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    Streaming Dawn: A Story of the Fated Blades
    Streaming Dawn: A Story of the Fated Blades
    Streaming Dawn: A Story of the Fated Blades
    Ebook129 pages2 hours

    Streaming Dawn: A Story of the Fated Blades

    By Steve Bein

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    About this ebook

    Lord Itsumi Akiyama is in trouble. He was a conspirator in the murder of Oda Nobunaga, Japan's most powerful warlord in 1582. Worse, he is responsible for the death of a disciple of the Wind, Japan’s deadliest ninja clan. Enter Kaida, the Wind’s most dangerous agent. She seeks to avenge her fallen protégé, but there is a complication: once she kills Akiyama, the Wind must figure out how to replace him. He occupies a key position in the inner circle of Oda’s successor, Hashiba Hideyoshi, who is set to conquer all of Japan. The Wind wants a puppet next to Hideyoshi, and Kaida is tasked with putting that puppet in place.

    Kaida resents her assignment. The chosen puppet is Itsumi Kyusaku, brother and successor to Akiyama. Kyusaku took part in the murder of Kaida’s protégé, and so Kaida wants him dead. But his only rival for the position in Hideyoshi’s council is Okuma Tetsurō, a samurai with a bounty on his head—a bounty placed by the Wind. Kaida respects Okuma and has no desire to kill him. Moreover, she’s not even sure she can. His sword, Glorious Victory Unsought, is a legendary Inazuma blade. With it, Okuma is undefeatable.

    But Kaida has a blade of her own. Streaming Dawn can fend off death itself, though at a bitter cost. It might even defend her from Glorious Victory Unsought, if she and Okuma should cross swords. So armed, she takes on the most difficult mission of her career. She cannot allow Kyusaku to come to power, but if she allows Okuma to rise in his stead, it will be Kaida’s head on the chopping block.

    Since she cannot choose Kyusaku and she cannot choose Okuma, Kaida has no choice but to do what she does best: achieve the impossible, proving herself once again to be the Wind’s canniest, deadliest ninja.

    This companion novella to the Fated Blades series finds beloved characters from those novels in a new and dangerous adventure set in medieval Japan. Bein's talent for combining rich historic detail with powerful action and magic is yet again on display in this intriguing historical fantasy read. Fans of the Fated Blades series will enjoy revisiting their favorite characters, and for those new to the series, it's the perfect place to dive into centuries of intrigue, magic, honor, and swordplay.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSteve Bein
    Release dateMar 6, 2015
    ISBN9781311594150
    Streaming Dawn: A Story of the Fated Blades
    Author

    Steve Bein

    As a philosopher, Steve Bein is an ethicist and a specialist in Asian philosophy. As a fiction writer, Steve is an award-winning author of science fiction and fantasy. His novels in the Fated Blades series have been met with widespread critical acclaim. His short stories and novellas run the gamut from hard SF to fantasy.

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      Book preview

      Streaming Dawn - Steve Bein

      STREAMING DAWN

      A Story of the Fated Blades

      Steve Bein

      Smashwords Edition

      Copyright 2015 Steve Bein

      Cover art & design by Michele Heidel

      Type design by Patrick Kang

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

      All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced in any manner without written permission of the author, except for the use of brief passages for review purposes.

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Author's Note

      Other Titles by Steve Bein

      Praise for the Fated Blades series

      AZUCHI-MOMOYAMA ERA, THE YEAR 15 (1582 CE)

      Chapter 1

      Itsumi Akiyama stroked the hilt of his sword, Wave Breaker, and wondered if Inazuma steel was sharp enough to cut demon flesh.

      A demon had been hunting him for three days, and for three days he’d kept a step or two ahead of it. But no longer. Now he was out of room and out of time.

      There, my lord! The largest of his bodyguards, a man everyone called the Anvil, wheeled his horse around and pointed up the steep slope of the mountain. Yukimatsu Castle! We’ve made it.

      Walls are no protection against the soldiers of hell, Akiyama said. Despite his dour tone, he had to admit that he was glad to see the castle. The snow was falling thick and heavy, and they’d been riding through it half the night. If Akiyama had to make his final stand, he would rather do it indoors, warmed by a hearth and a belly full of rice.

      Yukimatsu promised exactly that—that and more, to be sure. It was renowned for its mazelike outer wall, which scrambled at crazed angles up and down the slopes of the mountain. The watch commander had only to give the order and scores of samurai would man that wall. There was an inner bailey as well, and looming seven stories over that stood the central donjon. Each floor of the donjon connected to the next only by a single staircase as steep as a ladder. Waiting atop each ladder were fearless women armed with long, razor sharp naginata. They too were samurai, and would give their lives defending their station.

      Akiyama estimated it would take no less than two thousand men to take the castle in a direct assault. Half that many would die just breaching the gate. Akiyama himself had conquered the castle ten years earlier with just two hundred men, but he’d made a pact with an indomitable ally: time. He’d outwaited the garrison and simply starved them out.

      The demon that pursued him now had no such patience. Nor did it have two thousand samurai at its beck and call. But Akiyama still saw Yukimatsu as a trap. It was the mightiest fortress for a hundred ri in any direction, but he would not find refuge within its walls. He would only put himself in a corner with no way out.

      But it was a trap for the demon too.

      Come, my lord, said the Anvil, a broad-chested giant with a voice like an oak barrel’s. He was flanked by the Hammer, the second of Akiyama’s famed bodyguards, whose shaggy beard had gathered so much snow that the man was hardly recognizable as human. The two of them had earned their names on the very day Akiyama seized Yukimatsu for his own. When the castle’s defenders made their last desperate charge, the Hammer and the Anvil took their stand outside the great gate and crushed every foe that came between them.

      Akiyama put his heels to his horse, followed by the rest of his personal guard. To his right rode Kawamura Kizaemon, called Kanzeon by nearly everyone. He was a patient fighter, and almost always killed with a single blow. Hence his nickname: Kanzeon was the buddha of mercy.

      On Akiyama’s left rode Machida the Hornet, who insisted on adding the Hornet to his name for no other reason than that the rest of Akiyama’s retinue had nicknames and he wanted one too. Machida was the very opposite of Kanzeon, a firebrand with no more patience than a virgin’s cock. Virgin’s Cock was the nickname Kanzeon wanted to give him, but Akiyama needed to keep Machida happy. He’d hired the young man as a scout and tracker, and would have guessed that an impatient fellow was of negligible use in either capacity. But the Hornet was as cunning as they came, especially in the skills Akiyama now needed most: concealing tracks and eluding pursuit.

      Now the snow spoiled any such efforts, but Akiyama suspected it made little difference. It was no earthly sense that kept the demon on their trail. This creature had followed them through every twist and turn.

      The wind whispered through snow-covered pines as Akiyama and his retinue approached. Singing over the wind came the peal of a bell. There was motion on the battlements, and a small glowing slit appeared where the castle met the road. It widened into a rectangle of shimmering light. Someone had opened the wicket gate, a tiny door set into the great gate, so small that a man had to stoop to pass through. Now someone stepped through it bearing a torch. His other hand rested casually on the pommel of his katana.

      Who goes there? the man bellowed. Though he tried to sound intimidating, there was no mistaking the mirth in his voice.

      You know damn well who it is, shouted Machida, but Akiyama silenced him with a swat from his riding crop.

      It can only be my father, said the man at the gate. No one else is stubborn enough to ride in this weather.

      Good evening, Hiro, Akiyama said. Open your gate; I won’t have these horses stand outside in the cold.

      Itsumi Akihiro nodded, smiled, and strode forward to take his father’s reins. The boy was overconfident—and no longer a boy, if Akiyama was honest with himself. Akiyama didn’t feel old, but Hiro was already thirty, with a wife and three young daughters. Garrison duty was perfect for him. Ten years ago, he’d begged to be a part of the campaign to crack open Yukimatsu, but overconfidence was no virtue in conducting a siege. That called for caution and patience. On the other hand, to hold off a siege one had to hold off despair, and for that nothing was better than overconfidence. That was why Akiyama stationed a cocksure family man like Hiro to hold his hard-won castle. No one else could do it better, even if the price was a disrespectful joke or two on a cold winter’s night.

      Some generals were at their best in the vanguard, others in the reserve. Some were valuable in prolonged campaigns, others in lightning-fast assaults. Akiyama’s gift was knowing which was which. It was because of insights like this that Hashiba Hideyoshi, the mightiest daimyo in the empire, had promoted Akiyama to the rank of chief quartermaster. Other generals might think managing supply lines and calculating rations were duties unbecoming of a samurai, but Akiyama knew it was a soldier’s stomach, not his sword arm, that won wars.

      The same care that earned him his rank also went to choosing his bodyguards and his battleground. Now he could only wait for his enemy and hope he’d made the right choices.

      We received a rider, Hiro said as Akiyama dismounted. He said you’re under hot pursuit.

      Cold pursuit, on a night like this. But relentless all the same. And not of this world, I fear. Akiyama loosened Wave Breaker in its sheath. Expect an assassination attempt before the night is out.

      Hiro allowed his father to duck through the wicket gate first, then hurried through and motioned toward the keep. The moon viewing deck is seven stories up, he said. No assassin will penetrate that far. This time of year it’s boarded up tight—warm enough to sleep off this cold, and to enjoy a meal first, if you like. I can wake the girls. They’ll be happy to see their grandfather.

      I’ll say yes to the meal and no to the rest. Do wake your daughters, though, and your wife, and bring them to your moon-viewing deck. Put every door under guard. If I guess rightly, the demon comes for me alone, but better safe than sorry.

      Demon? Hiro wrinkled his brow, both amused and bemused.

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