The Twilight War (7 page)

They were alive, all of them. Somehow! Moonshadow rubbed his eyes and looked around.

Cleaned up, stitched and bandaged now, the Edo members of the Grey Light Order sat in a circle on the tatami floor, bone-tired and a little subdued. All rested in the seiza position, legs folded, sitting on their heels. The air around them was thick with the odours of healing salves and cramp oils. Moonshadow was flanked by Groundspider and Badger. Opposite them, Eagle, half-slumped in a nest of blankets, rested against the wall. Mantis sat at Eagle's right hand, Heron at his left. Eagle looked terrible.

The small, dark conference room, located just off the archives, had been untouched by the raid. So little was it used that dust particles – rarely seen in the almost spotless monastery – danced in the orange sunset light that angled through the parted shoji doors.

The room was rectangular, its wood-panelled walls hung with a series of foreign tapestries. Each wide rug depicted either a castle or warship from Europe. The tapestries were, somewhat famously, a gift to Badger from the Shogun, in gratitude for Latin lessons. Badger had first introduced these prizes to the rest of them as ‘marvellous, modern alien art,' adding excitedly, ‘imagine what else we can learn from these people!'

Now Moonshadow frowned at the piece
hanging directly above Eagle, Mantis and Heron. It featured the intricate depiction of an enormous foreign ship that Badger called a
galleon
. Its masts and sails looked garishly big. Its sweeping black sides bristled impossibly with rows and rows of massive cannons. Surely that scale – and the sheer number of weapons shown – were just some artist's fiction? A shiver passed through Moonshadow along with a premonition of dread.

He blinked slowly, his sleep-hungry mind drifting …

Distant hammering snapped him back to the present. Moonshadow looked up. The Order's industrious repair teams had resumed work on the holes in the roof, hurriedly nailing planks over each blast site before the next summer shower could hit.

The rainproofing squads were made up of the surviving household staff and boundary guards, the same loyal servants who had fought the fires … with a little help from whichever kind
kami
sent that timely downpour. Their tireless support had continued even after that danger passed: staunching wounds while waiting for the doctor, then applying healing salves or brewing tonics under his and Heron's supervision. They'd even helped the injured to the bathhouse and back. Moonshadow nodded with admiration.

Seeing his face, Mantis grinned. ‘Hand-picked,
Moon-kun, every one of them. That's why they're so steadfast. Our head steward was once my cousin's manservant. I've known him twenty years.' He nodded around the sitting circle. ‘It was the Shogun's idea for each of us to recruit staff we already knew. He felt it would ensure unwavering back-up in an emergency – which it certainly has – and help guard us against infiltrators.'

To Moonshadow's left, Groundspider sighed. ‘One out of two then,' he mumbled.

Mantis, who was chairing the meeting on behalf of Eagle, cleared his throat. ‘Come on, Groundspider, I know that look. Let's hear it.'

The big shinobi hung his head, scratching the back of his neck. ‘Well, the Shogun was right about the support staff. They gave us amazing back-up and they're still at it. But the second bit, guarding against infiltration … good staff or not,
we
messed that up!'

‘And I thought,' Mantis said shrewdly, ‘that you were just about to say
thank the gods our bathhouse wasn't blown up
.' He looked round the circle of increasingly tense faces, finally to Moonshadow. ‘I've offered rice grains and sake in gratitude for that!'

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Moonshadow chewed his bottom lip. True, that beloved volcanic bath had washed away the smoke-grime, sweat and blood, and brought
much-needed relief to their aching limbs. But its luxury was the last thing on everybody's mind right now and Moonshadow knew it.

He took a deep breath. Might as well get this over with!

‘If Snowhawk
was
a double agent all along, a Fuma infiltrator …' Moonshadow closed his eyes. ‘Then I am to blame. I brought her in, trusted her, vouched for her.'

‘True, I guess.' Groundspider nodded. ‘But we all know girls make boys crazy –'

Heron's eyebrows fell. She gave a short, sharp cough. Groundspider flinched.

‘Moon-kun, Spider-kun, that's all goldfish dung,' Eagle murmured, flashing pin-prick eyes. ‘We, your seniors, let her in. And trusted her. I'm in charge here, so any failure in judgment is
mine
.' He wheezed then sank back into his wrapping of blankets.

‘Her treachery is still unproven,' Heron said quietly. ‘Though, what I
saw
…'

‘And what I
felt
, sparring with her last night –' Groundspider put in quickly. Everyone stared at him. ‘Heron? Didn't she tell you about it? She promised she would!' Groundspider recounted the strange training incident, describing Snowhawk's angry glare, then the shortness of breath and dizziness that had briefly struck him. ‘Moonshadow saw it too! Obviously, she's been holding out on
us, but in the middle of training, her Fuma mask just slipped! Why else conveniently forget to tell Heron?'

‘Conveniently?' Moonshadow gave a mocking laugh. ‘Yes, how suspicious! She let herself get sidetracked by little things like explosions, fires and invading enemies!' He appealed directly to Mantis. ‘Had we not been attacked, I'm sure she would have raised it with Heron.' He held up his hands. ‘Even she didn't know what
it
actually was!'

‘Though undoubtedly important, this is all inconclusive.' Mantis folded his arms. ‘Let's hear Heron's account. Having asked each of you individually, my understanding is that only Heron enjoyed a continuous, unbroken view of Snowhawk's last movements.'

Moonshadow narrowed his eyes. He had lain much closer to Snowhawk than Heron had stood, but what he had seen remained confusing. She
might
have been hypnotised, yet he couldn't say that for sure. When questioned by Mantis he had chosen to keep those final observations to himself, simply out of fear.

Fear that if he appeared biased towards Snowhawk, Mantis would question his own loyalty or at least his judgement. Fear also that bringing up hypnotic powers might actually cast his friend in an even worse light. Groundspider
would be straight in there with the obvious, ugly question: since
Snowy
, he'd say, can hypnotise others, wouldn't she herself be immune to such skills? Then surely, he would argue, she left by
choice
. Groundspider often jumped to somewhat rash conclusions. Snowhawk was no infiltrator! Moonshadow's every instinct shouted that, and he would prove it
somehow
.

He furtively glanced around the solemn group. No, he couldn't risk telling them what he had seen, not until he
knew
what it meant. His stomach churned as he relived that bizarre moment: her face twitching with something like confusion, then the odd recognition in her eyes. What exactly had that ninja said?

Heron spoke thoughtfully. ‘I don't know what to make of it. The Fuma are notorious for dark sciences that baffle the brain, but this didn't look like any hypnosis or mind-snare I've ever seen. A kunoichi went up to Snowhawk, spoke to her at length, then Snowhawk, with her eyes open, simply dropped her sword and followed the woman. They joined a huddle of Fuma who leapt, one by one, up into a hole blown in a corner of the archive's ceiling. While this was going on, Brother Eagle was on the floor, Moon-kun knocked out also, Brother Badger in hiding. I think
you two
,' she gestured from Mantis to Groundspider, ‘were each taking down your last opponent.'

Mantis tugged at his short beard. ‘Well, there it is. Any comments?'

Badger stared dejectedly at the sunlit dust whirling above the tatami. ‘It's never bothered me that I am the only one here with no martial virtues … until this morning!'

Eagle opened one eye. ‘That's foolish, Hosokawa.' He spoke slowly, with pained determination. ‘So you're no warrior. Well I'm no scholar. Our lord needs both, equally.'

While Badger acknowledged the gentle rebuke with a nod, Moonshadow concealed his shock. Brother Eagle never called anyone by their pre-Order name! Though Badger was indeed once the great writer and teacher Hosokawa, Eagle would hardly address him as such nowadays. Moonshadow clenched a fist. It had to be the slow-acting poison, striking at Eagle's mind! What else could explain his muddled reference to serving a lord, a daimyo, instead of their real and far mightier master?

Mantis was also thinking of the Shogun. ‘At sunrise I despatched a message boy to the castle carrying a detailed report of the raid: our damage, losses and, of course, a proposed response … which Brother Eagle and I have already discussed.'

‘Surely we
are
striking back?' Groundspider looked for support. He was ignored.

‘We have a system,' Mantis pressed on. ‘If the Shogun sends no orders of his own by nightfall,
it means he wishes to leave this matter to us, and we can then execute our plan. Since this attack might be part of a larger, coordinated Fuma strategy, my message to him included a request to alert all our rural bases by carrier pigeons. If we do end up running
our
plan, Brother Eagle asked that a special message be flown to one particular base along the Fuma's homeward route. That conditional request is also in my report.'

‘
If
we end up running our plan?' Heron asked. ‘Surely we will? Darkness is virtually upon us, and no rider has come from the castle.'

‘Knowing our Shogun personally,' Badger said, ‘I predict he'll send replacement security men and extra carpenters, but let
us
deal with the Fuma just as we see fit.'

Mantis nodded warmly at their stricken leader. ‘So Brother Eagle believes.'

Heron pointed to the narrowing beam of orange light coming through the window. ‘See … and no rider.' She turned, locking eyes with Mantis. ‘So how
will
we deal with them? I'm not even sure I know what just happened! Did they really raid us to launch their Twilight War? Was retaking Snowhawk mere opportunism, since they were coming here to attack us anyway? Or was she actually the focus of the whole, costly raid? I feel like we're missing something important!'

‘I too have questions,' Mantis nodded. ‘Apart
from those leading each wave, the Fuma we battled were generally second-rate fighters. Look at how many we felled! Why didn't they send in a uniformly elite force? How could they underestimate us so badly?'

‘With all due respect,' Badger muttered, ‘I say they didn't. The Fuma have never thought like either samurai or the other shinobi clans. Their history shows a consistent willingness to sacrifice their juniors, their mediocre agents, even their clients – sometimes in numbers, as we have just experienced – so long as it achieves their goals.'

‘What then, was their goal this time?' Heron inclined her head. ‘How does Snowhawk fit in with it?' She looked around earnestly. ‘Maybe she was
blackmailed
.'

‘I don't see how
that
could work.' Groundspider snorted. ‘Moon here said she started out like us, an orphan, so it's not like there's a family to threaten.'

‘Hmm,' Badger frowned. ‘Their leader, Fuma Kotaro, is a real old fox. If he –'

‘Enough. Enough guessing,' Eagle said wearily. ‘Let me speak … while I still can.'

Helped by Mantis and Heron, Eagle strained forward and up into a dignified, straight-backed seated position. A twitch of muscle in his cheek betrayed Eagle's tightly clenched teeth. He drew in a long, slow breath as he forced his eyes wide. Finally, smothering a sigh of pain, Eagle put his shoulders back and looked around the group. Somehow, he was again magnificent.

Moonshadow's eyes grew hot. Eagle's determination was utterly heartrending. Despite his appalling condition, the master was rallying the last of his ki so he could put their house in order before the poison addled him totally.

‘Our foes in this matter appear to be Clan Fuma,' Eagle said carefully. ‘I believe them to be merely the sword and Moonshadow's old admirer, Lord Silver Wolf, the hand wielding it. All of you, beware his schemes more than ever, now that we're off balance.'

‘With all diligence, master.' Mantis bowed his head. ‘And as to that sword –'

‘Ah yes, my orders.' Eagle's hands began to shake. He quickly hid them in his jacket, then scanned the group imperiously. ‘I … I have already given Brother Mantis the details, but here is the short version: a two-man team will be sent after Snowhawk.'

‘Yes!' Moonshadow and Groundspider blurted in unison. Moonshadow glanced at his colleague,
only too aware that they hadn't reacted for the same reason. He was instantly seeing a rescue; Groundspider, no doubt, a darker, more final outcome. Eagle's next words confirmed his thoughts, bringing both points of view out into the open.

‘Agent Snowhawk,' Eagle said firmly, ‘is to be tracked, located and appraised. Clearly, we cannot just sit back and let the Fuma have her. If she
is
loyal and was snatched using some wicked magic, then she must be rescued before the Fuma can prise training secrets and mission knowledge from her. If, however, she was an infiltrator all along, then action must still be taken before she
willingly
hands them our innards.'

Action must be taken? Moonshadow frowned. Just what Groundspider hoped for!

The light in Eagle's eyes grew dimmer. Squeezing Mantis's shoulder, he glanced around the circle. ‘Brothers Mantis and Badger will explain the rest.' Eagle turned his head and stared into the former duellist's eyes. ‘Mantis, my friend, I pass the mantle of my authority. The Grey Light Order is yours now.' His voice thinned. ‘
Protect them
.'

Eagle's eyes closed. He crumpled on the spot, head sagging to his chest. Heron gasped. Moonshadow shuddered. While Mantis held Eagle's head up, Heron leapt to her feet, hurried to the door and called to the household staff busily cleaning up the archives.

A bald, hunched old man and a pretty middle-aged woman entered the room, each carrying a freshly lit paper lantern. They set them down before gently lifting Eagle.

‘Make up a soft sick bed for him in the corner of my workroom,' Heron ordered.

The servants bowed low to her then carried Eagle away with great care, leaving a lantern in the centre of the tatami to illuminate the darkening room. Every eye tracked Eagle's departure sorrowfully. The door slid shut and for the longest moment, nobody could speak. Moonshadow stole a glance at Heron. Her eyes were closed. One hand covered the lowest third of her face. Beneath it, her chin was twitching.

He hung his head, drew in the pungent, fatty odour of the lantern's oil and tried to calm his own racing thoughts. So many questions! Was Eagle going to die? If they found Snowhawk, exactly how could her loyalty – or otherwise – be established?

‘We weighed this plan from all angles,' Mantis said. ‘At my insistence, we even debated the karma, good and bad, that might flow from each of the possible outcomes.'

As Moonshadow looked up, Brother Mantis raised a hand and pointed at him.

‘You and Groundspider will be the two-man team. As the senior, Groundspider is the
designated leader. Brother Badger intends to equip you both this evening. You're then to rest until just before dawn tomorrow, when you must steal horses and set out in the dark. Travel in disguise. Intercept and ambush the Fuma on their journey home.'

‘Shouldn't we leave right now?' Moonshadow blurted. ‘They already have a huge lead on us.'

Mantis wagged his shaven head. ‘That's true, but think about it,' he said patiently. ‘Their raiding party was sizeable and even its survivors number quite a few, so they have no choice but to travel on foot. No matter how good their disguises.'

‘Why?' Groundspider's face twisted as he tried to figure out what Mantis meant.

‘Of course.' Heron almost smiled. ‘Any group of non-samurai with so many horses would quickly attract official attention out on the road. Checkpoint barriers aside, any wandering public service samurai might demand to see their travel papers. Inspectors usually report every big group they sight anyway, because despite our new peace, distrust between fiefdoms remains high. The Fuma know all this too, so
would
egress on foot.'

‘Let's suppose,' Mantis nodded, ‘that they break into a forced march as they hit the mountains. I calculate that you'll still catch them before they can make Fumayama.'

‘I get it!' Groundspider leered. ‘Hmm … they'll be exhausted, with many wounded among them.'
He clicked his tongue anxiously. ‘But Mant– I mean,
master
, with all due respect, what if they break into a
run
up there? What if we just
don't
catch them in time?'

‘Then you must pursue them – and Snowhawk – into their lair. At least, if it comes to that, you won't be going in blind or helplessly visible. Thanks to Brother Badger.'

Groundspider and Moonshadow exchanged looks, then both rounded on Badger.

The archivist thatched his fingers together and smiled with a faintly superior air. ‘Yes, yes, I have mission-specific gear for you. Ashiko foot spikes, in case ice-crossings are required. And two sets of the latest Grey Light Order stealth suits, developed only recently, still awaiting field trials. They're tough, warm, and dyed in earth-tones, with colour-matching leg armour and lightweight, fish scale-style gauntlets.'

Groundspider's face wrinkled with scepticism. ‘But will they make us invisible?'

‘Rock-coloured suits and armour? No.' Badger sighed triumphantly. ‘But my latest camouflage invention has
that
problem covered! Your suits come with the device already fitted, ready to deploy. I call it the ninja rock-trick cloak!' He raised his chin.

‘Strong name.' Groundspider blinked. ‘And … just what does it do?'

Mantis waved a hand. ‘Badger will demonstrate the invention before you leave. Remember, if you catch the Fuma in the open, you won't need any of this equipment.'

‘Don't worry,' Badger put in helpfully, ‘it may all be new, but it should work.'

Groundspider spluttered. ‘Should? Did you just say
should?
Well if it doesn't, and I lose my large head, brace yourself for years of creepy noises in those archives!'

‘Creepy farting noises,' Moonshadow clarified.

‘By all the gods!' the archivist snapped. ‘It
will
work, does that make you happy?'

‘No, not really, but what choice –' Groundspider began.

Heron quickly held up a finger, silencing the pair. Decorum was restored.

‘Thank you, Sister Heron.' Mantis smiled. ‘Now, gentlemen, before further detailing your orders, I'll ask Brother Badger to brief you on Clan Fuma's unusual home base. I think, with Twilight War upon us, we should
all
hear it.' He gave Badger a nod.

Badger returned a seated bow, then dipped a hand into his jacket. Out came a large, folded piece of pale handmade paper. As Badger opened it with care, grumbling softly about the smoke stains on its edges, Moonshadow saw that it was a map. Badger spread the map on the tatami in the
centre of their circle, coughed hard into his hand, and started to speak.

‘Most shadow clans have a home village. Not the Fuma: they live
underground
, inside a hollow mountain that serves as an impregnable fortress as well as their home. This map comes from information collected during Snowhawk's debriefing, just before she swore loyalty to us. It shows not only the location, but the interior of the Fuma's mountain base:
Fumayama
, as it's known. All its entrances lie above the permanent snowline, so if you end up going there, you'll soon forget that it's actually summer. A disused silver mine, Fumayama has man-made tunnels
and
an extensive natural cave system.'

‘A mine?' Groundspider shrugged. ‘How did shinobi get their hands on a
mine
?'

‘Fifty years ago, the mine's lodes of silver sharply declined. As a result, the desperate clan-owned mining company grew reckless. Hunting for new lodes, they sank ever-deeper shafts, carved even remoter tunnels, until some disaster occurred. Nobody seems to know exactly what happened, but it's clear that over half the miners died in a very short space of time. Not surprisingly, the mine was abandoned. It remained unvisited for years until, according to Snowhawk, the area's Regent gave it to the Fuma.'

‘What?' Moonshadow angled his head. ‘A
regional nobleman just
gave
a mine to the Fuma ninja? Why?'

Badger grinned cynically. ‘He was showing gratitude for, of all things, their help in stemming a local peasants' rebellion. You see, the Fuma assassinated the uprising's well-hidden leader, which delighted the Regent and made it easy for his samurai to win. Quite fitting in a way that the Fuma should get a mine. Miners use gunpowder, which the Fuma have always excelled at making. We've seen firsthand the effectiveness of their bombs and miniature cannons, but it's said they can also skilfully manipulate huge blasts, instantly creating moats and redoubts on the battlefield. Silver Wolf would love that!'

Moonshadow glanced upwards, pinching his nose. ‘Well, their gunpowder
stinks
.'

‘Ah … ah!' Badger's eyes glinted with scholarly enthusiasm. ‘I'm glad you raised that! The awful residual odour is because of a unique ingredient they add …'

‘Why did you have to get him excited?' Groundspider whispered.

‘Like us they add mugwort, moxa and camphor to their powder mix, but they also, for reasons I don't yet fathom, add horse dung! Now, my working theory is that it –'

‘Brother Badger.' Mantis groaned. ‘Perhaps you could finish on the rock-writing.'

‘Uh? Oh! My apologies.' Badger took a breath, reined in his academic zeal, and eyed the young duo. ‘There's a small landmark to watch out for, which identifies your safest entry point: it lies near what Snowhawk called Fumayama's
back door
. She said she rarely passed that entrance, but once noticed some characters there, cut into the rock. Nobody knows who carved these
kanji
, or when. They form the words for
hell
and
lips
.'

‘Great! We're being sent to
the lips of hell,
' Groundspider said slowly. ‘Where lots of people have already died and a whole army of hostile ninja lie in wait to slay
us
.'

‘A fair summary.' Badger's nose crinkled. ‘What's your point?'

Groundspider rolled his eyes.

Mantis flashed a grim smile. ‘Enough: here are the fine details of your orders.'

Moonshadow's stomach fluttered. The nastiest bit of all was coming, he felt it.

‘If shown to have been abducted,' Mantis said, ‘Snowhawk is to be rescued, striking the first counter-blow in this Twilight War, one which should deter the Fuma long enough for us to regather our agents and freelancers.'

There was that word
should
again, Moonshadow observed silently.

‘If, however,' Mantis concluded, ‘Snowhawk is proved to have been a double agent,
Moonshadow
is ordered to prevent her from giving the Fuma our secrets and intelligence …' He paused, staring into Moonshadow's eyes. ‘… by whatever means.'

Moonshadow's throat constricted. He had been expecting this, but the order, subtle as it was, tore through him like an arrow. He saw a struggle in Mantis's eyes, too. Buddhist Mantis, for whom all life was sacred, was also now Master Mantis of the Grey Light Order.
That
Mantis was obliged to order Moonshadow to correct his own mistake, by assassinating the traitor he had brought inside their walls.

A traitor who had saved his life. A traitor he still believed to be falsely accused. Moonshadow swallowed hard. ‘But only if it's proved that she was … an infiltrator.'

The damning word almost stuck in his dry, narrowed throat.

‘Correct,' Mantis said with no trace of emotion. ‘I am simply ordering this: learn the truth … then act accordingly.'

Moonshadow closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. Perhaps he
should
have given a fuller account of her capture and let the touchy hypnosis debate run its course. Too late now! If he tried to raise new facts this late in the piece, he'd seem mad, or a liar.

Groundspider dug him in the ribs. ‘Relax, kid, if it comes to that, you can do it. All part of the
life. And hey, if you just
can't
, step aside and I'll do the icky duty myself.'

Icky duty? He made it sound like emptying latrine boxes. Moonshadow lowered his head. Maybe this really
was
going to be a mission to hell. What if, in the end, it turned out
he
was wrong about Snowhawk?

After seeing the proof, could he do it? Could he destroy his best friend?