The Smoke Dragon

  Chapter 2

  The sparrowhawk perched atop the samurai’s helmet, tucked behind the oval Shinichi clan insignia. His landing was weightless, a practised manoeuvre. His shimmering invisibility a mask no human could penetrate without acute perception. No doubt Kaidan would laugh at his audacity.

  Tsubasa observed the small column of riders as they galloped for the Kita Pass, and the village of Kyuusai in the Autumn Valley beyond. Nine riders were all the daimyo had chosen to send. Eight samurai in burnished cobalt plate and lacquered bamboo armour, all with matching clan insignia on their helms. One warrior rode ahead. He was more brutish than the rest, even in the saddle. The bright crimson armour, stylised as a bear, marked him as leader.

  Tsubasa chose the samurai at the end of the column—the ideal place to surveil the band—but the sloppy ride jostled him around. The sparrowhawk quickly regretted his choice—this samurai was at the rear for a reason.

  Tsubasa’s torment soon ended as the column slowed and reformed into two, in preparation for the Kita Pass. Again, his adopted samurai dropped to the rear. Their pace was deliberate as they traversed a path that wound between cliffs and trees that crowded toward one another. Gnarled root systems riddled the cliffs, forming the legendary living walls of the Kita Pass. The pass was rich in earthy fragrances of moss and moist dirt.

  "Hey, Teraku," Tsubasa’s samurai said to the man riding beside him.

  The other samurai squinted at the helmet Tsubasa perched on for a moment, and then stroked his angular beard. "What, Haru?"

  "Hideki told me this village was attacked by the Oni."

  "Nonsense," chided Teraku. "Haven’t seen ogres or demons before. I’m not afraid of folk tales. You shouldn’t be either, Haru." Teraku jabbed his finger toward him to emphasise his point.

  "Hideki is wise. He’s been in Shinichi’s service for many years. He’s seen things. Told me things." Haru’s voice was tight and child-like.

  "I’d not pay attention to the stories of grey-hairs and scribes."

  "He said a dragon was loose in the countryside. That it was looking for babies to eat, and treasures to steal away to the Spirit World."

  "Don’t speak of such things, Haru. It’s nonsense." Teraku’s hand drifted to the sword at his hip, his eyes darted from tree to rock to tree. His dappled brown mare snorted and shook its head.

  "But Teraku, what if it’s true? What if Uncle Takahiro is sending us to our doom. There are only—"

  "Enough!"

  Flapping wings filled the nearby forest. A quartet of olive coloured birds took to the sky.

  A few of the warriors glanced behind them, their gaze moving from Teraku to a red-faced Haru. At the head of the column, their leader rode in silence.

  Tsubasa kept his ears sharp, but struggled to tear his gaze from the receding group of birds—White-eyes by their markings. His hunting instincts simmered.

  "I’m sorry, Teraku," Haru whispered, once the other samurai had turned away.

  "Don’t speak of such things. Daimyo Takahiro is an enlightened man. He knows how to maintain peace. Besides, these disturbances are usually bandits. Have faith in your sword."

  Haru nodded, almost shaking Tsubasa from his perch. "You’re probably right. My uncle would not send me—us—here to die."

  The samurai negotiated the final section of the pass at a cautious gallop and entered the Autumn Valley. The blossom-crested expanse of Mount Akiyama dominated the view, the centre of a line of mountain enclosing the valley. Greenery spanned the valley floor, wild grasses and shrubbery. Dwarf ferns and spiky-leafed shrubs dominated the lower slopes before giving way to the stands of cedars and oaks. Cultivated land wasn’t feasible this close to the highlands. The creatures of the wild mountains were extremely territorial.

  Within sight of home, Tsubasa sprang from Haru’s helm, rocking the man’s head. The sparrowhawk wheeled in the air, watching the chubby samurai rearrange his helmet while wearing a slaw-jacked expression.

  "What was that?" the bird heard him say.

  "Just your imagination, Haru," Teraku answered. "Now calm yourself, before the Bear notices your prattle."

  Soaring away, Tsubasa detected the tang of smoke on the breeze.

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