Yoritomo Chimori kicked his feet up on the low table, leaned back against the wall, and waited. Waiting was all a man could really do in a situation like this. He had no power, at least not at the moment, and his hosts knew it. They were biding their time, hoping he’d grow nervous and afraid. They were wasting their time. He had been through worse than this. He clasped his arms behind his head and whistled a low tune as he studied his surroundings. The magistrate’s offices were dusty and sparsely decorated. Whoever was the master of this house either had few servants to devote to cleaning or simply did not care. Either way bespoke a certain weakness of character in Chimori’s unknown opponent. He could use that to his advantage.

The door of the room quietly slid open and a pair of magistrates in dark orange armor filed in. They took up posts on either side of the door, watching Chimori with grim expressions. A third figure entered, a thin man in a kimono of slate gray, hair tied back in a severe topknot. His dark blue eyes fixed upon Chimori’s feet, still resting on the fine oak table. He gave a sour frown. Chimori smiled and kicked his feet back onto the floor.

“I assume you are the magistrate who requested my presence?” Chimori asked.

“I am called Yasuki Kazunori,” the magistrate replied in a prim voice. He seated himself carefully on the floor across from the Mantis. “You will refer to me as ‘magistrate’ or ‘sama.’ Is that clear?”

“A Yasuki?” Chimori replied with interest. “In Phoenix lands? Are you Crab or Crane?”

“You are not in a position to question me, Mantis,” the magistrate retorted.

Chimori resisted the urge to scowl, keeping his expression bland. No man talked to him like that, not even a clan magistrate. This Kazunori’s time would come, but later. For now, he would be patient and wait to see what was going on.

Kazunori unrolled a small scroll in one hand and glanced at it carefully, hiding its contents from Chimori. “You are Captain Yoritomo Chimori of the Mantis kobune, Jigoku’s Razor.”

“I am.”

“An ill name to give one’s ship don’t you think?” the magistrate asked, looking up at Chimori with a serious expression. “I was given to believe that sailors were superstitious. Why name give your ship a name that might call such attention from the Ninth Kami?”

“I believe bad luck will come, no matter what we do,” Chimori said, shrugging. “Better to bring it and get it over with, I say.”

“An interesting philosophy,” Kazunori answered. “I shall try to keep it in mind.”

“Well I’m glad I could offer you a little piece of enlightenment, sama,” Chimori answered. “May I go now?”

The magistrate regarded Chimori sternly. “We have not yet concluded our business here,” he said.

“And what is our business here?” Chimori asked. “I land my ship at your docks, hoping that I might sell some of my silks to your merchants, yet before I can even announce my arrival to the harbormaster I am approached by your deputies and dragged to this place. Have I committed some sort of crime, sama? Am I being interrogated?”

“Of course not,” Kazunori said with a light chuckle. “I do not conduct my interrogations personally. I leave such unsavory duties to Kai, my torturer. He has a talent for obtaining the information I require with a minimum of effort. At any rate, interrogations are for criminals. You are not a criminal, are you, Captain?”

Chimori smiled slightly. The serious expression on the magistrate’s face suggested this was not the time for a humorous answer. “Of course not,” he said.

“Excellent, excellent,” the magistrate replied, sighing deeply as if such news came as a great relief. A servant entered the room, quietly depositing a teapot and two cups on the table before departing. “Relations between Crab and Mantis are not as friendly as they once were, as you no doubt already knew. I would hate to add to them by arresting such a prominent Mantis captain.” The magistrate gave a tight smile.

“Well you have no worries in that regard,” Chimori answered, taking some amusement at the fact that Kazunori had accidentally let his clan affiliation slip. “I have done nothing wrong. Why would you believe otherwise?”

“Rumor travels swiftly, and your clan has a tarnished reputation of late,” the magistrate answered. “Surely you must have heard tales of the Emerald Champion’s crusade against Mantis piracy?”

“Mantis piracy,” Chimori answered with a laugh. “There can be no such thing. The esteemed Emerald Champion means well, I am sure, but he misunderstands my clan’s activities. It is a samurai’s duty to protect the territory the Emperor has given him. A Phoenix does not expect to venture into Lion lands unchallenged; neither should any expect to journey the open waves and not answer to the Mantis. The Daughter of Storms only seeks tribute from those who cross the seas without Mantis permission. A just share of that tribute finds its way to the Emperor’s coffers. It is only those few who seek to challenge the Mantis’ right to rule the waves that find her unforgiving, and she has made reparations to the dead even though none are required of her.”

“You know this,” the magistrate replied, pouring himself a cup of tea. “I know this. Yet it is often difficult to make a man like Yasuki Hachi understand matters as complex as this. Our Emerald Champion has led a sheltered life, safe in the pampered courts of the Crane. He does not know the realities that men such as you and I must face, and by all accounts he is not a clever man. He has no real talent at negotiation. The Emperor issues commands, and he follows them blindly. When the Sparrow daimyo rages that his cousin has been slain at sea, the Emerald Champion must resolve the problem. The rest of the Empire sees their beloved Emerald Champion hunting the Mantis and they declare your clan a band of marauding pirates. It is an unfortunate situation, but it is the situation in which we find ourselves.”

“Strange that you mention the Sparrow,” Chimori said. “It was my ship that sent the Suzume vessel to the bottom of the sea.”

“I am sure he forced your hand,” Kazunori replied.

Chimori leaned back against the wall again, studying the magistrate’s face. “So this is why I am here?” he asked. “You wished to insure that I was not a pirate?”

Kazunori nodded, his expression blank. He poured tea into the second cup.

Chimori sighed in disgust and rose to his feet.

“But while you are here,” Kazunori said, looking up at the Mantis calmly. “I have a business proposition for you.”

“You should not do business with pirates, magistrate,” Chimori said with a sneer, walking past him.

“I apologize if I insulted you, Captain,” Kazunori answered, not looking over his shoulder. “Yet I was interested in obtaining certain commodities of interest from Yobanjin lands. I had thought your aid might be uniquely invaluable.”

Chimori stopped suddenly, hands balling into fists at his sides. So this was his game.

“Tea?” Kazunori asked, looking back at the Mantis and holding up a cup.

Chimori returned to his seat, accepting the cup of tea with a severe nod. The magistrate gestured, dismissing the guards behind him.

“Now, let us talk of business,” Kazunori said with a smug smile.

“What do you know of the Yobanjin?” Chimori asked.

“Many things,” Kazunori answered. “I know the Empire views them as primitive, uncouth barbarians but that is far from the truth. The Yobanjin are a highly advanced people, almost as advanced as we are. Ten years ago the tribes united and would have overwhelmed the Isawa lands if not for Toturi Tsudao and the First Legion. The only things that prevent them from becoming a serious threat to Rokugan are their small numbers and the fierce divisions between their tribes since their defeat at the Sword’s hands. Yet there is at least one tribe, the Sons of the Mountain, who believe that they might unite the tribes and forge a Yobanjin nation worthy of respect.”

“You seem to know a great deal,” Chimori observed, tea forgotten in his hand.

“A Yasuki often finds it is in his best interests to be informed on a variety of matters,” Kazunori answered. “For instance, I know that the Yobanjin value victory in combat as a symbol of one’s worth – much as we do. These Sons of the Mountain might gain the favor they require if they won a significant victory against another tribe… even more against their southern neighbors. The Phoenix are by coincidence quite vulnerable of late due to the Bloodspeaker attacks. Such a window of opportunity is small, and the Sons of the Mountain must act quickly. Haste often makes men desperate, and one man’s desperation is another man’s opportunity.”

“Why tell me all of this?” Chimori asked.

“Please, Chimori, do not feign ignorance,” Kazunori said. “I know what you have been doing. You command several ships within the Mantis fleets, fleets dedicated to ‘protecting’ Mantis waters against the invasion by the fearsome Sparrow and other such enemies of the clan. I imagine it must be difficult for Lady Kumiko to keep track of where all of their reclaimed cargo goes. A share for the Mantis, a share for the Emperor, the rest offered back to its clan of origin for an inflated finder’s fee… who should notice if some of this treasure finds its way to the Sons of the Mountain, in return for whatever exotic treasures they alone might offer you?”

“I suspect you are once again making accusations that you cannot support, Kazunori,” Chimori said, setting his tea cup on the table with a scowl. “I grow tired of it.”

Kazunori shook his head. “I arrested one of your deck hands last week on suspicion of opium dealing,” he replied. “I found many unusual Yobanjin artifacts in his possession. After some encouragement from Kai, he told me of the strange harbors that Jigoku’s Razor has visited of late. Naturally a mere deck hand knew little of your true plans, but the rest I surmised on my own, given my own knowledge of the Yobanjin.”

“Do you plan to arrest me on the word of an opium-addled peasant?” Chimori asked with a laugh. “I am a Yoritomo!”

“I do not plan to arrest you,” Kazunori said. “I do not wish to stop you. As I said, I offer you a business proposition. I can make your job easier. I can arrange travel papers so that your couriers can move unhindered. I can divert Hachi’s kobune so that they do not intersect the travel routes of your own ships. I can even redirect outgoing Phoenix vessels so that they fall into your ambushes. Does any of this interest you?”

Chimori smiled, but held on to his initial suspicions. “That interests me a great deal,” he said. “What do you want in return?”

“My own fair share,” Kazunori said. “Ten percent of whatever you scour from the hulls of the ships you ransack. In addition, I wish to meet the chief of the Sons of the Mountain so that I can make further arrangements with him directly. This will be a partnership between the three of us.”

“You will understand if I am somewhat reluctant to believe that an Emerald Magistrate stationed in Phoenix lands would take a bribe to help supply a barbarian invasion?”

“Surely you are joking,” Kazunori said with a sneer. “Frigid cold, endless twisting forests, and accursed Phoenix arrogance. I am an Emerald Magistrate yet the lowliest bushi here looks down at me like a stumbling clod, assuming I am a fool merely because I am a Crab. Why would a man in my place not despise the Phoenix? The money is merely so that I can purchase the favors I require for a more comfortable assignment. Plus, I assume that part of our arrangement will include advance notice so I can be gone from here before the invasion begins. This is what I wish to discuss with the chief.”

“Of course,” Chimori said, smiling as he imagined the possibilities. “Perhaps this will be quite an equitable arrangement, sama.”

“Sama?” Kazunori replied, sipping his tea with a grin. “We are to be partners. Call me Kazunori.”

The Mantis Clan called this island Aramasu’s Pride. Discovered only a few years ago off the coast of Phoenix lands, it was named for Yoritomo’s heir. Yoritomo Aramasu brought their clan its most incredible, if most secret, victory, standing alone against the Ivory Kingdoms while the rest of the Great Clans were consumed in the War of Spirits. It was a place of great natural beauty, featuring vast mountains and powerful waterfalls. It was extraordinary, solitary, and generally ignored by the rest of the Empire – a fitting place to be named for Aramasu.

Yoritomo Chimori stood on the shores of Aramasu’s Pride, watching the waves crest over distant reefs. Approaching the island was a difficult task, a venture possible only for the most talented Mantis and Yobanjin sailors. Yasuki Kazunori paced the sands nearby, clutching a blanket over his shoulders.

“Feeling better now?” Chimori asked.

“Quite,” Kazunori answered, taking a deep breath. “Being on dry land again helps a great deal.”

Chimori nodded, watching the magistrate cautiously. He did not like the man, and he did not trust him. Once this deal was made, Chimori’s share of his own work would grow significantly smaller, but the number of available ships would increase if the magistrate fulfilled his promises. Even so, he did not appreciate being blackmailed.

The sudden sound of a hunting horn resounded in the distance. The Yobanjin were approaching, having landed on the opposite side of the island out of caution. Kazunori snapped to attention, moving beside Chimori and waiting for the barbarians to arrive. A band of Mantis sailors gathered around them, trying to appear casual but prepared for anything. Chimori might make deals with no barbarians, but he was no fool. If the Yobanjin became violent, he was prepared to deal with them, or even with Kazunori if he made negotiations difficult. No one would look for the body of a lone magistrate this far from the mainland.

After a time, a dozen Yobanjin warriors emerged from the forest and made their way across the beach. They looked very much like Unicorn, with stocky builds and wide, flat faces. The armor they wore was strange, composed of overlapping metal panels stitched to supple leather. They wore conical helmets and carried curved blades on their belts, some festooned on the dull edge with many rings.

The leader stepped forward, an older man with a thin grey moustache and a series of strange spots tattooed across his forehead. Unlike the rest of the Yobanjin, his features looked distinctly Rokugani. He wore a katana and wakizashi at his hip. When he saw Kazunori, his eyes suddenly widened with rage.

“Chimori, you colossal idiot,” the Yobanjin said in perfect Rokugani as he reached for his swords. “Do you realize who this man is?”

Chimori looked back at Kazunori. The magistrate had thrown his blanket aside, revealing a shining Emerald breastplate. His sword was in his hand almost instantaneously, parrying the Yobanjin chief’s twin swords with startling speed and grace. The duel was over in seconds, Kazunori shattering the chieftain’s katana and taking his head with a single perfect stroke.

The Mantis sailors and Yobanjin barbarians both charged Kazunori as one, but Chimori drew back. A flicker of motion in the forest drew his attention, and he ducked behind a boulder just as arrows flew from the underbrush. Tsuruchi archers in the armor of Imperial Legionnaires burst into the clearing, rushing to Kazunori’s side with sword and bow. Quickly realizing he was outmatched, Chimori dropped his kama to the sand and held out his hands in surrender, ordering his men do the same. The Yobanjin were not so willing to admit defeat, fighting till the last man as Legionnaires overwhelmed all opposition.

In a matter of minutes it was over. The man who had called himself Kazunori flicked the blood from his blade and returned it to its saya. He stood before Yoritomo Chimori, one hand open above the hilt of his sword, as if offering a gift – the dueling stance of the Kakita. Chimori said nothing, only bowed his head in defeat.

“Yasuki Hachi,” Chimori said. “Damn me for being a fool.”

“It is as I warned you, Chimori-san,” Hachi said with a shrug. “I have no real talent at negotiation.”

“Feeling any better, Hachi-san?” Yoritomo Kumiko asked.

The Emerald Champion smiled wanly, sipping cautiously from his cup as the ship pitched beneath him. “A bit,” he replied. “The Third Kama is certainly a finer ship than Jigoku’s Razor, and its captain is finer company.”

The Daughter of Storms raised an eyebrow at Hachi. “Is that so?” she asked sitting back on the edge of the deck and looking up at Hachi with an amused grin. “I thought I was a pirate.”

“A beautiful pirate,” Hachi corrected.

Kumiko’s eyes narrowed.

“The ‘pirate’ was a joke though the rest was sincere,” Hachi said, holding out a hand with a quick laugh. “Pray take no offense, my lady.”

“You are forgiven,” she replied. “If only because I think it might raise some eyebrows if I sailed into port minus an Emerald Champion… and because honestly I am both impressed and confused by what you have done here.”

“Merely fulfilling my part of the agreement,” he said. “No doubt you will fulfill yours as admirably.”

Kumiko nodded. “I will cease my clan’s attacks on all non-hostile vessels for two years. That should give the Empire time enough to realize that the seas belong to us and find other routes or make arrangements for safe travel. Yet you are too modest, Hachi-sama. You could have dispatched any number of capable magistrates to investigate Chimori’s crimes. Why risk yourself?”

“Why should I not?” Hachi answered with a shrug. “I would not demand one of my magistrates accept a mission I was not prepared to perform myself. This was important, so I saw to it personally. I did not expect Chimori to recognize me without my armor and retinue. Few people do.”

Kumiko smirked. “The Yobanjin chief did.”

Hachi’s smile faded slightly. “And that was the final piece of the puzzle, the part I didn’t understand. Why would the Yobanjin seek glory attacking the Empire after Tsudao defeated them so handily years ago? Surely even with the Phoenix weakened, the Yobanjin would realize that the Legions would rally to their defense. But their leader was not a Yobanjin.”

“You knew him?” Kumiko asked.

“Once he was Mirumoto Gengyo, an Imperial Legionnaire, lieutenant to the shamed general, Junnosuke,” Hachi said. “Junnosuke earned his first measure of fame fighting the Yobanjin. When he was exiled, many of his followers chose to leave the Dragon with him. I suppose one, at least, found a place among his former enemies, came to lead a tribe, and sought vengeance against the Empire. I am fortunate he has been away from his Mirumoto brethren so long – his swordsmanship skills had clearly deteriorated.”

“And Chimori sought to profit from Gengyo’s vengeance,” Kumiko said with a sigh. “Disgusting. I would prefer that this matter be kept as quiet as possible, Hachi-sama.”

“So long as the seas remain safe for two years, that will not be a problem,” the Emerald Champion answered. “What will become of Chimori now that he has been surrendered to your custody? Will he be executed?”

“For a crime that never officially happened?” Kumiko asked. “Of course not. He will be reassigned. Given our recent diplomatic difficulties, I think a new ambassador to Sparrow lands is in order. Chimori should serve well, given his past experience with the Suzume.”

Hachi’s eyes widened. “The Sparrow daimyo’s nephew trained with Kakita Noritoshi himself,” he replied.

“Oh?” Kumiko answered, obviously feigning surprise.

“I am glad we are no longer enemies, Daughter of Storms,” Hachi said, sitting back on the deck beside her.