Scott McGough: Heretic, Betrayers of Kamigawa

The general was no longer even sure that the original three heads that fought Yosei were still there-the four that now led the avalanche of scales and muscle were completely unlike what Takeno remembered. Was the gigantic brute growing, feeding on the terror it caused? Or was it simply so vast that it could not be seen in its entirety, only in ever-changing increments?

Whatever O-Kagachi was, it was moving inexorably toward the tower. As the old soldier stared down, the serpent touched the exterior walls for the first time, nudging them with one of its gargantuan noses, testing its strength.

Takeno felt a rush of savage pride. Here the great beast would be slowed if not halted. The entire fortress was constructed of the densest stone available and shielded by some of the most fearsome spells ever cast. It was designed and built to withstand any attack, no matter how overwhelming.

Below, O-Kagachi probed harder, bringing a second head forward to prod and pound the white stone wall. Its efforts so far had not moved a single block nor produced a single crack in the mortar. Still, it was too dangerous not to follow the plan he and Konda had developed for the fortress’s defense. There were soldiers and horses and great moths waiting for the order to attack.

Stiffly, Takeno drew his bow and nocked an arrow with an oil-soaked rag wrapped around its tip. He waved the arrow over a nearby lamp, igniting the rag. The general sighted along the northeast corner of the wall, adjusted for the wind, and let the arrow fly. The flame was dim and muted in the haze, but the old man’s aim and his arm were up to the task. The flaming missile almost reached the far wall, eventually embedding itself in the dusty ground, leaving the exposed portion of the oily rag to burn.

“Cavalry.” Takeno’s parade-ground voice was as loud and as smooth as it had been during his first command. The arrow’s flight was the signal, however, and before it even landed a great roar rose from the rear grounds of the fortress. A sound much like thunder rolled forward, a sound that Takeno had heard a thousand times while campaigning for the daimyo, a sound that comforted him and told him some things could always be relied on. The spirit of horses and the bravery of men in combat. The power and majesty of a fine steed. The purity of purpose that comes from knowing ones cause is just.

Takeno lit another arrow, but instead of using the bow he held the flaming bolt out at arm’s length over the edge of the balcony. He opened his hand and the arrow fell, flame-first.

“Archers,” he boomed. “Stand ready.”

The riders on the ground would have rallied, and the bowmen in the tower would have prepared as soon as they saw the signal, but Takeno wanted to issue the orders personally, even if he was the only one who actually heard. Overhead, he heard the soft whoosh as dozens of giant moths flew toward the enemy.

Outside the wall, O-Kagachi had brought three of his heads to bear and was beginning to show signs of anger. He rained blows down upon the same section of wall, pounding it with his closed jaws, withdrawing that head then pounding with a fresh set. The rhythm grew more solid as the power behind each stroke increased. As each head fell into the cadence, O-Kagachi’s coils rolled up behind his heads, towering over the top of the wall itself.

Takeno despaired at the sight of the Great Old Serpent massing to crush the walls simply by slithering over them. Perhaps it was his pride that kept O-Kagachi hammering, or maybe he was so primal that he simply was not capable of seeing anything but the most direct path to his goal. One thing was clear: The serpent was determined to batter down Eiganjo’s mighty walls, and his lack of progress was beginning to annoy him.

Even the charmed walls of the daimyo’s strongest fortress could not stand for long against O-Kagachi’s onslaught. The first cracks appeared directly under his pounding muzzles, and the great serpent kept on. A block of stone near the top of the wall split in two, and the monster’s blows sent the top half careening across the interior courtyard. The wall began to buckle, and still the relentless drumbeat of the monster’s pounding heads continued.

Takeno lit another arrow and readied his bow. He had to turn away from O-Kagachi to have a clear shot, but he listened closely as he drew back the string. When he heard the wall go, he would signal the cavalry. Two thousand men and horses would ride around the tower and charge O-Kagachi. Once engaged by the ground forces, the aerial assault could begin. Aboard the moths were some of the most gifted battle mages in Konda’s army, but they were few in number. The daimyo had always preferred to rely on the swiftness of his steeds and the discipline of his troops in battle, reserving magic for the most dire of circumstances.

Takeno waited, listening, as the bowstring hung in the grooved calluses on his bow fingers. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he stared straight ahead, half hypnotized by the flame. The pounding continued, but the wall held. For now.

Below him, two hundred archers stood in similar positions, ready to let fly at the marauding beast. There were some magicians among them, too, and many of their arrows had been blessed by the Myojin of Cleansing Fire to fly straight and true, to consume anything unrighteous in a blaze of heat and light.

From behind him, the terrible sound of shattering stone pained his ears. Takeno drew the string back to its limit but did not release. Instead, he glanced at the scene behind him, where O-Kagachi was breaching a hole in the wall large enough for more than one of his heads.

Takeno stared as the serpent tore stone blocks loose with his powerful jaws, almost daintily seizing them between his teeth and wrenching them free. Once clear of the wall, the blocks were casually discarded with stupendous force that sent them hurtling across the courtyard.

The general lowered his bow. It was hopeless. Ten thousand riders would barely attract O-Kagachi’s attention. They were like ants attacking a bear. All the arrows in the world would not penetrate his hide. Not when Yosei could barely punch through with all of his speed and weight behind him.

He and Konda had treated this contest as just another battle between the daimyo’s army and a marauding kami. Twenty years of stalemate had made them careless and complacent. This was no simple kami, or even a myojin. It was like the sky itself turning against them, or the sea, or the ground beneath their feet. O-Kagachi would destroy them all without even noticing what it was he destroyed.

Takeno stared down at the serpent making his steady way through the wall and into the interior courtyard. Konda had led them to greatness, to victory and glory, but he had also led them here, to battle O-Kagachi in a futile effort to preserve the last shreds of grandeur that still clung to the nation.

Takeno shuddered, appalled at his own thoughts. Daimyo Konda was his lord and ruler, and he deserved total unquestioning loyalty. How could Takeno lay the blame for everything that happened solely at Konda’s feet? Had he not been there on that terrible night twenty years ago? Wasn’t he standing by when Konda pulled the great stone disk from the kakuriyo, ready, even eager to support his lord and help him achieve his aims? None of them could have known that Konda’s spell would spark two decades of kami hostility and eventually bring the serpent’s wrath upon them. Takeno knew it was not his place to question Konda, not then and not now.

The general raised his bow again and let the arrow fly. Tossing his weapon aside, he lit a final arrow and dropped it over the side. He turned, walked to the edge of the balcony, and rested his hands on the rail.

Thunder came once more from the rear courtyard as the cavalry rode in at full gallop. The men were roaring, wild-eyed, their war-cries bolstering Takeno’s spirit as well as their own courage. From the tower, the first few glowing bolts lashed out. They were followed by a storm of arrows and beams of magical force from the moths overhead. The waiting was over. The final battle had begun.