World's Edge (37 page)

Nameless paused, and Moriko wondered where this was going. “They all said that of the two, it was the man who was stronger, the one who can cut the wind with his blade. But now I think they lied, or were deceived. I think it is you who is the dangerous one.”

Moriko felt a perverse pride at being honored by her enemy. But she didn’t know how to respond.

He smiled. “You are a brave warrior, and I will grant you a warrior’s end. Tomorrow morning we shall duel.” His judgment pronounced, he turned to go back into his tent. There were looks of shock around the circle of hunters.

Moriko was also surprised. “Why not just kill me?”

“You are the strongest warrior of the Southern Kingdom. I am the strongest warrior of my people. When we meet tomorrow morning, it will be as though the war has already begun. If you win, you can save the Three Kingdoms. If you lose, it will be a good omen for my army. It is the way a warrior should die.”

Moriko understood then he was honoring her. She bowed slightly to him in response to his offer.

He turned his head as he was lifting the flap of his tent. “Tonight, all your bindings will be cut. No one will guard your tent. You are welcome to try to escape. But if you do, my hunters will pursue you with a fury you haven’t yet experienced. You will die a coward. No more boys, now that I know your skill. If you stay, you will be fed and well rested. You must be at your best tomorrow. When the sun rises, you will fall before me in battle and I will take your head in one clean cut. You should be honored. I have not drawn my sword for some time in combat.”

Nameless went into his tent without another word. Moriko’s mind was racing. Neither option sounded appealing. Either way, it sounded like tomorrow morning was the last sunrise she would ever see.

The evening crawled along, content to take its time. Moriko was fine with it. She was convinced she was going to die the next day. She’d give him everything she got, but his power was beyond her comprehension. It was more than anyone should possess. It was too much. She knew she was going to die, and there was a lot to think about.

There was a part of her that was angry. She and Ryuu had never asked to be brought into this conflict. If they’d been left alone, they would have stayed away from it all. Moriko didn’t want any part of politics or war. All she wanted was to live and be left alone, but fate kept wrapping her in its cruel embrace. As fascinating as Azaria was, it wasn’t anything compared to a quiet night looking at the stars with Ryuu.

She was angry at him too. She knew they had made the decision together, but how could he have let her go? What happened to him after they separated? She wondered if he’d ever made it to the island, and if he did, what he had found there.

With the thoughts of Ryuu came sorrow. She’d never get to find out what he had discovered on the island, or if the island existed at all. She’d never be held by him again.

But she was strong. Stronger than she’d ever been. Maybe even stronger than Ryuu. She had killed five hunters on her own in the prairie. Perhaps the Azarians were right. Maybe it was all about strength. Strength was the ability to exert your will on the world.

Moriko sat through the evening, thoughts rushing through her head. Every time she tried to hold one, it slipped away, draining through her mental grasp. But as the evening began to fade, she felt at ease. Her life had been far from perfect, but it had held beautiful moments too. Tomorrow she would fight with everything she had, and if she lost, so be it. She was ready.

Stepping from the tent, Moriko was greeted by a blood-red morning sky. She shook her head gently. It seemed appropriate, considering what lay in store. She would miss Ryuu.

Moriko went through her morning routine, holding herself back. It was the first time she practiced since she had met Kalden over a moon ago. It was freeing. The muscles in her body remembered every move, every strike, and she moved with a practiced grace. Her shoulder was sore where it had been cut, but it was functional. She ached in a dozen different places. It had been a hard moon. But she was as ready as she’d get.

She sensed Nameless behind her, but she paid him no mind until she was finished. When she was done, she turned around to look at him. The appreciation was evident in his eyes.

“Among our people, women fight as our men do, but never have I seen a woman with such skill. Your practice is beautiful.”

Moriko lowered her eyes at the comment. She wished she wasn’t so proud of the approval she received. “Thank you.”

“Are you prepared?”

A simple question, but one that spelled her death. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak with dignity. The fear was catching in her throat.

“Very well.” Nameless barked something out in Azarian, and all the hunters gathered around her, forming a loose circle about twenty paces wide. They were evenly spaced out, and although Moriko knew they were only observers in this battle, they were alert and ready to prevent her escape.

Moriko drew her sword and took in a deep breath. As Nameless drew his own blade, Moriko felt her mind settle. Cycles of training took over. Everything external fell away, her focus on his body and the point of his blade. She was terrified, but she no longer felt it. Her fear had been locked in a cage, an observer like the hunters around her. She didn’t suppress her presence. Although she knew Nameless would be aware of her ability, if she could utilize it in a key moment of their battle, it might turn the tide in her favor.

Nameless, confident, didn’t hesitate to come in for the first cuts. Moriko deflected them easily, knowing they were tests. Nameless wanted to know her strength. She feinted, but Nameless didn’t buy it. He slapped it away almost carelessly.

They retreated a pace. Nameless judged her for a moment and leapt to the attack. This time he wasn’t testing. His cuts were true and fast, and it took Moriko all her skill to block them. She was moving backwards, giving him ground, approaching the edge of the circle. Moriko focused her thoughts and snapped, Nameless’ blade slowed down, her own cuts came faster. The tide of the battle turned, and Moriko dared to hope that she could win this fight. Back and back they moved, passing each other with speed Moriko had once only dreamed of.

Nameless unleashed a flurry of cuts that drove Moriko backwards, but as soon as she had a moment of freedom she launched herself at him, low. She was much smaller than him, and although he was fast, she wanted to bring the fight down to the ground. Her blade flashed at his shins, ankles, and thighs, and Nameless was forced to give up ground, even faster than Moriko had lost it. His blocks were awkward as he tried to protect parts of his body he wasn’t used to having attacked.

Moriko drove Nameless to the edge of the circle with her low cuts. Without room to maneuver, he leapt in the air, and Moriko’s heart leapt with joy. Once you committed to an attack in the air, you were easy to defeat. Once committed, it was hard to change your angle of attack, and a quick opponent would make short work of you.

But Nameless didn’t attack. He kept his sword low, using the energy from his jump to strongly deflect one of her strikes. She struck hard to stay on the offensive, but he’d gained the smallest opening, and his sword snapped forward with power Moriko wasn’t prepared for. She tumbled backwards, rolling to her feet before he could take advantage of his strike.

They met again in the center of the circle, and again Nameless gained the upper hand. It wasn’t much, but every cut of his was just a little faster, each deflection a little stronger. It was barely enough to notice, but in a battle this close even the width of a hair could make all the difference.

They broke apart, and Moriko took the opportunity to study him. She was pleased to see he was cut, more than once. She was sure she was bleeding too, but she couldn’t feel it. The silence from the surrounding hunters was appreciative. He came again, faster than before. Moriko couldn’t believe his speed. How could a man so large move so fast? She had never faced anyone so quick and so strong.

Moriko gave up ground again, and no matter what techniques she tried, she couldn’t regain control of the battle. She pulled out her last trick. In between strikes she went inside of herself, focusing all her energy. It was hard to suppress her presence while in the middle of combat, but sometimes she could make it work.

It worked this time. Nameless, stripped of his ability to see where she was going to be, faltered and was driven back. Again, Moriko thought she could win. The point of her blade found his flesh before he could block. It wasn’t fatal, but it had to hurt. She moved like the night, invisible and deadly. She felt strong. There was no warning for what happened next.

Nameless exploded, his body and limbs a blur of speed. Moriko, invisible as she was to his sense, couldn’t move fast enough to defend herself. She blocked one cut after the other, barely getting his sword away from her body. Even with all her skills, it was everything she could do just to stay alive. She could sense his blows coming, but even with the sense, she wasn’t physically fast enough to block what was happening to her. She couldn’t believe it. The whole advantage of the sense was to know what your opponent would do before they acted. Nameless was just too fast.

Moriko’s defense could only last so long. Finally, she found herself out of position, and Nameless’ giant foot found her exposed stomach. Moriko tumbled backwards, rolling painfully back to her feet. She tried to stand up but doubled over in pain. She felt like her guts had been wrapped around her spine. Slowly, she struggled back up to standing. She had no hope of winning after a blow like that. Her body would never physically react quick enough.

Moriko’s eyes darted around, searching for some option, some escape. Nameless approached her, confident in his victory. Moriko didn’t see any escape, but she did see admiration in the eyes of the hunters. At least she’d made a show of her death. And she thought she’d been so close. She’d never expected he had such a reserve left. She considered her options. She could let him inside her guard, try to kill him after he’d gotten in his fatal blow. It was a technique Ryuu had taught her, the last technique he had learned from his master, Shigeru. Unfortunately, she didn’t think she’d be fast enough. With his speed, he’d have plenty of time to dodge or block.

She settled into her stance. If the outcome wasn’t in question, all that was left to do was all she could. With her ability to disguise her movements, attacking was the best defense. She darted forward with all the speed she had left. For a few passes it was even, but she couldn’t maintain her previous effort. Her attacks slowed, and finally she gave Nameless a moment of freedom. In that fraction of a moment, he switched onto the offensive, and Moriko was driven back, cut after cut appearing on her skin.

Anger swept over her. To have figured out so much of her powers, and to die at this man’s hands, was infuriating. She was as good as Ryuu, but it wasn’t good enough.

It was only a matter of time. She kept his blade mostly away from her, but she left herself open to his brutal fist, which sent her crashing down to the ground again. Before she could get up, his booted foot was in her stomach, kicking her up into the air and back into the ground. She dropped her sword as she slammed into the earth, choking on dust and blood.

He spoke loudly in Azarian. Moriko managed to open her eyes, just a squint through the pain, to see him pointing at her, gesticulating wildly. She cursed. There was some laughter as Nameless picked her up by her hair. Another solid punch sent her folded down onto the ground, every hint of air shoved violently out of her lungs.

Moriko reached out and grabbed her sword before his foot caught her again. She managed to hold on to it, but it was a meaningless victory. She didn’t have the speed or strength to use it. Moriko went deep inside herself as Nameless continued his beating. He had promised her a clean death, but it was forgotten in his passion to demonstrate the weakness of the Three Kingdoms.

Her mind flashed back to the monastery she had grown up in. There she had been whipped nearly to death. Her body would always bear the scars of that experience. This was worse. But inside herself, she tried to push away the pain. Her world was blackness and stars, and at the center was one small pinprick of light. The light that refused to give up, the light that burned wi

She couldn’t open her eyes, but her sense was alive and well. She was kicked around like a dog, finally falling near the edge of the circle. She could sense all eyes on her, the wind blowing through the tall grass, the horses about twenty paces away.

She stayed deep within, focusing on her desire to live. There couldn’t be any intention. Nothing that would give herself away. He came towards her. He was wary, but he couldn’t sense her. All his instincts, all his training, told him he was approaching a woman who might as well have been dead.

Inside, Moriko was focusing on her last piece of energy, the ember that wouldn’t die. She stoked it into a raging furnace, contained within the steel walls of her will.

Moriko sensed him step next to her and bring his foot back for the kick. In that moment, when his foot came back, and he was balanced precariously, she struck. She cut down with her sword from above her head. It was a fast strike that he just managed to dodge. Moriko had hoped to cut off a foot, but if she couldn’t, so be it. He was still off balance.

She twisted and lunged from her position on the ground, feeling her sword pierce the flesh of his stomach. Only then did she dare to open her eyes. It wasn’t necessarily a mortal wound, but it was deep. She pulled out her sword, twisting as she did.

What happened next happened fast. The hunters had been lax, sure of their leader’s victory. She broke out of the circle. It was only a matter of moments, but it gave her the lead on her captors. She ran to the horses, slicing through their ties with one stroke of her sword. She leapt on a horse, awkwardly got her feet into position, and kicked it into motion, yelling at the other horses as she did.