“Where is Arika?” Choji shouted. The middle-aged Kokorese man pulled the thread tight on the life-size doll laying across his lap. A mop of black hair hung loosely from the mannequin revealing a stuffed burlap sack where the head should be.
“She said she was going down to the brook where it crosses the road.” Called a voice from deeper into the woods.
“Damn that girl!” Choji huffed, loud enough fro his men to read his displeasure in his words.
Standing and admiring his project, he turned the puppet, inspecting it from all sides. Satisfied, he hoisted the lifeless form into position, strapping a thick belt around his waist then connecting lose hanging ropes into rings on crudely made bracers. The long gown draped over him except for a cutout for him to look out from the confines. He danced and shuffled in place, testing the weight and the moment of his creation.
“Hey Boss, nice dress!” Called another voice from nearby. A teasing tone evident in the statement.
“This dress is putting food in your belly Seiichi!” The slender leader countered. Unhooking himself from the giant puppet he leaned the facsimile against a tree before making an inspection of the camp. Choji stomped around the collection of blankets and crates until something caught his eye. Or more correctly, the lack of something. A crate of sake was missing from the stash. Though goblin mischief could explain the absence, the goblins were too much in fear of their human masters to attempt this level of defiance. There was only one explanation for the missing wine -- Arika.
Shortly after Choji had formed the band of men that were currently under his care, Arika showed up out of thin air. He was mistrustful of the Oni girl, too many tales of their mischief had been woven into his upbringing to just accept her at her word. He chased her off several times, before it became evident to him that she was not going to just go away. Eventually he entrusted her with small tasks as a test of her loyalty. Each task was performed without complaint and as directed. Later she became a valuable contributor to their success in raiding, causing mishaps to steer encounters in favor of the band of outlaws.
Choji kicked the dirt then called out to everyone and no one. “When Arika returns, inform her that I want to talk with her.” A general grumble told Choji the men had heard his request and their general mistrust of the Oni girl meant that they would comply, with the hopes that she would get another rebuking by The Boss.
Several hours passed, allowing the sun to cook away the morning mist. Choji was absorbed in the task of weaving grass into lengths of cord when Arika appeared before him, breathless and disheveled.
“Ah good.” He started. She cut him off before he could launch into his practiced lecture.
“The governor’s wagon is headed this way.” She said pausing to gulp air. “I don’t recognize the outriders, but they will be here in minutes. The prize looks too good —.” It was his turn to interrupt her. Holding his hand up to silence her, he called out to the band of men. In short order they were scrambling to positions near the road. Goblins, returning from gathering firewood, dropped the dry fuel and sprinted into position.
Choji raced with his newly repaired life-size puppet to a point that overlooked there road; Arika giving chase in his shadow. The two of them conspired to help Choji into the costume. At more than twice the height of a man, the assembled puppet looked every part the role of an angry forest spirit. The long sweeping dress hiding the puppet master and elevating the Yurei to epic proportions.
The clatter of wagon wheels on cobbled stones announced the arrival of their next mark. Choji signaled to Arika. Seconds later an otherworldly scream-song issued from her petite frame.
The felled tree worked as it had in the past, drawing the wagon up short and closing the trap on their prey. Choji leapt into action, hamming up the role. As expected the people on the road fled the wagon. Chaos erupted a moment later as the wagon lurched forward crashing through trees and bushes on its way to nowhere. A man with a bow, left standing without cover by the unexpected departure of the wagon, drew back the string on his bow attempting to get an angle on the false forest spirit. Choji felt a rush of excitement as he braced for the arrow that would land harmlessly in the dummy; an arrow that didn’t come. He had given the signal for the others to attack, but he saw no response from the surrounding woods. A moment later he felt burning grass behind him drawing near. Casting a glance behind him, he watched as Arika moved past him in a smoldering streak. A horseman was wading into the bushes in an attempt to counter the bandit’s attack. Choji instinctively unbuckled from the prop as he waded under the branches of the tree. The doll became snared in the low hanging boughs, locking it into an upright position. Choji, free of the rig, scrambled deeper into the bushes under the tree. Glancing behind him he watched with interest as his hours of labor went up in flame. A wave of anger threatened to override his reason, but he resisted the impulse.
These travelers were proving to be resourceful and not fearful enough of the Maiden of Kyojin forest. In a moment of clarity he made a visual sweep of the melee. His men had wrested control of the wagon from the travelers. A tattooed man struggled against the men. His movements calculated and punctuated by unexpected flourishes of magic. Two men on horseback rallied the scattered travelers in an effort to repel the assault. A monk fighting in the style of the western weaponless was standing toe to toe with Arika and not backing down. His goblin archers were launching volleys to no great effect. Though everything was in motion Choji could not tell which side was winning.
Leaping from his place of hiding he rushed the archer that was still trained on the burning doll, crossing the open ground his curved steel blade leading the way. The archer was dressed in heavy armor that slowed his movements. Choji aimed carefully for the lesser protected joint near the armpit and thrust. The archer rolled his shoulder forward placing the protective pauldron in the path of the blade, causing it to harmlessly deflect.
Choji kept his focus on the archer as he dropped his bow and drew a blade. Choji was aware that too many things were in motion around him to keep an accurate assessment of their situation. He heard Arika shout out another of her curses and somewhere deep inside pitied the poor individual that would spend his remaining days in a luckless cocoon. Trading blows with the archer, now swordsman. Choji began to feel his own luck running out. Then as if to mock him the foreigner launched an unbalanced attack that sent him sprawling to the ground.
Choji remembered that in every battle there appeared a moment on which fate of the battle hung in the balance. This felt like that moment and he suppressed the urge to celebrate his good fortune. Looking down the foreigner struggled against his own misfortune in an attempt to rise and continue the fight. Choji knew that his attentions were required elsewhere and this man was a distraction on which he could afford no further time. In his impatient state he spoke to the foreigner.
“Just stay down, and you’ll come to no harm!”
“I don’t surrender to corpses!” The foreigner growled in response.
Choji glanced around to see if indeed there were undead in the vicinity then puzzled at the strange reply when he saw none.
Foreigners, he thought.
Just then he heard Arika call out. She was being held in a compromising grip by the monk. She had called for the troop to stand down. Choji thought for a moment how strange were the circumstances. The man may be able to snap her neck, but in his experience, the little Oni was hard to pin down and likely harder to kill. Choji felt no real need to follow her request and assumed it might be a ruse for her to turn the tables on her captor.
“You surrender!” He countered. “We have your man and his life hangs in peril.”
The following minutes remain a fuzzy memory for Choji. Somewhere in the negotiated surrender the goblins ran away into the woods. His men laid down their weapons. The foreign swordsman climbed to his feet ad sheathed his weapon. A horseman made him promise to no longer raid the Daimyo’s road. And strangest of all the caravan they had attacked presented them with enough gold to feed his men for most of the winter.
Choji was lightheaded with joy. He had never imagined this day would turn out the way it did. The Oni girl was on the verge of another scolding for stealing the rice wine, but instead had negotiated the best deal the troop had ever seen, in exchange for guiding their caravan around the Maiden’s lair. And, they were gifted the Governor’s coach as a bonus.
Choji's head was still spinning as they lot of them ambushers and ambushees together soldiered deeper into the forest and toward the secret path past the Maiden’s recluse and the Hoseki City beyond.
