The Ronin of the North p1

Trudging through the blowing snow and cutting wind, clad in many layers of thick hide and fur, Masayoshi pushed forward, determined to make it home before darkness fell. A task better said than done most days in this frigid, bleak land. The sun seemed to set when it pleased, and usually that was hours sooner then he would have liked. But this was the safest place he’d found so far.

It had been nearly three months since the events in Zatar, and Masayoshi had eventually made his way north through Sarnia and Varland and continued as far as one could go without being in treacherous territory where no man dwelled. But still despite the sparse civilization in evidence this was the perfect area for any future attacks, with almost no soul around to endanger when they inevitably came for him.

When Masayoshi had first reached the land called Aarden he’d stumbled on a well-built log-and plank cabin, old, sturdy and quite strong. He had found it empty, and staying the night, he simply planned to explain himself to the owner should they arrive. No one ever did, and he kept replenishing the supply of chopped firewood he used in case they should show up, but after they had not for many days he had taken to living there, for the time being.

He turned to look out over the broad expanse of snow beyond the cabin in this remote, out-of-the-way valley. It was getting to be quiet, almost too much so. His warrior instincts began to sense something. A hint of danger. Could they have finally caught up with him? His hands shot to the sword at his side, thumb pushing the blade slightly free, positioned for a quickdraw.

Even under several bulky layers of insulation, Masayoshi felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It was the feeling of calm before the storm. That deep, deep silence where the world goes, still enough to hear your own heart beating in your ears. Masayoshi took a deep breath of icy air, and let it out slowly, letting his consciousness go with it. Spreading out to feel the world around him on a more highly tuned level.

Pushing past the eerie, almost preternatural stillness, he heard the crunch of heavy footsteps running through the forest somewhere beyond eyesight, but far enough that he’d be safe if he moved quiet and stayed out of the woods. Skirting the tree line of fir and blue spruce, keeping his ears focused on whatever moved through the woods on his flank. But something caught his attention. A spray of scarlet on the pure white snow, stirring him to move quicker as he discovered the blood spray was from a dead musk ox. A fair distance away he spotted an overturned and smashed cart, its contents spilled out. The unfortunate beast of burden, a stocky, shaggy-haired brown animal, appeared to have been flung through the air, its remains violently torn and slammed hard, given its significant distance from the cart. Clearly freshly killed from the steam that was rolling off the still very warm blood and body. Masayoshi took all of this in in one fast sweeping glance, then ran to the cart, inspecting it, expecting to find the body of the owner, but he came up empty. As he was looking for any further clue to where the driver might be, a sudden shriek broke the silence, and then a loud chilling roar that shook snow from a few branches.

Snapping his neck in the direction of the sound, Masayoshi's blood ran cold. Closing his eyes and taking in another sharp breath of the freezing, lung-numbing air and breathing it out in a long measured exhale, his eyes shot open, moving with a speed that looked like short-ranged teleportation. Leaving behind a momentary after-image if anyone had been there to see it. He knew what he was doing was stupid, but Masayoshi headed head long into the certain danger regardless. If he were fast enough he might just be able to prevent disaster.

Breaking into a clearing in the trees backdropped by a cliff and cave he was not prepared for what he saw.