The Siege of Tsume
“Granny, whose katana is that?”
Granny Hikomi turned to see her youngest grandchild, Norio, peeking his head over the edge of the little cabinet upon which her old weapon was on display. Its sleek blade was sheathed in a black scabbard, a motif of silver horses racing down its length. The boy was looking at it curiously, his hand half-raised to the hilt.
“Mine, child. Do not touch,” the granny spoke simply, turning back to her meditation in the garden of the house. The summer air was gentle today, dancing about the old trees that stretched far from the door of the house.
“Yours!?” Came Norio’s cry. He rushed out to plonk himself on the old lady’s lap, staring up at her with a new kind of curiosity. “What did you use it for?”
“Nothing good, little one. Think not of it.”
But by now, Norio’s questions had caused enough noise to bring forth his sister, Hanako, from her studies. “You never tell us about your youth, granny. Please tell us!”
Granny Hikomi thought carefully for a moment and then nodded with a kind smile. “Very well, but do not tell your mother. She will be home from the market soon and will not be pleased with you hearing old war stories.”
At this, both grandchildren sat down carefully on her left and right, looking up at the old warrior intently. Hikomi began her story thus:
When I was a little girl, I lived in a city called Tsume, the capitol city of a strong empire under the watchful eye of the Shogun, much like it is now. Except, in those days, the emperor did not live here among the Kaiyoma. He was an evil man called Parakh that ruled in secret from far off.
In 1863, when I was about 10, an official from Castle Tsume came by the house looking for strong children to train for the Shogun’s guard. In those days, the samurai had become weak, favouring their wands over their swords. Not at all like the strong warrior-mages in Tsume today. I was very strong, since we ran the sawmill on the city outskirts. The official took one look at me and gave me a letter ordering me to the castle the next day. So began my training, living in the castle and learning to fight with a sword, with a bow, and a strong head. Every day for many years I would wake early, duelling my peers – other children who were granted the honour of serving the empire – and honing my mind and body for war. Eventually, I was given a key to the castle so that I could come and go as I pleased. A small bronze disc – the very same one I still keep on me today.
On the last day of our training, when we were about to be given our titles and blades and duties, we were first given a final test of loyalty to the emperor…
When I walked into the dojo, I saw my father kneeling and bound at the wrists in the centre. His good eye looked up at me with pride and fear. A katana – that katana in there – was on a stand opposite him. I knew what was asked of me.
“Daughter,” my father said. “I am proud of you. I know you will do what is right. I know you will serve the Shogun well.”
I knelt beside him. “Damn the Shogun!” I cried, my tears staining the training mats.
The old man looked around at the empty dojo, deciding whether to speak. Eventually, he lowered his head to me, speaking freely, “Hikomi, there is talk outside the city of change. The free cities are moving against the empires. The emperor is growing reckless. My girl, the Shogun’s time grows short. As for me? I am old; it is my time too. The ancestors will forgive you if you do what is right. Serve the Shogun as long as he lives! Do you understand?”
I nodded, my vision almost completely useless against the onslaught of tears.
In his final moments, my father, his bloodied palms gripping mine about the hilt of the patricidal blade, spoke plainly and proudly, “Moons bless the Shogun.”
The children now stared at their grandmother with wet eyes, their pale eyes fixed to her face like the twin moons they prayed to each night.
“Why are you telling us this, granny? I’m scared…” Spoke Norio.
“I am telling you this, children, so that you understand the lengths a parent goes to for their child and so that you are aware of the dangers empires can pose. My peers did not hesitate to do what I struggled to do. Fanatics like that can not be reasoned with. Though they are honourable, be wary of the samurai, yes?”
Hanako nodded eagerly. The girl had been listening more attentively than her brother, who was now fidgeting uncomfortably at the hem of his shirt. She was around the same age Hikomi had been during the war, but her charms studies were of a much more wholesome nature than swords and spears.
“Perhaps that is enough war stories for today.” Granny Hikomi feigned a yawn. Norio stood quickly, assenting to her dismissal and rushing out into the garden to play. Hanako was less obedient:
“Granny, what did you do? Did you serve the Shogun? What happened to him?”
“You wish to know more, then? Very well, I will tell. But you must not interrupt me.”
1870, the Grey Year, had arrived. The mysterious and simultaneous deaths of the emperor and his imperial family, along with the rulers of the other empires around the world, were a catalyst for global anarchy. The rebels seized the city with unimaginable haste, and the emperor’s army were holding fast at the gate of the castle.
I had been in the forest hunting a criminal when the war started. The criminal had stolen a pistol from the armoury and was attempting to flee into the mountains. I had caught up to him easily and slain him, reclaiming the weapon for the empire. When I returned to the city, I saw the smoke and the cavalry. Once again, the twin moons guided me. Father had said to flee the city when the Shogun fell, but I knew the ancestors would not forgive such unavenged patricide, even if he was now among them.
I waited until night, removing my armour so I could move silently through the city. I had read manuscripts in the castle archives of an ancient tradition of warriors who could move without being seen or heard. I moved across the rooftops with only my terrible katana to protect me. I had had it tempered with Meteoris – star metal that could cut through magic and burn flesh.
Most of the fighting was happening at the main gate of the castle, but I knew of a way past the wall besides. Stealing my way into the tiered wizard tower near the temple, I climbed up to its roof. The wizard had already been slain in an apparently fantastic battle. His blade had not moved from its sheath, useless to the now westernised samurai. The wizard’s office was completely charred; any possessions or furniture either destroyed in the scuffle or ransacked. Climbing out from a splintered window, I stood on the slanted awning of the third floor of the tower. The wind was extreme, possibly the result of magical interference, but the old maple in the training yard of the castle was unmoving against it. I steeled myself, fastening the wizard’s katana to my waist alongside my own, before leaping across the gap between the tower and the maple.
Time slowed. An explosion of colourful light shook the air down at the main gate. Below me, the gnarled tops of the castle wall threatened to prematurely end my task. I twisted my body with practised ease, my back arching over the wall as I clutched at the strong branches of the maple tree. With a mighty and breathy thud, I caught myself in the tree’s heights.
Looking around, I was relieved to find the courtyard empty. The entire city’s defences were concentrated on the main gate. I walked unerringly to a door in the castle wall, passing my disc key across its magical latch. The door clicked open. I would not be stopped in my task.
I eventually reached the peak of the castle – the private office and quarters of the Shogun himself. Breaking through the shoji with my blade drawn, I found the room completely empty save for the Shogun, who was seated in the centre. He seemed to be meditating, though he was chanting a prayer I could not recognise.
“What violent tales are you scaring my children with now, mother?” Came a voice from within the house. Granny Hikomi turned slowly to lock eyes with her daughter, who had just returned from the market in her western skirt and hat. “Well?”
“Do not worry, Kiyo. I have not told her anything about the war that she could not find herself in her schoolbooks. Unless only samurai can read books in 1922?” She raised an eyebrow playfully at her granddaughter at this. The house was starting to cool with the coming of evening, and it was about time to cook dinner at any rate. “Come, child, I will prepare a ramen for you.”
Hikomi rose, walking past her frustrated daughter. She was upset, to be sure, but would probably only berate her mother once the children were asleep.
Later that night, when Granny was praying at the lunar shrine in the garden, she heard small footsteps approach. Hanako waited until her grandmother had finished her prayer before asking with a bow, “Granny, please will you tell me your story? Mother is asleep now… and I promise I won’t tell her!”
The old warrior chuckled, motioning for the child to sit beside her before continuing the end of her tale:
The Shogun did not look up from his prayer when I entered, but I did not wait for him to finish as you just did now. I was done with traditions and politeness. This was war. Still, I had honour. I tossed the wizard’s katana to him, readying my own in a defensive stance.
“Your wizard is dead,” I said, “your emperor is dead. You are as good as dead. Fight with honour, and perhaps the moons will shine favourably upon you.”
The Shogun opened his eyes now. Looking up at me, my blade raised, he began to laugh.
“Ah, Hikomi, I always knew it would be you that would betray me. Of all your peers, you were always the most dishonourable…” He stood, his heavy armour clacking noisily as he drew the sword. “Yes, the war is already lost. I would be a fool not to see that. And yet, the emperor and I worked hard to make this city what it is. I will not let it fall into the hands of rebels like you. So, I will kill you now and then destroy the entire city with you!”
He lunged suddenly with a speed unbecoming of a man his age. Ready for his strike, my blade met his with a fiery clash, arcane energy radiating from the point where the edges met.
The battle was silent and furious. It was nothing like those silly films they put on at the theatre. We only clashed for but a moment, but it was quickly becoming apparent that the Shogun was the better swordsman. With each strike, I was driven further back.
He brought his katana down in a huge, arcing swing that clashed with my own weapon centimetres above my head.
Another lunge came directly for my unarmoured chest. I swatted it out of the way, trying desperately to gain control of his blade.
Only a few passes of strikes occurred before I realised I would lose the battle. But I still had one last trick. It was not honourable, but it was certainly vengeful.
“Moons bless the Shogun.” I said, dropping my guard open to attack.
Irate, the Shogun made one final lunge for my torso, thrusting the point of the blade in a strong slide along the length of my blade. I allowed the attack to pass my defence, piercing directly through my ribcage. Dropping my sword, I grabbed his right hand with my left, pulling him and the blade closer in towards my body.
And with my right hand I drew the pistol I had retrieved hours earlier.
And fired it directly into his skull!
The Shogun’s unarmoured head exploded in a cloud across the room before both our bodies collapsed on the bloodied floor.
Hanako gasped at this. By now it was completely dark, but by the dim light of the twin moons overhead, Granny Hikomi could see her surprise.
“!” The girl intoned, “Did you survive?!”
The old lady simply laughed. “Yes, dear. The rebel army broke through the imperial defences soon after. When they reached the Shogun’s office, they found our bodies and figured out what happened. They set their best healers to the task of fixing me up, and I was fighting-fit by the end of the week. That is how I met your grandfather!
“He tried to convince me to join the war, but I was done with fighting. I told him to find me after the war and then left the city. And I never turned back.”