By Shawn Carman and Rich Wulf

The Unicorn camp, yesterday

The Khan’s chomchog had been disassembled for the first time in weeks. It was gone now, taken by a dozen oxen back to Shiro Moto, where it would be cared for until Chagatai required it again. For the moment, the Khan would not need it. Speed was more necessary than comfort. Whether victory or failure would be the Unicorn’s destiny, he would not sleep under the stars again tonight.

Shono’s horse galloped through the camp, kicking up dust and grass in its wake. The beast smoothly darted through the chaotic disarray of the breaking camp, sometimes leaping over low obstructions. The horse pulled up short and the rider glanced around. “You there,” Shono called, pointing at an errant soldier with an impatient glare. “Where is the Khan?”

The man looked surprised, but bowed quickly and looked to the eastern camp. “He is preparing his steed to lead the march, my lord, General.”

The rider nodded and turned his horse that way, leaving the soldier in the dust.

Moto Chagatai continued to secure his gear upon his saddle, not looking up but recognizing the rider from the gait of his steed. “Shono,” he said. “Your forces left at dawn. Should not their general be among them?”

“Mirumoto Kei’s forces have been routed into a box canyon,” Shono confirmed. “My soldiers hold their position there; I will rejoin them shortly. I must speak with you before you leave, my Khan.”

Chagatai raised an eyebrow. “If you must,” he finally said, nodding to his officers. The others bowed and stepped away so that the two could speak privately. “I find your demeanor unusual, Shono,” Chagatai said. “I trust you not to waste my time at such a moment, especially considering your mission. I sent you to deal with Kei because you are one of the few I trust to do what must be done.”

Shono nodded. “Huang is managing manners in my absence. I trust him like I trust myself. Let your surprise at my presence indicate the weight of my words, my Khan. I have received an unusual portent. I fear for our endeavors.”

Chagatai frowned. His gaze focused on Shono’s crystalline eye. “I am not a man who scoffs at magic, Shono-san, but neither do I afford its warnings greater weight than what instincts and experience tell me.”

Shono glanced away, clearly as uncomfortable with the matter as his Khan. “Yes, my lord. I have sensed something terrible on the horizon, and I fear for the well-being of our clan.” He paused for a moment and drew himself up in the saddle. “I have come to ask your permission to take your place as the commander at Sukoshi Zutsu.”

The Khan burst out laughing, slapping his horse’s flank as he climbed into his saddle. He wiped at his face when he finally finished. “Is that what you came back to tell me? That your crystal eye warns you there will be danger?” He chuckled darkly. “Then so be it. I am the Khan. Death rides beside me, eager to consume my enemies, and one day it will come for me. A Unicorn does not shy away from his fate. This war can be won.”

“With Rao’s forces lost it will be difficult,” Shono began. “I am not asking you to quit the war, my Khan, only to reconsider committing our forces to Sukoshi Zutsu so heavily. There may yet be time to find another way before the Champion arrives.”

“We will fight at a disadvantage, this is true,” the Khan agreed. “And if our troops see their leader withdraw and pass his duties to another, how much greater will that disadvantage be? If we divert any additional troops to the south, it will create an opportunity for the Dragon or Lion to push into our territory. That I cannot allow. For now, the balance of this war is clearer than it ever has been. No, I will ride to Sukoshi Zutsu, and you will fulfill your mission, preventing the Dragon from interfering further. Do not worry for me, Shono-san, I know more of the Lion’s tactics than perhaps they do.”

Shono bowed his head. “As you command, my Khan.”

Chagatai clapped him squarely on the shoulder. “You are a fine officer and an asset to my clan,” he said firmly. “I do not intend to ignore your warning, but neither do I intend to shy away from this conflict.” He studied Shono carefully. “I sense you already knew what my answer would be.”

“I did, my Khan,” Shono admitted. “Still, I could not let the warning go undelivered. Let us hope that I am wrong.”

Chagatai smirked. “You say we will face a terrible crisis, a test for all those who call themselves Unicorn?” The Khan drew his scimitar and gazed into the clear steel. “Shono-san, I hope that you are right.” He lifted the sword and gave the signal for the Unicorn to march.

The village of Sukoshi Zutsu, today

The Lion came with the sunrise, rushing across the plains, chasing the elusive rays of sunlight that drifted across the brown grass. The first wave was comprised of Ikoma wardens riding the finest steeds the Lion could muster. Their mounts were not the equal of Unicorn cavalry, but offered a significant threat regardless. In their wake marched heavily-armored spearmen, whose duty it was to bring down any Unicorn cavalry that survived or outmaneuvered the first wave. Beyond the spearmen followed a virtual ocean of infantry, wave upon wave of samurai and ashigaru clan in golden-brown armor. They rolled toward the village like an anxious tide. The Lion forces seemed endless.

A unit of Unicorn infantry followed a unit of Utaku Battle Maidens, who rode out to meet the Lion without hesitation. For perhaps the first time since the war had begun, there were no bold battle cries, no proclamations to the ancestors, no screams of defiance on either side. The battlefield was eerily silent for several long moments, with only the thundering hooves of cavalry and the distant clanking of armor to disturb the quiet ambiance of a crisp, late autumn morning. The silence was preserved for a single, perfect moment, and then the drums began. The rhythm was slow at first, and as it began the Lion troops began to march slowly in place, moving in time to the steady sound. The beat rose in tempo over the course of a full minute, the sounds of the soldiers’ feet pounding the earth inevitably growing so deafening that the drums were lost. Then, all at once, the soldiers and drummers stopped and all grew silent. Then the drummers gave a cry and the beat began anew, but this time it was only the sounds of Lion soldiers and horseman galloping forward as one.

The Unicorn foot soldiers began to waver, taken aback by the intimidating show of focus and unity. Their Shiotome commander hardened their resolve with a single cry, spinning her naginata in one hand and pointing at the Lion forces. The Unicorn front line struck the wardens with a crack. The Utaku crushed the wardens, leaving dead enemies and horses littering the battlefield. The Shiotome rode through to the spearmen, but found themselves stymied by the fire-hardened pikes the Lion held at the ready. The Lion infantry rushed forward to overwhelm the broken Unicorn line. From the walls of Sukoshi Zutsu, the Unicorn could see the violet banners of their kinsmen surrounded by an ocean of gold.

One by one, the purple banners fell among the Lion horde, yet each that fell toppled among a mass of Lion dead. The Unicorn’s first wave was defeated, but perhaps not as easily as the Lion would have hoped, and in the end their forces did not cover the horizon quite as completely as they did before.

And behind the walls of the village, the remaining Unicorn waited for the next assault

“Lord Nimuro,” Otemi shouted over the clamor, “the right flank is breaking through, but more Unicorn advance to fill the breach. What is your order?”

Mitsu Nimuro said nothing, but continued gazing across the battlefield at the carnage unfolding before him, his expression strangely rapturous. “It is even more beautiful than my memories,” he whispered hoarsely. “This is what I was born for. This is the reason for my creation.”

“Lord Nimuro?” Otemi said, still shouting and leaning forward in the saddle in an attempt to hear the Champion. “My lord, what is your order?”

“Deal with it, Otemi,” Nimuro said, waving the question away. “Prevent the Unicorn from gaining ground.” He drew his katana in one hand as his eyes scanned the enemy ranks. “I will see about bringing bout a more decisive conclusion.”

Otemi’s face was a mask of shock, with the barest hint of indignation. “My lord,” he said carefully, “the command group will require your aid. We have the advantage of numbers, but we should not underestimate the Unicorn. Our scouts report that the defenses around the village are stronger than we at first suspected. They resemble Crab fortifications.”

“I trust in their ability to adapt a counter-strategy without my involvement,” Nimuro said with obvious disdain. “I came for battle, and battle I shall have. Keep your tactics, Ikoma, they are the first casualty of war, a mere shield to confuse the enemy. At the day’s end, it will be the blades and cunning of single heroes that wins this day.” The Champion sneered at Otemi as the younger warrior stared at him blankly.

“As you command, Nimuro-sama,” Otemi said.

“You know that I speak the truth, Otemi,” Nimuro said. “I recall a life of war, the life of a hero, and your life is no different. They call me the Golden Lion of Toshi Ranbo.” He gestured with his sword toward the sea of death that surged before them. “After today you might be called the Crimson Lion of Sukoshi Zutsu, Otemi-san!” His eyes narrowed as he seemed to find what he sought among the enemy forces. With a hearty laugh, Nimuro led his personal guard down the hillside into the fray.

Another Lion officer turned to Otemi. “What do we do, commander?” He spoke no words against their champion, but his shock at their lord’s strange behavior was clear in his eyes.

Otemi did not hesitate. “We do our duty.” He turned to the assembled officers, pointing to two of them. “You, take your units and reinforce the flank. Nimuro will attempt to push through the Unicorn line and attempt to engage the command units near the rear. We must support him. I will signal a charge when I see that you have broken through.” He pointed to another. “Take your men and stand at the ready behind the engaged infantry. Kill anything that comes through. Take an additional division of archers and hold them in reserve. It will be difficult to use them effectively without taking casualties from friendly fire – I want to avoid that but if all else is lost be prepared to do what we must to break the Unicorn.” He turned back to watch the battle and drew his blade. “All of you be ready to charge in an instant if I give the word. We have the advantage, and I will not see it lost. If the Unicorn fall back toward the walls we must not pursue, not until our shugenja can disable their siege weapons.”

Otemi watched the distant form of Nimuro disappear into the melee with a mixture of apprehension and relief. Though the Champion was acting irrationally, his presence stirred the spirits of the soldiers as he passed, and it could not be denied that the reinforcements he summoned from the neighboring provinces made their victory here seem likely. Nimuro had lost both a sister and brother to the Shadowlands. It was one thing to lose kin to war, another to see them consumed by evil. Such losses could drive a man to madness. It seemed as if Nimuro was now willing to drive himself to death to avenge their loss.

Otemi only hoped Nimuro’s fury did not consume those who rode beside him.

Less than an hour after the Lion and Unicorn armies engaged, the dead littered the plains all around the village. The living could not stop to grieve, fighting on in fields of dry earth churned into mud by the blood. Pushing the grief and horror aside they continued to destroy one another in the name of honor, duty, and hatred. The Unicorn fell gradually back toward their outer siege towers, but the Lion came in waves, pushing them back. Even with Kaiu reinforcements the village had never been intended to be a military outpost. If the battle fell back to the walls, the village would be wiped from the face of the Empire. The Lion troops were like a force of nature, gradually pushing the Khan’s army back.

Yet as the walls drew closer the Unicorn forces moved with a sudden flurry. The outer siege towers burst open, disgorging unites of ghastly White Guardsmen from concealment among within. They broke through the infantry lines and making toward Lion officer positions. Fog rolled from the earth at the command of Unicorn shugenja, concealing the brutal Shiotome suicide charge. Each group of Maidens moved unerringly toward one of the Lion army’s command clusters. The Battle Maidens were inevitably overwhelmed, but the souls of Lion officers were carried to Yomi beside them.

There had been exactly one unit of Shiotome for each of the most critical command groups of the Lion army. Only a handful of officers survived the unexpected attack, too few to wonder how the Unicorn had struck at them so cleanly, so knowingly. Striking down the last of the Battle Maidens that faced him, Ikoma Otemi raised his tessen and shouted to restore order to his flagging troops, attempting to fall back until a chain of command could be reestablished, but chaos reigned. Matsu Nimuro seemed to thrive on the sudden disorder, commanding the troops to charge as he galloped toward Chagatai’s banner.

Chagatai saw the Lion Champion’s approach and watched as Nimuro cut down a half-dozen Khol warriors in as many seconds. The Khan lifted his scimitar and spurred his horse to meet his enemy’s advance. Unicorn warriors parted before him, no more willing to stand before them than they would stand before one of the Lords of Death.

It was the guttural death rattle of a loyal Matsu guardsman that alerted Nimuro to Chagatai’s presence. He wheeled with lightning speed and hurled himself to the side just as the Khan’s scimitar swung within inches of his head. The blade caught and sliced through Nimuro’s helm, although it did not reach his flesh. He tore the kabuto away, letting his long, sweat-dampened hair fly upon the autumn wind. With a guttural cry, Nimuro lashed out with his katana and felt the satisfying resistance of flesh against his steel. The Khan’s horse staggered forward and Chagatai reached out with one hand, seizing Nimuro by the leg and dragging him to the earth as well. Two Champions rolled to their feet, facing one another with blades held ready.

Chatagai lurched out of his saddle and fell roughly to the ground, rolling with the momentum of his fall and rising to his feet in an instant. “I raised that horse from a colt,” he snarled.

“Then he will be waiting to carry you to whatever gaijin Jigoku awaits you,” Nimuro replied with a dark laugh.

Chagatai sneered as he regarded the Lion. He drew a second, smaller blade in his offhand and advanced toward Nimuro. A Matsu guardsman tried to intervene, and Chagatai killed him with an almost casual stroke. He looked up with surprise to see that Nimuro’s blade was lifted as well, ready to cut down his own soldier rather than be denied this confrontation. The battle drew still around them as soldiers on both sides ceased combat to watch. Lion and Unicorn who had been in brutal conflict only moments before now stood side by side in fascination.

The Unicorn’s eyes fixed upon the man he had just killed, then upon Nimuro’s blade. An uncomfortable look settled upon his wide features.

“It is said the Lion are among the most noble of all samurai,” he said in a low voice, for Nimuro’s ears alone. “I expected cunning, but you would cut down your own men?”

“Victory redeems all,” Nimuro replied.

“You sound more like a Scorpion than a Lion,” Chagatai replied. “This is not the Golden Lion of legend.”

“Then I will make new legends, so that the legacy of the Golden Lion is remembered truly,” Nimuro said. The Lion smiled and an odd light flickered in his vision.

The Unicorn Champion kept his stance ready. A moment before he had faced Nimuro with the confident stance of a warrior facing an enemy he had long prepared to battle. Now there was only uncertainty, tension. Chagatai feinted left and lunged, swinging his blades in a strange circular pattern. Nimuro stepped to the side and caught one scimitar with the serrated edge of his tessen, then knocked the other aside with his katana and drove his blade toward Chagatai’s mid-section with a vicious counterattack. The Khan wrenched his second blade free of the tessen and brought it down in a swift chop that drove Nimuro’s blade downward into the blood-drenched mud.

The Lion Champion released his blade and landed a savage uppercut that slipped beneath Chagatai’s mempo and caught him directly on the chin, sending the Khan staggering backward a step. Nimuro stepped in with the same speed and, drawing his wakizashi, delivered a devastating upward slash, ripping away a large section of the lacquered plates on Chagatai’s chest and tearing his mempo completely off. A long, jagged cut appeared on the Khan’s face, and blood ran freely down onto the remaining plates on his chest. He lifted his blade to parry Nimuro’s next blow, but the Lion’s attack was a feint, and again the wakizashi tore at Chagatai’s armor, ripping the plates and flesh from his forearm and sending the scimitar spinning into the grass. At the same time, his powerful right hand gripped Chagatai’s wrist in a vice-like hold, keeping his other scimitar held away from the body.

“This is where your war ends, Unicorn,” Nimuro hissed, sheathing his wakizashi and reaching for his lost katana.

Chagatai’s features twisted in rage and he lunged forward, smashing his face against Nimuro’s in a savage blow that left both men dizzy. The Khan did not hesitate, but lunged forward again, this time dropping his shoulder squarely into the Lion’s sternum and pushing forward, driving both men into a heap on the ground.

The two Champions grappled with one another using only their bare hands now, all weapons fallen away and forgotten in the throes of their mutual hatred. Chagatai’s wounds gave Nimuro the clear advantage. The Lion’s strength seemed without limit, and within moments the Lion had his foe in a crushing hold that Chagatai struggled to return. Nimuro’s face twisted in a vicious smile.

“You wish to know the glory of the Right Hand, mongrel?” Nimuro whispered. “Then be crushed by it!” There was a slight green glint in Nimuro’s eyes as he tightened his grip, threatening to snap the Khan’s spine. Chagatai wrenched one arm free of the Lion’s grasp with tremendous effort, seizing Nimuro’s neck and burying his thumb deep in the side of his throat. Nimuro’s eyes widened but his grip only tightened. The two men stared deeply into one another’s eyes, each filled with hatred, each willing the other to die.

“I began this war to show my strength against a Champion,” Chagatai hissed. “I do not know what you are, Matsu Nimuro, but you are no Champion.”

The Lion’s grip began to weaken as he gasped for breath. Nimuro released Chagatai, seizing the crushing arm with both hands. Chagatai reached out quickly with his free hand, seized Nimuro’s wakizashi from its saya, and drew it across the Lion’s stomach. Nimuro staggered backwards with a gasp, coughing blood. A second stroke and the Khan buried the Lion’s sword in his own heart. A chorus of cheers echoed from the Unicorn ranks. Chagatai gasped for breath, trying to shout the command that would overwhelm the Lion before they regrouped, but a clear voice rang above the cheers.

“Warriors of the Right Hand, fall back!”

Ikoma Otemi now sat astride his horse, looming over the Khan. He held Nimuro’s sword, the Celestial Sword of the Lion, high in one hand. He scowled down at the Khan with a look of hatred, but the six White Guardsmen who immediately barred Otemi’s path encouraged the Lion general to follow his own command and withdraw.

The Unicorn warriors all around Chagatai screamed a fearsome battle cry and returned to the attack, their renewed efforts punishing the demoralized Lion. Even as Chagatai retrieved his blades, a familiar form burst through the rear line and approached. “My Khan! Are you injured?”

“I am victorious,” he shouted back to Moto Qing. “The Lion have been wounded, but we are still outnumbered.”

“Then withdraw to the village, my Khan,” Qing replied. “The White Guard will cover the army’s retreat. When Shono and our other reinforcements arrive, the Lion will have no chance.”

“The White Guard cannot hold the Lion army alone,” Chagatai retorted.

“Then punish the Lion for our deaths,” Qing said gravely. “We do not fear the Shi-Tien Yen-Wang’s blessings.”

Chagatai clasped Qing’s shoulder with his bloodied right hand. “You have pleased the Lords of Death,” he told the soldier. “I think that they shall bless your enemies as well.”

Qing said no more, but turned and charged the Lion even as Chagatai accepted a new steed and rode from the front line, weak and slumped in the saddle from loss of blood. The Unicorn had won the day; though their forces in the village were weakened reinforcements would arrive swiftly. The Lion were scattered, defenseless, and with Sukoshi Zutsu in hand the City of the Rich Frog would be theirs within days. The Unicorn had won, but Chagatai’s thoughts weighed heavily upon today’s battle.

What had he won?