THE SMOKE DRAGON

Shane Jiraiya Cummings

Copyright © Shane Jiraiya Cummings 2011.

ISBN: 9780987076823

A print version of The Smoke Dragon appears as "Yamabushi Kaidan and the Smoke Dragon" in the anthology Fantastic Wonder Stories, ed. Russell B. Farr (Ticonderoga Publications, 2007, ISBN 9780958685689). This version was a finalist for the Aurealis Award (Young Adult Short Story) and the Ditmar Award (Best Novelette/Novella).

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. Except in the case of short-term lending, if you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All characters in this book are fictitious.

No reference to any living person is intended.

*  *  *

To Kazuo Crando Saito, the inspiration for Yamabushi Kaidan.

Chapter 1

In a Japan that never was ...

Yamabushi Kaidan balanced on one leg atop the blossom tree.

His robes fluttered in the wind as he studied the columns of smoke rising from the village below. The ghost-white blossom tree that crested the summit of Mount Akiyama afforded him a view of the entire valley—leagues of patchwork fields ringed by mountains shrouded in mist.

"That troubles me." He pointed to the line of smoke retreating from Kyuusai village.

The sparrowhawk screeched his assent, flapping his wings for emphasis—a mottled brown blur contrasting against the snowy blossoms.

"Yes, Tsubasa. An excellent idea," said Kaidan.

Tsubasa launched himself from a bough, swirling blossoms in his wake. He circled high above the mountain, leaving Kaidan to ponder the smoke wafting from the valley.

Blossoms floated around the Yamabushi, undisturbed by the southerly gale cutting through the trees. His broad hat, peaked with black in tribute to the metal tokin caps of his brethren, sat unbothered on his head. The hat, like the blossoms, held a tranquillity at odds with the South Wind.

Kaidan dived from his flowery perch, landing on the thickest of the limbs below him, and then sprang to the earth. His landing, although feather-light, threw up another cloud of blossoms.

He laid his hand on the trunk, closing his eyes for a moment. "Thank you for your patience, old friend."

A fast, irregular beat pulsed through his palm.

"It seems we have a guest on the mountain." He inclined an ear toward the tree line, listening to the trees suffer the South Wind’s ire—and something more.

Gathering up his iron-banded bo staff, he jogged into the forest and began the descent. The trees blurred as he raced through their midst, winding down the secret paths, jangling his bead necklace as he went. His staff was heavy, slowing his pace. After three recitals of the Mikkyo Chi mantra—invoking the earth spirit—to counter the wind magic used while on the blossom tree, the staff regained its normal weight.

Liberated to full speed, Kaidan became an off-white haze as he dashed downhill through the trees.

Ragged breathing from somewhere on the lower slope halted his descent as he neared the base of the mountain. He paused to listen, keeping his own breathing controlled. With a few whispered words, he slid behind a thick cedar trunk, disappearing from the world.

A bedraggled young priest struggled up the slope, panting and spluttering as he drew into view. A brown vest and white leggings declared him to be a Shugendo acolyte—a domestic brother to the itinerant Yamabushi. Exhaustion slowed the acolyte-priest’s pace.

"Akio," Kaidan whispered, grabbing the acolyte by the scruff with a bark-covered hand as he passed.

Akio screamed, and flailed blindly at the tree-beast until he was released.

Kaidan stepped from the trunk and into the forest-broken light, transforming from bark to man.

"Akio, it’s me. Kaidan."

"Yamabushi Kaidan!" said Akio, his voice raw. "I didn’t—"

"Do not be troubled. I caught you unawares. It is my shame for bringing you embarrassment." Laughter touched his eyes, despite his solemn face. He bowed low to the flustered acolyte.

Akio dropped to his knees after regaining some composure. His face was sweaty and red like a beet, even before he tried speaking. "Yamabushi ... Kaidan. My ... apologies." He gulped at the air, struggling for his next words. "Kyuusai ... has been attacked."

"I know. I was on my way to help." Kaidan extended a hand, pulling Akio to his feet. "Have some of this broth so we can be on our way. Hurry."

Kaidan withdrew a small phial from the depths of his vest and handed it to the Shugenja. "Quaff it all."

Akio studied the green ooze before unstoppering the phial. He closed his eyes, screwing up his face against the mossy brimstone smell, and downed it in one sharp motion.

"Good?" asked Kaidan, as Akio handed him the emptied phial.

Akio nodded, but a coughing spasm belied his answer.

"Let us go. Hold my pace and tell me what happened." Kaidan tugged at Akio’s sleeve and then jogged down the slope.

Kaidan watched the novice priest while he weaved between trees, muttering a chant in tune with his clanking beads and shell horn. Their momentum forced them to a run, but Akio gained strength rather than flagged.

"It was a dragon, Yamabushi," Akio told him between puffs. "A huge creature coiled in smoke. Fire sprouted from its jaws. We tried defending ourselves, but ..."

"Worry not, Akio. You acted wisely in seeking me out."

If Akio nodded, he missed it. Trees whirred by.

"Elder Keiji despatched a runner to the Shinichi clan," Akio said.

"Wanted to make life harder for us by looking to Kyuusai's enemies for protection, did he? I would not be surprised if Keiji didn’t want to run to Daimyo Shinichi himself when that dragon appeared."

Akio laughed but quickly stifled it.

"So we have about a day before the village is crawling with Shinichi samurai?" The question was left hanging in the air, lost to the greedy South Wind as they continued the downward rush.

"Tell me more of this dragon of smoke and flame," instructed Kaidan. The valley floor loomed ahead.

"It was huge, Yamabushi. Larger than the temple at Ise."

"Who did it strike against?"

"The attack was ill-coordinated. The beast burned down some of the outlying houses, scorched the well, and levelled the shrine. The bandits inflicted the worst on us. They ransacked many of the houses and the shrine, before the dragon burnt it down."

"Keiji’s house was attacked?"

"Yes."

Kaidan’s eyes were alive with thought as he scrutinised the young Shugenja. "How many? Where did they come from?"

"Maybe three score. It was hard to tell, we could see nothing for the smoke. It choked our eyes, mouths, and hearts. They came from nowhere."

"Did they bear any markings? Clan insignia?"

"No, Yamabushi. They wore only black."

"Which direction did the dragon strike for when it abandoned Kyuusai?"

"I can’t be certain, Yamabushi, as I had fled to seek you by then. I looked back as I reached this tree line and saw one smoke-drift off to the west."

"Very well, then. You have confirmed much of what I've guessed from the top of the mountain. Before I set out to find this dragon, we must tend to the wounded."

Akio nodded.

"It's best if the Shinichi clan have little to do with this affair. They've long sought a foothold in the Autumn Valley. I have a way of keeping an eye on the daimyo’s men." Kaidan glanced to the sky and chanted an inaudible sutra, weaving complex knots in the air with his free hand.

Kyuusai emerged into view as they trudged through knee-high grass, ferns, and sabre-pronged shrubs. The tall cedar forest gave way to the foothills. From the lower slope, it was clear the village struggled for life against charred ruins and smoking scars.

"Akio?"

"Yes, Yamabushi?"

"Did they find the scroll I entrusted to the shrine?"

"No." Akio withdrew an ivory cylinder from the folds of his vest. Lines of writing—sutras and incantations—were etched onto its surface. "I carried it to freedom. But I neglected to remove the decoy scroll."

A smile rose from beneath Kaidan’s broad hat, matched by the acolyte’s.

"They will be back." Kaidan adopted an old man’s gait, leaning on his staff as they descended into battle-scarred Kyuusai.

Tsubasa swooped across the village, through wafting smoke, before winging his way from the valley.

#

Chapter 2

The sparrowhawk perched atop the samurai’s helmet, tucked behind the oval Shinichi clan insignia. His landing was weightless, a practised manoeuvre. His shimmering invisibility a mask no human could penetrate without acute perception. No doubt Kaidan would laugh at his audacity.

Tsubasa observed the small column of riders as they galloped for the Kita Pass, and the village of Kyuusai in the Autumn Valley beyond. Nine riders were all the daimyo had chosen to send. Eight samurai in burnished cobalt plate and lacquered bamboo armour, all with matching clan insignia on their helms. One warrior rode ahead. He was more brutish than the rest, even in the saddle. The bright crimson armour, stylised as a bear, marked him as leader.

Tsubasa chose the samurai at the end of the column—the ideal place to surveil the band—but the sloppy ride jostled him around. The sparrowhawk quickly regretted his choice—this samurai was at the rear for a reason.

Tsubasa’s torment soon ended as the column slowed and reformed into two, in preparation for the Kita Pass. Again, his adopted samurai dropped to the rear. Their pace was deliberate as they traversed a path that wound between cliffs and trees that crowded toward one another. Gnarled root systems riddled the cliffs, forming the legendary living walls of the Kita Pass. The pass was rich in earthy fragrances of moss and moist dirt.

"Hey, Teraku," Tsubasa’s samurai said to the man riding beside him.

The other samurai squinted at the helmet Tsubasa perched on for a moment, and then stroked his angular beard. "What, Haru?"

"Hideki told me this village was attacked by the Oni."

"Nonsense," chided Teraku. "Haven’t seen ogres or demons before. I’m not afraid of folk tales. You shouldn’t be either, Haru." Teraku jabbed his finger toward him to emphasise his point.

"Hideki is wise. He’s been in Shinichi’s service for many years. He’s seen things. Told me things." Haru’s voice was tight and child-like.

"I’d not pay attention to the stories of grey-hairs and scribes."

"He said a dragon was loose in the countryside. That it was looking for babies to eat, and treasures to steal away to the Spirit World."

"Don’t speak of such things, Haru. It’s nonsense." Teraku’s hand drifted to the sword at his hip, his eyes darted from tree to rock to tree. His dappled brown mare snorted and shook its head.

"But Teraku, what if it’s true? What if Uncle Takahiro is sending us to our doom. There are only—"

"Enough!"

Flapping wings filled the nearby forest. A quartet of olive coloured birds took to the sky.

A few of the warriors glanced behind them, their gaze moving from Teraku to a red-faced Haru. At the head of the column, their leader rode in silence.

Tsubasa kept his ears sharp, but struggled to tear his gaze from the receding group of birds—White-eyes by their markings. His hunting instincts simmered.

"I’m sorry, Teraku," Haru whispered, once the other samurai had turned away.

"Don’t speak of such things. Daimyo Takahiro is an enlightened man. He knows how to maintain peace. Besides, these disturbances are usually bandits. Have faith in your sword."

Haru nodded, almost shaking Tsubasa from his perch. "You’re probably right. My uncle would not send me—us—here to die."

The samurai negotiated the final section of the pass at a cautious gallop and entered the Autumn Valley. The blossom-crested expanse of Mount Akiyama dominated the view, the centre of a line of mountain enclosing the valley. Greenery spanned the valley floor, wild grasses and shrubbery. Dwarf ferns and spiky-leafed shrubs dominated the lower slopes before giving way to the stands of cedars and oaks. Cultivated land wasn’t feasible this close to the highlands. The creatures of the wild mountains were extremely territorial.

Within sight of home, Tsubasa sprang from Haru’s helm, rocking the man’s head. The sparrowhawk wheeled in the air, watching the chubby samurai rearrange his helmet while wearing a slaw-jacked expression.

"What was that?" the bird heard him say.

"Just your imagination, Haru," Teraku answered. "Now calm yourself, before the Bear notices your prattle."

Soaring away, Tsubasa detected the tang of smoke on the breeze.

#

Chapter 3

The destruction in Kyuusai was superficial—burnt walls and collapsed supports. It was the frightened spirit of the people that cried out to Kaidan.

"Akio," he called to the Shugenja. "Are there further people waiting?"

Bent over an old man in meditative prayer, Akio took a few moments to register Kaidan’s words.

"No, Yamabushi. Wait, Elder Keiji may need some attention. I’ve not checked on him yet."

Kaidan nodded, and then watched the last of his patients shuffle away through the sliding paper door. The woman had been scared more than hurt, but herbs and Mikkyo chanting had soothed her nerves. She left the door open a fraction, allowing a cooling breeze to wash through the room and toy with the arrangement of burning candles.

Waiting for Akio to finish his ministrations, Kaidan wandered over to the door and studied the scene in the daylight beyond.

The Shugendo shrine at the west end of town—once a striking array of bright red pillars and curved tiles—was burned to blackened rubble. The closest thatched huts were also smouldering wrecks, totally uninhabitable. Charcoal still hung thick in the air.

It was only through the kindness of others, such as the Fujita family, that allowed them to set up a new, temporary shrine and place of healing. The Fujitas gave over their home unconditionally, allowing the Yamabushi and refugees residence for as long as necessary. Widow Mizoki and her two boys had taken up the offer, along with old Tenryu, who had been badly burnt in the attack. She was tending his wounds in the Fujita's sleeping quarters. Everyone else had been billeted amongst family and friends.

Footsteps on the boards alerted Kaidan to Akio’s approach.

"May you find the blessings of happiness," he said as Akio guided the old man to the door. Kaidan wove the sign of good luck with his fingers. The old man bowed deeply, before shambling into the sunshine and towards the centre of the village.

Kaidan closed the door and ushered the priest back to the makeshift shrine. The candles filled the room with a sultry heat, tinged with the scent of wax.

"Akio, you have done well. Your mantras are strong, and you channel Ki like a Shugenja with many more years of experience. Kyuusai is lucky to have you."

"Thank you, Yamabushi." Akio bowed low, perhaps to cover his flaring cheeks.

The door slid open, revealing a slender girl covered in a green silk yukata—a dress, less formal than a kimono—patterned with herons. Finery rarely seen in such an agricultural outpost.

"Yumi, you’ve blossomed, child," greeted Kaidan.

She bowed, careful not to spill the water sloshing in the bucket she carried.

"Thank you, Yamabushi. We are honoured to host you." Her formal tone contradicted her lively gaze, which was anchored on Akio, who was trying to reposition himself behind Kaidan.

Kaidan bowed very low, leaning considerably onto his staff. A smile crossed his face as he left Akio to suffer under Yumi’s appreciative eyes. When he straightened, his face was solemn once more. A quick glance at the acolyte confirmed his suspicion—Akio’s face blazed scarlet.

"Thank you for your hospitality, and the water, Yumi," Kaidan gestured for her to place the bucket on the floor. "I wonder if your father shares your feelings?"

Yumi blushed this time, turning her head slightly to recover herself. "My father welcomes you, of course."

"Is he in need of healing following the attack?" Kaidan paused. "Or your mother?"

"Mother has been unwell since the dragon came, and Father has cuts along his arm. He’s proud. He has not sought Akio’s aid."

"Allow us a few moments to prepare remedies, and we will meet you at your home."

Yumi bowed again, sparing a glance for Akio, before slipping out the door.

Kaidan turned to the young Shugenja and gave him an appraising look. "This village is always full of surprises."

Akio nodded sheepishly.

"You still have much to learn, Akio. Come, gather the herbs and cloth."

#

Chapter 4

Elder Keiji had always been an obstinate man.

"Show me your arm. If you prefer, I’ll look at it when you’re slumped unconscious on the floor." Kaidan stamped his staff for good measure.

"Leave me be."

Kaidan locked eyes with the village elder, in many ways Kyuusai’s sovereign, if such a position existed.

Behind Kaidan, Akio tended to Yumi’s mother Hisa—a handsome woman with knitted grey hair and eyes that spoke of many lifetimes worth of secrets. She was lying across a tatami mat and propped up on a cushion. Kaidan could feel her gaze on his back. Yumi stood mute by the door.

"Don’t allow your bitterness to be your undoing, Keiji," said Kaidan. "I’ve accepted the choices of the past. Embrace your future."

"You’ll not touch me, mountain wizard!"

Kaidan stepped forward, glowering from beneath his hat at the old man. The two men—proud and resolute both—stood toe to toe, neither flinching nor willing to look away.

"So be it," said Kaidan in a level tone.

A quick flick of his wrist was all it took. The iron-banded staff darted forward, smacking Keiji on the temple. A snapping blow that dropped him cold.

Yumi’s gasp filled the silence.

"Akio," Kaidan barked. "Tend to the elder’s wounds. I’ll abide by his wishes and not lay a hand on him." Whirling around, he spotted Yumi. "You assist him."

Yumi and Akio glanced at each other, and then broke the connection, clearly fumbling with self-consciousness.

Kaidan stalked over to Yumi’s mother, bundled an arm around her, and carried her into the next room. He laid her gently down onto the floor and began a fevered chant. His words ran together.

"Kaidan," she laid a hand across his prayer-knotted fists.

The words slipped from his mind, tumbling to silence as memories of her skin against his awoke something repressed inside him.

"Kaidan, don’t waste your mantras on me."

He looked into her eyes, the cedar-brown he always remembered. "Why? Yumi said you took ill after the dragon attacked."

"No. I’ve been feeling this way for quite some time. The pain flared up during the attack."

"Hisa. You should have told me. I could have—"

"What? Used some incantation on me? We both know that’s not a permanent answer."

Kaidan removed his hat, allowing his long straight locks the colour of starlight to crowd his shoulders.

"Tell me, where do you feel the pain? There must be a root or herb that can cure this." Kaidan absently fingered at his necklace of prayer beads.

"No. My years have been fruitful. I’ve known the chance to see joy in my daughter’s eyes. I’ve had a man—men—who’ve loved me with the fullness of their hearts."

"Hisa, I—"

A sound at the window snatched his attention.

Tsubasa stood there, his wings folded and his yellow eyes alight.

"We'll finish this conversation later."

"Don’t come back, Kaidan."

He donned his hat, leaving his silver hair unkempt. He rose, propping himself against his staff more than usual. His fist was clenched into a tight ball.

"I mean it, Kaidan," Hisa continued. "Don’t return. Do what you must, but looking at your face, ageless and unlined and so much like when we first met ... it’s all too painful."

"There are ways, Hisa. I would brave them to see you strong again."

She looked away, the hint of a tear staining the corner of her eye.

Kaidan strode from the room.

"Akio," he called. "Meet me at the shrine when you’re done with Keiji.

Akio and Yumi exchanged a look before watching the Yamabushi storm from the house. The sparrowhawk landed on Kaidan’s shoulder as he took the thoroughfare, headed for the edge of the village.

The Earth rumbled of riders approaching from the north, but the West Wind whispered of something far more sinister drawing near.

#

Chapter 5

"Akio, you must safeguard the scroll. Don’t let the dragon get it. Don’t let Shinichi’s men know of it, either. It must remain secret."

"Too late." Yumi rolled from behind the ruins of the shrine. She was clad in a dark emerald-green gi—wrapped pants and folded jacket bound with a wide fabric belt, ideal for combat. A short sword hung from her belt.

"What are you doing?" Kaidan asked.

"Defending my village."

Kaidan’s eyes darted from Yumi, to the approaching riders, to the cloud of smoke on the horizon, and back again. "Very well. Can you fight?"

The sword flashed from her scabbard, an arc of silver in the afternoon sun.

"Never draw a blade unless you intend to draw blood. You should know this is a samurai tradition." Kaidan moved to the tip of her outstretched wakizashi and pierced a finger on its keen point. A single drop of blood seeped down the edge of the blade, dissolving as it went. "There. The sword will not be restless when you next draw it."

The fire in her eye wavered for a moment before she sheathed the short sword.

"What is so important about that scroll Akio carries?" Yumi asked.

"It's best neither of you know."

"Yamabushi, I do not wish Yumi to face a dragon and armed men. Not with so few to stand with us," Akio said, not looking at the girl at all.

Kaidan turned to Akio and searched his face. "Then say it to her."

Yumi glared at the acolyte as he mustered the courage to meet her gaze.

"Yumi, I..."

She faced Akio, hand on sword hilt, her mouth and fist taut.

"Yumi," Akio repeated. "I don’t want you to die out here with me."

Her expression softened as Akio’s became less guarded and self-aware. It was probably the first honest moment they’d shared since childhood.

"I agree, Akio," Kaidan eyed them both. "Yumi will not die out here. She will help protect the scroll. Both of you seek shelter in the Fujita house. The makeshift shrine will offer some protection."

"But, Yamabushi—"

Kaidan whirled at him, his eyes alight with inner fire.

"Yes, Yamabushi," Akio acceded, offering a bow.

Kaidan looked to Tsubasa, who was unobtrusively nestled on the top of a snapped charcoal pillar. "Yes?"

Tsubasa tilted his head back and released a sharp screech.

Kaidan nodded, before turning to Akio and Yumi. "Hurry. The riders approach. Ensure all the people are indoors. When they are safe, barricade yourselves in the new shrine."

Nine Shinichi samurai trotted into view. They advanced toward the centre of the village. Their path destined them to cross that of Akio and Yumi.

Kaidan raised his seashell horn to his lips and blew two rapid, piercing blasts. With an effortless leap, he ascended to the tallest of the old shrine's ruined pillars, landing next to Tsubasa. The sparrowhawk fluttered his wings a little, but otherwise betrayed no emotion.

Raising the horn again, he sounded it twice more. The samurai turned as one to see him waving his staff in the air. They wheeled their horses around and galloped straight for him, leaving the village unmolested.

As the red-plated samurai drew his troops closer, Kaidan glanced over his shoulder to gauge the advance of the smoke column. The true enemy.

It was close. Within a league, and almost within sight.

The field at this western edge of Kyuusai was flat and surrounded by short, spindly bushes and a few stunted oaks. It was a perfect battleground to duel with a dragon.

The West Wind murmured of promises and deception.

Tsubasa remained on his perch, eyeing the samurai as they circled the razed Shugendo shrine. Instead of finding the Yamabushi, the samurai discovered ghost-white blossoms gently rolling with the wind.

#

Chapter 6

"It was an Oni," Haru muttered. Only Teraku, Kaidan, and Tsubasa could hear him. The other samurai had spread out, moving from the shrine to the other scarred buildings at the edge of Kyuusai, and to the treeline beyond. No one thought to check beneath the ash and rubble where Kaidan concealed himself.

"Quiet," Teraku said. "You’re panicking the horses."

Sure enough, both samurai were having trouble reining their horses in. The mares were skittish and reluctant to obey even simple commands.

"But you saw him. Normal people don’t disappear. It must've been the work of demons. Or ghosts!"

"Stop it, Haru. For the last time, there is no such thing as ghosts or Oni or dragons. He looked more like a monk, anyway."

"A monk?"

"Yes. A Shugenja. They’re common around here. Could even have been a Yamabushi. They like their mountains."

"Old Hideki warned me about the Yamabushi. They’re sorcerers, he says. Too wild to live with civilised folk. Mark my words, Teraku. They’re as bad as the Oni."

Teraku shook his head. "They’re just crazy old hermits. A little soft-headed, nothing more. Now will you shut up and keep your eyes sharp before The Bear returns?"

The other samurai returned to the shrine. Tsubasa looked down on them with unreadable yellow eyes, while Kaidan meditated under the cover of his camouflage, gathering calm around him. He attuned his senses to the whispers from the world beyond.

"Teraku, find anything?" the red-clad leader bellowed.

"No, Captain Karuido."

"Haru?"

"No, sir," Haru kept his head bowed, not meeting the Captain’s eye.

The Bear grunted. "Kanaye? Roichi? Takai?"

All the samurai shook their heads. Karuido’s face raged the same shade as his armour.

"Karuido?" Teraku said.

"What?"

Teraku pointed to the west. The bamboo plating on his arm trembled.

The smoke cloud flared close by, clogging the sky with its fury. The sun was transformed into a tiny orange bead as the world darkened. The cloud spread its reach across the countryside and the village, carrying the stench of brimstone and charcoal. Its source was almost on top of them, obscured only by the hazy air and a crest in the outlying field. The winds had stilled, choked out by the leaden smoke.

Haru coughed.

"Form up," barked Karuido. "Single line."

He lowered the metal bear mask on his helmet.

Kaidan sprang free of his hiding place, shaking the worst of the ash from his once cream-coloured leggings, vest and robes. He took his time, knowing the Shinichi samurai were fixated on their approaching enemy.

Tsubasa took to the air, gliding and cutting through the thick haze as he took in the battlefield from an aerial vantage point.

An indistinct behemoth crested the rise and stepped onto the field. The beast was vast and unlike any dragon Kaidan had ever seen, as big as the temple at Ise, as Akio had suggested. It was squat, possessing an expansive—almost square—body, stubby legs, and a short neck. A near-vestigial tail finished it off, ending with a ball of hazy spikes. The creature’s body was entirely wreathed in living smoke, like the fiery bellows of the Hells given earthly form.

The beast’s head was its fiercest aspect—the most typically dragon part of its anatomy. Fire forked from its eyes, nose, and mouth—all stoked by the same infernal blaze from within. Dagger-sized teeth, each a spike of smoke solidified, contained the geysers of flame spewing from its mouth.

The smoke dragon advanced, lining the samurai in its sights. Every step of its rippling, dwarfish legs should have shook the earth. Instead, the beast stalked in silence, lending it a ghostly, unsettling quality.

Karuido drew his sword and held it high, invoking his ancestry as he screamed his kiai—a warrior’s battle-cry. Karuido’s stallion reared in the face of the dragon, but held its ground. Kaidan admired the samurai for his bravery and zeal.

His fellow Shinichi warriors didn’t share his enthusiasm. Kaidan suppressed a chuckle as the others fled to the four winds. Only the chubby one called Haru remained—cowering behind the fallen Shugendo shrine after losing control of his fleeing horse.

Karuido turned to see his troops desert him just as the dragon spewed forth a huge gout of flame. The attack was clumsy and missed the lone samurai by several horse-lengths. Karuido barely reined his stallion under control before the first wave of warriors rushed him. They appeared from nowhere.

Kaidan darted forward, his staff raised and ready to strike. Like Karuido, he shouted his own kiai—an invocation of the Mikkyo Ka fire spirit to energise his limbs and empower his strikes in battle.

The smoke dragon advanced with methodical care now its black-clad allies raced before it. A dozen warriors, outfitted with disparate weapons—swords, naginata polearms, scythes—and piecemeal armour, cast themselves at the horseback samurai and the streak of white lightning that was Yamabushi Kaidan.

Kaidan took to a clump of three warriors in a blur of motion, whirling his staff in a bludgeoning arc, catching all three across the face and torso. They fell where they stood, destined to remain unconscious in slumped heaps for many hours.

Likewise, Karuido cut a brutal swath through the bandits with his katana. He slashed as he galloped, his warhorse's battle instincts suppressing its fear. Where Kaidan was a mesmerising dance of white in the sun-drowned haze, Karuido the Bear was a crimson streak of death.

Their paths crossed beneath the flaming breath of the smoke dragon. With their immediate opponents defeated or dying, Kaidan’s dervish-spinning and The Bear's rampant charge met head on. Karuido continued to bear down on Kaidan, even as Kaidan paused and lowered his staff.

The samurai’s katana sliced down but met the defence of Kaidan’s upraised staff. The Bear slashed twice more—both blocked—before he wheeled his stallion around to run the Yamabushi down.

As the horse’s iron-shod hooves rammed into the earth, Kaidan leapt into the air, twisting and somersaulting until he passed over The Bear's head and landed, seated behind him on the horse.

The pair duelled back to back in the saddle—Karuido whipping out his short-bladed tanto and stabbing at the Yamabushi, while Kaidan parried and bludgeoned with the middle of his staff. The close-quarter combat was awkward but brutal. One mistake and Kaidan would be gutted.

The dragon ended the contest prematurely. A torrent of fire ripped across the field, terrifying The Bear's stallion. It reared, dumping both riders. Kaidan rolled fluidly, regaining his feet within a heartbeat. The Bear wasn’t as lucky, crashing to the ground at a dire angle, absorbing the force of the blow across his left shoulder. The horse’s flight took it toward the village and safety. Its rider groaned in agony, abandoned on the shredded field.

The smoke dragon loomed over the fallen samurai, bellowing a strange, echoing roar—one that swept the village with its ferocity—and unleashed another vortex of flame.

The attack missed its mark; Kaidan swept the samurai to safety. More warriors appeared from the smoke trailing the beast, another dozen at least.

Mustering a Mikkyo Chi incantation, Kaidan snatched up a leaf and pressed it to his lips. The effect was instant; it expanded to man-size proportions. Throwing the giant leaf to the earth, he then bundled The Bear atop it and pushed him toward the village with the sum of his strength. The leaf carried the samurai as a toboggan, skittering along grass and dirt at extraordinary speed to disappear somewhere in the charred outskirts of Kyuusai.

Kaidan turned to face the oncoming bandit warriors, tipped his hat to them, then sprang forward like a grasshopper. He somersaulted once, landing with one foot on the apex of the closest warrior’s head. His sandals imprinted a mark on the man’s scalp and forehead.

Before the warrior could cry out in surprise, Kaidan flew through the air, springing onto a second man, then a third. The bandits waved their weapons, catching only air and smoke in Kaidan's wake. His final leap, his greatest with the momentum, took him soaring up to the smoke dragon’s head.

Bringing his staff down with a thunder-crack, he caught the beast across the snout. The Mikkyo-enhanced attack sent shockwaves cascading through the creatures head and down its neck. Its smoky exterior rippled from the force, threatening to dim and snuff out.

On his descending arc, Kaidan pulled acorns from his jacket and hurled them at the creature’s head, calling again upon Mikkyo Chi—the power of elemental earth. The handful of acorns exploded on contact, erupting in blue-white clouds that singed the air with electricity and obscured the creature behind fizzing azure gas.

The warriors stood awed by the offensive. Only when Kaidan renewed his attack on them did they regain the sense to fight.

Kaidan spiral-kicked his way through their ranks, calling upon Mikkyo Fu to lend him a whirlwind’s fury. Smoke, loose leaves and blades of grass swirled with his assault. With a few decisive combinations, the Yamabushi laid out his opponents in a sprawled tangle of limbs.

Soon enough, Kaidan stood victorious at the centre of a field of crumpled warriors.

He turned, expecting to find the smoke dragon levelled by his onslaught when the blue fog cleared. He backed away toward the village when the flaming eyes of the dragon pulsed with the same intensity, seemingly unaffected by his efforts. The beast roared its hollow roar.

"What?" Kaidan muttered as he withdrew.

The smoke dragon advanced, moving within range of the village outbuildings ruined in its first rampage. A half dozen more bandits appeared from the dense smoke. They approached ahead of the dragon and fanned out toward the village, wary of the Yamabushi.

"Tsubasa!" Kaidan called to the sky.

The sparrowhawk spiralled through the blue-grey smoke, and then disappeared again.

Kaidan worked his incantation, communicating with the bird from a distance.

The thought-images flooded through his mind. The dragon. The warriors. Where they were coming from. Within the blink of an eye, it all made sense.

Kaidan laughed—a roaring, uncontrolled outburst that froze everyone on the battlefield. "Thank you, Tsubasa. Get well behind the dragon. This will be entertaining."

Leaping backwards, Kaidan took a position atop the wobbling, shattered shrine once more. He raised his seashell horn to his lips and blew three long calls. The eerie sound echoed through the valley, penetrating the smoke and the villagers’ fear.

"There is no deception in the Spirit World. Let the nature of things be revealed!"

The sky beyond the smoke swirled from blue to rainbow-pearl. The colours of the earth faded to shades of bone. Trees fell away, the mountains receded. Even the smoke from the dragon cleared.

Winged and feathered unicorns—Kirin—floated through the sky, along with other less hospitable creatures. Wisps of unhoused spirits formed along the horizon of his vision. Hungry ghosts yearning for blood and ki.

Through this temporary passage to the Spirit World, Kaidan’s eyes were open to the fraud of the smoke dragon. It was little more than a wooden frame cobbled together atop wide, padded wheels. In the centre of its skeleton, a further group of the black-clad warriors pushed the artificial beast forward. Three more men worked an exotic bellows and metal piping system that fed from a tank in the beast’s innards up to the head.

Kaidan examined each of the men inside, laughing when they sensed his stare. Only one man appeared unconcerned. At the Yamabushi’s lingering scrutiny, he withdrew something from a belt pouch and inked his forehead in the design of an incantation. He abruptly vanished from the Spirit World.

A rustle of movement at the base of the shrine snagged Kaidan’s attention. Haru, the Shinichi retainer, cowered below him. The samurai’s face was ashen. He gaped at the surreal landscape and the inhuman shapes soaring overhead.

With the approach of unsavoury spirits and malignant creatures, curious at the human intrusion, Kaidan sounded his horn in the same extended three blasts. In moments, the world rearranged itself from the blandness of ivory, pearl, and bone to bright swaths of natural colour. The smoke returned, as had the impressive illusion of its originator.

"Hey, samurai," Kaidan called down to Haru. "Run for home and tell everyone of the evil that befalls the enemies of Kyuusai and the Yamabushi."

At first the samurai shook his head fervently, refusing to budge from his soot and filth sanctuary. A glower from Kaidan, and another hollow roar from the smoke dragon did the trick, empowering his legs with energy born of terror. Haru scuttled toward the northern road.

Kaidan jumped to the ground and strode forward, removing another acorn from his vest. Chanting another mantra, he hurled this one at the centre of the smoke dragon’s torso—aiming directly for its creator. The acorn slipped through the outer layer of smoke.

Nothing happened at first, but then traces of blue smoke wafted from the dragon’s belly. Soon enough, the dragon billowed competing blue and black smoke. The illusion soon faltered altogether, revealing the flimsy exoskeleton he’d witnessed from the Spirit World.

The bandits took a long time to understand their ruse was up. Kaidan stood steadfast in the false dragon's path, his battle staff at the ready. The bandits eventually faltered under Kaidan's scrutiny, looking to one another for direction. Their leader disappeared with the illusion.

Only the reckless charge of Karuido the Bear, recovered a little from his fall and having found his horse, spurred them into action. The remaining dozen warriors abandoned the dragon shell, choosing more traditional weapons of wood and steel to finish the battle.

Karuido swept forward, his sword held awkwardly in one hand. His top-knot swung in the breeze now his helmet had been lost.

A smear of soot flickered before the dragon shell. Kaidan spotted the incantation the tattooed bandit wove, almost too late. A maelstrom of iron darts hurtled towards the reckless Bear.

Kaidan leapt in front of The Bear, twirling his staff in a cyclone of motion. Within heartbeats, he stilled. Darts were scored along the length of his staff. With a shake of his wrist, Kaidan twisted the staff and flung the darts into the ground.

The Bear raged behind the Yamabushi, frustrated that his heroic charged was stalled.

"Monk, you have stolen my honour for the last time!"

Kaidan barely managed to turn before the katana whistled through the air. The blade sliced through a cloud of yellow mist and flower petals, nothing more.

"Damn you!" Karuido scanned the area, oblivious to the bandits who stood around equally confused. The fog of battle had descended upon everyone’s minds.

The Bear didn’t notice the camouflaged Yamabushi clinging to his stallion’s belly.

Kaidan whispered to the horse as its owner roared another kiai at the warriors, and flourished his sword for good measure.

The Yamabushi slipped from the horse to crouch beside its neck.

"Goodbye and good luck. Keep your Shinichi master out of this valley." He slapped its flank, propelling both horse and rider off into the countryside—headed north towards the Kita Pass and Shinichi holdings. The samurai's screams of indignation faded into the distance.

A crash followed by the clang of steel snatched Kaidan's attention away from The Bear's ignoble exit. Yumi fought a desperate battle against two bandits beside the ruins of the old shrine. A third waved a spear at Akio, who defended himself with a charred club. Yumi weaved between her opponents, hacking and deflecting their blades, while edging closer to Akio's assailant.

Kaidan brandished his staff in wild arcs to throw his remaining opponents into disarray. With a sudden snap, he turned and swiped the ground. He connected with a stone and sent it hurtling across the battlefield. Akio's opponent's head snapped back an instant later. He collapsed in a heap.

Yumi took advantage of the moment, batting the scythe from one of the bandit's hands. She followed up with a kick that caught the disarmed warrior in the side. He doubled over in pain.

As Kaidan moved on the bandits still in the field, tendrils of black ink snaked through the air, catching him by surprise. They tore through his vestments, slamming against his body, throwing him to the ground.

Distracted by the Yamabushi's fall, Yumi awkwardly blocked a savage sword blow. Her blade snapped under the attack. It skittered along the dirt.

Kaidan’s head rang from the sorcerous blow. A whine pervaded his ears. Shaking the effects off, he struggled to his feet.

He opened his garments to inspect his torso. Sigils of prayer and protection were painted in silver and blue on Kaidan’s chest. They absorbed the savagery of the blow.

"Give me the real scroll, Yamabushi!" snarled the bandit with the forehead sigil. He had reappeared on the battlefield surrounded by smoke and soot.

Kaidan loosened his shoulders and mentally prepared his mantras.

"Yamabushi," called Akio. Two bandits had their weapons levelled at the Shugenja. A third had disarmed Yumi and pressed a blade against her throat.

Kaidan forced himself to calm, swallowing saliva mixed with traces of blood. The battle, and the bandit’s sorcery, had taken their toll.

"Yamabushi. Take this worthless trinket and give me the real scroll." The bandit leader tossed the decoy scroll at Kaidan’s feet.

He bent slowly and retrieved it, slipping it into his vest.

"Let those two go free, and you'll have the scroll you seek."

"I am a man of my word, Yamabushi. Perhaps you've heard rumours of me? I’m known as Ryuji the dragon sorcerer."

Kaidan shook his head.

"It’s of little consequence." Ryuji stepped forward but was unable to keep the scowl from his face. His stringy black hair was of similar length to Kaidan’s, although his nails were coal black and talon-length. A pattern of dots had been tattooed in black ink in a semi-circle around his right eye, which gave Ryuji's face the impression of a lop-sided droop.

The hastily painted sigil on his forehead pulsed and rippled, puckering into wrinkles where ink met skin. "Give me the scroll, and those two will be released. On my honour."

"Honour follows you to the grave, Ryuji. There are an infinite number of lifetimes lived after death. Be careful with such promises. Particularly to those who have the means to hunt your spirit down and bind it in torment for eternity."

Ryuji flinched, but the moment passed quickly.

"Do you still hold to your honour, sorcerer?" said Kaidan.

"I swear it."

"Akio. The scroll."

"But, Yamabushi..."

"Now." Kaidan slowly nodded his head.

Akio pulled the scroll from his underclothes, tossing it over to Ryuji.

Tsubasa streaked through the sky, swooping down with claws outstretched, but Ryuji was quicker, snatching the scroll up with a snake-like stretched arm. The sparrowhawk reeled away with empty talons.

The sorcerer weaved lines of soot in the air around him, vanishing from view as the cloud enveloped him. He disappeared, trailing a cackle and the stench of rotting vegetables on the breeze.

The other bandits glanced around in confusion. Aside from the four guarding Akio and Yumi, a small grouped milled about the defunct smoke dragon. Now leaderless, and abandoned to face the Yamabushi, they chose wisdom and fled—leaving Akio and Yumi stunned but unharmed.

Kaidan allowed them to scatter, but his gaze lingered on their backs until they'd cleared the furthest perimeter of Kyuusai.

#

Chapter 7

"Yamabushi." Akio threw himself down at Kaidan’s feet. "I've failed you. The scroll is lost."

Yumi prostrated herself beside him, simmering despite her down-eyed obedience.

Kaidan allowed them to wallow for a few moments as he shuffled his weight onto his staff. Tsubasa returned from circling the battleground to land on his shoulder. Kaidan bent down and touched both young people on the shoulder, sharing a smile with them.

"Such are the ways of the world," Kaidan walked in measured paces for the sanctuary of Kyuusai. Yumi and Akio followed.

"But Yamabushi, we must set out to retrieve the scroll." Akio rolled up his sleeves for emphasis.

"And you, Yumi, do you believe this is the correct path to take?"

"My failure urges me to action, but there is something else. Something you are not telling us."

"Very good. I’m glad your father hasn’t had too much of an influence." Kaidan plucked a shattered spear-tip from his staff. "Do either of you know of the scroll’s purpose?"

"No, Yamabushi," they answered together.

"If I said it did nothing, that would be unfair. However, for all practical purposes, it really does nothing—there is no secret to the scroll. Once you counter the incantations on the case, you find inside an excellent set of Haiku. I imagine our new friend Ryuji will be discovering this for himself some time tomorrow."

Akio frowned, creasing his eyebrows together in concentration.

Yumi merely nodded.

"But Yamabushi, we’ve been safeguarding a scroll that does nothing?" Akio asked after further thought.

"Yes, Akio. While it contains no special power or hidden knowledge, it does have a purpose. To draw out the corrupt and the power hungry. Rumours of such scrolls are circulated by the Yamabushi all the time. When petty tyrants emerge to seek the scrolls, the Yamabushi identify the evils of our world. Our self-opinionated friend, the dragon sorcerer, has just earned himself a long list of enemies."

Akio’s face lightened, the burdened removed.

"What of us, the people of Kyuusai? Our lives have been risked for nothing?" Yumi ran her thumb across her shattered blade, before sheathing it. Her face was darker than the dispersing smoke.

"It is a necessary evil, young one."

She turned on her heel and, without another word, stepped over the bodies of the fallen and stalked away.

"One day you may understand." Kaidan whispered.

Akio moved to follow her but was stopped by Kaidan's staff."She needs time, Akio. We all do."

The struggle played across the Shugenja's face, but he nodded in the end. "What are you going to do now, Yamabushi?"

Kaidan pulled the rim of his hat low, casting his face in shadows once more. "I will say goodbye to Yumi's mother. Properly. Then I must meditate further atop the blossom tree. There are many paths to take but I suspect they will all lead back here." He pointed to the buildings of Kyuusai, admiring their rustic grace. Dwellings dead, dying, and still vibrant, like the phases of his heart.

Mount Akiyama loomed above him and the village. The gentle East Wind was laced with the faint scent of snow blossoms, magic, and adventure. The West Wind whispered of intrigue and discord. Finally the North Wind swirled through, oblivious to the raging South, and carried the distant drums of wars fought for passion and for love.

The End (for now)

*  *  *

Kaidan, Akio, and Yumi return in Circle of Tears, Book 1 in the Adventures of Yamabushi Kaidan series of novels, due to be published in 2012.

Circle of Tears is an expansion on the events that began in The Smoke Dragon, which culminates in an epic battle as Yamabushi Kaidan and his band of nine legendary heroes do battle with the evil yokai army of the Circle of Tears for dominion over Japan.

Get a sneak peak of Yamabushi Kaidan's adventures in Circle of Tears by reading an exclusive excerpt of the next chapter, The Ghost of Musashi ...

The Ghost of Musashi

The mountain stream swirled crimson as Kaidan washed the blood from his hands. The blood eddied in the current, a floating stain diluting as it dashed across the rocks downstream. The four winds remained silent as reproach to a world that murders its own. The cedars and pines stood still, tense.

Kaidan muttered prayers of purification as he shook the last of the blood and water from his hands. The icy water numbed his fingers, but absorbed in his thoughts and chanting, he barely registered the sensation.

"Yamabushi," Akio called from the far bank. Dirt covered his knees and sleeves. "I have completed the rites. Shigekazu's spirit may now find its final peace." He clutched his prayer beads, an imitation of Kaidan’s habit.

Kaidan nodded. Akio laid his impromptu walking staff aside and kneeled like Kaidan by the water to cleanse his hands with water and purification chants.

"You are looking more and more like a Yamabushi everyday, Akio." Kaidan regained his feet, exposing the grass stains on his outer robe. Their garb was identical, save for a few minor differences like Kaidan’s cream-white vest. Only his travelling robe, shell horn, and broad hat distinguished him as a Yamabushi. Kaidan leaned on his iron-banded staff to gather his concentration.

Akio smiled a tight smile, offering a nod as he continued to cleanse himself in the stream.

"We must return you to civilisation soon before your heart turns wild like mine." Kaidan stepped into the creek, walking from stone to stone with absolute poise. His final step to the other bank was unsupported by a stone—he tread lightly, barely rippling the flow.

"I’d enjoy learning the ways of the wild one day, Yamabushi." Akio completed his cleansing.

"Those ways are not for you until you master the secrets of Mikkyo and understand every facet of life as a Shugenja. Only then should you truly choose." Kaidan smiled wistfully. "Besides, there are other choices to make. It’s best to understand what you lose before coveting what you hope to gain."

Akio nodded, falling in step with Kaidan as he walked toward the grave mound.

Despite their position on the lower slope, glimpses of the fertile valley beyond were clear through breaks in the forest canopy. The cedars here were sparse, the product of ad-hoc logging by the outlying hermits and farmers.

"How has Yumi been since the battle with the Smoke Dragon?" Kaidan asked, gazing toward Mount Akiyama, with its ghost blossom peak, and the village of Kyuusai spread at its base.

Akio blushed but didn’t falter in his stride. "She has devoted herself to martial training. Yumi insists on becoming a great warrior, much to her father’s chagrin. She aspires to bushido and the skills of a samurai."

"In this, I agree with her father." Kaidan smiled to himself, faintly shaking his head. "I never thought I’d be agreeing with old Keiji. The Heavens have a cruel sense of humour."

"Yamabushi, what’s wrong with aspiring to the sword to protect that which you cherish?" Akio said quietly.

"Nothing. It is the aspiration to the samurai code that concerns me."

They reached the burial mound, their morning’s labour. Freshly turned earth was obvious before the trunk of a lone oak. Kaidan had carved the man’s name into the wooden grave marker—Shigekazu—a proud local farmer, strong in his faith, according to Akio.

A brown sparrowhawk swooped down to perch on the grave marker.

"Tsubasa, no!" Kaidan waved the bird away.

Tsubasa fluttered his wings a few times before finding a new perch on the lowest oak tree branch.

"Do not disrespect the dead, Tsubasa." Kaidan shook his head.

"Who do you suspect killed Shigekazu, Yamabushi?"

"What do you think, Tsubasa?" Kaidan eyed the sparrowhawk, tilting his head slightly as if hearing an answer. Tsubasa screeched once—a short, piercing cry that echoed through the forest.

"There are Shinichi samurai nearby."

"Surely not?" asked Akio.

"Never trust the samurai, especially those with personal vendettas—the samurai code of bushido does not consider those below it. The Bear of the Shinichi has harboured a grudge since that farce with the dragon. It would not surprise me if this was his brutality at work."

Kaidan and the sparrowhawk turned as one, their attention focussed on the lower slope.

"What?" Akio followed their gaze.

Kaidan crouched and pressed his palm into the soft earth near the grave. Heavy thuds of men, the groaning of tree roots, and the garbled whispers of Shigekazu’s shade tingled up his arm. "Warriors approach."

Akio readied his makeshift staff. He looked tentative and ungainly.

"Akio, to the stream."

Kaidan jogged down to the stream, with Akio shadowing him.

Chanting the Mikkyo Sui mantra, Kaidan invoked the element of water to aid him.

"Akio," he said. "You must stand your ground here to draw their attention. Have no fear, but do not give my position away by looking at me."

The young Shugenja nodded. Sweat gathered along his brow.

Sparing Akio a final glance, Kaidan dropped to the ground and rolled lengthways into the shallow stream. The chill water broke over him for a moment before resettling into its natural flow.

Kaidan watched with water-warped vision the timid Shugenja peering into the water. From the outside, he’d appear to be submerged like a spectre from the Spirit World floating between life and death.

He gestured at Akio to back away from the stream. As he did so, one of his sleeve ties drifted like an eel on the current.

Kaidan watched Akio move back as he heard the reverberating footsteps of men in armour. They appeared at the creek’s edge. Four samurai wearing diverse unmarked armour. Ronin—samurai for hire. They were intent on Akio, who had retreated out of his view. Kaidan glimpsed Tsubasa regarding him from the middle branches of an overhanging pine. The sparrowhawk’s yellow eyes were wide with curiosity.

Kaidan sprang from the stream as the first of the samurai began a tentative crossing. Exploding in a blinding spray of water, Kaidan unleashed a flurry of kicks before whirling his staff around, knocking the warrior face-up into the shallows, unconscious. A heartbeat later, when the spray subsided, Kaidan stood balanced one-legged on a stone in the centre of the stream, his battle staff poised to the side in an outlandish fighting stance. Despite the water dripping from his robes, his clothes were merely damp, not saturated and clinging to his body.

"Ha! Yamabushi, your tricks won’t fool us." The samurai at the centre of the trio raised his katana above his head, adopting an aggressive battle stance. His armour was dark green, his helm antlered.

The others spread out, assuming the fighting stances of their regions. The samurai in efficient grey chose defence, holding his sword ahead, while the other, decked out in composite blue and brown, wielded his katana point down as though stalking the earth.

Kaidan muttered Mikkyo incantations woven of Fu and Sui—air and water.

"Look out!" called Akio from behind.

The grey ronin stepped forward, a clumsy feint to disguise the blue-and-brown warrior’s strike. Kaidan easily caught the blade with the end of his staff, driving it deep into the earth with supernatural force.

He remained balanced on one foot.

As the samurai struggled to free his half-buried blade, their leader sprang at Kaidan, slicing in two quick motions at the Yamabushi. Kaidan blocked the first, hopping into the air to avoid the sweep at his leg. His landing on the stone sent ripples coursing through the stream that were snatched by the incessant flow.

The blue-and-brown samurai abandoned his sword, pulling a shorter wakizashi blade from his belt. In tandem with the grey-clad warrior, they pressed Kaidan with a series of blows, forcing him to retreat onto another stone.

Kaidan spun his staff in a sudden frenzy of motion, reversing the samurai onslaught. His spinning took on a supernatural bent as his chanting grew louder. The whirling staff fanned gusts of wind at the samurai, increasing in intensity until they barely held their ground.

Still twirling the staff, Kaidan ducked to snatch a pebble from the stream. He tossed it with accuracy, striking the pine tree Tsubasa nestled in. The tree shuddered.

Kaidan took hold of his staff with both hands, abruptly cutting short the cyclonic gale.

A rain of pine needles floated toward the ground on a lazy zephyr. The samurai paused, still dazed from the gale, staring up as the pine needles began falling to the earth. Amid this arboreal shower, Kaidan somersaulted forward in one giant leap. He landed in the centre of the samurai’s formation, again remaining in a one-legged stance.

As the pine needles continued to fall, the samurai slashed and parried as an ill-coordinated team, pitting their skills against the Yamabushi. Their strikes, while individually precise, were poorly timed, resulting in momentary pauses. The pauses gave Kaidan time to counter-attack, block, and swing. The samurai fought more cohesively as the duel raged on, timing their strikes enough to force Kaidan to hop back once, twice.

With the continued rain of pine needles, the warriors' agility progressively dulled. Their battle dance of quick steps, back and forth, scored a star-shaped trail in the gathering needles. At last, when the rain subsided and the earth was piled ankle-deep with the tiny green needles, the joints and recesses of the samurai’s bamboo armour were stuffed and inflexible.

Taking advantage of their sluggishness, Kaidan stunned the henchmen with two successive blows, following up with a snap across the knuckles that disarmed the antlered leader.

Tsubasa continued to observe from the bough of his near-naked tree.

The Yamabushi planted his feet and swept the samurai’s leg as he made a clumsy attempt for his knife, dumping him to the ground.

Kaidan glanced up at the sparrowhawk. "Did you enjoy that?"

Tsubasa appeared to nod.

Turning his attention to the warrior, Kaidan planted the butt of his staff firmly on his chest plate, pinning him. He kicked off the samurai’s helmet, revealing a pinched face and hair without a top-knot.

Akio splashed across the stream and then waded through the pine needles to join the Yamabushi. "He’s been disgraced."

The samurai spat, catching Akio on the vest. Scowling, Akio wiped it with his sleeve.

"Who sent you, ronin?" Kaidan ground the staff harder into the man’s chest.

He grimaced, clenching his teeth.

Kaidan invoked the earth element, Mikkyo Chi.

"Who hired you?" The grinding intensified, splintering the ronin's chest plate. Bamboo cracked and the samurai’s face reddened as he gasped through gritted teeth.

The pressure increased, snapping bamboo and buckling the armour into the man’s chest.

"Shinichi," the samurai spat. "The Bear."

Kaidan relaxed his grip on the staff. Some of the redness faded from the samurai’s face.

"Your orders were to kill me and me alone?"

The man nodded, his eyes slitted from the pain.

"Did your men kill the farmer, Shigekazu?"

The samurai nodded again.

"Why?" Disbelief was plain Akio's on his face.

Kaidan placed a hand on Akio’s shoulder. "Answer him, ronin."

"We were told he knew where to find you," the samurai spat. "He said nothing."

Kaidan took up his staff, striking the man across the side of the head. The smack was the sound of a struck log. The ronin slumped back, eyes and tongue lolling in his head.

"Did you kill him?" Akio’s eyes were as wide as bowls.

"No, that is not our way," Kaidan said, adding, "if it can be helped."

"What will be their punishment?"

Kaidan rubbed the beads of his prayer necklace. "Gather up their weapons. They will be left to ponder their mistakes."

Kaidan reached down and retrieved a fistful of dirt and then carried it to the stream and chanted over it. He then applied the mud to the foreheads of the prone warriors while Akio slipped their swords from their belts.

Written on their faces were the characters for murder, dishonour, and contemplation.

"Their spirits are doomed to restlessness in the next life, but I offer them a chance for a kinder fate. They will not be able to wash these stains from their skin unless they take drastic action. Every night the mud remains, they will relive their shames in nightmares. With enough restless nights, they may choose to atone for their mistakes."

Akio nodded, glancing at the armoured men sprawled in the dirt with clumps of pine needles piled around them. The muddy characters on their foreheads would be hard to conceal. As he contemplated their fate, water gushed over the rocks in the stream—a constant in the background, breaking the silence that pervaded the forest.

"Come, Akio."

Together, they followed the coils of the stream, descending towards the valley. Kaidan glanced back at his foes, still subdued, and predestined to murderers' fates in Yomi, the lightless underworld. The scent of pine infused the area. It would haunt these murderers' dreams.

"This is why I do not wish Yumi to emulate the samurai," Kaidan said.

"I don’t understand," said Akio.

"With enough training, anyone can become a slave to the arts of death, but it is the arts of life that enrich our spirits and the world in which we live." Kaidan paused. "Yumi’s mother understood this."

Akio nodded. He struggled with a half dozen weapons bundled under his arm.

As Kaidan strolled along the stream, he spotted a small toad sunning itself on a rock. With a slow, deliberate motion, he scooped it into his palm. The toad croaked once but appeared tranquil as it stared up at the Yamabushi.

"Hello, little Gaeru." Kaidan bowed slightly to the amphibian, stroking it with his thumb. "We should return to Kyuusai. It has been weeks since I’ve looked upon its broken tiles from my mountain."

"Yes, Yamabushi."

"We must also rest this evening and perform the rejuvenation rituals. My ki is depleting. I will instruct you on some of the techniques."

"Thank you." Akio bowed awkwardly around the swords he carried.

"You can dump those under that boulder." Kaidan pointed to cleft beneath a rock thrust out from the earth. Tall grasses fringed most of its perimeter.

Following Kaidan’s suggestion, Akio stashed the swords away but he paused and tested the weight of the green-scabbarded katana.

"What are you doing?"

"I will gift this to Yumi, after it is cleansed of the ronin’s taint."

"It is a fine sword," Kaidan agreed. "But have you not heard what I’ve said of the samurai and their code?"

"Yes, Yamabushi, but this is finer than anything Yumi could hope to obtain. She will need a katana of quality, whether she abides by bushido or not. Order me to throw it aside if you must, but my heart tells me Yumi should make this choice. She is smart and capable."

Kaidan muttered to himself, stroking the toad fervently. It croaked its discomfort. The pair followed the creek in silence, winding their way through the sparse forest of the lower slope. The burbling water was a constant companion, interrupted by the toad’s protesting croaks.

The Yamabushi was the first to break the long silence, some time after the sun had peaked in the sky.

"I knew a samurai who believed himself invincible. His name was Miyamoto Musashi."

"The legendary Musashi?" Akio was stunned.

"Musashi lived a long, turbulent life. He agitated people, intentionally goading them into fights. He grew so irritating with his incessant duel challenges that a Kappa cursed him to itching sores. Musashi challenged that Kappa clan at Narahito Bridge and defeated their best warrior, although he did have a substantial advantage."

"What was that?"

"The largest Kappas are no bigger than a child, and water-dwellers besides. Although to be fair, Musashi did defeat the Kappa champion in two duels, the first on the bridge, the second in the river. I imagine the second duel was considerably more even."

Akio tested the weight of the katana again. It was heavy in his hands.

"Musashi was not known for his humility," Kaidan continued, "and when he foolishly capered after defeating the Kappa, the clan chief laid the curse upon him. Ironically, Musashi’s disgusting appearance aided his many victories, and he went on to become the greatest samurai in the land."

"So how did you know of him?"

"I only knew him after his death ..."

To be continued in Circle of Tears ...

*  *  *

About the author:

Shane Jiraiya Cummings lives in Perth, Western Australia. He has been acknowledged as "one of Australia's leading voices in dark fantasy", had more than sixty short stories published in Australia, USA, and Europe, and his work has been translated in Spanish, French, and Polish. Shane has won two Ditmar Awards, and he has been nominated for more than twenty other major awards including Spain's Premios Ignotus.

Shane is an Active Member of the Horror Writers Association and former Vice President of the Australian Horror Writers Association. When he is not writing, Shane is an editor and journalist by day and sword fighting instructor by night.

In his youth, Shane was trained in the deadly arts of the ninja, and the name Jiraiya (lit. "Young Thunder", after the legendary ninja Jiraiya) was bestowed upon him by his sensei.

More information on Shane (including his free fiction) can be found online at http://www.jiraiya.com.au.

Interact with Shane on Facebook (http://www.facebook.com/pages/Shane-Jiraiya-Cummings/401910315831) or rate and review his books on Goodreads (http://www.goodreads.com/jiraiyac).

#

You can find Shane's other e-books at all good online retailers:

Novellas:

Phoenix and the Darkness of Wolves (Damnation Books). ISBN: 9781615720552

Requiem for the Burning God. ISBN: 9780987076809

Print version first published in the anthology Cthulhu's Dark Cults, ed. David Conyers (Chaosium). ISBN: 9781568822358

Collections:

Apocrypha Sequence: Deviance. ISBN: 9780987076830

Apocrypha Sequence: Divinity. ISBN: 9780987076847

Apocrypha Sequence: Inferno. ISBN: 9780987076854

Apocrypha Sequence: Insanity. ISBN: 9780987076861

Shards. ISBN: 9780987076816

Print version, illustrated by Andrew J. McKiernan (Brimstone Press). ISBN: 9780980567724

Available from Brimstone Press: http://www.brimstonepress.com.au

Chapbooks:

Shards: Damned and Burning, illustrated by Andrew J. McKiernan (Brimstone Press). Free download from Brimstone Press: http://www.brimstonepress.com.au