Children of the Wind

It was another countless day amongst countless days at the head of the Baraunghar column, and today Shinjo Shui found himself looking out over the flowing water of the River of the Unexpected Hero.

“Why have you stopped, Shui-san?” The familiar voice of his friend and companion, Shinjo Nakamuri, reached his ears. It was only then that he realized that he had drawn in the reins and caused Nishikaze to come to a stop by the bank of the river.

“You’ve heard the stories, and have participated in the annual celebrations at Shiro Shinjo, Nakamuri-san. I was thinking about what must have possessed the peasant to stand up against the beasts of the Shadowlands, and of his bravery. I’ve never been here before.” His reply came hastily as he tried to find a reason that wouldn’t cause his old friend to tease him.

“Yes, well, that farmer certainly moved faster than you do,” came the inevitable teasing response of his friend. “If you take too long, the column will catch up and the Gunso will have our hides.”

At those words, Shui ushered Nishikaze forward to continue on the path laid out to them by their Gunso for the day’s travel. Riding at a walk, they were careful not to outpace the columns too much, as while the Unicorn were able to move swiftly in comparison to other clans, and the Baraunghar even more-so, an army had need to maintain supply wagons which would not be able to keep up had they ridden at speed.

As they travelled across the wide plains of the southern provinces of the Unicorn, Shinjo Shui took advantage of the opportunity to relax a bit while on patrol. They were not often blessed to be doing a patrol in the lands of the Unicorn Clan, a relative safety compared to past campaigns, and he was determined to make the best of it. The spring air was warm on this day, and the sounds of the bubbling river and surrounding wildlife of the plains filled his ears with a symphony of life. In the distance ahead, the outspread wings of a hunting hawk could be seen as it slowly circled, looking for an unfortunate rodent to fill its belly. A light breeze tickled as it flowed through his loose hair.

“Where do you think we’re going this time, Shui-san?”

Distracted momentarily from the peaceful surroundings by the voice beside him, Shui gave his friend a glance that was unmistakable. By now his friend had become accustomed to the dirty looks made even the more unsettling by his mismatched eyes, and so he graced him with the same reply as he had given so many times before: “The same place we go every time, Nakamuri-san. To try and take over Rokugan.”

The jest referencing the actions of the Baraunghar in prior years under the leadership of Khan Chagatai always brought a laugh to his friend’s lips, and today was no different.

“No, really,” Nakamuri replied, trying to stifle his laughter. “I heard that the Scorpion were encroaching into Shinomen Mori and that we were deployed to maintain our aged pledge.”

He sighed at his friends words, “You always were too trusting of rumors, Nakamuri-san. You truly should not take them to heart. We go where the Khan orders us, to do what the Khan wishes us to do. If he wanted us to know what that was, we would know. But we are scouts, and if we are captured, we cannot know.”

Nakamuri chuckled, apparently unphased by the words of his friend, “Yes, well, I like to try and guess.”

A distant avian shriek heralded the success of the hungry hawk and returned Shui’s attention to the pair’s surroundings. It was then that he saw the plume of black lazily flowing up into the sky, far down the path they now traveled.

“Nakamuri-san, is that smoke?”

“Hai, Shui-san. Do you think we should look into it? We could wait for the column…”

He gave his friend a smirk and taunted him, “Are you going to be outdone by a farmer’s bravery, Nakamuri-san? We are the forward scouts. It is our duty to investigate and report.”

The dirty glimpse his friend returned to him was enough to tell him that he had cajoled his friend into agreeing, and the pair guided their horses off the road and into the high grass of the plains, now moving at a swift trot towards the village. With a fluid and practiced movement, Shui prepared his dai-kyu, stringing the strong bow and gathering an arrow with a leaf-shaped head into his hand.

As they approached the smoldering village, they spotted the cause of the village’s distress: a lone bandit standing sentry outside the village. Just as the bandit saw the two Unicorn samurai and started to shout a warning, a purple-fletched arrow buried itself in his throat and he slumped lifelessly to the ground.

“Only one?” wondered Nakamuri.

While the pair were able to silence the sentry, being fresh from gempukku they had made the juvenile mistake of approaching too swiftly on horseback, and the sound of the hooves on the packed ground alerted the others within the village of their presence. With a shout, a dozen more bandits came running out of the ragged buildings of the farming village, and the Unicorn samurai reined in their horses to a sudden stop.

“To the column, Nakamuri-san!” came the shout of Shui, realizing that the two young scouts stood no chance against the bandits. Just as swiftly as they had approached the village, they began their retreat, loosing arrows behind them to deter any pursuit. The bandits had no hope of catching the mounted samurai, and quickly gave up the pursuit, to return to the village to finish looting and make their escape before the reinforcements would arrive.

The journey back to the column was void of relaxation and joy, and the wind no longer tickled the hair of this Child of the Wind.