Volume 1: The Masacado Scrolls

Chapter One

The Toh warriors came from the south and the west, crushing the Minamoto and the Taira as they came, using the dark powers of Lord Yami to gain their victories.

One by one, the seven kingdoms of Kanto fell. Only the tiny fiefdom of Awa remained.

The Toh knew no stealth in their conquest. After resistance was weakened with sorcery and rites to call forth demons and withes and cause the earth’s great plates to grind together in madness, Toh warrior hordes crushed all.

Ryo’s eyes flew open. A sputtering hallway candle threw shadows and light on the white paper of the room’s shoji doors. A rumbling groan began in the bedrock below. Her gift of reikan sensed evil as the priests of Lord Yami, at the command of their Toh overlords, hurled dark forces from a lair beneath Mt. Osorezan, aiming at the colossal plates that supported the Boso Peninsula.

Turmoil throbbed in her bones.

She reached for her mother, but her small hand found only an empty sleeping mat. Ryo buried her head in her arms and tried to shut out the sound of the earth's ragged breath.

The ground rumbled. Malevolence weighed heavy on the air. Dawn grayed the room through the white paper coverings on the doors. The burnished plank flooring vibrated and shook. Shifting bedrock screamed. Ryo clapped her hands to her ears, and swayed back and forth on her pallet.

The rumble grew to a roar. The floor bucked, tossing Ryo into the air. A crockery cupboard crashed across the hallway. The great timbers of Nokogiriyama castle complained and shifted, their mortise-and-tenon joints coping with the temblor as they were designed to do.

For nearly sixty seconds, the earth shook. Then the dark power withdrew. The earth stilled. But despite terrible destruction throughout the kingdom of Awa, the 5-tiered Nokogiriyama castle survived.

Tsubomi rushed in just as Ryo slid open the wood-and-paper door across the tiny room.

Ryo-chan. Don’t go. The earth may quake again.

Okaa. Ryo used her pet name for mother. "Something’s wrong. Something besides the shaking of the earth. I know. I feel it inside. I can tell. The earth has shaken the castle many times, but this time is different. I must go to the ramparts. I must see what is happening. I must learn of these forces. I must."

Ryo slammed the door shut behind her and sped along the corridors of Nokogiriyama castle, running for the ramparts that overlooked the northern hills.

Guards strode the hallways, their confidence bringing order to the after-quake chaos. Never fear. Never fear. Nokogiriyama lives. Lord Masaharu lives, they shouted.

Ryo climbed the stairs, slipping between servants, warriors, shrine maidens and priests, moving always upwards toward the ramparts. The sun broke from the horizon as she hurried onto the overlook. She shaded her eyes against the sunrise and peered north toward the fortifications that protected the kingdom. Dark clouds gathered far beyond the Wall of Awa, throwing lightning bolts at the ground. A black line spread across the horizon. Gooseflesh swept up Ryo’s spine. She squinted, sharpening her vision. The black line in the sky bobbed toward Nokogiriyama, thickening as it came.

A clanging fire bell wrenched Ryo’s attention from the undulating black line. Smoke enveloped a third of the town and the onshore wind bore the acrid odor to the ramparts. Orange flames danced from dwelling to dwelling, devouring wood and paper. Villagers scurried like mice in a warren. Nothing they could do put out the fires. A rift in the earth ran from the castle gate piers across the moats and through the town. Most of the water had leaked from the moat, and enemy hordes could attack across the drying bottoms. Only the high stone walls protected Nokogiriyama castle now.

Ryo turned her eyes once more to the black line. Lightning cracked. She blinked. Her eyes teared. She swiped an impatient hand at her wet cheeks. And she smelled evil again. The dark line on the northern horizon thickened, wavered, and dissolved into flocks of ravens—one to the east, one to the west, and a third flying straight south toward Nokogiriyama.

The huge black birds wheeled and dove, harassing Awa warriors as they retreated toward the castle from the breached Wall of Awa. Ryo tasted hate in the ravens' screams. It seemed some evil force drove the carrion-eaters to attack the living.

Ryo trembled in fear. What would happen to her castle home? She liked Lord Masaharu, master of the castle. He was a good man. Honest. Beloved by the people of Awa. But Ryo could not sense enough power within the castle to counter the dark strength of the approaching enemy.

Fear drove Ryo down from the ramparts. She ran to the room she shared with her mother in the servants' quarters. Perhaps Tsubomi, Lord Masaharu’s favorite, could warn him of the dark danger, and perhaps the castle could be saved.

Okaa! Ryo slammed the sliding door aside and ran to her mother.

Ryo? Tsubomi looked up from the kimono she was sewing, her porcelain face serene.

Okaa. The Toh are coming. And they’re bringing something dark and evil. Black ravens fight for them. Even the land works for them. I’m frightened, Okaa. What shall we do? You must tell Lord Masaharu. You must . . . You . . . Ryo’s throat tightened. Her voice died away. She swallowed. We should leave, she managed to say. We should run away. We should, Okaa. Listen to me. Please listen.

Tsubomi laid the kimono down at her side. Her voice was quiet, patient. "Ryo. We cannot leave Lord Masaharu. He needs me and I shall be here for him as long as he lives. My destiny is entwined with his, as is yours. Although your powerful gift lets you read the winds, none can escape sadame."

Tears rolled down Ryo’s face. Her eyes overflowed. She sensed a terrible danger. She fought the panic, and bowed to her mother, accepting her decision.

Ryo could not bear to sit motionless. She fled the room. Her heart thumped and thumped, leaping from fear to love to dread and then to duty—above all, duty.

An aftershock shook the castle.

Ryo swayed with the movement, and felt the natural result of the preceding unnatural quake.

Tono! Tono! Kinoshita, captain of the castle guard, ran past Ryo and on down the corridor, his lacquered armor clacking with each stride. The scent of camellia, from the oil on his hair, wafted in his wake. Ryo crinkled her nose at the odor, then slipped along the corridor in the same direction as the captain.

Tono! The captain still shouted for Masaharu, his liege lord. Tono! The main gates, sire. We cannot close them!

Ryo stopped. The gates stood open. The Toh, with their ravens and their pikemen in the tens of thousands, could enter the castle grounds.

She heard the deep bonging of the bronze bell at Seikokuji Temple, bongs soon joined by higher-pitched clangs. Then a third temple bell added its warning voice. Danger closed in on Nokogiriyama castle. The ringing bells sounded like a death knell to Ryo.

Lord Masaharu strode up the corridor, armored warriors at his back.

Archers to the walls, he shouted.

Turning to Guard Captain Kinoshita, Masaharu said, The Wall of Awa is breached. Listen to the bells! They say the Toh armies will shortly come. Set the castle guard before the gates. Allow the men from Awa to enter, but none other. We will seal the gates with our lives.

Ryo scurried around in front of Masaharu and went down on her knees. Masaharu-sama, you must not go out to fight. You must escape with Lady Fujiko and the children. She bowed to the floor, begging her lord to listen.

The guard captain kicked her. She sprawled against the wall. Servant girl. Think not to tell the Lord of Awa what to do.

Ryo jumped up and bowed before Masaharu again.

My Lord, the people of Awa can bear anything, she cried, if they know that you are alive and can hope that you will lead them again.

Masaharu paused. Ryo held her breath. For a moment, the castle seemed almost silent. Then the cries of ravens invaded the walls, followed by a distant hum, a rumble, and then a faraway roar as the Toh hordes surged toward Masaharu’s stronghold.

"It is not the time for flight, Ryo-chan. A man must stand up to his destiny. Each man’s sadame is set the day he is born. Masaharu snaked his sword from its sharkskin scabbard and thrust the weapon out before him. My Hayabusa blade would drink of Toh blood, he declared, raising the burnished sword above his head. Let us meet this enemy steel to steel."

Ryo sucked in her breath. A fight to the death. If Masaharu died, who would lead Awa?

The warriors roared their promise to fight and die. Captain Kinoshita and his guard section took their positions around Lord Masaharu, and the master of the castle strode off toward the gate.

The Toh came in their tens of thousands. The people of Awa disappeared from their homes, taking to the hills and refusing aid to the invading army.

Ryo peeked through a loophole in the ramparts two tiers above the main gates. She watched the warriors of Awa. Bravely they fought, and bravely they withstood the hordes of Toh pikeman and their raven allies. The hours stretched into days. Corpses piled up before the gates and black birds fell like hail as Awa arrows found their marks. The onshore wind scattered black feathers before it, but new flocks of ravens arrived from across the Uraga straits. The ground drank the blood of man and beast and bird and became slippery with gore. Ryo felt a faint dark force beneath the Toh assault as their numberless hordes pressed toward the open castle gates.

Ryo left her vantage point at night, when the minions of the Toh withdrew and the Funin, the outcast non-people, were allowed to carry the slain from before the gates of Nokogiriyama castle. Black smears that had been ravens were left to molder, their feathers loosening and drifting about like dark ghosts wandering the netherworld.

Five nights passed. Each night, Masaharu called for Tsubomi. Each night, Ryo watched her mother leave to serve the master of the castle. She awoke when Tsubomi returned from assuaging the battle-fed hungers of the Lord of Awa.

Okaa, Ryo whispered. Lord Masaharu has other women to serve him. Why must you go every night?

My lord contends with our enemies all day, Tsubomi said. At night he needs strong hands to help him relax. And he must find sweet release. Only a skilled and pliant woman can help Lord Masaharu do that. You should be happy he chooses your mother. Lesser men would shout for virgins or young boys.

Tsubomi slipped into her cotton night kimono. Go to sleep, she said. Tomorrow the men of Awa will battle the Toh again.

During the night, Ryo felt movement so light as to be almost no movement at all. She searched with her reikan gift, but found only slight spots of nothingness. All night, she stared toward the ceiling, and when the dawn crept through the paper door panels, she saw two Kage mercenaries waiting motionless in the gloom; black-robed mercenaries who hid their faces behind masks of iron; men schooled in the arts of stealth and magic, who could climb walls like spiders and disappear in puffs of smoke. Kage were of the Sanka, a race much more ancient than the Toh of Fujiwara or the Taira of Awa. When Ryo raised her eyebrows in question, one Kage inclined his head in greeting.

Tsubomi awoke and went about her morning toilet as if the Kage were not there. Ryo followed her mother’s example. They dressed, they washed and combed, and they waited. A third Kage appeared at the door of the tiny room and beckoned Tsubomi and Ryo to follow. He said nothing, and Ryo, for once silent, trailed after her mother. The two Kage in the room disappeared. The castle shuddered and groaned, and Ryo caught a slight scent of dark power.

The Kage herded the survivors in Nokogiriyama castle into the Place of Horses, a broad courtyard covered with gray gravel, and Tsubomi, Ryo, and the other servants were forced to their knees before the north wall, facing the castle. Masaharu’s counselors and warrior chiefs lined the other side of the Place of Horses, their wives and children behind them.

A Toh chieftain and his retinue had set up court by the donjon door. Forbidding ranks of Kage lined the courtyard, backs against the walls and weapons to hand. All wore black. Cast-iron half masks, with grimacing mouths topped by horsehair moustaches and flaring noses covered their faces. Above the masks, their black eyes glittered.

Ravens perched by thousands upon the walls, the roof crests, and the parapets. To a bird, their eyes fastened on the three tatami mats positioned before the donjon.

A great drum boomed. The castle doors opened. Masaharu, Fujiko, two concubines, and five children emerged, all dressed in immaculate white, the color of death. Ryo gasped.

Masaharu, Lord of Awa, strode to the center of the tatami mats, folded his legs, and sat. Fujiko knelt behind him with her two sons, the concubines and their children on her right and left.

Servants and retainers bowed on their knees, hands on the graveled ground and eyes on their hands. They refused to witness their lord take his own life, but Ryo could not help but watch from beneath her brows.

Silence filled the Place of Horses as the ceremony began. A Toh swordsman raised his weapon. With quiet reverence, Masaharu lifted a polished blade from a wooden pedestal to his left and wrapped it in a sheet of pure white paper. Its razor-sharp tip protruded, catching light.

Masaharu thrust his arms through the front fold of his kimono and flung it from his shoulders, baring his torso to the waist. Gripping the blade in his right fist, he took a deep breath and shoved the tip into his abdominal sac.

Ryo bit off a tiny scream. Unbidden, tears filled her eyes. She blinked to clear her vision.

Masaharu drew the blade across his abdomen. His steaming bowels tumbled from the cut. The Toh sword swooped, severing Masaharu’s head from his body. Blood spurted from the neck stump, showering the Toh warrior and staining the gray gravel of the Place of Horses.

As Masaharu died, Fujiko and the concubines pulled knives from the folds of their kimono and cut the throats of their own children. Their gruesome duty done, the women fell upon their blades.

To Ryo, the ravens seemed to nod in approval. She sent her burning anger flying at a single black bird on a castle cornice. The raven lost its balance for an instant, then flew away in confusion.

As the pool of blood widened around Lord Masaharu and his family, the Lord’s loyal counselors and warrior chieftains turned on their own families and put them to the sword. Each knelt and committed harakiri. Taira leaders were no more.

Above, a hayabusa hawk circled, screaming defiance.

The servants remained on their knees, heads bowed and hands flat against the ground. Ryo’s tears blackened the gray gravel between her hands. "It is sadame, little one, our fate" Tsubomi said, her voice pitched for Ryo’s ears alone.

A Toh chieftain of Fujiwara nobility, clad in moss-green silken robes, stood before the castle donjon. Under a tall lacquered hat, his visage was white with rice powder, and his bottom lip bore a single point of vermilion. His eyebrows were shaved in the manner of the Imperial court, while his eyes were mere slits—Toh nobles plucked every lash from their eyelids.

Behold, the noble cried, his voice carrying beyond the moats of Nokogiriyama castle. Behold, the outlander Masaharu is no more. All who bear the name of Taira are dead. Hear ye. Hear ye. I am Yoshikatsu, Toh by right of birth. The Kingdom of Awa is mine.

Ryo’s tears wouldn’t dry. Her lord and her home were forever gone. The terrible power that brought this calamity upon the people of Awa sucked at her soul. Its virulence sapped her strength.

Raucous cries from the ravens invaded her consciousness. Vibrations of black intent rippled into Ryo’s mind, coming through the earth from the main approach to the castle. A darker evil was on its way. For a moment, Ryo thought to run, to escape the overpowering darkness. But Tsubomi’s quiet voice came again. "Sadame, my child. Do not think lightly of your fate."

A phalanx of Yotsu horsemen entered the main gate, scattering Funin non-people. Horses carried a palanquin screened in black silk and trimmed in blood red. The noble called Yoshikatsu was down on one knee.

From the palanquin emerged a figure dressed in the dark red of dried blood. Its face was covered with a thin black silken scarf. Yoshikatsu scuttled backwards to the wall. The red figure turned to face the Place of Horses.

People of Awa, hearken to my voice. The sound echoed from deep inside the figure’s chest, almost as if it were speaking without a throat. I am Michizane. Long did your lord, the dead Masaharu, defy me. Long we fought. Today he went down in irrevocable defeat. His precious Awa is mine. The Toh, those he hated so dearly, rule. Yoshikatsu stands in my stead.

Ryo shuddered at the dark force emanating from the figure. She could tell it dealt with Lord Yami, the king of the netherworld. She knew it had no soul.

Michizane. Hear ye me! The cry came from the topmost tier of the castle pagoda. Every eye leaped to the heights, where stood a woman dressed in blinding white—not the white of death, but the brilliant white of living light.

"Rest ye not easy, Michizane. For of the rocks shall come swords and spears, of the waters shall come ghosts and spirits, and of the winds shall come dreams and visions. They shall strike you and pierce you, even to the center of your being. Hear if ye have ears. Listen if ye have a soul. For the chosen of Amaterasu shall come. Dark is the mirror of your sadame. And great shall be your wails and laments in that day!"

A feeling of tranquility came over Ryo. The blood of the Taira had cried from the ground to their patron god Amaterasu, and she heard their pleas and would answer their supplications.

Michizane screamed at the woman in white. You shall die! He waved to the Kage. Seize that woman.

The Kage did not move.

A puff of smoke drifted on the breeze followed by a dull boom. When it cleared, the woman was gone.

Never you mind, cried Michizane. An old crone, no doubt. The Taira lie dead in this courtyard. He turned to the Toh noble. Yoshikatsu. Rule Awa well. For I watch.

Michizane motioned to the Yotsu guardsmen and entered the palanquin. The horsemen and their master left in a thunder of iron-shod hooves. Perhaps the woman in white troubled the malevolent man more than he wished to admit. But Ryo was glad the overpowering sense of darkness abated with Michizane’s departure.

A rumble of voices arose at the gate. The Funin non-people were anxious to begin their work.

Let them in, roared Yoshikatsu.

Toh guards fell back and the Funin rushed forward, knives