the monastery compound, warning of a coming storm. And the Flood Dragon seal on his left wrist began to throb.

  “Someone is here.” Someone – or something – had just flitted swiftly and silently past his room. He sat up, fully awake now, his heart beating painfully fast, reaching for his robe. His hands shook as he knotted the belt about his waist. Should I sound the alarm? Perhaps he had been dreaming.

  His wrist throbbed again and, looking down, he saw in amazement that the tiny blue flame at the centre of the dragon tattoo had begun to glow in the darkness. And it only glows when the emperor takes the Tide Jewels from the temple to perform the yearly ritual…

  The Red Kites knew secret, forbidden Shadow skills. Emperor Suzaku had banished them from Cipangu for using those deadly arts to kill his father. Surely they wouldn’t be so reckless as to try to steal the jewels?

  Another flicker of fleeting shadow set his skin crawling. The tiny flame throbbed again.

  Am I the only one who’s heard them? And how many are there?

  The sudden clanging of the monastery’s warning bell rang out. Men’s voices shouted out in the night, followed by the clatter of running feet.

  “Khoryeon invaders! We’re under attack!”

  “The Khoryeons are here!” The monks were awake at last and on the move. A flare of torches illuminated the darkness. Kai slid open his cell door to see the warrior monks thundering past, torchlight glinting red on the honed steel of their weapons.

  Many years ago, the kingdom of Khoryeo had sent its vast war fleet into the bay below. Empress Himiko had used the Tide Jewels to summon the Tide Dragons to defend Cipangu – and the Khoryeon fleet was decimated. Ever since then, the monastery on the headland had kept the Tide Jewels safe in a temple especially dedicated to honor the dragons of Ebb and Flood.

  But lately there had been rumors about a renewed attack from the kingdom of Khoryeo; the ministers of Left and Right in the imperial court had warned the abbot that King Taejo would strike at the Tide Jewels first, so that the emperor could not use them to sink his warships. The warrior monks had even been training the acolytes in archery so that they could help ward off any invaders.

  A thunderous thud shook the monastery buildings. Kai seized his bow and quiver, ready to do what he could to defend the Tide Jewels. The Black Cranes were known throughout Cipangu for their skill in archery, but his palms were sweating as he fitted an arrow to the taut string. I’ve never fired my bow at another living person before.

  “The main gate!” went up the cry. “They’re trying to break down the main gate!”

  “Why don’t we open the gate and let them in?” The commander of the warrior monks grinned as he brandished his naginata. “Let’s give our Khoryeon visitors a warm welcome they’ll never forget.”

  “No bloodshed on sacred ground, Captain Kakumyo,” said Abbot Genko sternly.

  “They brought the fight here, Lord Abbot. They knew the odds. They knew we wouldn’t just lie down and let them steal the treasures.”

  “Wait, Kakumyo – ” Cursing his lame leg, Kai hobbled as fast as he could after them.

  “Stay out of the way, Kaishin!” Kakumyo cried.

  “Wait.” Kai tried to make himself heard above the din. Why wouldn’t anyone listen? “This attack on the main gate is just a distraction. Someone’s already inside.”

  “Inside?” Kakumyo turned back, frowning. “How do you – ?”

  “I heard them.”

  Kakumyo and the abbot exchanged a look. Then Kakumyo set off at a low, crouching run toward the temple. “Follow him!” commanded the abbot, and several of the warrior monks immediately obeyed, bows and arrows at the ready. “Protect the Tide Jewels with your lives.”

  The timbers of the main gate shuddered again from the repeated blows of the invaders. But the monks were ready for them. Lifting the heavy bar, they let the gate swing slowly open and loosed a hail of arrows. In the red haze of torchlight, Kai saw the Khoryeon attackers. For a moment he thought they were demons – and then he realized that, in the light of the flames, it was their distinctive plumed helmets and fearsome face guards that made them look so terrifying. And yet something was odd about this attack; the grotesquely masked warriors seemed to be wavering in the torchlight, melting away into the darkness of night.

  Someone came hurtling toward Kai, tearing across the neatly raked pebbles in the ornamental garden, and the sound of his agonized breathing echoed around the courtyard. Another followed in his wake.

  Kai halted, unable to move his lame leg swiftly enough to get out of the way. His mind went blank with fear. Mechanically, he raised his bow, nocked arrow at the ready, as Kakumyo had trained him. One swift slash of an assassin’s blade and he’d be cut down. His severed head would go rolling across the courtyard as blood sprayed from his neck, spattering the grey pebbles in crimson rain –

  But just before they collided, the fugitive leapt high into the air and jumped with extraordinary agility onto the roof of the nearest outbuilding. Skimming over the tiles – just like a bird of prey. A second shadow followed, slightly less deftly, faltering a step or two in his rapid ascent of the steep-sloping roof.

  There’s no one here but me. Only I can stop them.

  Kai, forcing the fear to the back of his mind, channeled all his strength into pulling back the taut string as he targeted the fleeing shadow.

  Concentrate.

  Biting his lower lip hard, he loosed the arrow.

  There came a muffled cry, then the sound of something slithering down the roof. Next moment came a sickening thud as a body dropped onto the ground beneath.

  “Good shot, Kai.” Kakumyo reappeared, breathing hard. He waved the other warrior monks on. “Go after the other, quick, before he gets away!” As they ran past, Kai stared at the fallen intruder, a slow, numbed feeling of shock spreading through veins.

  Have I killed him?

  “So, who have we here?” Kakumyo was kneeling beside the crumpled body; in the wavering glare of the torch flame, Kai watched him turn the intruder over, and start to peel back the black hood that concealed his features. “A Khoryeon spy?”

  “Careful, Captain,” said one of the monks. “He could be bluffing. He may have a knife. Or a poiso
n spray…”

  “This one’s no threat.” As the mask came away, Kai heard the monks murmur in surprise. “He’s just a boy.”

  A boy? Kai came closer, leaning on his bow, and saw a pale face revealed, with strong, arching black brows and finely carved features. Locks of raven hair that had been tied tightly back had escaped their ribbon restraint. A little trickle of blood stained one side of his mouth. He looks about my age, maybe a year or so older…

  “Is he dead?” Kai heard himself ask, watching as Kakumyo felt for a pulse at the side of the neck. He noted that the arrow-head was still embedded in the young man’s left shoulder. The broken shaft protruded at an angle; it must have been knocked askew when he fell from the roof. The arrow had gone deep and could have damaged a vital organ.

  Somewhere at the back of his dazed mind Kai knew that even though he might be an enemy, he didn’t want the fleet-footed boy who had shown such speed and skill to die.

  And then a slight shuddering sigh escaped the young man’s lips.

  “Not dead yet, it seems,” Kakumyo said with a wry grunt. “Although he may come to wish otherwise.” Interrogation of an enemy intruder would not be gentle.

  Kai had noticed something else unusual in the torchlight: a faint tracing, dark feathery patterns etched on the side of the young man’s face and neck that seemed to be fading away even as he watched. “What are those strange markings, Kakumyo?”

  Kakumyo peered more closely and then swore under his breath. “You’ve got keen sight, Kai. No wonder these shinobi moved so fast.”

  “Is that some kind of Khoryeon protective charm?”

  “Let’s get him to Master Seishi in the infirmary.” Without answering, Kakumyo rose and nodded to two of the monks who had returned with a stretcher. “The longer that arrow head stays in, the worse it’ll be with him. Lift him carefully – there may be bones broken in the fall.”

  The first of the archers came running back.

  “Did you catch him?” Kakumyo called out.

  “He got away.” The monk’s words came out between gasps for breath. “Even if we winged him, his accomplices must have carried him off with them.”

  “Keep searching. They can’t be far away.”

  It was only then that the frantic cry went up from the temple.

  “The Tide Jewels! The Tide Jewels have gone!”

  Chapter 2

  Abbot Genko stood before the two dragon statues that towered over the altar. The lacquered scales of Prince Shiomitsu, the Flood Dragon, were as blue as the sea on a sunny day; his brother, Prince Shiohiru, the Ebb Dragon, was painted a soft, shimmering white, like tide foam. Their fiery eyes glinted fiercely in the torchlight, challenging anyone rash enough to come too close. Rearing up on their hind legs, each had held one of the sacred Tide Jewels within his grasp. But as Kai approached and bowed to them, he saw that their ingeniously fashioned claws were empty.

  “So it’s true.” He had been hoping until now that there had been a mistake. But there was no denying the fact that the Tide Jewels were gone. And as he stared at the empty claws, the harsh reality of the situation came home to him.

  “This is bad,” he said quietly. “My clan has failed to protect the emperor’s treasures. The emperor will punish us, won’t he?” Grim visions of agonizing tortures and the ultimate humiliation of public execution passed through his mind. “And he won’t show any mercy.”

  “Kakumyo’s men may yet capture the other thief and recover the jewels.” Abbot Genko’s calm voice penetrated Kai’s consciousness. “All is not yet lost.”

  “But how did they do it? Did they have inside help?” He was remembering the abbot’s warning, impressed on all the novices:

  If anyone is rash enough to try to pry the claws apart and steal the jewels, a series of lethal traps is triggered. A subtle narcotic poison is painted on the sharp talons that will slow the thief down, inducing torpor and then paralysis. But if he persists, concealed doors in the floor open up, plunging him onto a bed of spikes far below.

  “A clever thief whose feet never even touched the ground could avoid the trapdoor. But to pry open the claws and take the Tide Jewels without being affected by the poison… that would take truly exceptional skills.”

  “We were warned the Khoryeons might attack the temple,” Kai burst out. “But I never believed they would launch a raid like this.”

  “We don’t yet know that it was the Khoryeons, Kaishin.”

  “But with the Tide Festival soon, if we don’t get the jewels back – ”

  “Have faith in Kakumyo. He’s always protected you, hasn’t he?”

  “But even he was fooled by the intruders’ Shadow skills.” The more Kai thought about it, the worse it seemed. “How are we to tell my mother? And the emperor?”

  “Kaishin.” The abbot gently placed one hand on his shoulder. “Why don’t you go and help Master Seishi in the infirmary? I’m sure he could do with an extra pair of hands.”

  ***

  In the quiet of the infirmary, the Master Healer worked with swift, skilled fingers to cut the arrow head out of the young shinobi’s shoulder. Two of the older apprentice healers assisted him, dabbing away leaking blood, standing ready to help sew up the wound and bind it. As the youngest apprentice, Kai’s role was to hold a lantern to light the operation.

  “And don’t faint on me,” warned Master Seishi. “If you haven’t the stomach for what you’re going to see, let one of the older boys do it.”

  “I won’t faint,” Kai countered. “I won’t let you down, Sensei.”

  Even so, as he watched the razor-sharp scalpel incising the raw, oozing flesh, probing around the embedded arrow head, he felt a sudden surge of queasiness. The hand holding the lantern began to shake. Kai forced himself to think of calming things: the sea beyond the monastery walls washing against the rocks on the shore, the fresh salt scent of the waves washing away the stronger odor of fresh-spilled blood…

  “Bring the light a little closer, Kaishin.”

  Had Seishi-sensei noticed the tremor?I can’t pass out now. The others will make fun of me.

  Yet as he moved in closer, he felt a faint throb in his wrist as he raised the lantern, in the place where the Flood Dragon seal was tattooed. The lantern illumined the thief’s upper body in a clear pool of yellowed light.

  “Lucky the lad knocked himself out cold when he fell,” observed Master Seishi as he carefully drew out the arrow head with his long tweezers. “Or he’d be calling down a thousand curses on my head right now.”

  He’s just a thief. He and his accomplice used forbidden Shadow skills to steal the Tide Jewels. And now my clan will take the blame. He deserves to suffer…

  Master Seishi dropped the barbed metal into the dish held by one of the older apprentices. “Lucky that no vital organs were damaged.” The other boy passed him needle and thread to sew up the incision.

  Kai felt the seal throb again; his arm must be getting stiff from holding the lantern over the thief. But as he looked down at the unconscious intruder he thought he noticed a tiny mark of vibrant green on the inner side of his left wrist. A flame. Not blue but green. Just like mine…Surely only one other person has an identical tattoo – and that’s the Ebb Dragon’s Sacrifice. And he would be about the same age as I am, just like this boy… The realization that he might have guessed the thief’s true identity erased all other thoughts from his brain. Or is this just another clever illusion designed to confuse us?

  What should I do? Should I tell Kakumyo? Or Abbot Genko?

  Master Seishi finished his sewing and straightened up. “Perhaps one of you could tell me what else you’ve observed about our patient?”

  “His right ankle is badly swollen, Sensei,” said the oldest apprentice.

  “Quite right. And what do you suggest we do to bring down the swelling?”

  No one else has noticed yet. Maybe only I can see it?

  “Kai?”

  Kai started. He was still staring at the boy’s wrist
. He’s Ebb’s Sacrifice. The queasiness that he had tried so hard to hold at bay suddenly resurged, bile rising in his throat. He fought to ignore it. “Strap the ankle tightly?” he managed to say.

  “And for that, we will need…?” Master Seishi said patiently.

  Red, raw flesh torn ragged by the barbs of his arrow head, the sickly salt-sweet scent of fresh blood… Kai felt his stomach heave. Pressing a hand to his mouth, he lurched from the infirmary as fast as his lame leg would allow, and only just made it in time to the uncultivated patch of ground at the back. There he pitched forward, retching until his stomach ached and his throat burned.

  Crouched in the darkness, gasping, his eyes watering, he wished that the stony ground would open and swallow him and his shame up. Get ahold of yourself. He pushed himself unsteadily to his feet, his sore stomach still griping, and wiped his befouled mouth on his sleeve. I have to tell Kakumyo what I saw.

  “I want a guard in here at all hours.” He recognized Kakumyo’s strident voice. The captain was so used to shouting out commands to his warriors that he seemed incapable of speaking softly.

  “He’s sprained his ankle; he won’t be running off anywhere anytime soon,” came back Master Seishi’s reply.

  “Kakumyo!” Kai called, but his throat was so racked from vomiting that only a hoarse croak issued.

  “Captain!” One of the warrior monks came hurrying up from the cliff path. “We’ve just spotted a small boat leaving the bay.”

  “Then let’s go after them!” Kai heard Kakumyo shout. “Borrow a fishing boat. Bring lanterns. They won’t get far…”

  “Wait, Kakumyo!” Kai went after him, calling his name. But the captain was already barking out fresh orders as his men scurried to catch up with him, and by the time Kai had limped to the main gate, he had disappeared along the steep winding path that led down the cliff to the beach.

  Frustrated, Kai struck a fist against one of the thick wooden posts of the gate. A slight, subtle shiver passed through his hand and up his arm, a sickening sensation as if he had jarred a nerve. Something was dislodged from the timbers, floating to the ground like a dry leaf. By the flickering flame of the gate lanterns, Kai knelt and fumbled around in the darkness until another unpleasant emanation warned him that he had found it, whatever it might be.