Nightblade (36 page)

Moriko was thankful for being accepted back into the community, even if the weakness of the monks angered her. The loneliness of isolation was difficult to bear, and she accepted whatever small inroads of peace were offered to her. She wasn’t one of them yet, but every interaction helped.

She didn't know how to proceed. It was clear Aina's trust in her was waning as Goro's training continued unabated. Moriko did everything she could to ease the wounds and the pain, but the girl was coming to the conclusion that Moriko wouldn't actively oppose Goro. In the little girl’s mind Moriko was part of the problem, not a part of the solution.

It pained Moriko to think Aina might be right. She hadn't done anything to help the girl besides small, meaningless gestures.

Moriko's dam of emotions finally broke one afternoon in the courtyard. Try as she might, she couldn't always avoid Goro's lessons. It was a cold afternoon, and a thin layer of snow had fallen the night before. Moriko had been off the monastery's premises hunting, a new privilege which she used to her greatest advantage. She came back with a number of small hares, satisfied with her hunt.

She sensed the two of them in the courtyard. Goro was attempting to train Aina in some sword techniques, but to the uneducated observer it probably looked more like he was beating a girl with a stick.

Goro's eyes widened a fraction when he saw Moriko. She had become used to walking everywhere masking herself, but Goro hadn't gotten used to not being able to sense somebody around him. She understood the disorientation. Her first memories of Orochi would never fade.

Goro's shock faded, and he flashed her a malicious grin. He ordered Aina to block his strike. She got into an appropriate position, one any child of her age and training should have been congratulated on. Moriko was surprised to sense Goro's move. He was going to move fast to strike.

The cut wasn’t a surprise to Moriko, but Aina had no chance to see it coming. It was a low cut which caught her underneath the rib cage, and she doubled down to the ground, face buried in the snow.

"Block the strike!" Goro shouted.

Moriko was having a tough time trusting her sense, but it all came true. Goro kicked the girl hard in the side she hadn't been struck in. She went tumbling backwards.

Goro spun the wooden blade in his right hand. Moriko couldn’t believe, wouldn’t believe what was happening in front of her. Although it was too early to sense his intent, her eyes told her more than enough. He would continue beating this girl as long as Moriko was watching.

Moriko wasn’t the only one surprised. The other monks saw and sensed what was going on, but no one lifted a finger. No one said a word.

The trickle of anger exploded into a torrent of rage. She knew that taking action was falling right into the Abbot's trap, but she would no longer sit by for her own self preservation. Damn the consequences. If today was the day, so be it.

Goro raised his blade above his head in an attempt to strike Aina, but Moriko reached him first and held the wooden tip of the blade behind him, preventing him from making his cut.

Goro whirled around in anger and surprise. He hadn’t sensed Moriko coming and the fury on his face was evident. His spin brought the blade with it, but Moriko was easily able to step to the side.

The two faced each other. Moriko contained herself, the fire in her belly threatening to consume her whole. But if Orochi had taught her nothing else, he had taught her control. It barely held, strained to the limit, but it held.

With anger in every word, Moriko whispered to Goro, "Don't ever touch the girl again."

Moriko was about to turn around, but Goro's pride wouldn't let him stay silent. "You've gone too far this time, Moriko. The Abbot will hear about this!"

It was too much. Moriko couldn't stand the sycophant anymore. She turned on him and grabbed him by his robes. He was taller than her, but she pulled his face down right next to hers. "You will keep your mouth shut. I am stronger than you, and will kill you without hesitation, before you even get a step closer to the Abbot's quarters. You will treat this girl the way you would any other monk."

Moriko turned away. She knew if she continued to talk she would strike him down.

She sensed his strike and sidestepped it. He moved in again to strike, and Moriko stepped into him. She grabbed his wrist and twisted it, disarming him while throwing him down. He rolled to his feet and drew his real blade. A silence descended in the courtyard. No one drew blades, not in the monastery.

Moriko held on to the wooden blade. Her blade was by her, as always, but she hoped that by fighting with the wooden one she wouldn't kill him. She wasn't too worried about Goro hitting her. She could sense each of his moves far in advance, and he couldn’t use his own sense to try to block her.

Goro took two cuts. Moriko deflected one and dodged the other. His third cut was a little too hopeful, and he leaned forward slightly following his cut. Moriko used the opening and stepped in with a clean strike to the back of Goro's skull.

Goro tumbled to the ground. It took him a couple of breaths to get back up, but when he did, Moriko could see that he intended to finish it here. He attacked with an energy that sent Moriko back pedaling. She wasn't ready, and with the wooden sword she could only deflect his cuts. She didn't risk a full block for fear of the wood breaking.

Fear and anger started to get the best of her. It was too easy to make a mistake in this situation. She wasn't in control. She tried getting further away from him, but his rage drove him straight into her despite her best efforts.

Goro's blade cut straight into the wooden sword, slicing it in half, leaving a sharpened point where a gentle curve had been. Moriko's conscious mind was no longer in control, just the instincts trained into her over countless cycles. She felt the opening as he came up to strike and drove the wooden sword into his gut, fear and frustration causing her to shove him back as hard as she could.

He fell back to the ground and Moriko could see she had opened a gaping hole in his stomach. It looked like an intestine was trying to leak out, and Moriko knew that Goro was a walking dead man.

Goro hadn’t figured it out yet, and that made it worse. She had never killed before, and this was a slow and torturous death. The mask of Goro dropped, and he became the little boy desperate for attention, not sure what was happening to him. He was trying to put the intestines back into his stomach, asking for the Abbot to come and help. A tear rolled down Moriko's cheek. Goro hadn't been an evil man, he had just been pathetic, without the strength to stand on his own.

Goro was nothing but a puppet and didn't deserve a slow death like this. She bent down and cradled his head while pulling out her short blade. She bowed her head in prayer and in a strong clear voice recited the final prayer for the monk who had stolen her from her family.

Goro stopped his blubbering and was looking up at her serenely. He seemed at peace, which was enough for Moriko. She tilted his head back and thrust the blade in under his chin, a quick and painless death.

Moriko saw the moment his soul left his body when the light behind his eyes went out. She had seen death before, but never so close. It sent a shock down her spine, threatening to root her in place.

She looked up and saw a cluster of monks around her. She recognized all of them and knew many of them had come up to her over the past moon to talk about Goro's behavior. As her eyes scanned the crowd she could see one or two monks slowly nodding to her. Perhaps not condoning the act, but at least accepting it as necessary.

She focused on the moment, just as Orochi had taught her. The Abbot was present, but in the heat of the battle she had lost track of her surroundings. The Abbot was the root of all of this. It began and ended with him.

The Abbot was in his quarters, aware of everything that was happening but not moving. He was waiting for her.

Moriko debated. She could call today complete and wait to see what type of justice came to her. On the other hand, delaying could give the Abbot time to bring everyone at the monastery to his side, reminding them of justice and the rules of the monastery. She had killed one of their own, which was punishable by death, but most of the monks were aware of the extenuating circumstances.

Moriko decided to trust in fate. She had rolled the dice by killing Goro, and now she needed to see where they landed. She didn't want to fight the Abbot one-on-one. She wanted him out in public, in front of everyone.

"Abbot!" she yelled at the top of her lungs.

For several breaths there was no movement, but in time Moriko felt the Abbot stir. He released his power, and he burned almost as bright as the sun in the sky. Moriko was prepared. Orochi had taught her how to control herself so the sense of him wouldn't blind her. She focused on Orochi's instructions and stood her ground.

The Abbot came out of his quarters, dressed in the loose fitting robes of the monastery. He walked towards the gathered crowd and paused about a dozen paces away from them. He observed the expressions of the monks, Moriko's stance, and Goro's red blood on the white snow. Moriko could see him taking it all in, calculating his next move. Moriko tried to take it away from him. She knew he hadn't become Abbot because of his strength alone.

"I have killed Goro, sir. I offered advice on his training methods and he struck at me. I disarmed him and he drew his real blade. In the midst of trying to defend myself, I executed a lethal blow. Any of the monks here can attest to the truth of these events."

The Abbot brushed her story aside. "You have killed a monk, and this is punishable by death. Do you wish to take your own life, or shall I do it for you?"

Moriko didn't stoop to his line of thinking. "This incident came about due to Goro's training methods. Methods you knew well about, yet allowed to continue. I attempted to remind Goro the methods of the monastery are as old as this Kingdom and needed to be honored. He attacked me. I defended myself. You foresaw this and yet did nothing to stop it."

The Abbot didn't try to defend himself. He looked among the assembled monks and saw they recognized the truth of Moriko's claim. A malicious impulse twisted the corner of his mouth into a smile.

"I see there are many here who agree with this girl's claims. My answer is thus: I am the power here, with knowledge and understanding which surpasses your own. My path may not be understood by all, but it is the path we must follow, or be lost forever. If any of you disagree, then step forward now!"

At the conclusion of his speech the Abbot let forth a sense-blast like Moriko had never experienced before. Every monk in the courtyard fell to their knees, overpowered by the force of energy emanating from the Abbot.

Moriko just barely stood her ground. Orochi's training had been effective, but she'd never had any practice, just the theory of it. Her first encounter with the Abbot's power was still enough to disorient her.

The Abbot moved in, blade in hand. Moriko fought, but her sense was overpowered by the sheer energy radiating from the Abbot. She was forced to fight by sight alone, and while she was well trained, the Abbot was in charge of the fight.

Moriko fought against overwhelming waves of helplessness. This battle was for her own life, but she couldn't focus enough to take control. She was left blocking by reflex the movements of the Abbot's blade, and she knew it would only be moments before the strategy failed.

She succeeded in putting some distance between her and the Abbot, and they each took a moment to appraise each other. The Abbot was still confident in his powers and had good reason to be. She hadn't done anything against him.

Moriko took a breath and focused herself. The Abbot's power was blinding, but she knew it could be worked around. She pushed the sense out of her mind, focusing on the present moment, dropping into a waiting stance. The Abbot didn't give her long to wait.

He sprinted forward, confident in his position. Moriko moved out of the way and cut at him. It was a hesitant cut, and the Abbot was able to deflect it, it had been a true counter attack. Moriko wasn't as helpless as she seemed. He gathered himself, and they began in earnest.

In three moves Moriko found an opening and struck, cutting deep into the Abbot's left arm. It wasn't a fatal cut, but it was painful, and the Abbot hadn't been cut in a very long time. He howled with rage and frustration, and without warning the full power of his energy struck Moriko.

She had thought she had seen everything the Abbot could do, but she had never seen him in a true rage. The waves of energy she had been able to push aside redoubled and filled her mind with fire. The other monks, already prostate on the ground, groaned and started having seizures. It took all her focus just to remain standing. She tried to advance, to step forward, to end it all, but it was hopeless. She couldn't
think
well enough to move.

The Abbot stepped near her, and with one move brought the hilt of his sword down hard on her head. Moriko's world, which had been filled with light and energy, abruptly went dark.

She was surprised when she awoke. She hadn't expected to be alive at all, but a small part of her knew being alive wasn't necessarily a good thing. Her belief was reinforced as she took a mental inventory of her body.

Overall, she wasn't in too bad of shape. Her head felt like it was ready to split open any moment, like her mind was too large for the skull it inhabited. But that wasn't going away anytime soon, so she'd have to deal with that.

One leather strap had been tied tightly in her mouth, gagging her. Her arms were tied behind her, tight enough she couldn’t move at all. Not just her wrists either, but they had also tied her elbows close together. She tried flexing her muscles, but was completely incapacitated by the leather straps. The Abbot wasn't taking any chances. He knew she was stronger than before. Likewise, her legs had been tied both at the ankles and above the knees. Bearing the pain of looking down, she saw that the straps around her ankles were tied to a ring on the monastery wall.