Gonji: The Soul Within the Steel: The Deathwind Trilogy, Book Two (60 page)

“Or
her
neighbors,” Paille reminded.

Heads were shaking.

“Who has opposed all our efforts?” Gonji asked. “Vehemently opposed them from the start?”

“
Himmel
—that covers a lot of non-combatants, for starters,” Gerhard advanced.

“Maybe it’s just the opposite,” Nagy observed, scratching his head. “Maybe it’s somebody who’s been
too
militant. That’s what Mord would want, ain’t it? Somebody to start trouble so that he could crush us?”

They all looked to him, grim and thoughtful.

“Phlegor?”

“He was arrested.”

“That could have been a ruse.”

“What for? What else could he do now that he’s gone, expected not to return?”

“Wait,” Gonji commanded, giving them pause. “I remember now—Jocko, good old Jocko, in Zarnesti, telling me something about this army of Klann’s having too many bosses. He would say that orders would come from the king, then separate orders would come from Mord, always for the mercenaries. It was in response to such orders that we committed the outrage at the monastery....
Great Kami
—Mord’s purpose may even be inimical to that of Klann
himself!
”

“What are you talking about?”

Gonji stood, eyebrows knitting. “Add it up, gentlemen: what Jocko told me—the mystery crop spoilage—the poisoning of Klann—this-this—filthy worm from the depths.... And there’s another thing. I recall Tralayn speaking of
mana
, the force drawn from the living so that the sorcerer can work his devices. Tralayn said there was always a price to pay for black sorcery. These mercenaries who ride with Klann—I can tell you that they seem more devoid of humanity than any bandits I’ve ever known. Could Mord be draining them through this ‘faith chant’ they offer for him? And the children of the Akryllonians—I’ve never seen such pathetic-looking—
damn
you, Mord!
”

He ran toward the castle tunnel, the others jumping to their feet and following, apprehensive.

“If the militia training plans are known, then certainly there are more effective ways to quell us,” Gonji spoke, inflamed by the revelation of it all. “He wanted
Rorka
destroyed because he fears Rorka’s
Church
connections. That’s why they were in flight, the
3rd Free Company
—” He drew a ragged, wrathful breath. “—when I encountered them.”

Gonji’s eyes bulged with fury now. His friends had never seen him so hostile, not even in the Zarnesti fray.

“He wants the city destroyed, and he has his spies report our every move,” the samurai continued, simmering now. “He must know everything about us—as if that will do him any good....” His voice had shrunk to a boiling whisper.

“You’re staying,” Wilf said behind him, eyes shining with renewed hope.

Gonji turned to him, trembling with pre-volcanic emotion, at the moment unconcerned with his unseemly Western display.

“
Hai
, Wilfred-san,” he rasped, gripping the young smith’s hand, “there is evil to uproot in this good place. And a castle to be taken.”

Wilf s jaw set with trembling determination as they stared into each other’s eyes. Then the entire band looked into the castle tunnel.

“Fire that tunnel,” Gonji ordered coldly. “Collapse it. It can only be harmful to us now. All our planning has been compromised by a traitor—may the Great
Kami
allow me to live to face him.”

“Her—?” Karl reminded again.

“Him or her, the time will come,” Gonji said with finality. “I don’t like having been a plaything. I don’t like being regarded as a fool whose efforts are futile. And you
bushi
will prove Mord wrong. He thinks we’re
playing
at being knights, that Rorka was his only worry. We may yet provide him with a surprise or two.” He waxed reflective as they moved back to the center of the cavern to view the creature’s carcass again. Wilf eased up beside Gonji.

“He went down kind of easy, when you think about it,” Wilf thought aloud. “I mean, in spite of—”

“Hai,”
Gonji agreed, “that’s what I thought, too. He wasn’t meant to crush the militia, just to inspire us to rebel in full force, in panic....
All-recht...
Mord may get more than he bargains for.”

* * * *

The tunnel to the surface had been cleared, and the runner sent to check on Vedun confirmed that nothing unusual had occurred during the day. Their agreement over the truth of their situation was enhanced.

It was about that time that Paille came dashing madly from the alcove that housed his precious diorama. He was hurling imprecations at the downed worm-thing, his dagger held on high. When he reached the carcass, he began to slash at its tentacles.

In the alcove they found the reason for the artist’s sudden choleric outburst: his painstakingly constructed miniature of the city had been crushed. Shaking their heads in collective frustration, they were about to depart when Monetto tapped Gonji on the shoulder, sucking in a breath.

The tiny figures of crushed militiamen had begun to writhe hypnotically of their own accord, as if in the throes of death.

“Burn it,” Gonji directed, his voice now devoid of emotion, his control reestablished.

Tora could not be found, many horses still scattered throughout the tunnels; so Gonji had another steed, a gray roncin mare, saddled and readied for him. He left orders for them to report back to the city and begin the careful removal of weapons, armor, and other useful equipment to the surface.

“Tell your father what’s happened, Wilf,” Gonji said. “Tell him that if anyone can stop Mord now without bloodshed, it will have to be him. He may be the only person who can gain Klann’s confidence. Move the horses back slowly—find Tora for me, and take care of him,
dozo
—”

Wilf nodded indulgently, but interrupted him: “Where are you going?”

Gonji seated his swords in his
obi
and pondered his words before replying. His thin smile was humorless. “Let’s just say that I’m off to meet with a legend.” He chuckled at Wilf’s puzzled frown and clapped him on the shoulder. “If I succeed, you’ll know soon enough. If not...it isn’t going to matter.”

They were drawn to a group huddled around the dead giant worm.

“Send that vile thing up in flames already, will—?”

Gerhard held up an armor-piercer arrow, its tip strangely discolored. “Look at that stuff, eh? From where Paille slashed it open. The worm’s venom—it impregnates anything it touches. Do you think—?”

“Is that my quiver?” Gonji asked.

“Ja.”
Gerhard smiled and cocked an eyebrow speculatively. “Might be worth a try,
neh?
”

Gonji cast him a sly glance and nodded. “Finish the job. I’ve got to move.”

Soon Gonji was astride the roncin, swords sashed at his waist, his three-man longbow lashed to the saddle, the quiver of poisoned arrows tied behind him. Several
bushi
trailing behind him grimly, he walked the horse to the mouth of the southern valley’s exit tunnel. Then he turned the mare back toward them suddenly, the last rays of the setting sun filtering through the tunnel’s concealing foliage, bathing Gonji in its red glow.

The samurai scanned his warriors’ haunted faces. Faces radiating fear that threatened to engulf all hope. Gonji snarled and spat beside the horse’s withers.

“Hey!” he growled. “Who are you? Babes crying out for their mothers to kiss their scratches? Or the warriors who have fought nobly beside me? Fire up your will and hone your weapons!” He pointed back out the exit tunnel. “
They
threaten your city, your families, with their cowardly brutes and their idiot giants. Their flying filth and their...their worms—
worms!
And still you are unconquered. For you—all of you—are the
Dragon.
And the Dragon shall have his hour!

“Sayonara,”
he shouted, bowing sharply and spurring the horse out into the valley.

The militiamen watched him go, their fears and hopes mingling wordlessly. Then they shuffled heavily back into the cavern to begin the difficult work ahead. Each man absorbed by his own thoughts. The prayers of the group an open book to all.

THE END

of Book Two of
The Deathwind Trilogy

THE DEATHWIND TRILOGY CHARACTER INDEX

Alain Paille,
an artist and poet; Vedun’s antic genius

Aldo Monetto,
a biller; friend of Karl Gerhard

Anna Vargo,
wife of Flavio’s counselor Milorad

Anton, the Gray Knight,
last retainer of Baron Rorka

Anton Torok,
a lorimer

Baron Ernst Christophe Rorka,
deposed baron of the province

Ben-Draba,
King Klann’s Field Commander

Boris Kamarovsky,
a wood craftsman; friend of Strom Gundersen

Captain Sianno,
a Llorm officer under King Klann

Danko,
a tanner

Eduardo,
young leader of a band of street urchins

Esteban,
second-in-command of King Klann’s 3
^rd
Free Company

Father Dobret,
itinerant priest; confidant of Simon Sardonis

Flavio,
Council Elder of Vedun

Francisco Navarez,
Captain of the 3
^rd
Free Company

Galioto,
a farmer and dairy stockman

Garth Gundersen,
chief blacksmith of Vedun

General Gorkin,
King Klann’s castellan

Genya,
servant at Castle Lenska; beloved of Wilfred Gundersen

Giacomo Battaglia (Jocko),
cook for the 3
^rd
Free Company

Giselle,
beloved of Janos Agardy

Gola the Butcher,
a mercenary

Gonji Sabatake-no-Sadowara,
an itinerant samurai on a quest through Europe

Goodwin,
an English merchant

Gornick,
a farmer

Greta,
betrothed of Jiri Szabo

Gutschmidt,
owner of the Provender Inn

Hawkes,
an English mercenary with the 3
^rd
Free Company

Helena,
a young deaf-mute in Vedun

Hildegarde,
a Nordic warrior-woman; a former bandit

Ignace Obradek,
a blind wagoner

Ivar,
Llorm lieutenant under Captain Julian Kel’Tekeli

Jacob Neriah,
a traveling merchant

Jana Torok,
daughter of Anton

Janos Agardy,
a clubfooted militiaman; a romantic poet

Jiri Szabo,
a young militiaman; betrothed of Greta

Julian Kel’Tekeli,
captain of free companions in the occupying army in Vedun

Karl Gerhard,
a brilliant archer, fletcher and hunter; friend of Aldo Monetto

Klann the Invincible,
mysterious enchanted king who has invaded Vedun

Klaus,
an oafish militiaman

Kovacs,
a lorimer; father of Lottie

Lady Gorkin,
wife of the castellan

Lady Thorvald,
a mistress of the king

Lancaster,
an English merchant; companion of Goodwin

Lorenz Gundersen,
eldest son of Garth; Vedun’s Chancellor of the Exchequer

Lottie Kovacs,
a castle servant; lover of Richard