By Duty Bound

By Skye Lansing

As the Wolf Clan’s civil war continues, those loyal to the Hayashi Family must face new trials. The plan to contain their adversaries—the Hitomi Family—in Kyoudai Pass is working; however, new threats from unexpected quarters have put them in a precarious position, and their foes have not been idle.

Shiro, a dishonored rōnin leading an ill-equipped conscript unit behind enemy lines, faces the possibility that his force may be incapable of fighting thanks to a clever Hitomi trap. Worse, internal divisions have begun to emerge, compounding the damage. Now he must find a way to rescue those under his command while preserving their will to fight.

Hayashi Seiko’s situation is no less precarious. Commanded by her brother—the clan’s rightful daimyo—to inform Shiro of Oota Kin’s betrayal, she must face an uncaring wilderness with only the aid of her new instructor...but the wilds may not be the greatest danger she faces. Can she meet her brother’s expectations? Or her own?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Skye Lansing
• Release date: Sep 2, 2018
• ISBN: 9781944914042

Skye Lansing

Skye Lansing was born in Alamogordo, New Mexico in 1983. Early on he developed a love for books, cultivated by his mother. This love was eventually cemented when his father caught him reading magazine articles late one night and, in a stroke of brilliance, punished him thereby ensuring that reading was forbidden (thus awesome). Later in his childhood he began to write, mostly to escape from the boredom of his high school courses. The results were, predictably, objectively wretched. In 2002, Skye enrolled in a biology program for college. Over the next five years he discovered an interest in History that shouldn’t have been surprising considering the amount of history documentaries he’d watched while growing up. He continued to write, though without any real intent to finish the projects he started, and briefly considered swapping to an English major when he unexpectedly secured enough credits to graduate with a BS in Biology. With college behind him Skye began to agonize over what to do with himself. The original plan had been to attend a graduate program, but when that fell through he found himself working on many personal writing projects to fill the time as he job hunted. Before long he’d even started on what, at the time, was simply a serial story published on a public web page titled simply "Rohai." The scope of this new project rapidly expanded and evolved until Skye was forced to admit that what he had was no longer a simple series of stories, but rather a full book series. Public updates to "Rohai" ceased while he laid out the groundwork for a new book series, mostly focused on bringing the scope of the project under control in a desperate bid to avoid a tale with kudzu plot. This process proved more difficult than he originally intended, especially in light of initially working full-time. After years of work Skye finally released "In Honor’s Shadow" in 2016, kicking off the beginning of his new Honor’s Path series. He is now chipping away at the second book while simultaneously doing the research for several other projects for the Sci-Fi and Fantasy genres.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

The spears pushed at Shiro’s command, driving back the Hitomi bushi before they could organize an attempt to retake the captured wagon. Considering their opponents, his conscripts performed admirably. By now they’d conducted enough ambushes that everyone knew what to do and swiftly got into the spear wall formation before beginning to slowly roll forward.

Their skills were still sorely lacking—few of his conscripted wolves held their spears properly or maintained the correct stance—but the tight formation helped compensate for those deficiencies, and there was a building confidence in everything they did.

Given the loose formation their enemies had been forced to adopt, it was no surprise that the Hitomi gave ground before the bristling spear tips arrayed before them. They couldn’t even harass his tight formation to hamper the pursuit because their skirmishers had been wiped out during the first moments of the ambush. Instead, the enemy infantry fell back out of melee range to regroup. Then, once Shiro’s dense formation of spears caught up, the Hitomi slowly retreated.

And retreated.

And retreated.

He blinked as they willingly surrendered more and more ground to his conscripts, then ordered his men to halt. The Hitomi withdraw continued for several more steps before it stopped as well, but the enemy troops seemed content to remain stationary rather than attempt to push back even as Shiro’s archers looted the captured wagon.

Ears back, Shiro scanned the area for any indication that the enemy was trying to lure his spears out of position, and upon finding nothing examined the enemy once more. Since he wasn’t pressing them any longer and they weren’t counterattacking, they should have changed formation, either forming a spear wall to challenge his or by maneuvering to exploit his lack of flexibility and mobility. At the very least they could stretch their line in an attempt to reach his flanks when the fighting resumed. Instead, they merely straightened ranks and held firm, content to remain as they were.

He frowned. Something was wrong. He could feel it. Every instinct he had was screaming danger, but try as he might he couldn’t see the threat.

Out of habit, he searched his men for Yasumura, but of course, his gunsō was nowhere to be found. He’d chosen to divide his force to make it easier to hit the numerous supply trains the Hitomi were trying to shove through Kyoudai Pass, after all. The old bushi was leading the other half somewhere up ahead, far beyond any chance to contact him.

Regarding the enemy’s line once more, he tried to determine why they were letting him have his way. Why had the guard detail been so light on archers? The Hitomi had practically begged him to hit this wagon. Was it a simple oversight, and now the enemy officer was unwilling to risk additional men? Or did they see no need to fight when he couldn’t possibly stop every wagon train that was following behind? They weren’t frightened of his men, were they?

It didn’t make sense. Even an untrained eye could tell his troops were peasants just recently pressed into service. Their movements lacked the coordination of properly trained soldiers, and although Lord Hayashi Isamu had generously provided quality weapons only the bushi that had been loaned to him wore armor. Thus far his raids had been remarkably successful, but only because he never engaged unless the conditions allowed him to fight in the way his conscripts had been drilled. One unexpected blow would shatter them.

He didn’t like it.

After some thought, he decided to pull his formation away from the enemy’s line. If they had something planned, he wanted to have some space between his conscripts and the more dangerous Hitomi bushi.

The process was slow. Troops in a tightly packed spear wall needed to be careful not to trip on one another whenever they moved. Doing so while walking backward was especially challenging, but his troops gradually widened the gap between the two lines. Shiro split his attention between making sure his formation remained orderly and watching how the enemy commander responded to his newest move. If they didn’t want to fight then they would likely—

A command to advance ran across the enemy’s line and the Hitomi bushi surged forward before he could complete the thought. Although the enemy had remained carefully out of reach before, now they pressed close enough to exchange spear thrusts with his conscripts. Those in front stopped to defend themselves and Shiro promptly ordered the remainder to halt before his formation could begin to spread out. Another command went down the enemy line the moment his men stopped to face the attack and they pulled away once more.

A displeased rumble slipped from Shiro as he began to understand what his opponent was thinking. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to fight; they just didn’t want to fight his way. By refusing to form a spear wall of their own they could outmaneuver his tightly packed formation and wait for a chance to disorganize his inexperienced force. He could risk putting more space in his own formation to compensate, but while that would let his conscripts match the enemy’s speed he doubted they could respond to his orders quickly enough for it to matter. The spear wall’s plodding pace complimented their ability to react, and if he began giving orders faster than his conscripts could obey his force might dissolve around him without the enemy having to do anything. Even if he kept his men organized, any fighting that happened would quickly devolve into a general melee which favored the more experienced bushi.

Fortunately, there were other options. There were always other options.

Ryo, he shouted, turning his head so his voice would carry to the archers behind him. Come here.

The young wolf that served as his aide turned and trotted over before the words had finished leaving his mouth. Although the light breastplate Ryo wore marked him as a bushi, Shiro sometimes thought of the other wolf as a pup; always eager to please and at times impulsive. It didn’t help that Ryo’s fur, a shade of brown lighter than Shiro’s own, paired with those equally soft eyes gave the illusion that he’d barely reached maturity.

I’m here, Ryo said, almost cheerfully.

Is there any chance we could signal Hara Kaito’s cavalry? he asked. We may need their help to escape.

Ryo opened his mouth, then hesitated and began to look around. Shiro let his aide consider the question while he focused on the enemy in case they decided to do something new. When Ryo turned back, his ears were down.

I doubt he will hear our signal arrow, sir, Ryo said as his head dipped. We haven’t heard from him in hours. The sound won’t carry far with those ridges blocking it.

Shiro bit his tongue and reexamined the area, then realized Ryo was correct. This section of the pass gradually snaked its way through a series of ridges that protruded from the nearby peaks. It wasn’t too pronounced, but the winding course made tracking troop movements difficult. That was partly why he’d chosen nearly a dozen ambush sites near there. Just another layer of protection to make it more challenging for the enemy to follow him.

Unfortunately, that made it harder for Hara Kaito to keep an eye on his forces as well. In fact, Hara Kaito might be fairly close without being able to see what was happening. That also meant he couldn’t know if a signal arrow would be heard. At that moment he had no better vantage point than the Hitomi commander he was skirmishing with.

An icy hand took hold of Shiro’s stomach and twisted, every hair on his body beginning to stand on end. He’d been wrong. The enemy wasn’t trying to disrupt his formation. Their plan was much simpler: they were fixing him in place. They didn’t want to fight because they expected something would happen to change the situation, and he’d allowed himself to be suckered in.

Ryo, tell the archers to light the wagon, he said, mind racing to form a plan.

Sir? the young bushi asked. We aren’t done—

Yes we are, he growled, searching the nearby woods for any sign that enemy troops were trying to conceal themselves. Movement, startled animals or birds, anything. We need to leave now before we are trapped.

Ryo drew back as if he’d been shoved. Are you sure? he asked even as he signaled the other archers to set the captured wagon ablaze. I don’t see anything.

Which was exactly the problem. Shiro couldn’t command a retreat without knowing where the threat lurked or he risked sticking their necks even deeper into the noose. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the surrounding noise and recall his maps of the area. He pictured the contours of the land around them, then imagined how he would ambush an enemy that was already pinned for him.

His eyes snapped open and he looked up the slope on the left flank. Nothing. Turning the other way, he checked the opposite slope off to the right and behind them. He was about to check the front left when he saw a cluster of birds rise just above the canopy before circling back to land in the upper branches.

There they are, he growled and looked to the left flank again to ensure it was clear. Ryo, I want you to take your archers up that way. Set them up and begin to fire once you can do so without too much risk to my spears.

You’re sure? We won’t have a clear line with all that brush, the young bushi said with a frown.

I only need you to give our enemies something else to worry about long enough for me to disengage.

I’ll see what I can do then.

He watched Ryo scamper back to the other archers. The first traces of flame began licking the captured wagon not long after. Satisfied, Shiro turned back to his men and called for them to slowly back up once more. As expected, the Hitomi bushi eagerly assaulted his formation.

Shiro halted the retreat so they could fight the enemy’s push, then ordered another withdraw the moment he saw the Hitomi pull back. Once more they moved to harass his formation, and again he let his conscripts stop to fend off their foes. Again and again, the process repeated while Ryo and the archers ensured the wagon would be consumed before they entered the woods.

The skirmish took on a steady rhythm. Back up, stop, fight. Back up, stop, fight. Step by step he maneuvered his formation into place until at last a few scattered arrows began to pepper the enemy’s exposed flank.

He smiled and used the momentary confusion the arrows caused to put more space between his conscripts and the enemy bushi. The Hitomi officer in command tried to close the gap, but more arrows arrived just in time to disrupt the Hitomi formation. Some arrows found their mark and the left flank of the enemy’s formation began to lag as the bushi tried to avoid the steady rain of missiles landing among them.

Halt, Shiro commanded just before the right half of the Hitomi formation made contact with his spear wall.

Though Shiro longed to give the next command, he waited with ears perked in anticipation. Whoever was in command of the Hitomi bushi would just now be noticing that something had gone wrong. With only that portion of his line engaged even bushi would be endangered by the fighting. Then the enemy commander would realize the cause and be forced to make a decision. He could commit fully and hope to overwhelm the conscripts’ spear wall. He could also continue as if nothing had changed and accept the added risk of fighting while archers punished his every move. Or, he could regroup and reassess the situation. Regardless of which option he picked, the first step would be the same.

Seconds crawled past as Shiro counted his heartbeats, his attention focused on the enemy in front of him while he prayed that those creeping up behind remained too far to pounce. Finally, he heard what he was listening for: a command to disengage and reform spreading over the enemy’s line. He wasn’t sure what the enemy commander planned, but he didn’t intend to wait to learn.

Spears advance, he ordered, waving his katana forward to emphasize the command. Do not let them escape.

A ruse, but he needed to give the Hitomi something else to worry about. Perhaps his unexpected shift in momentum would concern them. They’d studied his tactics. This trap proved that, so they had to be aware of how often he held Hara Kaito’s light cavalry in reserve until there was a chance to hit an exposed flank. Even hardened troops would be crushed if caught by such a classic hammer and anvil maneuver.

But his conscripts remained in the unwieldy spear wall formation. They could chase the Hitomi, but he couldn’t force a fight unless the enemy was willing to stand their ground, and neither formation would be pinned unless they fought. The Hitomi had an opportunity to avoid the possibility of being caught in a deadly pincer if they retreated now. The bluff depended on how much danger the enemy commander thought he was in.

Shiro gripped his katana more tightly and watched the enemy formation flounder momentarily in the face of his unexpected advance coupled with more arrows landing on their flank. His conscripts made progress slowly at first, unable to make headway even though the Hitomi bushi remained in a relatively loose formation. With every second his spirits sank as he began to wonder if the enemy officer had seen through the deception.

Then, to his relief, a command went out from the Hitomi formation calling for them to withdraw. They broke contact with his men and swiftly opened the distance enough that his conscripts would be unable to catch them. Once safe, they retired to the brush across the road from his archers and took cover in the thick foliage. Shiro didn’t question his good fortune and promptly called for a retreat of his own while Ryo’s archers discouraged any attempt to pursue.

As usual, his conscripts broke rank the moment he gave the order, a bad habit he still hadn’t managed to break in the limited time they’d been under his command. His one consolation was that the conscripts didn’t disintegrate into an unruly mob, but he wasn’t keen to test their resilience while unprepared either. Fortunately, the Hitomi had chosen to avoid risking cavalry with guard duty. Even a handful of experienced samurai could wreak havoc on his modest unit after they broke formation.

Ryo’s archers rejoined him as his conscripts climbed the valley’s southern slope, clawing their way up the mountainside while they still had an opportunity to escape. With every step some of the excitement seeped out of Shiro’s body, leaving behind a nauseating disquiet over what he’d nearly allowed. His successes had made him complacent. That had been much too close.

That was amazing, Ryo proclaimed, trotting up beside him. We didn’t manage to get much, but seeing the enemy give the field to conscripts was worth it.

We have given them plenty of reason to be cautious when fighting us, Shiro said, unable to match is aide’s cheerful tone.

Well, shall we return to camp to drop off these supplies now that we’ve gotten away?

Instead of answering, Shiro looked back into the pass. The expected Hitomi reinforcements had finally emerged. The largest portion moved to help secure the wagon while a group of light infantry splintered off to chase his conscripts. Again he reflected on how very close it had been. His men could be fighting an impossible battle right now had anything gone even slightly different. Obviously, the Hitomi had hidden their counter-ambush in the area sometime during the past week. If they’d kept those troops a little closer to the road he would be finished. Or if the officer in command of the supply train had been willing to gamble. Or if the enemy’s reinforcements had included cavalry. Or, or, or…

I shouldn’t have fallen for that.

We cannot return while those Hitomi troops shadow us, he said finally, then considered their path and tried to remember his maps again. I think we should encounter steeper terrain if we continue moving west. That may be enough to convince our pursuers to let us go.

Is this something else we’re going to be dealing with from now on? Ryo asked.

Shiro nodded. Most likely.

The young bushi’s ears splayed and he slowed momentarily to look at the enemy behind them. I didn’t expect them to give us nearly this much trouble, he admitted, hurrying to catch back up.

Shiro clenched his jaw to keep from commenting. He hadn’t either. Not this quickly.

I never claimed Hitomi Ojin was a bad general. I am sure he knew the risks of pushing ahead so aggressively and was ready in case we tried something like this, he said as confidently as he could muster. We are accomplishing our goal by keeping so many of his men occupied even if these moves allow him to get supplies through.

Maybe, but I wish this stayed as easy as the first one, Ryo grinned fiercely. We hurt them really bad that time.

Then start thinking of new ways to hurt them. After today, I think it is time to reconsider how we are fighting.

Easier said than done. Ryo hadn’t been wrong about how quickly the Hitomi had adapted to the ambushes. After the first one, the enemy started sending smaller wagon trains through under heavier guard which made it difficult to capture any additional supplies. They still occasionally caught the escort unprepared, but even then they were only securing enough to delay the inevitable.

It was also getting more difficult to set up the ambushes. Enemy patrols had picked up noticeably and the guards had begun to sweep the areas near the road. The enemy had also preemptively cut down every tree that might have been used to block the road, doubtless to avoid the situation they’d found themselves in during the first ambush. In some places, they’d even gone so far as to clear the underbrush to make concealing troops impossible.

But he’d been honest when he’d said that the new precautions the Hitomi were taking served his purpose. The heavier guard, the patrols, and the work to make it more difficult for him to launch ambushes all meant that Hitomi Ojin was being forced to devote soldiers to keeping his supply lines open instead of placing them on the front. Meanwhile, the smaller supply trains ensured that anything that did get through was less substantial than it might have been. He’d hoped those two problems would keep the Hitomi army off-balance long enough for Lord Hayashi’s troops to regroup.

The attempted counter-ambush worried him, however. Although he’d managed to avoid the trap, it signaled a sharp change in the enemy’s tactics. They weren’t simply reacting anymore. Perhaps it had been a bad stroke of luck, but there was a definite chance he’d become predictable. That particular convoy had been the perfect way to draw him in, and he knew the Hitomi would learn from this attempt.

He couldn’t even call it an outright failure. From now on he had to consider the possibility that he was walking into another trap. Every ambush would be another wager to see if this would be the time something went wrong. The Hitomi only had to guess right once. He needed to be right every single time. Those were bad odds by any measure.

As the march continued, he considered what changes he could make to counter the increasing Hitomi resistance. Numerous schemes sprang to mind, but each depended on a trick that would only work a few times before the enemy figured it out. Good ways to tip a single fight in his favor, but not something he dared base his strategy upon. If he wanted to throw the enemy off balance again he needed to do something radically different. The question was: what?

His main constraint was the limited number of troops he possessed. In a couple of ways, that helped him. Fewer troops meant fewer mouths to feed, so they were able to scrape by on their meager supplies. A smaller force was also more difficult to track down, especially when it wanted to remain hidden. That said, with fewer wolves at his disposal he couldn’t afford to take risks that might result in casualties. It also limited how many ambushes he could lay at once. That had been his primary motivation when splitting his command, but he’d clearly been overambitious.

In fact, his inability to strike at several places served to highlight how understrength his troops were. Perhaps his tiny force was difficult to pinpoint, but any fool who plotted his activities would have a good idea of his camp’s general location. Hitomi Ojin was no fool. If he focused his efforts on covering just the places he knew were dangerous, it would be easy to fill the area with enough soldiers to make any action risky.

Shiro could always move his force to another location and attack from there, but the Hitomi could shift their focus with equal ease and time spent moving camp was time that couldn’t be used to harass Hitomi Ojin’s supply lines. Somehow he needed to change this struggle in a way that would paralyze the Hitomi’s supply caravans without significant risk.

He was still figuring out how to accomplish that when Ryo interrupted his brooding. They’ve stopped trying to catch us.

So soon? he asked and turned to check behind them.

Ryo stopped beside him, panting lightly as he pointed. They’re still following, he clarified, but they’ve slowed down. I think they’re making sure we leave.

Shiro lifted one hand to shield his eyes from the sun and followed Ryo’s finger until he spotted the enemy troops for himself. They did seem to be taking their time. He watched a moment longer, then dropped his hand to the hilt of his katana to trace the grip while he thought.

They may hope we will lead them back to our camp. The possibility made the fur on the back of his neck stand on end.

Do you think they’d try that? Ryo asked.

I am not sure, Shiro said as he turned to catch up with the others, but I do not wish to take any more chances.

Well, if they don’t hurry we’ll leave them behind before long.

Shiro stared at his aide. How much longer do you think the conscripts can maintain this pace?

We aren’t going that fast, Ryo protested.

It is not a question of how fast. The men will be too exhausted to do anything unless we slow down, Shiro explained patiently. The troops that are following us don’t need to get close if they only want to know where we are going. As long as they have us in sight, we cannot return. We cannot even risk heading in the same general direction.

As he explained, Ryo missed a step and stumbled forward. We can’t go back?

Shiro shook his head. Not until we lose them, which seems unlikely to happen before nightfall.

Ryo’s ears began to wilt as he considered the implications. Well, I suppose staying up later than usual won’t be too bad.

I don’t intend to turn back to camp until morning, Shiro said softly, beginning to feel heavy with exhaustion at the prospect. It is too dangerous to take half measures at this point.

The young bushi whimpered, causing Shiro to look over in surprise. Their eyes met briefly before Ryo broke the contact, ears folded back. For a moment Shiro considered questioning the slip, hardly able to believe he’d actually heard it. After a moment he reconsidered. Why call attention to something that embarrassed the younger wolf?

Do not worry. There will be plenty of time to catch up on sleep tomorrow, he said at last.

Everyone is going to wonder where we are.

Shiro pursed his lips. He hadn’t considered that. They were supposed to return before sunset. Hara Kaito’s samurai would take his absence in stride; most of them only tolerated being under his command because they had to. The remaining bushi and conscripts might not handle it nearly so well. Hopefully, Yasumura wouldn’t have too many problems.

Assuming that they haven’t had problems already, of course.

He tried, unsuccessfully, to banish the thought. Considering how he’d just brushed with death, there was no telling what challenges they might have faced. He only hoped Yasumura had handled them better than he had.

CHAPTER TWO

A breeze picked up as the sun sank toward the horizon, sweeping through the pass and bringing enough of a chill to nip at any flesh uncovered by fur or clothing. The nightly winds that coursed through Kyoudai Pass no longer surprised Seiko, but Miyuki hadn’t picked this campsite for its ability to shield them from the elements. If that were the case they would be at the bottom of the pass where the winds were weaker, not clinging to a patch of ground halfway up the mountain that was barely flat enough to accommodate their bedrolls.

That would mean sleeping near the road and the Hitomi patrols that guarded it, however. The two of them couldn’t hope to prevail in a fight against such odds, so Seiko tolerated the cold even though it easily penetrated her summer fur and made her sore muscles cramp.

As if to taunt her, a small fire crackled invitingly not a dozen paces away. The scent of its smoke teased her nose, promising comfort if she came closer. Only her adherence to the nightly routine she’d adopted kept her in place, focused on the gentle whisk-whisk-whisk of the stiff-bristled horse brush as she combed Ryuunosuke’s chestnut fur.

She found it peculiar that such a simple ritual calmed her nerves despite the dull aches that covered her body and the gnawing emptiness in her belly, but the familiar motions brought to mind happier memories. Of her excitement when her brother, Isamu, had presented the large stallion as a gift, and how eagerly she’d absorbed his lessons on how to care for the steed in the days that followed. He’d been adamant that she care for Ryuunosuke herself, always couched as a lesson in responsibility.

That had meant daily rides and taking the time to groom her horse personally, not that she minded either chore. She’d seen it as a way to prove that she took her training as an onna-bugeisha seriously despite the constant derision she encountered. Escaping the constant scrutiny of courtly life was just a touch of honey to sweeten the deal.

Now it had taken on an urgency she’d never anticipated. The evidence Isamu had placed in her care needed to reach Shiro. Failure risked not only her life but her brother’s place as daimyo of the Wolf Clan as well. That much became abundantly clear the night she and Miyuki had embarked on this journey.

The older woman had set a vigorous pace from the beginning, but a group of samurai in the service of the traitor Oota Kin still managed to catch up. Fortunately, Miyuki knew how to shake the pursuers off their tails. A tense silence had hung over them during that first night as they doubled back, crisscrossing their path over and over until the scent trail became a confounding snarl. Twice the samurai got so close they’d been forced to hide, holding their breath until the danger passed.

Amazingly, there was no sign of pursuit by sunrise, but Miyuki had kept them on the move ever since. Seiko wasn’t inclined to argue.

The soft swish of the horse brush paused as Seiko recalled the exhaustion she’d experienced that first night. She’d practically collapsed the moment they’d made camp. Only the lingering threat of the Hitomi kept her going even that long. Her current fatigue paled in comparison.

There you go, she murmured once she finished grooming Ryuunosuke, giving him an affectionate pat before draping a blanket across his back. All ready for bed.

Ryuunosuke acknowledged her efforts with a dismissive snort, too busy stripping a nearby sapling of its leaves to pay her any heed. She smiled and gave him another pat before walking over to Miyuki’s horse. The smaller, bay roan whickered at her approach, but like Ryuunosuke remained too preoccupied snapping up whatever food was within reach to concern itself with her.

We need to find water tomorrow, Seiko said as she checked the other horse. They also need grass. They have been eating too many leaves lately.

Miyuki looked up from the campfire, head tilted. She had yet to remove her armor, and the dull black of it served as a strong contrast to the older woman’s sandy brown fur and yellow eyes. Like Seiko, she kept her hair in a single, tight braid. At times Seiko was still surprised that anyone with such an unexceptional background had so much to teach, but the older wolf was both experienced and tenacious. It was impossible not to admire.

I will see what can be done. How much grass do they need?

A lot. Seiko frowned to herself as she thought. I would leave them out all day if we had a pasture, but they could eat their fill with an hour or two in a field.

I would prefer to keep moving.

Seiko knew exactly what worried the older woman. They’d bypassed the majority of the Hitomi army that was chasing her brother days ago, but there were still enemy troops crawling along the road that snaked through the mountains. If they remained in one spot for too long, especially out in the open, someone would eventually notice them. Miyuki had gone so far as to insist they remove the Hayashi mon from her armor in the hope that a pair of wandering rōnin would be left unmolested if discovered.

We could keep near the edges of a meadow, Seiko suggested. We will not be as exposed, and the horses can eat while we walk them.

I will consider it, Miyuki said as she began to stir the coals. If not, we can find someplace with more grass when we camp tomorrow. The horses can recover after we have found Shiro’s wolves.

With how long this is taking, and how much we are riding, it is only a matter of time before they get sick, Seiko warned. I know it is not ideal, but the horses will be too weak to help us when we need them if we are not careful.

Miyuki continued to stir the cinders without looking up, slowly spreading them over the ground until they formed a shallow bed of cherry red embers. When the last hints of flame vanished she began to lay the paltry selection of tubers they’d dug up earlier across the coals. The roots began sizzling on the heat as the fresh smoke picked up the scent of the cooking vegetables.

We will see, the older woman said at last as she sat back. By now we should be near where Shiro’s forces are camped. I intend to push hard until we reach him; otherwise, I see no reason why we cannot give the horses a chance to recuperate.

Seiko nodded quietly and closed her eyes, relishing the scent of the tubers for a moment. She didn’t know what the plants were—wild yams or potatoes, she supposed—but with how little food they’d found since striking out it hardly mattered. The prospect of eating anything was enough to make her mouth water in anticipation, and her stomach began to ache with almost-forgotten hunger pains. Unable to resist any longer, Seiko left the horses to join Miyuki beside the fire as their dinner cooked.

While settling in, she couldn’t resist eyeing the wrapped bundle Miyuki kept at her side. It wasn’t much to look at; just a rolled blanket secured with three lengths of rope. Too large to fit into her teacher’s pack, but small enough to tie to the saddle. Whatever it contained, Miyuki refused to let it out of her sight.

When are you going to tell me about the package my brother gave you? Seiko wondered aloud to distract herself from her belly’s protests.

I was unaware you were curious, Miyuki said as she pulled a freshly cut branch across her lap, then began to peel the bark away with her tantō. To be honest, I do not know much. Lord Hayashi instructed me to give it directly to Shiro once we found him. From his tone, I presumed he did not wish anyone to know its contents.

Including me, Seiko thought bitterly while she watched Miyuki work.

Another try at a bow? Are you sure that is wise when the last one exploded?

Miyuki chuckled as her knife carved into the wood. It did not explode; the upper limb simply snapped.

As if that is any better. We could have been hurt, she said, leaving out that Miyuki nearly had been since one of the wood fragments struck her in the face. Why take the risk?

The older woman made another cut, shaving away a thin layer of wood that curled upon itself before falling away. Despite her reservations, Seiko couldn’t help noticing how steady the knife was in Miyuki’s hands. A proper bower’s technique was probably more refined, but there was no denying that Miyuki wielded the tiny blade as if it were an extension of her arm. Sometimes it seemed that was true of any weapon the older woman held.

There are times when taking a measured risk can significantly improve your outlook, Miyuki said as she lifted the wood to look down the length of the most recent cut. I do not know about you, but I would enjoy the chance to catch some meat. I am not about to give up because my first attempt failed.

Seiko’s mouth practically tingled at the suggestion. Do you really think a crude bow will let you bring down a deer?

Unlikely, Miyuki said, a faint smile on her lips. I doubt any deer remain in the valley anyway with how many troops have moved through recently. No, I was thinking of smaller game. Rabbit or fowl.

Rabbit, Seiko repeated and wrinkled her muzzle.

Even as hungry as she was, the prospect of eating such base game nearly stifled her appetite. She’d heard that some areas of the empire considered rabbit suitable fare, but she couldn’t imagine how. Among wolves, peasants sometimes lowered themselves to eating one, but only as a last resort. Typically it was only hunted for sport with the aid of hawks or falcons which were allowed to have the kill. Humbling herself to such a degree was difficult to picture, and if word ever got out among the court…

A fresh wisp of black smoke carrying a charred scent caught her attention and she snatched the tubers from the coals. She singed the fur on her fingers in her haste, briefly filling the air with the acrid stench of burnt hair. Seiko’s nose wrinkled, but a light breeze carried the worst of it away as she tested the tubers with a claw, pleased to find they were nice and tender. She swallowed to keep herself from drooling, then began to divide the meager offerings into two piles while she waited for them to cool enough to eat.

You mentioned that you thought Shiro’s camp cannot be far away. Why not descend into the valley? He is fighting the Hitomi, so his camp must be somewhere near enough to strike at them, Seiko said, then pulled her braid over her shoulder and gave it a tug in an attempt to ignore the aroma the tubers were giving off.

You are correct, Miyuki said as she began another cut, but descending into the valley would bring you closer to the Hitomi. I prefer to avoid doing that unless we have a clear destination. That means finding the camp and making sure it belongs to Shiro. After coming this far, I refuse to accidentally deliver you to Hitomi Ojin.

The mere idea made Seiko shiver. She’d been worried enough about being forced to marry into the Oota Family. The Hitomi Family was unlikely to be any better.

How do we do that? she asked before her thoughts could wander any further down that frightening trail.

Miyuki paused mid-cut, then shook her head. I am unsure. Once we find a camp we will think of something.

That sounded like wishful thinking, but Seiko held her tongue. Instead, she gave in and prodded one of the tubers, then carefully speared it with a claw and lifted it to her lips. She bit gingerly, ready to spit it back into her hand if it proved too hot. A heavy, earthy flavor flooded her mouth. It practically melted away, going down easily when she swallowed.

They are ready, she said needlessly.

With that, Miyuki set aside the branch she’d been carving, gingerly plucked one of the vegetables from the pile in front of her, and blew on it. They ate silently for a time, taking care not to burn themselves on the still-steaming tubers. Seiko tried not to think about how little there was when split between them. It was a relief to have anything to fill her stomach, but