He tried to put on a brave face. “You can do this,” he said, pushing her helmet into her hands. She had fallen to her knees. “Now get up. Go now, Kai, go with the prince. Tell him it’s time.” He then pulled on his iron facemask, the grimacing features marked there, making him a monster.
He turned to Myorin. “Whatever happens, get her out. Get her to Tokuon in the field.”
His daughter shouted that she heard. At the west side of the compound, by the bridge, he saw the pall of flames. The temples blazed and spewed black smoke.
“Hurry, get her up. Get ready to run.” He shouted to his men, filing them into ranks. “The Keishi have taken the bridge.”
Myorin met his eyes, and he gave her a small nod. He was suddenly filled with the memory of how impulsively she’d leaped onto the training-horses when she was young. Tsuna, more calculating, had always taken more time. “I will see you again.” Tsuna’s hand clenched her blade, the other around Kai’s shoulder.
“Take her through the lower gate,” he said. His voice was raw, caught in his throat. “Don’t stop until you reach Tokuon. I’ll hold them here. Go, Kai. Go now!”
Another rain of arrows. Tsuna grabbed Kai bodily and shoved her to Myorin, who took Kai’s hand in an iron grip and pulled her away. Both sisters had several arrows sticking from their armor, too. The east gate would soon break. House Kaga – tributary branch of the Keishi – had arrived.
“Form a line!” Yora’s few remaining soldiers began to prepare the defense of the inner courtyard.
“Head down!” Tsuna shouted.
A stray arrow caught Kai in the back of the shoulder, and she fell. His heart tensed; she cried, “I’m all right!” as they forced her to the middle of the circle of black-clad Jibashiri. The protective group carved a path through the confusing mass of soldiers trying to get to the south gate. To the east, Kaga banners – the ring of three – fluttered in the wind.
Kai heard the shouts and called back, “Yora!”
“Go!” he said. “Go!”
Let them make it out, he thought,if only them in this soul-ending world.
Tsuna pulled her on. One of Myorin’s Jibashiri held a young boy in his arms, at the south side by the gate, calling to them to flee. Nioh’s son. Noyori.
Let them be safe.
Another whistle cut the air.
Yora shouldered his way back to the courtyard, urging his soldiers to form a line. He coughed, out of breath.I have to stop this.I have to end it now.He thought of the great gates of the palace, that day that he’d returned, how they stood open to him and brought him in; he thought of the friends he’d had, and those he’d lost. How Seikiyo had offered him a hand.
The air felt heavy. The fog was slowly burning off. Pale sun, weak and thin as ice-chips in the river. Yora, wounded on the arm and leg, went back to rally the last of his bannermen from the bloody beach. They would make their stand inside the temple walls.
“Back,” he cried. “Back to the gates!”
Around them, arrows continued to fall.
CHAPTERFORTY-FOUR
Rui
You must kill the demon in your heart, they told her.
You must kill the demon.
You must kill.
The world was madness. Rui didn’t know where the Gensei or the monks had gone – she saw no one but Keishi footmen on the winding path, crashing through courtyards and swarming at the main engagement from the rear.
She clutched her sword, ran fast as she could. If she stopped, she wouldn’t be able to start again; the fear would take hold, gripping her heart. She’d never been in a battle before. She was barely trained. Whatever plans they’d had, everything fell apart the instant that the Keishi came at them from behind. Now, caught between the Keishi at the river and the Keishi from the fields, they were trapped.
“Get to the prince!”
Her guards were screaming in the din. She had to help them flee the bridge, the rain of arrows, and make it to the town on the southeast side of the river.
“Where is the prince? Where’s Nioh?”
