THE COLOR OF HONOR




THE COLOR OF HONORby David L. Felts© 1998 - All Rights Reserved





Eishin Oguro's narrow eyes glittered like obsidian chips. He
smelled of cloves. "Lord Tetsu's life is in your
hands." His slender, pale fingers stroked his black sash as
he spoke.

I inclined my head. Oguro and I were of equivalent status;
there was no need for me to bow. "Of course." I turned
my gaze on Tetsu, Lord Namio's eldest son, an arrogant man of
twenty-three years with poor posture and shifty eyes. His sallow
skin and blotched complexion showed his debauchery.

Oguro grunted, folding his arms so his soft hands were hidden
in the copious sleeves of his white and red counselor's robe.
"Three days to the engagement. I look forward to your
victory, Commander Kono."

I acknowledged Oguro's compliment with a slight nod, my pulse
quickening in anticipation of the coming battle. Lord Taga,
hearing word of Lord Namio's ill health, had attempted to collect
taxes from Nagoto, a small farming village on my Lord's northern
border. My Lord could not tolerate such an intrusion of his
province. A battle was arranged. If we won, Lord Taga would
respect the current border and cease further intrusions. If we
lost, he would consider it within his right to pursue the
acquisition of additional territory.

"I hear the Taga forces are formidable," Oguro said.


"As are ours. And Lord Namio has the Mandate of Heaven.
There is no honor in an easy victory."

Oguro's lips twitched, as close to a smile as I had ever seen.
"Of course."

"How is our Lord's health?"

"He is quite well," Oguro replied. "Despite the
pain."

"Please convey my prayers."

"I will. Now I shall bid you good day, that you might
familiarize Lord Tetsu with his responsibilities."

I inclined my head. "Good day, Counselor."

"Good day, Commander," Oguro replied, then left my
tent.

Alone with Tetsu, I stared at the insolent youth, wondering
where to begin. Tetsu slouched, pursing his fleshy lips, looking
about the tent with a frown. The front of his shirt was stained
with dark spots. "Were I leading my father's forces, I would
command a much more luxurious tent."

The carpets and small table served me well enough. The thick
futon was rolled and placed against the tent wall. The many
pillows had been hand-made by my wife, Miyuko. Except for a
private tent and the carpets, I lived much as my men did.
"No doubt you would, my Lord," I said.

Tetsu frowned, as if wondering to take offense at my reply.

"Shall I show you about the camp and introduce you to
your officers?"

Tetsu waved a hand. "You might direct me towards the
Quartermaster. I'm parched."

I kept my face expressionless. "With the engagement only
three days away," I said cautiously, "it might be more
prudent to familiarize yourself with our forces, Lord Tetsu. We
need to decide on a section for you to command."

Tetsu's stare was stony. "I will take the horse,
naturally."

My cavalry would be essential to victory. I could not afford
to have it hampered by untried leadership. Lord Tetsu was not
known for his practicality and ability to inspire those he led,
nor was he a seasoned warrior.

"For a first field command," I said, keeping my
voice neutral, "the infantry might be more suitable."
Not as mobile, slower to respond, less like to be hampered by an
inept commander.

Tetsu scowled. "I'm no foot soldier."

I offered an option that would allow him to save face.
"Your position in command of the infantry would, of course,
require you to be mounted."

Tetsu's scowl deepened. "As I said, I shall command the
cavalry."

"Your pardon, my Lord, but the tenants of command are
best learned slowly and carefully. Leadership, like
swordsmanship, must be learned. Working with the infantry would
offer just such an opportunity, and allow you to strengthen your
already considerable skills."

Tetsu's face flushed. "I don't need to learn to be a
leader. I was born to it."

"Of course," I said, resigned. I bowed, slightly
lower than required. This seemed to mollify him.

"Now, as I asked, where might I find the
Quartermaster?"

"I shall direct you."

We left the tent and I pointed towards the south edge of the
camp. "The blue tent belongs to the Quartermaster. If he is
not there, you will no doubt find him among his wagons." I
indicated the many supply wagons to the southeast.

Without a word, Tetsu left, anxious with the need for saké,
no doubt. I gestured towards an attending adjutant. "Hurry
and find Akiko," I told him. "Tell him Lord Namio's son
is on the way, and is thirsty."

The adjutant bowed and hurried away. I went back inside my
tent. There were requisitions to be signed, and new strategies to
be planned. Too, Lord Namio had sent his son to me for a reason
beyond that of providing instruction in the arts of war. It was
now my task to deduce it.

I wondered again if I had done anything to displease my Lord.
I was highly regarded, highly trusted. With a sigh, I knelt
before the low cherry-wood table in my tent and fell to examining
troop positions for the coming battle. With a bit of charcoal, I
sketched battle formations on a piece of parchment, puzzling over
the best positions while replaying the conversation with Oguro in
my head.

Within an hour, I had developed an alternate strategy. I would
provide my infantry with naginata's--stout poles with pointed
blades, longer and stronger than spears--to use against the Taga
cavalry charge. The naginata was considered as a peasant's
weapon. Its use would be unexpected. The honor of a victory would outweight the dishonor of its use.

Additionally, I would split the cavalry in two, with Tetsu in
charge of only one section. I doubted if he would like this, yet
I took my orders from his father. My service was paramount, and
with Tetsu in command of all my horse, I doubted my ability to
win. My duty was first to his father, and thence to him.

His life is in your hands, Oguro had said.

I felt I had uncovered my Lord's reason for sending me his
eldest son.

Tetsu's field experience was non-existent, his swordsmanship
as poor as his ability to sit a horse. The upcoming battle was a
small, yet important engagement, essentially determining Lord
Taga's right to pursue an all out war. Lord Namio, knowing that
he would soon pass, must intend for Tetsu to begin learning the
intricacies of war and command. My task, then, was to ensure
Tetsu was not killed in the upcoming battle.

Yet if Lord Namio intended Tetsu to learn the ways of command,
why had he waited so long to send him to the field? There were
always border skirmishes--mostly with Heibei to the south--and
there were several Ronin bands raiding about as well, the largest
and most powerful being led by a former Masanari samurai named
Jinsuke. Surely, if Lord Namio had wanted his son to know the
ways of war, he would have had the youth riding patrol long
before now.

Instead, it was his second son, Arikawa, who had spent the
last three years defending province territories while Tetsu had
lounged in the palace, indulging himself in whatever sensation he
currently fancied.

I shrugged. It was not my position to analyze my lord's
commands, but only to obey them, although I did wonder at the
subtlety with which he had had his wishes delivered.

#

Tetsu turned out to be even worse than I had believed
possible. He alienated the men, even having three flogged for
some presumed offense to his dignity. I had attempted to explain
that conditions in the field could hardly be held as strict as
those in the city, but Tetsu ignored me. I avoided him as best I
could, which was easy, as he spent most of his time in his tent,
drinking and enjoying the pleasures of the opium blossom.

On the second day, Tetsu, drunk as usual, had fallen off his
horse. Blaming his spill on an uneven gait, he'd demanded the
horse be killed, as it was, in his opinion, unsuitable for
service. I attempted to explain the importance of each horse, but
I might as well have been speaking to a boulder. I had no
recourse but to comply with his command. Tetsu was, after all,
the son of my lord. The horse was killed, and my number of
cavalry reduced by one.

Moral suffered, and Tetsu seemed determined to drive it even
lower. Even now, the afternoon of the day before the battle, he
had the cavalry out for maneuvers, which mainly consisted of them
hurrying to wherever he pointed.

I typically allowed my men the day before to gather their
thoughts, to make peace with the gods. I walked among the camp,
stopping for a word or two, for a firm hand on the shoulder of a
new recruit, or to hear confessions as men sought to calm their
souls. And all the while, Tetsu and the cavalry thundered back
and forth across the training grounds, stirring up dust, while
the young lord filled the air with his nasal shouts and curses.

As I retired to my tent, I reflected that regardless of the
amount of time I had, I doubted I could make of Tetsu anything
that might make his father proud, or our province safe while
under his leadership as the new lord.

#

I awoke refreshed to a clear, bright dawn. The air carried the
soft scent of ginger, which the cooks used to season the
vegetables and rice. I was standing outside, admiring the play of
light from the rising sun on the dew, when Tetsu stumbled from
his large and doubtless luxurious tent, noticeably shaken from
the previous night's excess of saké and opium. I turned away as
Tetsu lowered his trousers and urinated.

"Kono!" The young lord called.

I turned, hiding my irritation. Tetsu never showed appropriate
respect. "Yes, Lord Tetsu?"

Tetsu approached, pulling up his trousers and tying the
drawstring. The whites of his eyes were yellowed and bloodshot;
he reeked of opium smoke. "I've decide to command both
contingents as a single unit."

I reigned in my temper with an effort, struggling to keep my
emotions from my face. The first cavalry unit's senior was
Nakagura and the second's Hirashi. Tetsu was to ride into battle
with the first unit, leaving the second under Hirashi's command.
Hirashi was a seasoned veteran, wily and well versed in the
strategies of war. Combining the units and giving Tetsu overall
command would render the cavalry virtually useless.

After a brief pause to ensure I retained my composure, I said,
"I am sorry, Lord Tetsu, but that will not be
possible."

Tetsu eyes widened, his mouth gaping like that of a stranded
trout. "You refuse my order?" he finally managed to
ask.

I bowed. "With respect, Lord Tetsu."

He was speechless, the sallow skin of his face growing red.
"You are relieved," he finally gasped. "Place
yourself in your tent. You will be dealt with after the
battle."

I bowed again, lower. "Again, with respect, I must
refuse. My orders and service are first to your father. Only he
can relieve me of my duty. I am sorry, Lord Tetsu."

Tetsu's hands clenched, a vein in his neck began to throb. Had
he been wearing his weapons, I felt sure he would have attacked.

"You will not even be allowed the honor of seppuku,"
he said, his voice the hiss of a snake. "I will have you
stripped and impaled. Your family will share your fate. I will
wipe your seed from the earth. I--" with an obvious effort,
Tetsu whirled and strode back into his tent. For the moment, he
was powerless to counter the command of his father, though I knew
he would not forget how I had humiliated him.

I let out a breath, glancing about, thankful no one had seen
the confrontation. Squaring my shoulders, I set off through the
camp to talk to Hirashi and Nakagura, and Banno, who led the
infantry. They were good men, sure of their loyalties and
confident in my ability and judgment, as was I in theirs.

#

I had my forces at Seishun Plain, a broad expanse of cleared
field on our northern border, an hour before noon.

I rode out alone to meet Shigenobu Miura, the leader of the
Taga forces. We met midway between the two armies. Miura was a
short man, his legs bent from years in the saddle. Beneath the
black lacquered helm, his eyes were hard and sharp as a blade. He
moved so smoothly on the sturdy gray gelding he rode it was hard
to tell where man ended and animal began.

We bowed from our saddles, our respect for each other so thick
I could taste it, like honey in tea.

"A good day," Miura said, his eyes turning to the
early spring sky, taking in the wide expanse of blue broken by a
few wispy white clouds.

I nodded. "Yes, a good day." I scanned the Taga
army; almost two thousand men, nearly two hundred more than I
commanded. In cavalry, our forces were almost even, with five
hundred horse each, though Miura was not burdened with Lord
Namio's besotted, arrogant, and incompetent son.

After a slow moment of silence, we bowed once more, then
turned our mounts. Once I was back in position, my drummers took
up the beat, matching time with Miura's drums. The slow, sonorous
notes rolled across the flat grassy plain, stirring my blood. I
saw my men shift restlessly, their eyes shining as their hands
tightened on their weapons.

I waved my arm and the cavalry split, Hirashi leading his
section to the left, Nakagura, under Tetsu, leading his section
to the right. My infantry now flanked on either side by cavalry,
I waved my arm again, and the drum beat changed. My army lurched
unevenly into motion, smoothing as the men's feet rose and fell
in time to the drums. I took them a hundred paces forward, then
signaled the drums again, bringing them to a halt.

Miura, too, had led his forces forward. A mere hundred paces
now separated us. His cavalry was arranged in a line front of his
infantry, preparing to charge. Sun glinted off the colorful
lacquered armor of his soldiers, gleamed off drawn blades. I saw
Miura's head twisting from side to side as he surveyed his men.
He raised his arms and his drums stopped. I stopped mine as well.


There was a moment of silence, so profound it was as if the
world had stopped. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

The stillness was shattered by cries from Miura's forces as
they surged forward. I signaled, and my forces advanced as well,
my cavalry charging from the sides. Miura held back the sides of
his infantry, forming a vee formation to meet my two-pronged
cavalry attack.

Closer and closer the two armies rushed. When separated by no
more than thirty paces, I signaled, and my drummers sounded a
thunderous three-beat volley. My infantry staggered to a halt,
the front row falling to their knees. The row behind them
remained upright, bringing up their naginatas to angle over the
heads of the kneeling swordsman. At the same time, Hirashi
wheeled his cavalry about, breaking his charge.

Miura's cavalry was too close to break; they hammered into my
infantry, impaling themselves on the naginatas. The kneeling men
had drawn their weapons, thrusting up into the soft horse bellies
above them even as they were crushed and trampled. In moments,
Miura's cavalry was decimated, the horses and men down and dying.


I saw Nakagura hammer into Miura's left flank. The Taga line
bowed, yet held. Tetsu hung back as his section engaged Miura's
men. So he was a coward as well. I felt sorry for Lord Namio.
What must it be like to have Tetsu as a son? How was I to teach
him anything?

I watched as Tetsu cowered in his saddle, flinching at the
sounds of battle. I recalled Oguro's words.

Lord Tetsu's life is in your hands.

With sudden clarity I knew what I was too do.

Only when one was free from fear could the power and peace
necessary to serve one's master with faith and loyalty be
achieved. Bushido, the Way of the Warrior, often made harsh
demands of those who adhered to its tenants. I hesitated a
moment, watching the battle.

Banno had led the infantry in a charge over the bloody bodies
of men and horses, engaging the Taga infantry from the front,
while Hirashi exploited his unit's mobility with a swift and
deadly charge to the Taga rear. They pounded through the Taga
line from behind, leaving a trail of twisted corpses, then
whirled to make another attack.

I watched a moment, satisfied. With his cavalry gone, Miura's
infantry, despite its slightly greater numbers, was no match for
the two-sided attack.

I kicked my horse into motion, approaching Tetsu from behind.
The young lord had not moved, still sitting his horse some thirty
yards from the embattled armies, shivering with fear, his hand
gripping and releasing the sharkskin-wrapped hilt of his
daichi-katana, his long sword. I drew my horse to a halt and
dismounted. No one was watching. Closing the remaining distance
on foot, I reached up and pulled the man from his saddle,
wondering if I would see Miyuko and my son Tamiya again.

Tetsu let out a yelp of surprise as he tumbled to the ground.
A dark stain spread across the front of his trousers. I caught
the strong odor of urine and shook my head, ashamed for him.

The young lord struggled to his feet, face red with
embarrassment and anger. He opened his mouth to speak, hands
clutching at his weapons.

My sword left its scabbard a glittering blur as I executed a
perfect akirisuke, the killing stroke, cutting neatly
through Tetsu's neck. The body stood upright, back arched and
fingers twitching. Two great gouts of blood burst from the stump
of the neck as the head tumbled to the grass. The body abruptly
collapsed, folding like a paper screen to drop limply to the
ground. I flipped the drops of blood from my blade and went to
engage Miura's remaining men.

#

Tetsu had died in honorable combat in our victory over the
Taga clan. In death, he was more of a man than he had ever been
in life. I bore responsibility for his loss. As Oguro had said,
his life had been in my hands.

At a nod from Lord Namio, I leaned forward to pick up my
wakizashi from its pad of white silk, the eel-skin hilt rough in
my hands. Placing the point against my abdomen, I turned my gaze
to the side, to my wife and son.

Miyuko's eyes glistened with tears of pride and sadness.
Tamiya stood straight and tall at his mother's side, his four
year-old face stern and proud.

Looking ahead, I saw Arikawa, Lord Namio's second--and now
eldest--son. He stood tall and strong, dressed in light gray
silk, hands clasped behind his back. His shrewd gaze locked with
my own and he offered a barely perceptible nod. He would make a
good Lord.

Lord Namio, despite his illness and pain, stood as my second
and would administer the akirisuke. The honor this did me
would be carried by my descendants always.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly pushed the blade of the
wakizashi into my body, gritting my teeth to keep from crying
out. I would not shame my family, or myself, or sully the honor
Lord Namio had granted me.

The metal blade was a cold burning length of ice in my guts.
Smothering a gasp, quivering with effort, I pushed the blade to
the side, beginning the angled cut that would disembowel me.
Sweat ran into my eyes. My whole existence was the pain. I had
not imagined it could hurt so much. I began to fear I would cry
out. Warm blood soaked my hands, staining the white silk red.

I leaned forward and exposed the back of my neck to Lord
Namio's mercy.







David L. Felts is 33 years-old, married, one kid and another on the way, and
currently a captain in the US Air Force. His time in the military has led
him to a variety of locations: San Antonio, Texas -- Miami, Florida --
Tokyo, Japan -- Tucson, Arizona -- Montgomery, Alabama -- and, finally,
Goldsboro, North Carolina. He's been writing for eight years, with serious
intent for about four.

He is also the editor and publisher of a small press speculative fiction
magazine titled
Maelstrom Speculative Fiction.

PUBLICATION HISTORY (in order)
"Troder", Writers of the Future volume XIII
"Last Call", Millenium SF
"The Rain King", Millenium SF
"The Color of Honor", Fortress Magazine
"Chopper", Vampire Dan's Story Emporium (forthcoming)
"The Color of Honor", reprint, Neverworlds