Chapter one: Conflict
#2 of Tales of Ippon
Battle fatigue can lead to strange dreams
Swords rang, arrow shafts flew thicker than swarming mosquitoes in summer, and
hundred died before the battle ground to a sickening halt, neither side giving way. The
attackers rallied and regained their strength for another charge upon the fortified city, with
the Defending army between them and the walls. Every head turned to look as a piercing
roar split the heavens like a peal of riotous thunder, scaring the waterfowl away for miles.
"That is Shidomori-san, Lord Roji. She is challenging you directly," The Nezujin
advisor spoke softly, his armor unscathed, as he had never spent a second on the front line
of combat.
Takana Roji, Lord of Saoto, hissed through his front teeth. In his heyday he had
been called "Ironbiter", for the time when he had bitten an opponent's katana in half. He, like
his sniveling advisor, as well as entire army, was Nezujin. Takana Roji was old, though, and
he carried the weight of his age in a drum-tight paunch. He growled, "To think these simple
mountain-folk could be so troublesome... Especially this one... this 'Shidomori'..."
The advisor hissed quietly, "The soldiers speak as if she was a ghost, lord, flitting
amongst them like a cloud of death."
Takana Roji clenched his gnarled fists, his old knuckles cracking. After a moment's thought
he bellowed, "Kodori!"
"Yes sire?" A lithe, young Samurai who showed great prowess with the Katana
knelt at Takana's feet. His armor was red, trimmed in silver, with black inlays in the red
steel, and his helmet carried the horns of an ancient elk.
Takana hissed coolly, "See to that upstart wench."
"Shall I slay her, or simply humiliate her?" The Samurai lieutenant chittered,
eager for a chance to further himself in his Lord's eyes.
Takana waved him away, "Do as you wish, force her to submit to you if you feel
like. I want Tetsumo's Gates by nightfall!"
"It will be done, lord!" The rat hurried away, the army moving aside for their
champion. He stopped at the front line and stared across the hundred-yard gap, eyes
seething. Across the breach, stood the tall form of a Jirajin samurai, clad in the Akanti colors
of silver and black, with a purple sash across her chest. Her armor was sparse, with only
shoulder plates, cuisses and leg guards, and from what he could see the rest was simple
clothing. At her waist were the paired Katana and Wakizashi that marked her as Samurai,
and in her left hand was a very impressive longbow. She straightened and tossed her copper
hair to a more comfortable place.
She shouted across the gap, "You are not Takana Roji!"
Kodori inhaled and screamed, his voice shrill on the dawning wind, "I am Kodori
Hatsaka! I will be your opponent!" Kodori wasted no time with shouted words. He drew his
Katana, crafted personally by Atsuhi Kadomatsu for Kodori's ancestors. The blade had seen
countless battles and he could have sworn he felt the hunger for life the sword was rumored
to have. Kodori broke into a roaring charge across the field, but after his fifth stride he felt as
if time slowed to a crawl. His battle shout grew thick in his ears as he watched the Jirajin
Samurai raise her bow and nock an arrow in one smooth motion. As his momentum peaked
he felt the soul-splintering twang of the bowstring as the arrow neatly leapt the distance
between its shooter and it's target. His mind registered the danger, but his impetus was too
strong and he could not halt himself in time. He felt time stop as he saw the arrow close on
his eyes... "Why does this arrow have purple fletchings?" he thought to himself before the
broad tip of the missile split his forehead between his eyes and his world snuffed out.
The Roji army gave a collective whimper of dismay as Kodori Hatsaka's corpse
was stopped mid-charge and knocked clean onto his back. The oddly fletched arrow jutted
from the place between his eyebrows, just under the helmet's visor. Kodori's eyes were filled
with shock, while his mouth was twisted into a vile snarl of muted rage.
Back at the firing point of the Arrow that felled Kodori Hatsaka, the Samurai
Archeress inhaled before roaring across the field, "Takana Roji!! You cower behind your
underlings! Come die with the honor you claim to have!!"
In the command camp of the Roji Army, a very agitated Takana Roji paced
angrily. His entire campaign against Tetsumo had been undone in a matter of moments.
None of the options he saw ended favorably. He could accept Shidomori's challenge, but he
knew she would slay him with her arrows easily. If he refused her challenge, his Army would
smash itself against her superior defenses. He was not prepared to fight a war of attrition,
and he knew that another force of the Akanti Clan would arrive in a few days to assist
Shidomori's defenses. If he decided to withdraw after such an arduous campaign his honor
would be destroyed, and one of his underlings would have him assassinated. He hissed
angrily and pounded the hilt of his katana.
"Lord Roji," his advisor purred in his ear, "She is but an archer, Sire. Take her
with your sword and do not allow her the Bow."
Takana froze as a ray of hope shone through his gloom. He grinned a smile laced
with malice, "Yes... Send the terms. I shall show this upstart Lizard-bitch that none may insult
Takana Roji and survive!"
"On your victory, our forces shall withdraw unmolested. Should the Lord Roji win,
your forces will surrender the Gates of Tetsumo," the footman knelt before the lithe
archeress that had felled Kodori without hesitation, and felt his bones chill in fear for his life.
Usuyami gave a hissing breath, exasperated by the ambitions of Takana
Roji, "Accepted."
The footman allowed a smile to play across his lips for a short moment, then
nodded, "My Lord will face you with sword. He reminds you that it would be most
dishonorable to respond with bowshot."
An even coarser hiss escaped and Usuyami Shidomori lashed her muscled tail
against the ground in controlled rage, "Do not speak to ME of honor!" She glared down at the
footman and he met her stare, freezing in fear. Her eyes held him in her grasp and he was
astounded. Her left iris was black, and the retina shone through the slit of her pupil, reflecting
the dawn's light in green hues. He quivered in fear and nearly soiled himself, but he did not
move, for to move would invite death. She sighed, cooling her temper instantly with an
astounding amount of restraint, "His terms are accepted. Do not make me wait."
The footman leapt to his feet and ran back to relay the message, hear jumping
wildly in his chest.
The sun rose ever higher in the morning light, baking the blood and viscera that
was strewn about the field. Standing among the fallen, the two samurai faced off. Takana
wielded paired katana, on in each hand, and with expertise that was expected from someone
his age. His swords were old, well used, and the steel itself was a deep red, stained by the
blood of the many they had killed. Usuyami drew her own sword, the blade's steel crafted in
the method that could only be achieved in Tetsumo. The steel was melted to extreme
degrees, and the impurities boiled out of the molten metal. As the steel cooled to the point of
shaping, certain trace metals were added in powered form, giving the blade extra hardness,
and other qualities. Once shaped into the blade, the edge took twenty years to sharpen, and
once honed, the edge would hold against any punishment. Several heatings and coolings
after the edging of the blade crystallized the metal, giving it a dappled look when the light
struck it.
Usuyami stared at Takana and gripped her single blade loosely in one hand,
waiting.
"You are audacious, at best, Shidomori-chan," Takana grinned icily, "challenging
me will be the last mistake you ever make."
Usuyami said nothing, waiting patiently.
Takana laughed, "I have taken a thousand men's heads! What makes you think
that you are a match for my prowess?"
"This is my home," she spoke evenly, anger and focused rage dripping from her
words as blood from a sword. "My blood, my sweat, my tears, as well as all the others who
have stood in your way this day, are in this land. So long as I draw breath, you shall NOT
pass."
"Then prepare for the void, girl!" Takana pointed his right sword at her
menacingly, eyes ablaze with indignant fury. "I will have Tetsumo, and the crows will have
your eyes!"
Usuyami rushed in, no longer waiting for the coward Takana to strike. His blades
sliced in at her, but she darted aside, his right hand blade skittering across her cheekscales.
She reached in with her free hand and gripped the shoulderseam of his breastplate, kicking
off the ground and vaulting clean over him. As she passed over him vertically, she lashed
her blade in to remove his chattering head, but he blocked with sound experience and
snarled as she landed behind him, still holding his armor.
"You bitch!" He flipped his left-hand blade around and stabbed under his arm at
her. She bent like a stalk of rice in the breeze, and felt the cold steel slick against the toned
hide of her belly. A soft hiss and she ripped free of the blade, tearing open her top at the
midsection, and planting one foot on Takana's back. With a little effort and a swing of her tail,
she neatly backflipped in place, kicking her foot out and tossing the rotund rat lord fifty feet.
She cartwheeled out of the flip and launched herself into a leap that followed Takana's
trajectory.
He landed square on his back, his breath fleeing his stunned lungs. As he tried to
suck in a breath, he caught a shadow over him, but his vision went red as Usuyami landed
square on his chest, her lightly armored knee caving his breastplate in and crushing his chest
inside. With a groaned yelp and a cough of thick blood, Takana died, his heart and lungs
crushed to pulp.
Usuyami stood and roared into the sky, her cry of: "Akanti!!!" echoing through the
surrounding valleys and mountains. Both sides knew the outcome, and the Tetsumo army
gave a weary cheer, adding their roar to their leader's victory cry. The Roji forces, under the
command of Takana's advisor, turned and withdrew to their lands, marching back down the
Saoma Pass. The Akanti forces of Tetsumo marched in exhaustion back through the heavy
gates of their town, and the people in the town cheered and welcomed them eagerly. Teams
of Eta clad in rough cloth loincloths ducked out the smaller gates to begin clearing away the
carnage that was left by the conflict.
"You should have seen her Miyajun!" the young blacksmith beamed as he hung up
his armor and spear, "I was on the front line where she killed him, not twelve paces away!"
The blacksmith's sister sighed, "Yureitsia..."
But Yureitsia Hagane was not listening to his Sister. He was busy pantomiming the
fight and the killing blow, "POW! Like that!"
"Yureitsia, why are you so fixated on her?" His sister grumbled as she poured him
a cup of cha, the acrid green tea steaming slightly in the cool of their house. She set the pot
down and brushed some of the soot from her green scales, wishing that she could afford
polishing oils like the Samurai women.
He blinked at his sister, "But... she's magnificent in battle! And she's so pretty..."
Yureitsia grinned as he imagined the Lady Shidomori in his bed. He was pulled from his
fantasy as a heavy wet rag landed on his head.
"You will never have a wife!" his sister teased, "No sane woman would tolerate
your lusting after Shidomori-sama!"
"I can dream!"
She shook her head, pointing to the forge, "Dreams will not feed us! There's work
to be done!"
Yureitsia sighed as reality came down on him again, "Okay, okay..."
"Lord Futsuyomi requests your presence in Kotumu as soon as is feasible, Lady,"
Usuyami's personal maid, Mido, said as she prepared the robe for her mistress.
Usuyami smiled contentedly as her masseuse, Tokko, worked his skilled fingers
over her back. "Mmmm, as soon as the repairs to the south wall are complete, I will make
for Kotumu with all haste."
Tokko, the masseuse, was old. Twice his lady's age and a little more, he had lost
his sight at the age of seventeen, when a wild cut from an ally bit through his eyes and
robbed him of his sight. He had learned the art of massage then, and he was a master. He
knew Usuyami was thinking on the battle, and he had known her for so long, he knew her
mind.
She sighed. For Usuyami Shidomori, lord of Tetsumo, the battle had been another
waste. The Roji always attacked her town, and they were always repelled. Tetsumo was on
the northern border of Akanti lands. The Akanti clan held five provinces: Katun, Raia, Shijito,
Hunto, and Futuka. Tetsumo was in Raia, on the border with Eizu, and it was seated on a
massive metal deposit, one of the finest in the lands. Tetsumo steel was high in demand for
its purity and durability. Most of their steel and crafted weapons went north to Eizu.
Eizu brought a deal of ambivalence to Usuyami's mind. She loved the province,
for its beautiful forests, and its mist-filled valleys full of rare flowers. However, Eizu's Lord
was most certainly a sore spot for her. Aritseru Kajikuro ruled Eizu, and he was completely
infatuated with her. He had almost attacked the head of the Akanti clan, Sikai Futsuyomi,
when Lord Futsuyomi had decided to let Usuyami decide whether or not to accept the
romantic advances of the Lord of Eizu.
Twice a month Lord Kajikuro sent her a new Kimono and a bushel of flowers, with
a marriage request interlaced with the gifts. He already had three wives, and a large number
of consorts. On a diplomatic visit to Eizu Castle, Usuyami had seen the room that Lord
Kajikuro's consorts stayed in for herself. Two score of voluptuous women, all wearing loosed
kimonos, chattering among themselves about previous sexual escapades with the Lord of
Eizu. Some of them were even nursing small children. To join that number was the last thing
Usuyami wanted. So, she would make a gift of the kimono to a random woman from the
town, and the flowers would decorate her household. And, naturally, the request would
always be politely declined.
A sudden jolt of pleasure rocked Usuyami back to awareness as Tokko worked his
steely fingers over and around her tailbase, stimulating the muscles there as well as the
rather sensitive nerves.
"Ahhnn... Careful, Tokko-dono, or you will end up with a very aroused samurai
under those fingers." She giggled, looking back at the blind man.
"Aha, Shidomori-sama," He grinned, ancient mirth unmarred by his
blindness, "Were I twenty years younger, I would welcome that event. But these days I find
myself cheering whence I manage a steady stream in the morning!"
The laughed, and Usuyami lightly dismissed Tokko, thanking him as she pulled
her soft robe on and headed inside to sleep away the fatigue from the battle. Sleep claimed
her the instant her head came to rest on the futon.
"Awake yet?" the calm male voice asked.
"Nnn... I am now..." Usuyami grumbled, the breeze ruffling her hair as she nuzzled
into the warm lap her head rested on. Then she wondered why her head was in someone's
lap and sat up straight, feeling for her blade, but it was nowhere to be found. In fact, she was
no longer in her room, but in a massive field of flowers. She looked at the one who had
comforted her and was faced by a pale ochre Rasagan male, with white-blonde mane and
stunning golden eyes. She stammered, confused, "Wh-where?"
"You are dreaming," the equine smiled a little.
"Dreaming?" Usuyami looked around, the flowers in the field were all her most
favorite. Dragonlillies, mostly, which never grew in large groups, and only grew on
mountainsides.
"Yes," he reached over and caressed her neck, "dreaming."
She blinked, "But... who are you, then?" Her confusion was evident, as she had no
clue what the Rasagan would be doing in her dream.
"You are the one who dreamt me," he chuckled as his soft fingers tickled under
her jaw affectionately, "So I should be asking you that."
She shook her head, pulling from his touch, "you have to have a name..."
"What is it?" he asked, looking at her closely, almost expectantly.
She hissed almost silently and was about to curse his idiocy when he stopped her
with a finger to her muzzle and grinned.
"Rasa is my name."
Shock replaced her anger, as she had just been about to refer to him as 'Rasa'.
"Do you still not believe that you are dreaming?" he raised an eyebrow.
"Of course not! I do not dream of Rasagans," she retorted quickly.
He folded his arms over his muscled chest, "Then explain why we are naked..."
Usuyami blinked and felt the breeze caress her bare scales and skin. She looked
at herself and her robe had vanished completely! She closed her eyes and sighed, "Okay...
I'm dreaming now."
"I told you so," the equine grinned impishly.
Usuyami eyed him suspiciously, "wait... if we're naked then that means that you
and I are going to..." she trailed off, her expression conveying her thoughts.
Rasa smiled, "Oh, I certainly do hope so." He adjusted his position a little as his
thick sheathe swelled and sprouted his heavy, slightly mottled maleness.
Usuyami blinked at the sight of his shaft and then suddenly found herself deep in
the throes of passionate lovemaking, the Rasagan's heavy cock rutting her with long thrusts.
She whimpered and moaned as his flared head rubbed all along her insides, taking her to her
peak quickly. As she felt the wave of her orgasm wash over her, she woke in her futon with
a startled gasp, a warm, moist feeling between her thighs.
"Shidomori-sama, is everything all right?" Mido whispered from the door.
"Y-yes," Usuyami blushed, not that anyone would have seen it, "Just a nightmare,
that's all." She gathered herself up and stepped outside, the chilled morning mist wondrous
on her opaline scales. The sun was rising over Mount Sufi in the distance, painting the clouds
overhead in colors of dawn. She drew in a breath and held it, clapping her palms together
twice and thinking a prayer to Ganta for that sunrise.
A small ceramic bell sounded, lettign her know that breakfast would be ready at
her request. She headed for the baths, however, knowing that she reeked of spent arousal.
The Sticky feeling betwixt her thighs evidence enough of her amorous dream. Once inside,
her bath maids set to scrubbing and polishing her prismatic white scales. After a short soak
in the hot water, followed by something to eat, she dressed.
A violet top, inlaid with lavender patterns of six-point lotuses covered her ample
bosom, which she kept slightly bound, for comfort and ease of movement. The six-point
Lotus was the symbol of the Akanti Clan, and she wore it proudly. Plain black Hakama
covered her legs, as well as dark gray Tabi socks and black leather sandals that she would
wear outside of the house. Her swords were carefully retrieved from the Takonama, a small
niche in the wall where an ornate stand held the blades in reverence. She adjusted the
sheathed blades in the silver sash at her waist for comfort and looked out the window at her
town. The people were bustling with the shift changes from night to day, as the main forges
had to be kept burning all the time. She smiled and picked up her bow and a small quiver of
her purple-fletched arrows and headed out to walk through her town.
As she walked the streets, people moved aside for her without question. She was
samurai where they were not. If she wished, she could remove the head of every last farmer
in the city without the chance of having her superiors question her. But the townsfolk knew
she was not the type of samurai to do that. She would smile and greet everyone who met
her eyes, thanking them for their work before moving on through the streets. Her people
loved her, and from that they worked tirelessly for the benefit of the entire town. Seven
thousand smiths, farmers, herders, and other occupations all worked with each other to
make Tetsumo one of the most prosperous towns in all Akanti lands.
Usuyami's walk came to a halt as a shadow towered over her while she spoke
with a young blacksmith.
"Lady Shidomori?" The tall one asked, his voice not as deep as one would think
from his size.
Usuyami handed the steel back to the young man and nodded to him, "Excellent
quality. Keep up the great work, Hagane-kun."
The young man shivered happily and dashed off, laughing to himself.
"Usuyami Shidomori?" the tower of a man asked, growing impatient.
She rolled her eyes and turned, "I have that name, yes..." she stared, but found
herself eye-level with his midsection, so she looked up, "And you are?"
"I am Waru Gurubiki, a messenger from Lord Kajikuro of Eizu," the massive
Kibajin knelt respectfully.
Usuyami sighed silently, "You are a good ways from home, Gurubiki-san."
"My Lord humbly wishes you to attend the celebration of his Thirtieth year, two
weeks from the morrow," Waru Gurubiki spoke politely.
Usuyami nodded, "Please inform him I sill strive to attend." She smiled and
added, "But remind him that I have no current intentions of accepting his advances."
Waru laughed to himself. He knew well of Aritseru's infatuation with the Lady, and
now he understood why. She was fiery as the forges she commanded, and sharp as the steel
at her waist. "I will inform my Lord of such, Lady."
She nodded, "Thank you, Gurubiki-san. You must be hungry after such a long
journey. Please stay for a meal at my house."
"Your graciousness far outstrips the tales they tell, Lady Shidomori," Waru bowed
low, "I would much welcome a meal."
Usuyami smiled, "It is the least I can do for a bearer of good news." She waved
over a Kaga-man, and pressed a coin into the man's palm, speaking to Waru still, "This man
will lead you to my house. I shall return there after the hour of the pig. I still have the
southern foundry to inspect, as well as a shipment of rice from Kanna village to accept."
Waru nodded, "The mantle of leadership is a heavy thing, neh?"
Usuyami winked and raised a correcting finger, "Only to some, Gurubiki-san..."
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