Nishi Asano was certain she would be dead by nightfall.
She was hanging by her wrists from a wooden frame, dressed only in her yukata and a blood-soaked bandage. The air was bitterly cold, and the wind cut through her thin garment causing her to shiver uncontrollably.
The cords binding her wrists had cut deeply into the flesh. She could no longer feel or move her fingers. The cold had rendered her feet quite numb as well, a small compensation in light of all the other stabbing pains that coursed through her body. Her shoulders were the worst of all. Tied to this frame they bore her full weight, and it felt like her arms were going to tear loose at any moment. She could alleviate the pain by getting her feet under her and standing on the tips of her toes. The deep spear wound in her abdomen made that effort agony, however, and she was very afraid that she'd start the bleeding again.
She was also desperately thirsty. Hot tea would be heaven, but even a sip of water would be wonderful. Her throat was tight and dry, her lips cracked and bleeding. The bitter cold hadn't helped her other wounds, either. A scattering of burns and cuts decorated her torso, the result of her recent questioning at the hands of her captors.
Her main tormentor had been a tall, thin man dressed in black leather armor. He had long hair and a thin dangling mustache. He was an adept torturer. The memory made Nishi feel faint. She was quite prepared to die in the service of Lord Arai, but she had always figured on falling in battle, brought down by sword, spear or arrow.
Such a death was cleaner and faster, much preferable to the many deaths usually reserved for her kind. Captured ninja were often boiled alive, or suffered the slow agony of crucifixion, or were tortured to death. For female ninja it was even worse -- she might be handed over to the army encamped outside to be raped to death.
Rescue, Nishi knew, was an impossible hope. General Yabu was unlikely to risk his tiny force over her fate. He seemed to know Nishi was a ninja, and samurai were not likely to value the lives of such.
Nishi cast her mind back to this morning.
She had woken up in pain to the sound of music and the smell of grilling food. She had been lying on a bed of some sort, dressed only in her thin cotton yukata, a bandage wrapped tightly around her hips and a chain attached to a collar around her neck.
Her first motion reminded her of the agony of the deep spear thrust in her abdomen. She struggled weakly to sit upright. She was in a single room in an immense tent. It had to be the enormous commander's tent she had seen the day before, lit by torches that night.
Nishi heard a faint jingle of armour behind her. Craning her neck within its iron collar, she saw a pair of guards. They were standing behind the bed, watching her with cold eyes. Unlike the spear-carrying militia she had seen since arriving in Korea, these men looked very tough. They were short, much closer to her height than General Yabu's. They had dark skin and oily hair. They wore strangely cut leather armour and carried broad-bladed swords. Nishi had never seen anyone like them before; they looked neither Korean nor Chinese.
Nishi quickly suppressed thoughts of escape. The chain on her neck was securely fastened to a stake in the floor. Working it loose would take a minute at least, and her two guards would have been dangerous had she been fully armed and healthy. Unarmed and badly wounded, she had no hope of overcoming them.
No sooner had she returned to her bed when a tall, thin man had entered. He had fluttered and twittered over Nishi, reminding her more of a bird than a man. He had praised that fact she was awake and had admonished her not to do anything to injure herself further. Nishi guessed they wanted her nice and healthy for her eventual execution.
The bird-like man had left, to return accompanied by the fattest human being Nishi had ever seen in her life. The man - well... she guessed it was a man, although his high-pitched tittering voice made her wonder - had been heavily adorned with make-up and dressed in a sea of colorful silks. A host of similarly attired underlings had followed him, hanging on his every word.
What had followed was a surprisingly painless session of questions, ('Who is this letter from?' 'Who is Master Tai?' 'Why do you need to get inside the walls?'), answers ('Master Tai.' 'The man who wrote the letter.' 'To deliver the letter.') and more questions (Where is your other message?'). Unable to think of any suitable lies, mainly because she was having a hard time thinking period, Nishi had settled for the truth - well, a version of it anyway. The fat man had quickly deduced that Nishi was no Korean, and had expressed great wonderment at the presence of someone from the Eastern Kingdom here in Northern Korea. He had been very interested in Master Tai, asking her if he was a Shaolin monk. When Nishi had said she thought so, he had expressed no small amount of displeasure, cursing his name.
It was about then that the fat-man noted sadly how unfortunate it was that Nishi didn't have any messages on her. Well, that wasn't true, they had a blood-soaked sheet of paper that contained Master Tai's letter, but they wanted to know where her 'real message' was. Telling them that she didn't *have* another message seemed to be yet another of the numerous mistakes she'd made in the last twenty-four hours; she'd lost count by this point.
During the intial bout of questions, she had been informed that they had 'captured her companion', an obvious lie. First she told them she had been alone. That had resulted in a series of sad clucking sounds and a great shaking of heads.
Then Nishi realized that she owed nothing to her 'companion', and that she might gain time by focussing the questioning on the stranger rather than on herself. So she changed her story, informing the large man that whoever they had captured was *no* companion of hers and that, if given the chance, she'd kill that that white coated idiot the first chance she got.
In her befuddled state, she had called the man 'White Lotus'. *That* statement had gotten a reaction, one that made her hope that the supposed 'White Lotus' was another spy and his death was something her captors wouldn't mind seeing either.
Her interrogators produced the long white coat. Nishi recognized it, and flatly denied it was hers. When asked, she described her supposed 'escort' to them, realizing as she did so how much she and Lotus resembled each other. Similar height, long hair, thin build, clean shaven...
Amazingly enough, her descriptions seemed to be believed. Had they really captured her former captor was well? For a fleeting moment Nishi had a vision of being granted her wish. She and Lotus, forced in a fight to the death, the winner granted a few extra hours of life before returning to the questioning.
It was not to be so... tittering behind his fan, the fat man and his sycophants had minced away. As they departed another man entered. He was a tall, thin man dressed in black leather armour; slick long hair and a long thin moustache. Even his smile was cruel.
The torturer pulled up a brazier where Nishi could see it and started placing knives around the edge, where their tips could heat. While he was waiting for them, the man had casually asked if Nishi had any idea who she had been speaking to. Nishi had admitted she didn't know him.
"That was Qung-Fa Xun, advisor and general to the Governor of Changpai province. And, incidently, a high official in the White Lotus Society," the torturer laughed.
Nishi had been left speechless.
Soon after the torture began. She had been asked many questions, her answers encouraged with just a touch from a white-hot knife or the slightest cut of the blade. Nishi remembered very little of what had actually occurred, other than she screamed quite a bit. Mercifully, her wound left her weak enough that she had quickly passed out.
She had regained consciousness to find herself in her present situation, bound to a frame to die of exposure.
Nishi blinked and painfully tried to look out over the plain below her. It seemed that she had passed out yet again, and the sun was that much higher in the sky, although it offered scant warmth against the winter chill. She tried to get her feet back under her, biting her lip to keep from crying out at the sudden wash of agony as the wound in her hip reopened. The was a moment of respite from the ache in her shoulders, before the renewed circulation sent stabbing needles of pain shooting through her upper body. She hissed and whimpered slightly, her parched throat too dry for her to make any sort of proper sounds.
It was with a mixture of despair and relief that Nishi realized that the cold no longer bothered her as it once had. Despair because she knew that meant she was slowly succumbing to the bitter cold, relief because it meant she would be dead soon, and thus find release from further torture.
Her only regret was that she had failed in her mission. She had failed General Yabu, and in doing so, she had failed Lord Arai. That, and she would never be able to get revenge on the white-garbed stranger who had betrayed her.
Tied to the frame Nishi sighed, her breath a thin white cloud in front of her face, snatched away almost instantly by the breeze. It had all seemed so simple at the time.
The mission had certainly been simple enough. General Yabu had asked her to get inside the walls of the Falling Leaf Kwoon and speak with Master Han, and find out what was going on. She had been carrying a letter of introduction, written by Master Tai, to insure that those inside the Kwoon didn't kill her out of hand.
The fact that the Falling Leaf Kwoon was presently under siege by several hundred Chinese soldiers hadn't really bothered her. She'd snuck through enemy camps before. She dressed herself in some Korean peasant garb she'd appropriated earlier. Leaving her kamayari and katana in the care of the others, Nishi had set off, her intent to be inside the wall before dawn.
She had set off into the gathering dark, armed only with her knife. Her plan was to waylay one of the soldiers for his uniform. But the plan had ended in disaster even before Nishi had gotten started.
No sooner had she selected her target, a soldier off relieving himself in the tall grass, then the man had turned around, spear at the ready. Nishi still wasn't sure how he'd heard her, but armed with only a small knife, she was not willing press the issue. She crouched further into the underbrush and tossed a small stone, distracting the man into looking and searching the other way.
That was when she'd felt the sword at her neck.
Nishi cursed at the memory, her words little more than indistinct mumblings. She hadn't detected the slightest sound of anyone approaching, a failure that burned her even more than the soldier being alerted to her presence.
She had risen slowly, and turned around, the entire time highly aware of the sharp tip of a sword gently pressing against her skin.
Her captor was a slender youth with long black hair, and dressed in flowing, white silk garments. Her assessment of his features, however, was marred by the fact he held a long, thin sword touching her throat and was carrying a matching weapon in his other hand.
Nishi had first attempted to pass herself off as a simple peasant. A ploy that failed miserably, as she spoke no Korean and very little Chinese.
The white-coated stranger spoke in fluent Chinese. <Why are you menacing these soldiers?>
Nishi had seen the white-garbed stranger spying on the Chinese soldiers earlier in the day. Perhaps he was from inside the school? <I doing same as you>, she responded in her poor Chinese.
A frown passed over White-coat's smooth features and was gone. <You don't look like you work for the White Lotus.>
<No I do not>. Nishi wasn't sure what the White Lotus was. Did it have something to do with her captor?
<What interest do you have in the Falling Leaf Kwoon?>
<I need get inside>
<Why?>
Nishi decided to be honest, in the hope of gaining an ally or at least getting off the sword-tip.
<I have message to deliver.>
<Ah! So you know people inside?>
Nishi wasn't sure whether to lie or tell the truth. <In a fashion.>
<Ah. Then can you tell me why the White Lotus is so interested in the kwoon?>
<No.>
White-coat seemed to reach a decision, and lowered the sword a trifle. <Very well. Make any noise and I will kill you ruthlessly>, the stranger warned Nishi.
<Turn around>, the stranger gestured with one sword. Nishi turned, facing the kwoon.
<Go.> As Nishi moved forward towards the barriers, she was followed by the white-coated stranger. It seemed that she had found an ally, of sorts.
Finally they reached the edge of a clearing. In front of them was the bamboo barricade that surrounded the stone walls of the school. Guards paced up and down the length of it.
White-coat tossed Nishi his long white coat. Again placing the sword at her neck, the stranger whispered <Put the coat on. And do *not* try turning around.> After donning the coat Nishi had been left alone, her captor vanishing without a sound.
Of all the things she had done wrong that night, Nishi felt that that had been the worst. She should have broken for the barrier immediately, instead of waiting around in the dark in a white coat, right where the enemy was most prevalent and alert. Instead, she stood there, like a fool.
Suddenly one of the guards cried out in pain, clutching his shoulder. Someone had hit him with a thrown knife. Some distance to her side Nishi heard a familiar voice, the voice of the stranger who brought her there, cry out, <There! There he is! In the white coat!>
Nishi cursed inwardly at that memory. She should have known what was coming, especially since it was something she would have done herself.
Nishi had shucked the coat as quickly as possible and raced for the barricade. The alerted soldiers rushed towards her, all armed with long spears.
She leaped over the first thrust, twisted aside from the second, and slapped another pair of shafts aside before stepping right into the fifth soldier's thrust. Naturally he missed her mail shirt. A foot of steel slammed into her abdomen like a spike of fire, and darkness claimed her.
That was how she found herself bound by her wrists to this frame; a heavy crossbar attached to two thick posts. She was hung in such a way that in order to relieve the pressure on her shoulders she would have to stand on the very tips of her toes. Naturally, she would only be able to do this for a short period of time, at which point her legs would give out and the burning agony in her arms would start again. Gritting her teeth, Nishi had done her best not to cry out at the pain, but that had been hours ago, and now she had barely enough strength to lift her head.
A tortured groan escaped her lips as her foot slipped on the hard ground, putting all of her weight back onto her shoulders and arms. Trying to blink away the sudden onset of tears, Nishi struggled futilely to regain her feet. She gasped -- even the slightest movement sent sharp stabbing pains through her torso. Sobbing slightly, she gave up, allowing herself to simply hang in place. It didn't seem to matter much anyway, she was so numb from the cold that she could no longer feel her arms.
The frame was set in front of the huge tent of the White Lotus Eunuch. Hanging there, Nishi had a perfect view of the kwoon and the army that surrounded it. Even as she watched, the soldiers readied themselves, shouting and yelling, horns blowing and drums pounding. The sky was filled with arrows, and great clouds of dust rose as troops of soldiers made their way forward. Closing her eyes, Nishi did her best to ignore the agony that wracked her body. She'd concentrate on something more pleasant instead, like slitting the throat of whoever it was that had been wearing the white coat, or of cutting out the heart of Qung-Fa Xun with a dull knife.
She was dizzy, and she didn't feel the cold so sharply any more. She knew the signs. It wouldn't be long now. She tried opening her eyes, blinking at the strands of hair that whipped across her face, making her eyes water and blurring her vision. She doubted she'd last a few more hours.
Nishi struggled to lift her head, vaguely aware of the sounds of mustering troops echoing up from the plain below. Movement from the side of the tent caught her eye. A small group of solidiers was approaching. Like most of them they were dressed in blue tunics and broad yellow hats; they were apparently going to pass right in front of where she was hanging.
She blinked, then blinked again. The leader looked to be a fairly tall man, with a terrible scar across his face that was obvious even at this distance. Nishi felt faint and tried to shake her head to dispel the misleading vision. The man with the scar remained.
"General Yabu?" Nishi whispered faintly.