Chapter Song Suggestion - "Shuriken by Brandon & Derek Fiechter"
"Seize the manor!" the rebels bellowed, charging like a herd of riled cattle - loud and coarse.
Kyou grabbed the opportunity to knock a rider off his horse, straddling the animal with graceful finesse before plucking Inka off the ground. "Hee-yah!" he urged the animal into a full gallop.
"What are you doing!" Inka cried, wrapping a death grip around his waist. Her other hand fumbled to secure her turban against the knocking wind.
"We'll race them to the capital. I have a feeling Kusunagi's already infiltrated the manor and he's waiting for reinforcements. If we can get to the manor before the rebels, we can easily arrest him."
"What if we're too late?"
"Then we'll improvise. Once we reach the manor, I need you to do something."
"What is it?"
"I need you to light up the beacon tower. It's the tallest building in the compound, you won't miss it. It's imperative that you can do it." Solid determination radiated from him – not an ounce of hesitation.
It struck her that this was the Crimson King in action. She didn't realise she had been staring until he glanced at her, his eyes questioning.
"Just leave it to me," she blurted out. Inka surmised that the beacon tower would determine the outcome of the night. Despite the gravity of the situation, she felt alive. Since her father's death, she had been overwhelmed by grief and rarely left the camp – no hunts and no fights. To think that Kyou trusted her…she was determined not to disappoint him.
They deviated from the main path and rounded to the capital's back entrance. Jumping off the horse, Kyou said. "This entrance leads directly to the manor. Only one of us can sneak in without tipping off the guards. I will distract them while you find a way in. You just need to focus on getting to the beacon tower."
"You'll be right behind?" she whispered urgently, slightly unnerved to be doing this alone.
"You won't even have time to miss me," he promised and smacked the horse's rump, watching the animal take off with her.
Inka took a steadying breath to calm herself, concentrating on her task. She dismounted by a low wall and elevated herself onto the ledge. Surveying the area — no guards — she jumped and landed nimbly on her toes.
Cloaking her presence in the shadows, she proceeded cautiously to the manor, her eyes travelling up the length of an exceptionally tall building — square and bulky, stacked with huge piles of hay. Inka had no doubt, that was her destination. Agile as a cat, she scaled the manor's narrow roof, lying on her belly as she counted the number of patrolling guards. There were at least five but, none of them carried a bow. "Come on! There has to be at least one of you who does," she grumbled.
Suddenly, the rebellion's war cries penetrated the silence and the manor's gates rumbled with the force of being torn apart. The guards had no time to brace when a handful of men broke through. Amidst the mayhem, Inka spotted a bumbling soldier with a bow and arrow strapped to his back. Delighted, she snuck up behind and expertly pilfered his weapons. "I'll be taking these."
"Hey!" the soldier protested, twisting to nab her.
Inka evaded him and dashed for the beacon tower. Ripping off her sleeve, she tied it around the arrowhead and tested the bow's tension. Plunging the tip into a burning lamp, she aimed and released with trained precision.
Her heart swelled as the tower lit up in flames – a blinding light in the night. She hoped Kyou was watching from wherever he was.
"Who goes there!" a guard yelled, charging at her with his sword.
Hastily, she fled with a spring in her step, executing a flawless jump in mid-air and landing on the roof in a steady crouch. Twisting her head, she bit back a smile at the guard's infuriation that she got away. Now that her mission was done it was time to regroup with Kyou.
Thud!
She stopped in her tracks. What was that sound? Curious, she hunted it down, hunkering outside a particular chamber. Pressing her ear against the paper-thin shoji, she heard muffled voices. Her brows knitted together. What were they talking about?
She started at the abrupt yelp of pain followed by pure silence. Heart pounding, she shrank back reflexively. Had someone been killed?
Though she was desensitised to fighting, violence and even death, she had never killed a man. Harm, yes. But never to kill. Whoever was behind this partition was pure evil. But luck wasn't on her side when the shoji slid open and she fell forward, elbows hitting the hard wood.
"Ouch!" She flinched in pain, sprawled in an awkward position.
"Well, well what do we have here?" a familiar, oily voice drawled.
She froze, her eyes jerking up to a loathsome face. "Kusunagi!"
"I had a feeling you would track me down," he chuckled heartily, almost happy to see her. It made her leery. "I'm amazed you got this far. Let me guess, you had help? I clearly instructed my men to keep an eye on you."
"Well, clearly they chose money over loyalty." She rose in a defensive stance, hand slipping to the small blade behind her back. It irritated her how unaffected he was by her presence.
Kusunagi stroked his beard contemplatively. "Your friend must be a wealthy fellow to bribe my soldiers."
The last thing she wanted to do was make small talk with her mother's murderer. Her gaze dropped to the blood-stained knife in his grip. "What have you done?" Ashina tribesmen were expertly trained to wield any form of blades and Kusunagi was one of the few skillful warriors on par with her father when it came to swords and knives.
"Don't fret, Inka. I won't kill you. Yet." He spoke lightly, tossing the knife aside. "You came in time to witness Lord Daifuku's death, or should I say funeral?" He chortled at his own joke.
Her teeth clenched at his dismissive attitude towards her life. "What do you mean?"
"See for yourself." He stepped aside, pride evident in his tone.
Inka gasped wordlessly at the open-mouthed, elderly man on the floor bleeding profusely from his chest and stomach. It was obvious he couldn't be saved — his skin looking wan.
She choked when Kusunagi withdrew his sword and carelessly hacked off Daifuku's head. He picked up the rolling head with one hand and used the other to knock off her turban, seizing a handful of her hair. She cried out in pain, her blade clattering to the floor as he mercilessly dragged her to the main courtyard.
"Let me go!" she growled fiercely, punching him in the sides to no avail. He only laughed at her desperate attempts. Reaching the fighting soldiers and rebels, he tossed Daifuku's head into their midst. "Behold!" he roared victoriously. "This is the head of the lord you served! Surrender now and your lives shall be spared!"
The men ceased battling, eyes centered on the nobleman's head. The manor guards wavered. Their leader was dead. Like lost sheep, they dropped their weapons, choosing life over meaningless death.
"A wise decision!" Kusunagi praised, his gaze sweeping across the sea of resigned faces. "From this moment on I, Lord Kusunagi shall be the new master of this manor. All of you shall obey my commands. To my dear rebels who have fought bravely for the sake of your nation, you will be generously rewarded for your efforts!"
"You won't get away with this!" Inka hissed viciously.
Kusunagi's mouth curved into a spiteful grin. "Oh, I almost forgot about you. Since you're spoiling for a fight, why don't I give you a chance to kill me? A little exercise with my fellow tribesman will be fun."
"You're sick! What happened to you?" she demanded, horrified by his depravity. The man she knew was sound and not this stranger before her. He was supposed to be her father's best friend.
"Poor little Inka," he mocked, drawing out his extra sword. "This is the real me. All those kind words, dinners with your family and pretending to be your father's friend was all a set up for this day. For years I have waited patiently and trained to become the Chieftain, but your father robbed me of my dreams when he ascended to the title. We were always compared by others, but your father was the favored one, and he married your mother, the woman I loved."
This revelation stole the breath from her lungs. All this time, Kusunagi had harboured such deep hatred for her family. Had her parents known?
And love? It was incomprehensible.
"With your father as Chieftain, I thought all hope was lost," he continued. "But then it struck me that if he was gone, then someone will have to replace him."
"No," she whispered, the horror sinking in. "It was you, wasn't it! My father didn't die in battle. It always struck me as strange. He was an unparalleled warrior. He trusted you and you betrayed him!"
A hysterical laugh burst from his lips. "It was the best feeling to sink my sword into his flesh and he didn't even see it coming! The fool trusted me to watch his back and I did alright, I waited for the right moment to kill him. But it doesn't end there! With your father out of the picture, I stupidly believed I could nominate myself as the next Chieftain, but your mother stood in my way. Everyone believed she had the right just because she was his wife." He spat out crossly. "So naturally, she had to be removed too."
"You bastard!" she screamed, scrambling to her feet. Mercurial eyes flashed with fury. "You killed them because you were jealous! You felt inferior against my father!"
"If you put it that way, it's partially true," he shrugged coolly. "But that's not the entire reason. I'm a direct descendent of the true Ashina tribe yet your half breed father stole my right. I should have been appointed Chieftain. I would have led our people to victory instead of living like a lowlife in the desert mountains."
"My father wanted peace for us!" Inka fought back, feeling herself grow taller. "Your way of ruling would have led us to our demise as you are now."
His nostrils flared in anger, and he struck her down. "Shut up! You're just a little girl who doesn't understand the true meaning of power. I will show you just how great it is."
Without warning, he swung his sword and she dodged it by a hair's breadth. Her ears were still ringing from his punch. She cried out when the blade slashed her arm, drawing blood. Clutching the small wound, she searched wildly for a weapon. She would be damned if she let him get the upper hand.
"Ginka!" Drago called out from the crowd. "I won't question your reason for lying about your identity, but I won't stand for a man bullying a defenceless woman."
"Drago…,"
He eyed Kusunagi with repugnance. "We didn't know he was deranged but, we're not sorry for Daifuku's death." He handed her a sword. "Take it."
"Thank you," she murmured.
"Where is your brother?" Drago asked, his gaze searching the crowd.
"He's not here," she gritted out, ripping her remaining sleeve to bind her wound.
"Can you handle him?" Drago sounded worried.
"This is a fight between tribesmen. It's a dishonour not to face him straight on," she explained, assuming a battle stance.
Drago watched helplessly as she plowed straight at Kusunagi. The man wore a feral smile as their swords clashed violently. Metal sparks exploded in the air.
"May this be your downfall," she spat with vile contempt.