Of all the Great Clans, perhaps none placed so much weight on tradition as the Phoenix Clan. This is not to say that the other clans did not show due respect to the past. A samurai was expected to revere his ancestors and uphold his clan’s customs. In the lands of the Phoenix, tradition took a somewhat different flavor. As a clan of scholars, the Phoenix knew the purpose behind tradition.

Memories of the chaotic time before Rokugan still echoed in the dreams of their priests and rode upon the whispers of the spirits that fueled their magic. As a clan, they thus had a great deal of respect for ancient things. Many of their fortresses and temples were located in remote areas, far from areas of any apparent strategic importance. The Phoenix tolerated this because that was the way things were; their ancestors chose these places for a reason and such was not for them to question.

Of course in any given group there are those who defy tradition. The Phoenix Clan’s newest palace was testament to that fact. Seven years ago, this place was a simple barracks in Honored Treaty City. When war between the Lion and Phoenix seemed imminent, Shiba Aikune used Isawa’s Last Wish to create the building from the lumber of the nearby forest. Sadly, Aikune had been a better warrior than an architect, and at the time his mastery of the Last Wish’s power was far more adept at destroying than creating. The samurai later stationed in the barracks complained of floors tilted at odd angles, chilling drafts, low ceilings, and poorly constructed passageways that left some areas of the building entirely inaccessible. When it became clear that war between Lion and Phoenix was not to occur, the Shiba gladly withdrew from the accursed barracks.

The structure remained unoccupied for over a year until someone came along that saw the potential in having a defensible headquarters in such close proximity to Toshi Ranbo. Peasant laborers were immediately hired to repair and expand the barracks into a fortified palace. The current owner found the resulting structure to his liking. The building’s idiosyncrasies were a pleasant reminder that even magic was an imperfect tool if the wielder did not understand it. Though its strategic value was unquestionable, the clan as a whole saw little value in it because of its imperfect origins. With a bit of effort, what once was forgotten and disdained was now one of the most impregnable fortresses in Rokugan.

In many ways, Shiro Henka reminded the Shogun of himself.

Kaneka knelt in meditation in his chambers on the highest floor of Shiro Henka. The fragrant smoke of an incense brazier was the only luxury he allowed himself in these spartan chambers. Before him stood a suit of battle-scarred armor and a magnificent daisho resting upon a lacquered stand. The armor was a relic of the past, the mon of the Akodo family emblazoned on its right shoulder to guide the wearer’s sword. The sword was a reminder of the present, a katana in a brilliant orange saya, its hilt wrapped in red and gold silk. The sound of movement on the nightingale floors behind him drew Kaneka’s attention. He peered over one shoulder to find his lieutenant standing at attention in the doorway.

“Danjuro,” Kaneka said, his voice its typical growl. “Are our troops ready to march?”

“Hai, sama,” Danjuro replied sharply. “That is not why I disturb you, for I am aware that you know how efficient your own soldiers are.”

Kaneka raised an eyebrow. “What has happened?”

“A messenger, sir,” Danjuro replied. “A shisha, from the look of him.”

Kaneka scowled and picked up his daisho, tucking the swords into his obi as he rose to his feet. “Send him in,” he said.

Danjuro nodded and quickly departed, to be replaced only a moment later by a young man in plain brown robes. The shisha knelt before the Shogun. On his back he wore an unusual mon, eight half-moons arranged in a star-like pattern around a central circle. The Miya were a family of heralds and messengers who owed fealty to no single clan, but rather kept lines of communication open between the Eight Great Clans and the Emperor. The herald did not say a word but offered gilded scroll case, sealed with the Imperial chrysanthemum. Kaneka took the scroll and broke the seal, letting the wax fall upon the floor. He considered the contents for a long moment. His eyes showed growing irritation but no surprise. Kaneka swore in a low voice and threw the message into the brazier.

“Return to Toshi Ranbo with this message,” he said. “Tell my brother I am coming.”

The herald nodded and departed, eager to be away from the Shogun’s anger.

Violence Behind Courtliness City was a place where one quickly adjusted to the unusual. For decades, Toshi Ranbo wo Shien Shite Reigisaho had been a site of endless conflict, with Lion and Crane constantly seeking to supplant one another’s control. When Toturi Naseru became Emperor of Rokugan, Toshi Ranbo was named as his capital. Though the open combat ceased, one could hardly say the city became a peaceful place.

Toshi Ranbo was now the heart of the Empire. Thus it had become a battlefield for the most influential and powerful courtiers in Rokugan, as well as a target for all those who might threaten the Empire. A recent fire had ravaged one quarter of the city. The Rain of Blood had caused such fierce rioting that the Emperor’s guard were forced to march into the Tainted storm to restore order. One could not live here for any length of time and not, in some way, become inured to strange events.

Even so, the jaded citizens could not help but meet the arrival of the Shogun’s army with interest, eager to see whether the Shogun had finally arrived to usurp his half-brother’s rule. When Kaneka and his troops paused a safe distance from the city walls and awaited an Imperial escort, most went about their business with relief. Kaneka rode through the city at a casual pace, pausing in many areas to study the damage done to the Imperial City during the hellish Rain. He knew Naseru well enough to realize the Emperor would need no time to prepare for his arrival – he had expected him to come. Even so, to give him time to prepare a proper greeting would appear courteous in the eyes of the court. Though Kaneka found the ways of politics nauseating, he could not help but notice in the last few years he had become somewhat adept in them.

Though he cared little for ostentation, Kaneka could not help but be impressed by the Imperial Palace. The building was even larger than it had been during his last visit, and was constructed with a combination of style and pragmatic defensibility that he knew must have been borne of his Naseru’s influence. Kaneka would readily admit that in the five years since his half-brother’s coronation, Naseru had spared no expense to make Toshi Ranbo as glorious as its predecessor, Otosan Uchi. Truly this was a city worth fighting for.

Kaneka stepped through the threshold of the Imperial Palace alone, leaving his troops to find accommodations in the Imperial barracks. He carefully kept his face expressionless as guards and attendants scattered to announce his arrival. He did not look forward to the hours ahead, the endless introductions that were part and parcel of the Emperor’s court. He preferred a proper battlefield. There, at least, one’s enemies had the common courtesy to reveal themselves.

“Kaneka-sama, where is your sour expression?” said a familiar voice, “My kinsmen have gone to great lengths to make the court uncomfortable for you. Do you truly wish to disappoint them?”

Kaneka looked toward the source of the voice with a surprised expression, quickly broadening into a smile. A pair of courtiers stood before him, dressed in the fine cerulean silks of the Crane. One was relatively young for a courtier, his black hair tied back in a formal topknot. The other man wore his long white hair loose, silvered with age rather than bleached white like many Crane. “Tanitsu-san,” Kaneka said, bowing to the younger man. “It has been too long.”

“That it has,” Tanitsu replied. “To be truthful I was preparing to make a journey to Shiro Henka when the Rain delayed me. I have this for you.” Tanitsu reached into the wide sleeve of his kimono, drawing out a sealed scroll and offering it to Kaneka.

The Shogun regarded Tanitsu curiously as he accepted the message. Tanitsu only smiled. “Doji Yasuyo would not trust mere peasants with such a message, and would not waste a military courier on something so personal. I, of course, had nothing better to do than deliver a message. I am only the Imperial Advisor, after all.”

Kaneka chuckled. “I like Yasuyo more every time I meet her,” he replied. “Perhaps this marriage might work after all.”

“You should expect no less from a betrothal arranged by Doji Akiko,” the older courtier said. “She is an excellent judge of character.”

“Who are you?” Kaneka asked, looking at the man sharply.

Tanitsu laughed. “Please allow me to introduce my friend and former teacher, Kakita Munemori.”

Kaneka turned from Tanitsu to Munemori, his expression hardening slightly. “Konnichiwa,” he said formally. “Another Crane sycophant looking to use my friendship with Tanitsu and betrothal to Yasuyo to gain my favor?”

Munemori cackled. “Of course,” he said. “Am I that obvious?”
Kaneka frowned. “We’ve met before,” he said. “What do you want?”
“Forgive me, Lord Shogun,” he replied. “I am a great admirer of Tanitsu’s book, The Forgotten Son. I merely hoped to meet the extraordinary man behind the tales under less confrontational circumstances, and thus far I am not disappointed.”

“Tanitsu names you as his friend,” Kaneka replied. “In my eyes, that grants you a measure of leniency. Do not waste that by telling how amusing I am, old man.”

“Lord Shogun, I am hurt,” Munemori replied. “And when I think of the gift I have come to offer you.”

“Gift?” Kaneka answered warily.

“More an offer of advisement,” Munemori corrected. “Much like your own home in the Phoenix lands, what is now the Imperial Palace was once a much less impressive structure. This was once the palatial estates of the Crane Clan… and occasionally the Lion Clan, depending who ruled the city at any given time. It was my duty and honor to spend many long hours in these halls, ostensibly pursuing the interests of my clan but in reality pursuing maidens half my age and causing no end of trouble. At any rate, my unique service in this place has given me a unique knowledge of this structure, including many obscure passages frequented only by the Imperial Guard. With me as your guide, you might gain your audience with the Emperor with a minimum of inconvenient introductions to the other members of the court.”

“In return for being irritated by you alone,” Kaneka replied.

Munemori shrugged. “I leave that choice to you, of course,” he said. “The Chancellor’s mad nephew Kwanchai was greatly looking forward to meeting you, and of course the Sparrow Clan delegate is eager to continue the epic history of his clan which I understand he began to share with you upon your last visit. Is it true that he only made his way through the first four hours last time? Believe me from experience, he has a great deal left to tell.”

“Show me the way, Munemori-san,” Kaneka said.

Munemori smiled, as if the Shogun’s answer did not surprise him. He gestured toward a hallway to their left. They walked in silence for some time, which Kaneka appreciated. Most courtiers had a pronounced penchant for filling the air with useless chatter. It was a habit Kaneka found endlessly irritating. It was, in fact, one of the reasons he got along well with Tanitsu. Tanitsu preferred to listen, to observe, and spoke only when he had something useful to say. Kaneka wondered if Tanitsu had learned the habit from this Munemori, or if the old courtier was carefully restraining his urge to babble as a calculated attempt to curry favor. In either case, Kaneka appreciated the silence and increased his respect for the old Crane, if only slightly.

In time, the trio arrived at the Emperor’s chambers. The stern guards turned Munemori and Tanitsu away, admitting only Kaneka. The Shogun was surprised to find himself in a large library, surrounded by tall shelves bursting with books, scrolls, and other crumbling volumes of ancient lore. Kaneka saw no guards here, but he could feel their eyes upon him. The Emperor was never without protectors, even if he occasionally preferred the illusion of privacy. Toturi Naseru sat at a low table in the center of the room. He was garbed in a simple black kimono, with his trademark silken patch covering his right eye.

“Histories?” Kaneka asked.

“Our Empire faces an enemy from the distant past,” the Emperor said. “I have found it useful to familiarize myself with that past.”

“A wise tactic,” Kaneka said.

“My agents tell me that Akodo Ijiasu is dead,” Naseru replied, still studying his document. “I understand he was like a brother to you during your days among the Lion. You have my sympathies.”

“He died in battle, against a worthy opponent, Toturi-sama,” Kaneka replied. “A Lion could wish for no finer end.”

“Of course,” Naseru replied. “It is a shame, then, that the Lion’s last samurai has died.”

Kaneka frowned at Naseru. “What do you mean?”

Naseru looked up at Kaneka with a confused expression. “Naturally I assumed he must be the last,” he replied. “The Akodo must have no other heroes to follow his legacy. The Matsu must have no more fierce Battle Maidens to avenge his death. No Ikoma to tell his tale. No Kitsu to tend his shrine. Why else would you prepare your armies to march on Kaeru Toshi if the Lion could not ably deal with the situation in Kaeru Toshi?”

Kaneka said nothing.

“Sit,” Naseru said, indicating the seat across from him without looking up from his scroll.

“I prefer to stand,” Kaneka replied.

Naseru looked at Kaneka with a cold expression. “You are forming a habit of obeying my commands only when they are convenient, Shogun,” he said. “I will remind you I am still Emperor. Sit.”

Kaneka fought to keep his face carefully expressionless. He seated himself across from the Emperor. “Why do you insult me, Toturi-sama?” Kaneka asked in an even voice. “How have I disobeyed your will? Is it not the Shogun’s duty to maintain peace in the Empire? How is my plan to restore order in Kaeru Toshi a violation of your will?”

Naseru sighed, studying his document again. “As you may recall,” he said, “you remain Shogun due only to your promise to renounce all ties to those who once served you. Kaeru Toshi is home to a conflict between your former allies, the Akodo family on one side and the Khan on the other. You cannot possibly interfere without aiding a former ally.”

“And you assume that I wish to join the growing war?” Kaneka asked. “Perhaps my intent was to enforce a peaceful solution between the two sides.”
“Ah,” Naseru replied. “The Khan and the Akodo, united once more in peace, with the Shogun’s army at their head.” He paused to set down his scroll and regard Kaneka again. “Forgive me if this is an outcome I discourage.”

Kaneka’s expressionless mask twisted into a deep scowl. “Are you that paranoid, Naseru?” he snapped suddenly. “Do you still believe I would strike against you?”

“I would not doubt my Shogun’s honor,” Naseru replied with a small smile, “but neither would I shame him with such an unseemly temptation. Do you believe that Rokugan is without its share of defenders, that this situation cannot be resolved without your personal intervention?”

“If not me, who?” Kaneka asked. “The Legions? Most of the Legionnaires are Lion samurai, and are already involved in the war.”

“The situation will be resolved,” Naseru replied more sternly. “Must I remind you that it is not important for a soldier to understand his commands, only that he obey them? You are a soldier, Kaneka. Obey.”

“I cannot obey blindly while the Empire’s two greatest armies destroy one another and the Bloodspeakers wait on our doorstep,” Kaneka replied.

“Ah, the Bloodspeakers,” Naseru answered. “I am pleased to find that you already agree with me that they are the true danger here.”

Kaneka regarded the Emperor suspiciously. He had the uneasy feeling he had just ventured into one of Naseru’s verbal traps.

“As you said, it is the Shogun’s duty to maintain peace,” Naseru continued. “The Rain of Blood was an unconscionable act of war, by any standard. As we speak, Sezaru gathers a force of shugenja to root out the Bloodspeakers’ hidden cells across the Empire, but our true enemy is their leader - Iuchiban. Crab scouts believe the Bloodspeaker has established a temporary base in the City of the Lost, filling the void left by Daigotsu. Inevitably, he will march upon the Empire.”

“You would send me to the City of the Lost?” Kaneka asked in a bitter voice.

“Would that I could,” Naseru replied, “Sadly we face the same shortage of jade today that we faced assaulting Daigotsu five years ago, and there too few of Isawa’s clay soldier’s left to mount a serious assault. I fear the most we can do is to guard the Wall and wait. No doubt your familiarity with the Crab Clan’s lands will be an advantage.” Naseru paused for a moment, considering something. “It occurs to me some members of the Crab may still bear you ill will over your illegal seizure of the Yasuki lands years ago, but I’m certain the same dedication to peace you have demonstrated to me here will win them over. I wish you good luck, brother.”

Kaneka looked at Naseru for a long moment. “When will you cease to see me as a threat, Naseru?” he asked.

“When you cease to be one,” the Emperor replied.

Kaneka strode through the Imperial barracks with a look of disdain. Not for the first time he took some gratification in the fact that he refused to make his home in the decadent Imperial City. The barracks reminded him more of a wealthy merchant’s bedroom than soldiers’ quarters. Once his soldiers were well rested he would move them from this place. As much as he despised the idea of wasting his time at the Carpenter Wall rather than marching to Kaeru Toshi, at least his soldiers would not grow weak and lazy in Hida lands. The sooner he began making arrangements to leave this place, the better. Kaneka scowled in irritation as he rounded the corner to find Kakita Munemori chatting with a pretty young Phoenix samurai-ko. The girl quickly stopped giggling and bowed formally to her commander.

“Find Danjuro,” he ordered her. “Tell him we march in the morning.”

She murmured her quick assent and hurried off.

“A sweet girl,” Munemori mused. “You keep your soldiers in fine shape, Shogun. My compliments.”

“Stop corrupting my soldiers, Crane,” Kaneka grumbled as he strode past Munemori.

“Fair enough,” the old courtier said, following Kaneka without any invitation. “No sense in making any attachments, I suppose, with your army marching upon the Wall and all. I mean, that’s the sort of place where one comes finds glory or finds the green fields of Yomi. In either case her standards will be too high to trifle with me in short order.”

“Why are you following me, old man?” Kaneka asked.

“As I said, you are an extraordinary man, Lord Shogun,” Munemori said, though he now spoke in a low voice so as not to be overheard. “A cunning tactician, a capable statesman, a brilliant leader, and most importantly a man who understands the truth.”

“Explain,” Kaneka said. He stopped walking, turning to face the smaller man.

“You, of all people, understand the true nature of power,” he said. “You know that Naseru, for all his intelligence and talent, is merely a man. A single man cannot rule this Empire, Lord Shogun. Even your noble father proved that when his death threw Rokugan into chaos for two years. Naseru may call himself the Son of Heaven but he is no god.”

“What are you suggesting?” he asked warily.

“Merely that you consider an alliance with other like-minded individuals,” Munemori replied.

“To overthrow the Emperor?” Kaneka asked.

“Not as such,” Munemori answered. “Rokugan is a land that cleaves to its traditions. The people may always need the security inherent in an Emperor, but they cannot be forced to endure the instability of rule by a single, flawed man. When the Emperor fails, as he has failed in forbidding you to resolve the conflict in Kaeru Toshi due to his own selfish interests, it is clear that true power does not belong in one man’s hands. We require the Emperor to be a symbol, that is all, while men and women truly capable of ruling the Empire do so in his stead.”

“You risk a great deal in telling me this, Munemori,” Kaneka said. “Naseru’s ears are everywhere.”

“I am no fool, Kaneka,” Munemori said. “I chose this time and place carefully. Note there are no guards about, no servants. Even your own soldiers are practicing on the palace grounds.”

“How do you know I won’t report your treachery to my brother myself?”

“Feel free,” Munemori said. “I have lived a long, interesting life. I have no regrets. I may appear weak, but I assure you I am resistant to torture such that I will not reveal my conspirators. In the end what I have told you will be written off as an old man’s lunacy. I am already a black sheep among my family so no one will truly be surprised. Of course your friend Tanitsu may be horrified to see his mentor shamed in such a way, and might blame you for my death. This is assuming, of course, that the Emperor believed you and did not seize the opportunity to make you look like a fool.”

“You are the fool, Crane, if you think Naseru will willingly submit to being a figurehead,” Kaneka said.

“Naseru is an intelligent man,” Munemori said. “If sufficient force is arrayed against him, he will realize he is outmatched and make the best of the situation, as he always does.”

“And you believe you have sufficient force?” Kaneka asked.

“Soon,” Munemori said.

“I will not raise arms against Naseru and Sezaru,” Kaneka said. “That Kaneka died in the City of the Lost.”

“I had hoped you would say that, Kaneka-sama,” Munemori replied. “Some days I fear there are many among our number too eager to accomplish our objectives through bloodshed. Power and influence we have in abundance, but I fear honor and ambition are qualities paired too rarely in a samurai. This is why I approached you.”

“Tell me more,” the Shogun said.