State of the Empire, Week 2

An Account of the Divine Empress’ Subjects during This Time of War

The third week of the Month of the Tiger, year 1171

Most Divine Empress,

 This time of tumult is perhaps greater than any I can recall. Never have I seen such incredible movement of forces throughout the Empire. Even during the times of a vacant throne, there was not such chaos. My heralds have worked tirelessly, exhausting entire stables’ worth of steeds and driving themselves to the point of collapse, but none have requested relief. I have never been prouder of my family’s service to the throne.

 A number of matters of grave concern have taken place this past week, and I feel they merit careful consideration. However, it has always been my philosophy that the honorable actions of samurai should be given precedence, and for that reason it is my great privilege to inform you of the valor and virtue of your servants.

 Despite the tremendous hardships facing the Phoenix in their own lands, the ongoing struggle of the Scorpion to control the outbreak of plague within their provinces has resulted in the Master of Air bringing a force of magistrates under her command to the Scorpion’s western border in an attempt to stymie the spread of the plague. Some have wondered why the Phoenix would not first have aided the Crane, but of course the Isawa have been attempting to assist the Crane in that regard for some time. Additionally it appears that the combination of the plague and the threat of the Destroyers growing ever closer to the Scorpion’s southern border has appealed to the Phoenix Clan’s sense of altruism, which is a welcome sight to this servant of the throne.

 The war in the south has stretched the resources of many clans nearly to the breaking point, but recent massive flooding in Earthquake Fish Bay has proven that the tenet of compassion is not lost, even on the most severe of your most humble servants. When the floodwaters threatened several towns and even the people of Clear Water Village, the awesome power of the Storm Riders, under the direction of Moshi Sayoko, were moved in by the Mantis Champion to mitigate the worst effects of the weather, giving the forces of the Hiruma family time to evacuate the most important individuals and holdings. Some valuable commodities were lost to the flooding, but the swift work of the Mantis and Crab prevented a vastly worse situation, one that could have significantly impacted the war on the southern front, from unfolding.

 In my last report I addressed in no uncertain terms the contempt with which I hold those who would prey upon your humble servants in a time of war. The bandit force operating in the southwestern region of the Empire appears to have been dealt a terrible blow by the forces of the Lion and the subsequent discovery of an attack by the so-called Spider Clan.

  I had thought the group destroyed, but it seems otherwise. Apparently a tattooed monk of the Dragon Clan, one my herald identified as Togashi Shintaro, tracked and located the larger force in the unaligned lands between the Crane and Scorpion holdings. There, an allied force of Crane and Dragon, led by Daidoji Kikaze and a decorated officer from the Imperial Legions named Mirumoto Ishino, whom I have not met, trapped the bandits in upon the plains and destroyed them. My heralds report that Kikaze-sama ordered the remains burned to ensure that there could be no reanimation, given the heavy plague infestation in that region. I do not know if this is the end of their predations upon the Empire or not, for there maybe more of them, but it is my hope that the loyal clans of the Empress have meted out your most righteous justice upon them.

 Were it not for my absolute faith in the endorsement of your reign by the Celestial Heavens, Divine One, I would find the rash of natural disasters plaguing the Empire of enormous concern. The plague itself is of course a calamity of the first order, and the flash floods I described earlier are of lesser but still significant concern. A recent earthquake near Seikitsu Pass caused significant damage to the region and could impede the movement of supplies and forces from the Unicorn lands to the southern front. Keenly aware of the need for proper supply and logistics, the Lion immediately moved a small force into the region, a force under the command of an officer named Akodo Kurogane. The Scorpion have lent assistance as well, as they are fully aware that if the southern front continues to fall back, the war will reach their doorstep. I personally find the strange bonds created by the war comforting, although I regret that it has required such devastation to make the Great Clans overlook their long-standing grievances. The Scorpion, working alongside with the Lion? The growing bond between the Crab and Scorpion as they try to find a means to fight the Destroyers? It does my heart good to see such things grow between the clans. Perhaps, when this war is over… but I will not put it to words yet. I do not wish to invite ill will with my presumption.

 By far the most disturbing incident that took place this week, my lady, is one that one of my most trusted subordinates witnessed. The account is so strange that, should it have come from any other, I would doubt its veracity. However, Miya Anzai is, to my mind, above reproach, and I have no choice but to assume that what witnessed is true. She relayed an account of the Unicorn Clan’s scout stables at the northern edge of the Shinomen Mori. Wildfires, perhaps caused by a lightning strike ravaged the dry plains near the region, and could potentially have burned the forest to the ground, depriving the legendary Shinjo Scouts of their steeds. Because of the conflict, the stables were lightly staffed despite the large number of mares and their foals stationed there. The Unicorn fought to resist the blaze, and were bolstered by the arrival of a unit of Khol Regulars, but even then, Anzai reports, it seemed the stables would be lost.

 It was then that the Spider emerged from the forest.

 At first, Anzai feared that a battle was imminent, but to her shock, the Spider combated the fire alongside the Unicorn. We of course know that the Unicorn and Spider were allies prior to your ascension and the edicts against the Spider, but Anzai reports that the Unicorn were completely surprised by their arrival, so it appears that there is no crime on their part. I have very carefully read the account of the Spider’s forces, and while the Moto Black Guard was eradicated from the mortal realm before I was born, I found myself chilled by the similarities between Anzai’s reports and the descriptions I have read in the historical accounts. I am troubled by it even still.

 Once the fire was dealt with Anzai reports that the situation between the two clans degraded quickly. It seems that the leaders of the Spider forces were two former Unicorn, and although I have been unable to verify it, some among the Unicorn in attendance were overheard to whisper that one of them was the brother of the Khan, a man named Chaozhu that many apparently thought dead. I have instructed Anzai not to speak of this, and I know that she can be trusted.

 More disturbing than the account of the former Unicorn is that there was one among the Spider, a man named Atsuro, who seemed to speak to the kami, but not in the manner of a traditional shugenja. Anzai insists that he commanded them rather than invoked them, and that the act of his magic left the area feeling cold and empty. She could not explain it further, and I have not asked her to. I know how such things can upset the young. There were also reports of small creatures from the forest carrying off the bodies of those horses that were killed in the fire. The word “Gakku” was mentioned. I currently have my staff attempting to discover any mention of this in our records, for it is not a creature with which I am familiar.

 I remain your humble servant.

 Miya Shoin, Imperial Herald

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The State of the Empire

An Account of the Divine Empress’ Subjects’ Activities during This Time of War

The Second Week of the Month of the Tiger, year 1171

My most divine Empress,

At your request, I have spent considerable time over the past ten days compiling as many reports as have been received in an attempt to gain some measure of idea what the status of your loyal subjects is at this point in time. I know that reports come in to the Imperial City at a steady pace, but these are from a variety of sources and can often be in conflict with one another over even events of significant importance. Toward this end, to gain as impartial a measure of the Empire’s status as possible, I am depending solely upon the eyewitness accounts of my own Miya heralds. If this in any way displeases you, Divine One, I will of course use whatever means you prefer. I hope that you will agree this is likely our most accurate available information, however.

I suppose it goes without saying that the battles in the northern and southern reaches of the Empire are at present our most pressing concerns. The renewed Army of Fire presses in the north, but slowly. The Dragon and Phoenix are still recovering from the previous war last year, and we can but thank the Heavens that the toll your armies took upon the Army of Fire was so great that now our enemies must move carefully. It would seem they have can no longer spare forces for the insane suicide assaults that hurt the Dragon and Phoenix so badly before. At the insistence of the Dragon officers with whom my herald conferred during his time in the north, I am to report that the Badger and Ox clans have both contributed as much as possible to the effort to stymie the Army of Fire as well. The Ox emerged from the first war remarkably intact, but the Badger have suffered greatly, and are able to contribute very little. Still, what they have, they send, and they have not requested Imperial aid. They are a hardy people, and I think it is this trait that bonds them so with the Dragon Clan during this time of strife.

Notable incidents that have recently taken place in the north are largely related to the continued insertion of the Dark Oracle of Fire’s forces into the Empire. Two larger groups attempted to circumvent the northern clans’ blockade this week. One managed to slip past the sparse guards and reach the Dragon Heart Plain, but Ox scouts detected them and informed the Phoenix. My herald reports that the Champion herself removed the unit known as the Legion of Flame and risked leaving the Phoenix border weakened to intercept and destroy these gaijin before they could reach the Empire’s interior. I praise the Fortunes that Tsukimi-sama and her men were able to return to the Phoenix front before the Dark Oracle could capitalize upon their absence!

A large scouting force of the Army of Fire pushed forward into the central Dragon lands, but were successfully caught in pincer attack by two relatively young Mirumoto officers, Mirumoto Bokusui, and Mirumoto Hojatsu. Reports indicate that the southern half of the Dragon forces, led by Bokusui after his superior fell in battle, was aided by a number of sohei monks not of the Togashi order. In fact, my herald reports that Bokusui allowed the sohei to commandeer the supplies of the fallen gaijin for their own use, which appears to have been a point of contention between the two Dragon officers. Although not of superior rank, it seems that Hojatsu took great issue with Bokusui’s actions in this regard, and my herald feared for a moment that the victory might be spoiled by a duel. Thankfully, that did not occur. I currently have a herald dispatched to the Brotherhood of Shinsei to determine what exactly the purpose of this exchange of supplies was, but I will likely not hear back from Tanari for at least a few weeks.

The southern front continues to be some of the fiercest fighting that I have seen in my lifetime, despite the horrible conflicts I have already witnessed. Some among my younger heralds who have traveled to the southern front have been horribly traumatized by the sight of the war being waged, and while they remain dutiful, I am deeply troubled by how detrimental the war may be to the samurai fighting it, if my heralds could be so affected so quickly. Now that the Destroyers have pushed farther into the Empire, it seems that they are more willing to send splinter units in an attempt to penetrate the interior, rather than the unified assault that they have been waging up until this point. My agents returned with information concerning military units from the Destroyers that have attempted to gain entrance to as yet unoccupied regions. One was halted by a truly fearsome Crab detachment known as Amoro’s Legion, a group that my herald insisted was the only thing in the mortal realm that he fears more than the gajin demons he witnessed among the Destroyers. The other was intercepted by an elite unit of Tsuruchi archers led by Tsuruchi Nobumoto himself. I am told that Nobumoto-sama is advised by a vassal of the Imperial Treasurer, a man named Yoritomo Tatsuhiko. I do not know what interest your distinguished Treasurer has in such a conflict, but fortunately such matters are not for a simple herald such as myself.

I would be greatly comforted if I could but report that while these terrible battles are being waged, the central Empire is at peace. Unfortunately, my Empress, I cannot do so, for the Empire is troubled throughout. The continued spread of the plague that has vexed Rokugan so badly remains unchecked, and is of particular concern in the lands of the Crane and Scorpion clans. Both are taking extreme measures to control the spread within their lands, and it is my hope that, once they have done so, they will secure their borders to ensure the infection does not spread further.

It is possibly because of their actions in containing the disease, or perhaps because of the tragic but absolutely necessary fate of the Horiuchi family, that the Unicorn have been forced to deal with a small scale uprising of the lower castes within their own lands. From what my herald has told me, it seems that the people feared that the appearance of the plague in their village would result in the entire village being ruthlessly sacrificed, and they fought to prevent such a fate. Unfortunately in doing so it seems they brought such a fate to pass, as the Khan had not choice but to sanction the village for treason as well as disease. I fear it will not be the last such tragedy.

There appear to be those within the Empire who are attempting to exploit the current situation to their own advantage, as nauseating as such an act might be. With the Lion forces so heavily deployed in the south, a large force of bandits attempted to raid one of the clan’s storehouses along their western border. Unfortunately for the filth, a single Matsu samurai-ko named Mari, along with a dozen Ikoma guardsmen, proved more than equal to the task of eradicating more than two dozen bandits. What troubles me even more than such predation, however, is the indication Mari-san discovered that there was a much larger force of bandits preparing for a potential raid into the Crab villages near the front line, where they believed they could easily acquire large amounts of military supplies. Mari-san and one of my heralds took a force to intercept these individuals near the Shinomen, but discovered the entire force of bandits slaughtered to a man. The individual that the Lion believe was the bandit lord had a war banner driven through his chest and was left to die slowly on the field of battle. The banner bore the mon of the Spider Clan. I do not know what you wish to come of this information, but Matsu Mari has sworn her patrol to silence upon pain of death, and I have reassigned the herald involved into historical research so that he might not pass on the information, even if inadvertently. I await your command in this matter, my Empress.

This is the account of the Empire in the second year of the reign of Empress Iweko I, the Divine Child of Heaven, noted by her loyal and unworthy subject Miya Shoin, the Imperial Herald of Rokugan.

Battle On All Fronts

By Brian Yoon

Edited by Fred Wan

Part One: The Drums of War Pound On

            The noise rumbled with such intensity it seemed to be felt rather than heard. It echoed through Shiro Kuni, sounding like a thousand feet stamping in unison. Chunks of the broken fortification shattered down into the courtyard with lethal force. Immediately, soldiers broke formation to dodge them, and those who were slow to react were crushed without mercy. Seconds later, the sound began once more, and in the distance another inhuman mound of muscle and bone and cartilage hurtled into the air.

            Hida Otoya turned and gestured frantically to one of his companions. Horiuchi Nobane galloped across the yard and gave the old Crab a quick nod. Both commanders winced and covered their heads as the boulder crashed into the Shiro Kuni wall. They could see the army of Destroyers pressing toward the holes left in the building. “Otoya-san!” Nobane shouted. “We need to stop… whatever that is!”

            Otoya pointed through the hole in the wall of Shiro Kuni to the hills in the distance. Nobane squinted and could barely make out the sight of some gargantuan creature. “My scouts tell me that creature is expelling a part of itself through its back. Our retreat tunnels are prepared, but we can’t use them if that thing crushes them in his random strikes! We can’t survive if the creature continues that barrage!”

            Nobane’s gaze followed Otoya’s finger. Nobane paled when he saw exactly how many Destroyers and demons stood between them. “I have the greatest chance of getting that far alive. The Unicorn will destroy that abomination,” the Unicorn said.

            “We’ll try to hold our line as long as we can,” Otoya said grimly. “The Fortunes be with you, friend.”

            Nobane nodded and gave a shaky smile. “And if they are not, Otoya-san, we shall ride swifter than any trouble could ever follow!” He spurred his steed forward and returned to his troops.

            It was time for Otoya to make good on his word. The old warrior raised his fan and gestured the bulk of the Crab forces forward. He paused and looked to gain a measure of his troops’ morale before charging them into battle. They seemed resigned as they faced impossible numbers, yet Otoya could not spot fear in the eyes of any man standing in line.

            “Defenders!” Otoya called out. “The history of our people and the vast knowledge of the Kuni are at stake. Our allies the Unicorn will charge out onto the battlefield to strike at the heart of the enemy, if only they have a chance to leave this castle. Who shall carve out an opening?”

            Every Crab’s voice roared in unison and Otoya pointed at the closest unit. “The rest of you, defend the broken walls! Open the gates!”

            The lieutenant of the Third Legion whooped in delight and urged his men toward Shiro Kuni’s gates. The gates slowly creaked open and revealed the endless horde that waited to crack open the Rokugani defenses. The Third Legion charged, smashing into the front line of Destroyers with relish. Their reckless assault overwhelmed the foreign demons, who had expected an army cowed by the constant barrage. Unprepared for the unrestrained power of the Third Legion, the Destroyers faltered for a moment. In that time, Nobane and his men galloped out of the fortress.

            The sound of another of the creature’s deadly projectiles reached Otoya’s ears, and he whistled tunelessly.

            “This will be painful,” Otoya murmured to no one.

* * * * *

            “Did we not already fight this war,” Shiba Sotatsu said to himself.

            He stood on the hills above a minor fortification near Shiro Shiba, his Legion of Stone arrayed all around him. They stretched out as wide as they could and stared north at the approaching horde. The burning men were walking closer, and the flames of their bodies seemed to mimic another sun on the ground. He squinted.

            At least, he told himself silently, they were only facing the burning legion. The Phoenix healers had yet to find a cure for the plague that swept across the empire, but their efforts had blunted the worst of it so far. He didn’t know if he could fight the forces of the Dark Oracle and zombies at once without losing his life, his sanity, or both.

            “Sotatsu-san?” his aide asked him, interrupting his reveries. “Will you give the order to charge?”

            He turned to the warrior. Sotatsu was suddenly struck by how young the boy seemed to be. How had they recruited such a youth to the elite numbers of the Legion of Stone, he wondered? Had the stresses of war already forced them to dig into their reserves?

            He suddenly realized he was standing there, staring without answering. A slight flush reached his cheeks. “No,” he answered gruffly. “Send the order to dig in to our positions. We must hold them here long enough for our allies to get into position.”

            The boy bowed. Before he could turn and relay the order, Sotatsu quickly stopped him.

            “Send the order to show them the present,” Sotatsu said.

            Moments later, the standard bearer lifted the large Phoenix banner. It unfurled in the swift wind and brazenly displayed its contents to the entire battlefield. The reaction was slow but explosive. A few minutes passed, then a low guttural howl began to emanate from the opposing force. Sotatsu smiled joylessly. The banner had been created by those who trained in Yobanjin dialects and languages. He had been told the flag was a rather harsh indictment on the Yobanjin race, parentage, and their detestable leader. It had certainly provoked a response.

            The Yobanjin broke any resemblance of formation and charged across the field. They screamed and howled like animals as they sprinted, waving flaming weapons and hands in front of them. The incensed Yobanjin stampeded each other in their eagerness to rip Sotatsu from limb to limb. Sotatsu was glad to see the plan was working, but a stampeding herd held a great deal of force behind it. Could the Phoenix stop them in their tracks, he wondered?

            “Yes,” Sotatsu said. A few of the bushi around looked at him in surprise.

            “YES!” he roared. “We are the Legion of Stone! Their lives will end here!”

            His men cheered. The next instant, the Yobanjin crashed into them and there was no more time for thought. The fighting stretched on, vicious and brutal. Men burnt to their bones and crumbled down the line. Another bushi would quickly take his place. They were too well trained to break, but the Yobanjin horde was slowly grinding them under the weight of their numbers.

            Sotatsu held despair in his heart when he looked up and saw them across the hills. The wind picked up into a howling gust, and the Firestorm Legion crashed into the Yobanjin rear forces.

Part Two: The Trap is Sprung

            A cold wind blew over the village, wafting forth a swirl of dust and what seemed to be an aura of despair to the approaching band. Mirumoto Satobe squinted and raised his hands to protect his eyes from the wind. It looked like any other village but he wasn’t so sure it was the case.

            “Satobe-sama, do you think we’ll find another empty village?” Kitsuki Ketto asked hesitantly.

            Satobe’s face remained smooth and clear of emotion, but the man frowned inwardly. His actions in the War of Dark Fire had earned him another measure of respect among the Mirumoto, not to mention a rise in station. He now had several dozen soldiers under his command to patrol the border between the Mirumoto provinces and the Lion lands. Of late, he found he was more often dealing with the plague problems that had sprung up within the lands than any illegal incursions into the land.

            “I hope not, Ketto, but we must be prepared for whatever we may find,” Satobe responded. His solemn answer elicited determined nods around his band of young bushi, and Satobe felt a spark of pride deep within him. His men, as he had grown to think of them in recent months, had been young warriors barely out of their gempukku ceremony when they had joined his squad. Each man and woman had seen horrors and dangers beyond imagining under Satobe’s command, yet none broke under the pressure. Instead, they had grown into hardened veterans.

            “Where do you think the villagers have fled?” Mirumoto Tannomiru asked. The young man bit his lip and began to chew. It was a bad habit the young man had yet to fix.

            “Three villages, all desolate,” Mirumoto Yukari mused quietly, running her fingers nervously over the silken bindings on the hilt of her katana. “There’s something wrong, of course-”

            “Something that’s likely to get us all killed,” Tannomiru muttered under his breath.

            “-but there’s no sign of any conspiracy or greater power,” Yukari continued without pause. “We should remain optimistic until we hear something that tells us otherwise.”

            “Perhaps you are right, Yukari-san,” Satobe said, “but we must be ready for anything. Fall in.”

            At the finality in his voice, the young bushi immediately cut off their banter. Satobe took lead without comment and the rest fell in behind him. There was nothing that would suggest danger for his men. This town was completely devoid of people, though the village had once held sixty peasants among its borders. There was nothing that hinted at their fate.

            Still, despite the tranquility, something intangible seemed to tug at the corner of his mind. Over the past few weeks, he had learned to trust his instincts. He stopped in the middle of the village square and slowly scanned the area. He could see nothing that would have roused his suspicions. There were small mounds of dirt that looked as if they had not been disturbed for weeks. There was nothing, yet…

            Satobe drew his blades in one smooth motion. The sound was echoed tenfold as his squad followed suit.

            “Stand ready,” Satobe whispered.

            Everything fell into chaos as soon as the words left his lips. Dozens of gray, lifeless hands clawed out of the ground everywhere around the Dragon. The ground shook and erupted as countless bodies rose out of their hiding places. The undead held no expressions on their rotten faces, but Satobe could swear they looked… hungry.

            “A trap!” Tannomiru shrieked.

            “Focus!” Satobe bellowed. He took a moment to turn back to face his young troops. They were all scared. “Trust your schooling and do not lose your center. Nothing can defeat you if you remain true samurai!”

            “You do not stand alone, brave warriors!” a voice shouted from across the village. Satobe and his squadron looked in the direction to see two bare-chested men on the other side of the zombie horde. Judging by the bizarre inscriptions upon their flesh, Satobe hoped that they were ise zumi. Satobe had heard that Togashi Chunoken and Togashi Wirro were in the area. He had no idea why, nor did he care.

            The young warriors took heart and strengthened their resolve, but the moans of their countless enemies would soon drown out the memory of his speech from their minds.

* * * * *

            Shiba Raiden ran as fast as he could and quickly scanned the battlefield. The Destroyers had penetrated the defenses and pressed relentlessly forward. They now fought at the courtyard of the castle itself, but the Crab forces seemed to have no intent to give another inch. He desperately wanted to join the battle, but his orders were more important. Finally, he spotted Otoya and his retinue as they smashed all who dared approach the armory. Raiden nimbly made his way through the chaos to the Crab commander.

            “The forces are overwhelming, Otoya-sama,” he shouted over the din. “My leader Rae-sama is prepared to cut the ritual short and begin evacuation procedures!”

            Otoya swept a forearm over his shoulder, brushing blood and sweat away from his eyes. He stepped back from the front lines, and the Hida Elite Guard pushed forward to cover his absence. “Have you finished transporting the Kuni documents?” he demanded.

            “Only half,” Raiden replied morosely. “The Kuni library is smaller than that of most shugenja families I have seen, but still large enough to prove problematic. The loss of so much knowledge is regrettable but unavoidable! We will lose more than thirty shugenja in one strike if we are caught undefended by the enemy horde!”
            Otoya grimaced. “We will hold them at bay, Raiden. Tell Rae to stand his ground and finish the ritual.”

            Raiden hesitated. “It will likely take another hour of complete concentration to finish transporting all of the scrolls, Otoya-sama. We must retreat.”

            “An hour? You shall have it,” Otoya replied.

            Raiden still did not move from his place. “You can’t stand another fifteen minutes against this horde, let alone an hour. I do not mean to disparage your troops, Otoya-sama, and I have utmost respect for Crab tenacity—”

            “You shall have your hour!” Otoya thundered. He pushed forward past Raiden, nearly bowling him over. “If you have such respect for our skills,” Otoya shouted over his shoulder, “then do me the courtesy of showing me some! We will buy you the time!”

            Otoya charged into the heart of battle without waiting for a response and disappeared into the press of bodies. Raiden winced, turned, and ran toward the inner sanctum of the fortress.

            He wondered if he would ever see the old man alive again.

Part Three: Death in Service is its Own Reward

            Isawa Kokuten, commander of the Firestorm Legion, walked through the remnants of battle, his steps as serene as the ringing tones of the monastery bell. His cloak fluttered in the wind and Sotatsu could swear he could see the kami blinking and dancing on the edges of the cloth. He bowed deeply to the shugenja as soon as he was near. Kokuten only nodded.

            “Your unorthodox plan seems to have worked, Sotatsu,” Kokuten said. “To a degree.”

            “It is one of the principles written in Akodo’s great work, Kokuten-sama,” Sotatsu answered. “I believe the Crab Clan is well versed in the technique. I believe they refer to it as hammer and anvil.”

            “How fitting,” Kokuten mused. “A fire hammer forging on an earthen anvil.”

            “Yes, Kokuten-sama,” Sotatsu said.

            “Of course, I referred to our working together, Sotatsu,” Kokuten continued. He sniffed. “A great portion of the Legion of Flame went south to aid the Crab, so we could hardly have defeated the Befouled Fire Oracle’s men on our own.”

            “The Legion of Stone was available to lend our strength,” Sotatsu said. “We shattered them, Kokuten-sama. It was an unmitigated success.”

            “Perhaps in your eyes,” Kokuten said sharply. “I lost nearly seven members of the Firestorm Legion. Perhaps you are satisfied with your losses, but the Legion of Flame would have died to a man before they would let a priest of the fire kami perish in battle.”

            “Their forces stretched beyond the horizon,” Sotatsu protested. “I myself suffered great casualties. You-”

            Kokuten waved the complaint off without listening. “No matter. The Phoenix has earned another victory. That is all that matters. Of course, we must press onward with our victories.”

            “We must bring an end to this threat,” he continued, his eyes taking a predatory gleam. “The Dark Oracle of Fire must die.”

* * * * *

            Satobe’s fingers unclenched of their own accord and his katana dropped to the ground with a clatter. A large trail of blood flowed down his arm, trickled down his fingers and slowly dripped to the ground. Satobe coughed and squatted down to his haunches. The mystery of the missing villagers seemed to have been solved, he mused, and his exhausted thoughts seemed to crawl by his consciousness. A shadow crossed his vision, and Satobe looked up. Tannomiru’s arm hung crookedly below his armor and he was missing his helm.

            Tannomiru bowed deeply. “The… creatures have been contained, Satobe-sama,” he said, his voice choked with pain.

            Satobe surveyed the aftermaths of the battle. “At what cost?” he murmured. Fourteen of the sixteen warriors in his unit lay dead around him, with dozens of mutilated corpses around them. The survivors Tannomiru and Yukai were barely in better shape; their eyes were glassy with pain and shock at the sheer horror of the day’s events. Wirro leaned over with his hands on his knees and breathed deeply, bleeding the exertion of the day out from him. His former frenzy of energy seemed to have disappeared. Chunoken clutched his arm and stood motionless, his head cocked in a perpetual gesture of puzzlement.

            Satobe rose to his feet and brushed the dust off his armor with his left hand. “Thank you for your assistance, Wirro-san, Chunoken-san,” he called out. “We would have been overwhelmed without your presence.”

            Wirro turned to Satobe and slowly smiled. Chunoken did not seem to move or respond in any way. Satobe thought he could see the man shiver, ever so slightly.

            “Perhaps it has been of use to you, Satobe-san, but I must wonder. I cannot seem to leave my life of blood and death behind. Is my soul unable to find tranquility, even among these pristine peaks? Am I doomed to live a life of war and battle for the rest of my lives, however often the kharmic wheel turns?”

            Satobe blinked and could not come to any answer. Wirro turned to the other ise zumi. “Chunoken tells me that I worry too much. He tells me Fire burns within my soul and I must find ways for me to release that energy back in to the world. Some days, he tells me that I will give to those around me until-”

            Wirro’s speech was cut off by the sound of Tannomiru’s scream. The younger samurai was on his knees, writhing in pain, as Chunoken pulled on his shattered arm. Desperately, Tannomiru cried out as he finally pulled free from the ise zumi’s grasp, shock and fatigue combining to leave him helpless on the ground. Chunoken turned to face Satobe and opened his eyes. Satobe could see that Chunoken shared the same blank look he had seen in the plague zombies. Absently, he realized that there was little difference from calm ise zumi’s normal face.

            “Chunoken-san,” Satobe said. His fingers clenched the hilt of his wakizashi, and yet he hesitated.

            “No,” Wirro said quietly. He rose to his feet and spat blood out of his mouth. His hands balled into fists, and he stood lightly on the balls of his feet. “That is no longer Togashi Chunoken.”

            It snarled. Its cheeks stretched and split as its jaw extended beyond human limits. The creature’s ruined mouth stretched in a gesture that resembled a grotesque smile. Satobe drew his wakizashi with his left hand and limped forward, holding the blade in front of him in a defensive stance. The fatigue in his mind burned away as he prepared to finish the job in front of him.

            The warrior and the monk stood side to side as Chunoken’s plague-ridden corpse lumbered forward. Its gaze turned from one man to the next. It could find no pity in their eyes.

* * * * *

            Nobane leaned in close to Lobai and hugged his neck. Faster, Nobane urged, and relayed the thought to his horse with familiar caresses on his neck. His faithful steed seemed to answer by increasing his already breakneck speed. It seemed almost miraculous that his troops kept up with his pace. The small Unicorn band of veteran warriors sped across the edges of the battlefield, skirting large Destroyer troops that attempted to catch up to Nobane’s men with no success. The hectic gallop seemed to take forever, but soon the Unicorn evaded their followers and began to approach their target monstrosity at a slower pace. Nobane knew that time was of the essence, but he could ask no more of his noble horse without killing him and leaving himself stranded in enemy territory.

            Nobane could see the creature in detail as they approached. It was even more disgusting at close range. The creature squatted on massive hind legs, its forelimbs small and atrophied. The creature constantly snarled, its drool dripping out in front of it in a wide stream of thick, viscous fluid.

            Suddenly, the creature lifted from its reclined position and leaned close to the ground. With one awkward stance, the monster swiped his claws in the drool and flung it into the air. Its skeletal back opened up and launched forth another grotesque ball of flesh and bone. The ball, now covered in the drool, passed over the group and flew toward the castle. As it spun through the air, it began to catch on fire.

            Nobane turned to his closest companion with wide eyes. “Kota-”

            Iuchi Kota nodded. “I see it,” he said abruptly. “I can ask the kami to light that fluid, but I need to get closer. And I need time – there are few kami in the lands of the Kuni.”

            Nobane gestured to the rest of his men and spurred his horse forward. Lobai immediately answered with another burst of speed. “We shall give you the time!” he shouted back, raised his spear, and shouted a battle cry at the top of his lungs.

            The creature turned its head to its side, as if perplexed by the Unicorn charge. However, it certainly seemed to understand danger. It flung its forelimb toward the approaching cavalry, and its claws seemed to break off toward them at a dangerous speed. The Unicorn scattered to avoid the projectiles, then wheeled back toward the creature. Nobane screamed insults at the top of his lungs, though he certainly knew the creature could not understand. All that mattered was that the monster would not spot the danger before it was too late.

            They continued to dart in and out of the demon’s reach, provoking its attacks only to dodge back to safety. It would have almost be considered sport, yet Nobane’s feelings were muted by the many riders dying to its surprise assaults. Sweat glistened on his forehead as time stretched on and on. The creature swung out with its long tail, sweeping both man and rider under its powerful strike. Two Unicorn died in an instant, before they could even recognize they had failed.

            Green flames erupted at the creature’s feet. The flames, infused with the power of jade caught on the inflammatory fluid and erupted into an inferno. The monster screamed in rage, then exploded in flames. Nobane ducked, and when he looked up it was gone.

            Nobane breathed a sigh of relief, smiled, and turned back to face his shugenja. The sigh caught in his throat and the smile froze.

            The walls were crushed in. The central spire was burning. An unholy light glowed from the courtyard, and the sound of human wails reached his ears.

            Shiro Kuni was dying.

            They were too late.

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Three

By Lucas Twyman

Edited by Fred Wan

The North

            The priest taught us that death is not a thing to be feared.

            I am afraid to die.

            Every year, at harvest time, he would visit our village and bless the fields. All things live and all things have a spirit, he taught us. The stones themselves are alive, he would tell us, then convince us of his words. He would whisper to them, and they would move, of their own will. The ground would shift and crumble, and fresh soil would rise from deep within the earth and crawling worms and insects would thrust their heads for the first time to the sky. The elder of the village told us this is how it always was; the same ritual happened in his childhood, and in his grandfather’s childhood.

            The priest would then follow us to the shrine at the bottom of the foothill, where the ashes of our village’s ancestors were interred. He would thank the spirits of our fathers and grandfathers, and their fathers and grandfathers, for watching over our small village, for providing us with food and strength, despite the harsh conditions of our mountain home. Then he would tell us not to fear death, for we would join our ancestors in watching over us, until it was time for us to be born anew.

            He would tell us that our lives would be judged by the Heavens, and we would be born again one day. We should not fear death, we should live to die nobly, for doing so made the Heavens happy. He said that if we lived for our duties and died for our Empire, that we would be raised from our station in the next life. We would be ashigaru, or monks, after many noble deaths, even samurai. Perhaps even priests.

            We should not encourage death, he said, but we should not fear welcoming it.

            I’m sorry, Lord Priest. I am so scared.

            I don’t want to die.

            Our village was small and remote, but we were not immune to the world’s changes. During my great-grandfather’s time, the demons came, and he hid his wife and my grandfather in a cave until the magistrates arrived and declared the Empire to be safe and new, with a new Emperor chosen by the Mandate of Heaven. Heaven was soon torn open, and my great-grandfather lost his name. In the shrine at the base of the foothill, his urn remains unmarked, for we never remembered it. During my grandfather’s day, it was said that the honored ancestors themselves came back to visit – not ours, whom the priest said are reborn soon after they die, but the ancestors of the samurai lords. A spirit visited our village, glowing with the light of Heaven. It walked painfully, like a dying animal. It was separated from its army and its leg was broken. It had been attacked by one of the demons we call “mountain goblins,” which were common in the time of my grandfather but are now rarely seen. It lay in my grandfather’s home, feverish and speaking with an ancient accent of the distant past. When the tax-collector came and told us that the children of our masters had been kidnapped by an agent of the spirits, my grandfather himself slit the spirit’s throat.

            My father told me the story, and said that the traitorous ancestor cried out a wordless gurgle as his blood fell into the dirt.

            Then, during my youth, the Children of Heaven warred to gain Heaven’s Mandate. My older brother left to join their armies, and as the eldest of my village’s defenders, I was trained with the spear to defend the village. A new Emperor was crowned, but things did not change. Every year, a priest would come to the village and bless the crops, and tell us not to fear death –  we should only fear failure in the Eyes of the Heavens. It made me fear the Heavens themselves.

            I thought that I feared the Heavens as much as I feared Jigoku.

            I was wrong.

            The Emperor died, and our life did not change. I visited Old Oak Village, three days from my own, and met the young woman chosen to be my wife. She was strong, and did not complain about having to till the fields at my side, unlike the wife of Ichi, my brother, whom he met in a great city during his time in the army. A new Empress was chosen by the Heavens. The tax collector told us of her strength and wisdom. He said no mortal could look at her, or the radiant light of her beauty would blind them as if they looked into the sun. We felt safe.

            Then the burning men came. The tax collector arrived and moved our families south. Since I was trained in the spear, he put me into the armies of our lord. I saw the burning men only once – at the battle of Morning Glory Castle – but the smell of scalded flesh remained in my nostrils for days. If death is what I saw in the faces of the men who fell that day, I don’t want to die.

            When the war ended, it was supposed to be the beginning of a new age of peace. The Empire had passed the test. We would now be rewarded for bowing before the Will of Heaven and accepting their chosen one as our Divine Leader. But it was not to be – the burning men came again. I was working the fields when they struck. I saw the smoke and ran, but by the time I returned, my village burned, and the invaders had left. I do not believe that if I faced them, I would have survived. I would have at least died with my family.

            I am forced to wonder: was that why I did not return in time?

            I do not want to die.

            But I do not want to hurt any longer.

            I was pressed into the forces of my lord, sent to the south, near the lands of the Lion. I have never seen fields so fertile: plants grow here without the aid of priests, and the here farmers do not fear death. They tell me of the realms of the dead and stories of their ancestors. They have been raised with them. The monks and priests have visited them often, and they believe. They know where they will go when they die.

            I am not so certain I believe.

            We move ever south, and we are told that we must face the armies of the invaders: beasts that walk like men, creatures of nightmare. The men from these villages hope to die to save their families, hope to die so that they may be one day reborn as samurai. I fear that death is the end. I fear that death is not the worst thing that may happen to us.

            Many have become sick. We marched past a village, quarantined by the local lords. Some of our men have developed symptoms: the cough, the black mucus, red eyes. In the mountains, we know what herbs to pick for cough, what flowers can be made into a compress to ease breathing. None of these remedies have helped.

            Last night, I saw a man die, and rise again, biting and tearing at the herbalist examining him only moments before.

            They say we should die for the Empire.

            At dawn we fight. At dawn, I might die.

            I’m afraid to die.

            I am so very, very afraid.

* * * * *

The Center

            Five days.

            For five days, Hitofu had followed the man and the boy through the coastal provinces of the Crane. He had watched his targets closely: both walked with the practiced grace of a dancer, never expending more energy than required. The man had a hungry edge to him, but, unlike Hitofu, he was no wolf, used to fighting for his meals. Despite his plain clothing, the man demanded attention. He and the boy slept in cheap inns and ate at small noodle-houses, but he spoke with clearly and with authority, as if he expected his words to be obeyed without exception. Hitofu had met men like him before – usually unwise samurai of great clans stripped of their titles or on musha shugy?, expecting to be treated as if they were members of their traditional station rather than their present one. In Hitofu’s experience, it meant the new ronin was soft, no matter how extensive their training.

            The contract said otherwise. One hundred koku, the contract said, one hundred koku and a position in the Emerald Magistrates. The price was an extravagant one for a criminal’s head, but the position offered was incredible – if Hitofu succeeded, he would never have to fight for a meal again. With his skill, Hitofu could obtain any number of local magistrate positions, but he would likely be tied down to a dreary town on the edge of the Empire. As an Emerald Magistrate, Hitofu could wander to his heart’s content. Answering only to the land’s highest authority, he would never be harassed by samurai on the road, never forced to bribe an official to use the Empress’s road.

            But to be worth such a prize, the man would have to be dangerous indeed.

            The pair did not look so troublesome – the man was missing an eye, which likely meant he had lost at least one battle in the past, and the boy looked weedy and thin. Both had surprisingly pale features for men on the road. Still, it was no reason to treat them lightly, Hitofu mused as he sat on the cliffside. He had tracked them to Three Fish Village, and he could follow them as long as he needed, until he had their measure. He smiled as he watched the the boy skip gracefully from stone to stone near the cliffside, then turned his gaze back to the man, who…

            …who was looking right at him.

            “You.”

            Hitofu blinked and slowly rose to his feet.

            The man threw his straw coat to the ground, stretched his neck, and pointed to the ronin. “You, wave-man. You have followed us for at least the last seventy li. Will you not make your move?”

            Hitofu blinked. “I… I am sorry, my friend. I do not know what you are –”
            “Do not try to deceive me, ronin,” the man said coldly, “I do not take well to deception.”

            Hitofu nodded. He rather liked this man’s approach – far too often, samurai of the clans tried to do whatever they could to avoid saying what they meant. “I am here to collect a bounty, my friend. I regret to tell you that you are my target.”

            The man nodded, slowly. “I expected as much. But I would ask that you refrain from considering me your friend.”

            “If you wish,” Hitofu replied, rolling his shoulders back. “If we must dispense of all pretense, then we will. Now, should we get to it?”

            The man inclined his head slightly, then nodded again.

            “Blade of Nanashi’s Eyes,” Hitofu said, saluting his opponent before falling back into his stance, “Sensei Kyome.”

            The man acknowledged Hitofu’s salute and fell back into a tight stance. He placed his right hand on his obi and opened his left, as if making an offering to the ronin. “Sensei Kaiten.”

            Hitofu’s eyes grew wide. There was no weakness in this man’s stance. It had to be him! Hitofu fought desperately to keep the growing panic from affecting him. He glanced from his opponent to the boy, who was watching his father dispassionately.

            “Lord Noritoshi,” Hitofu said, as bluntly as he could manage, “Your stance is impeccable.”

            Noritoshi did not deign to give the ronin a response.

            Hitofu stared into the steel blue of the Crane’s eye. He believed he would die this day, but the opportunity it would give him – he would take the chance. Both men stood silent and still, waiting for their adversary to move.

            There was movement on the horizon. Hitofu blinked – it was there, a cloud of dust, moving slowly towards the small coastal village. The Crane tensed for a second, as if readying a strike, then noticed that his opponent was not readying his move, but was responding to something over his shoulder.

            “Father,” the boy whispered, looking past the village as well, “something is out there.”

            Hitofu relaxed, and the Crane tilted his body, allowing himself to look back with his one good eye. “Not riders. Men?”

            “They are walking slowly, father. There are many, and they are not in formation.”

            “Beasts,” Hitofu said, and his blood ran cold. “Zombies. I have heard rumors… how many live in that village?”

            Noritoshi returned his attention to the ronin, falling back into his iai stance.

            “Do you not see them?” Hitofu cried. “Do you not care?”

            “They are not my concern,” the Crane replied. “The villagers belong to the Empress, yes, and those beasts are a threat to her property, but the Daidoji will arrive soon enough to protect the village. I have a higher calling.”

            Hitofu slowly raised his hand from his daisho. “What could be a greater calling for a clan samurai than defending his family and his Empire?”

            The Crane stood still and unmoving. “Do not presume to judge me, wave-man. My son and I – we are my family, and by living through this day I can defend the Empire from a greater threat.” His eyes were cold. “What is the greater threat to the Empress – the viper in her field, or the one coiled around her feet?”

            Hitofu’s thoughts reeled. “You… you and the Emerald Champion.” He cupped his hand over his eyes and looked from the Kakita to the village behind them. “Are you mad, Crane? I had my doubts when I realized who my target truly is, but what you say is treason. He is justified in hunting you.”

            “My family and I will oppose him and his kind, even if it costs us all we have. The Empire is worth that much.”

            “But… they say the Crab fight daily with demons, and that the northern mountains again burn. Would you truly thrust your family into a conflict knowing that the Empire may need your strength to survive?”

            “I should expect as much from you, ronin. You and your kind fight to gather scraps, to survive to your next meal. That is why, no matter what skill you may have, you will never be a true samurai. The Kakita never fight merely to survive, ronin.” Noritoshi glanced back at his son. “We fight to preserve the culture of the Empire itself. Surviving without our culture, our laws, our tradition – that is no survival at all. An Empire that defeats its foes but has a creature like Jimen as its heart is no longer Rokugan.”

            “You can’t think you’ll succeed – even if you kill me, I am not the only one hunting you. And if we fail, how do you know Jimen won’t send him all he can after you? The magistrates, the Shosuro – forces that should be defending the Empire in time of war.”

            “I would expect him to,” Noritoshi replied, “as he is unfit for his position.”

            Hitofu blinked. “But…”

            Noritoshi tightened his grip on his obi. “Do you not wish for this duel, ronin?”

            Hitofu clenched his fists. “I…” He looked to the village again, at the forces approaching it. “..  No. Not today.”

            Noritoshi relaxed his stance and looked at his son. The boy nodded at his father, who looked back at Hitofu. “I will pay you ten koku if you defend my people, ronin. Hold those creatures off until reinforcements arrive, and return to this spot. You will find payment in the basket my son carries.”

             Hitofu nodded. “This will not be the last you see of me, Lord Noritoshi.”

            Noritoshi opened his arm, and his son ran to his side. A slight smile crossed his face. “A pity, that.”

            The two Crane walked past the ronin, following the coast to the south. Hitofu watched them for a moment, then shook his head, then began running towards Three Fish Village. He knew that today he had seen his own death – but if it came at the hands of the creatures advancing on Three Fish Village or the man who had employed him to defend it, he did not know.

* * * * *

The South

It is almost dusk, and my unit disengages from the rest of the forces marching south. It is a duty we do gladly; it is part of tradition that some of our units rest separately from the main force. It means that any ambushes in the night will attack the outside units first, so the central force will have time to mobilize, but that is only the practical reason. The true reason is simple: as the sky goes red, we know that the sun will never set on the united armies of the Lion.

            As usual, we receive our orders from an ashigaru courier. It is the same man who has dealt with us these past few weeks, and if he survives, he will likely be our liaison for the entire campaign. He is young and eager, but he never looks our nikutai in the eye – deftly maintaining propriety. We are technically above his station, but our shame makes us below his place on the order. It is not a noble duty he bears. I pray to the ancestors that he outlives us, but I am certain they do not listen.

            Despite his position, the nikutai still receives maps of the battle, planned from our advance scouts. I pay them little notice – I can make neither heads nor tails of the complexities of our new war. I know only that I have waited a long time for this chance. I am among the oldest members of our unit, both generally – through the seasons I have seen — and specifically — through seniority.

            “The enemy continues pulling north, Senichi,” the nikutai says. I am the only one whom he addresses by the name of a dead man – perhaps because I am the only one who has been with the unit longer than he. Perhaps it is to rankle me. My rage has won more than one battle under his command – but even that might be what angers him. He taps the map, plays with it, spread out in the dirt like a tattered bird. “Do they plan to escape to the mountains, do you think?”

            I grunt and shake my head. “I know not, commander. The mountains will not save them from our talons.”

            The nikutai smirks and rubs his chin. “Courage in the face of unfathomable horror. Were you leading our forces, Senichi, the Empire would not have any enemies left to trouble us.”

            A fire burns in my chest. I can hear my wife crying. “Were I leading our forces, commander, I would be dead by now, and my family would finally be free of my shame.”

            “Is that what you want, Senichi? Your family to be free of the shame you represent?” The nikutai scowls as he asks me the same question he asks before every battle. “Or do you want to finally be free of your own shame?”

            I cannot help myself – I can feel my lip curling into a sneer. “Are they not one and the same, commander?”

            “I suppose it is close enough not to matter,” the nikutai says, sternly. “You will be third watch.”

            I bow to the nikutai – protocol must be obeyed, even among those like we – and search for a place to rest. I can feel the eyes of the other men in the unit follow me. They fear me, perhaps rightfully. I am no Setai, but I am a Deathseeker who has survived more than one battle. All the softness in me is gone.

            If they had seen the man who once bore my name, they may have feared me, but only in the manner that one fears a bonfire: stay away until it burns out, or it may catch you with its hunger. Certainly, the man who bore my name was strong once, but he was not a physically formidable man near the end. The man who once stood at the gates of Toshi Ranbo as Lord Nimuro claimed his prize died years before his second death, drowned by the drink and his own fears. And it was his wife and child that paid that price.

            After I joined our unit of walking dead, the weakness of my old form was sloughed away, replaced by the harsh muscles and sinew born by the endless march towards war. Now, I know that I will die soon. What I must constantly wonder is if it will be enough.

            My sleep is difficult, as always. My wife’s spirit speaks to me in the night, screaming of the monster that took our son from us, not fully understanding that the monster is me. I tremble, like I trembled when I died the second time – without the drink, I trembled for days.

            But tonight is different. A rider appears, and my wife grows silent at his approach. He leads me away from my wife. He walks beside his steed, a noble creature that watches me silently.

            He tells me he once lived as I do. I tell him that I am already dead.

            “If only it was that easy,” he says, and he smiles.

            The mists seem endless, but I feel as if the horse knows the way. It is guiding us, not the horseman guiding her. I ask him where we are going.

            “That’s the question, isn’t it?” he replies. “I don’t think we can know until we get there.”

            I ask him where we are.

            “You’re the Lion,” he replies. “You’re the one who knows about what happens after we die.”

            I tell him I already am dead.

            “You’re lively for a dead man. Your heart may feel dead, Lion, but your body is waiting to catch up.”

            I ask him why he is here, and he replies that it is his job to be here.

            I ask him why I am here.

            “Usually,” he says, a strange smile still playing on his lips, “It means that they’re not done with you yet.”

            “What do you mean? Who are you talking about?”

            “What I mean,” he replies, “is that your story isn’t quite over yet.” He shrugs. “Just because you are forgotten, it doesn’t mean you’re gone. You may still have more to do.”

            The night is silent and still. I look to the guard posted on the hill.

            He is not there.

            I cry out. A demon rises out of the darkness, a creature twice the height of a man, with the head of a strange, long-nosed beast.

            I grab my blade and charge. As I run, I pray.

            I pray I can die a third time.

            I pray that this death is a good one.

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Scenes from the Empire

By Rusty Priske, Nancy Sauer, & Shawn Carman

Edited by Fred Wan

Yoritomo Tadame rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he looked upon the Temple of Kaze-no-Kami. Supplicants made a rag-tag line out of the front entrance of the temple. There were over a dozen people waiting outside, with more within.

Kimogen answered the question that Tadame had not yet spoken. “Since Shumai became the head of the temple, it has grown in prestige and notoriety. He regularly gets more prospective monks than he can accommodate.”

Tadame, used to his mentor’s ability to read what he would say before he said it, replied, “but this many? How does he have time to service the temple?”

Kimogen smiled. “It is not normally this many, but I think word has gotten out that the temple has visitors just now. Many would relish the opportunity to meet two former Mantis champions at one time.” Kimogen noted the surprise on Tadame’s face and grinned. “Oh, didn‘t I tell you that Tanari would be here?”

Tadame’s smile started to match Kimogen’s. “No, you did not.”

“It must have slipped my mind. Now, I think you should wait out here for the moment. They are obviously quite busy inside and I will see if we can schedule some time with Tanari and Shumai.”

“As you wish, brother. I will find something to occupy my time.”

“You should-should not feel so down, friend-friend.” Tadame saw something that would cause most to be taken aback, but the site of a Nezumi, clad in the robes of a monk, did not have that effect on him. Tadame had never met K’mee, but she was well known amongst the orders. Once he knew that Tanari was here, it was no longer surprising for her to be present as well.

She was speaking in a soothing voice to a non-descript samurai who looked quite dejected. “Why should-should you be unhappy, young Funaba?”

“I was rejected, Brother K’mee. I pledged my life to the temple and was told that my services were not required. I didn’t even know that could happen.”

K’mee nodded gently. “Yes-yes. Sometimes there are more people who wish to serve a temple than there are jobs or is room. The Temple of Kaze-no-Kami is quite popular and many wish-wish to serve here.” She gestured to the people waiting outside, including Tadame, “as you can see. Brother Shumai must make-make decisions about who would best-best serve his temple.”

Funaba looked at her, with pain in his eyes. “Yes, and I was judged not as worthy as these others.” He looked at Tadame, who was keeping a respectful distance, but clearly listening. “What can I expect? I am simply a ronin. I can never expect to be chosen over a great Mantis samurai here in their lands.”

Tadame stepped forward. “I am not here as an applicant, friend. My duties are already spoken for.”

Funaba bowed deeply to the Mantis samurai, who returned his bow. “My apologies, Yoritomo-sama. I meant no disrespect.”

“None taken, Funaba, was it?” At the ronin’s nod, Tadame continued. “Being mistaken for one who wishes to serve Kaze-no-Kami is not something I would ever think of as disrespect.”

“What of one who wished to serve and was rejected?”

K’mee waved her hand. “I think-think you misunderstand, Funaba-san. You have not been rejected; you have been given a great-great gift.” Funaba looked puzzled and the little Nezumi continued. “There are many who try to find-find their place and never do. They live out their days following whatever path is laid-laid before them. You were about to make a big-big mistake and follow the wrong path. Shumai saved you from this mistake.”

Funaba looked at K’mee suspiciously and then over to Tadame, then back to K’mee. “I do not understand.”

“You carry a sword-sword.”

Funaba nodded. “I am still a samurai, even if only a ronin.”

“Why did you want-want to set it aside?”

“I have served, the best I knew how.” Funaba tapped his saya. “I have killed when I needed to kill, usually bandits. The local villages would ensure that I had food and lodging when I did that. Yet I never felt like I was accomplishing anything. Life should be more than wandering from village to village, with no purpose to your life. I have always thought my actions should mean more.”

K’mee tipped her head. “And what did-did your actions mean to those villagers? Did they feed you out of fear? Did they think you were worse-worse than the bandits, or that you were better?”

Funaba shrugged slightly. “Better. It was out of gratitude, I suppose.”

“To them you were-were a hero. What greater calling could-could there be?”

Tadame saw a realization pass across Funaba’s features and a light ignite behind his eyes. Before the conversation could continue, however, Kimogen emerged from the temple.

“Come, Tadame-san. Tanari has some time for us while Shumai is busy with the applicants.”

Tadame indicated he would follow and then turned back to Funaba and K’mee. “You should listen to this monk, samurai-san. She is very wise. Now, I must go inside, but it would please me a great deal if we could speak further. Will you stay in the area until I return?”

Funaba’s face showed some surprise as he bowed and said, “I would be honored, Yoritomo-sama.”

Tadame returned the bow and then bowed to K’mee before turning and following Kimogen.

Yoritomo Tadame followed Kimogen into a private chamber away from the main temple area. Where Tadame expected a waiting chamber, it seemed instead to be a private room belonging to Shumai. It was clearly decorated by a former Mantis samurai, as green was a dominant color, and there were mementoes of his previous life displayed throughout.

Inside, waiting for their arrival, was Tanari, once known as Tsuruchi, and the current head of the Brotherhood of Shinsei. Tadame bowed deeply.

“Please, Yoritomo-san, we are all brothers here. Have a seat, both of you. Shumai has been kind enough to provide some refreshments. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

Kimogen sat first, and Tadame followed. Kimogen said, “We thank you for your hospitality, Brother Tanari. You are very gracious.”

Tanari waved away the thanks. “It is Shumai. I am merely visiting as well, though I must admit feeling comfortable here. This was once my private chamber before I left the temple for my current duties.”

Kimogen raised his cup. “Duties that serve all of Rokugan, Brother Tanari. We are all better for your presence.”

Tanari nodded his head to the compliment then said, “So, what brings you to this temple, Brother Kimogen? Were you planning on changing orders?”

Kimogen smiled at Tanari’s jest. “As worthy as the temple is, I am happy with the Order of Heroes, Brother Tanari. No, I came because I had heard you were here and I thought it would serve Tadame well to meet two people he would surely recognize as heroes.”

“I thank you for the compliment and I look forward to the opportunity to sit down for a long discussion, Tadame-san.”

Tadame bowed his head. “The great honor would be mine.”

Kimogen nodded in the direction of the main temple area. “I hope that Shumai will also be so disposed after his busy day.”

Tanari smiled. “Sometimes I miss my duties here. Sometime I do not.”

Kimogen nodded. “So what brings you here, Brother Tanari? That is, if it is not a private matter. Just visiting your former temple?”

“Somewhat, but also I wanted to bring K’mee. She has come a very long way in the time she has been with me. She has an amazing grasp on the world around her and how to find a person’s true calling in life. I feel I have taught her as much as a can and in many ways she has surpassed me. I came here looking for a place for her to continue her education, but now that I am here, I do not know if this is the right place for her.”

Tadame looked back to the door they came through and thought of the conversation outside. He turned back to Tanari. “Excuse me, Brother Tanari, but I know of an order where K’mee would be of great service…”

* * * * *

The headman’s house at Kibi Mura didn’t have so much as a single wall scroll and the draft was fierce, but it was the best house in the village.  This didn’t stop Kakita Hideshi from thinking that it was entirely loathsome.   He scanned the room once more, wincing at the poor state of the tatami mats.  Asahina Beniha deserved far better, but there was nothing to be done for it.  The countryside was apparently rife with plague victims and Scorpion intruders, so any travel had to be done as swiftly as possible.  Beniha’s entourage had traveled as long as the daylight had lasted, and then sought shelter in the first village they came to.

         “Hideshi-kun,” Beniha said, “what is that?”  She pointed to a picture in the novel she was reading. 

         He bent down to study it, squinting slightly in the room’s poor lighting.  “It is a crossbow,” he said.

         “A crossbow?” Beniha said.

         “It is a rather obscure weapon,” Hideshi said.  “I have only seen it carried by a puppet in a performance of The Peach-Pit Boy.”

         “Oh, I love that story.  Have you ever seen the version done by the Chrysanthemum  Fan troupe?  It is my favorite; we should go see it the next time they are in Toshi Ranbo.”  Beniha lifted her hand to turn the page, and when she laid it down the edge of her sleeve just slightly overlapped the edge of Hideshi’s sleeve.

         “I would like that very much,” Hideshi said.  His eyes traveled from their sleeves up to Beniha’s face; she was gazing down at the book with a slight smile on her lips.  “Do you wish to retire soon, Beniha-chan?  We will need to leave as early as possible in the morning.”

         She looked over at him, her smile slightly wider.  “Indeed, that would be wise.  I–” she paused a moment, listening to something Hideshi couldn’t hear, and then the clang of a badly-made gong filled the night.

         “Fire!” Hideshi exclaimed.  He leaped to his feet and rushed towards the door, his swords already in his hands.  When he reached the outside he glanced around the area.  The small sake house across the road had smoke drifting out of it and there were flames lapping at one of the shuttered windows.  Villagers carrying buckets and poles were rushing towards it, and the headman was already organizing them.  Hideshi relaxed slightly.  Fire was always dangerous, but there was no wind to carry the flames from one building to another and the villagers seemed to know their business.  It was inconvenient, though–the other guards were bedding down there, and now they would have to find other arrangements. 

         “Kakita-san, something is wrong.”  Hideshi looked over at the speaker.  Daidoji Ryugo was standing his post at the door of the headman’s house, and he pointed towards the burning building with his sword.  “None of the others have come out,” he continued.

         “You are certain?”  Hideshi said.  “They could have gone out another direction.”

         “They would have made their way over here by now,” Ryugo said.  “And there is something else odd–there was a great deal of noise before the fire broke out, but it all died down.  And there has been no noise at all since the fire-gong has sounded.”

         Beniha joined them, one of her heavy kimono pulled on for warmth.  “Hideshi-san,” she said, “look.”  She pointed towards the doorway of the sake house, where some figures could be seen moving through the smoke.   Hideshi’s first reaction was relief; finally the others were here.  Then he frowned, noting the oddness of their motions. 

         “Hayaku’s voice,” Ryugo swore.  “They are undead!”

         The villagers did not notice at first.  Then the figures were upon them, and the screaming began.  Most of the villagers fled, but a few of the more courageous ones tried to rescue their neighbors by beating on the zombies with their firefighting tools.   Ryugo made a hissing noise and started towards the fight.

         “Stop!  We must get Beniha-sama out of here!” Hideshi said.

         “There’s no getting on a horse in this mess,” Ryugo yelled back.  He cut down a zombie who was disemboweling the village headman with its bare hands.

         Hideshi swore to himself, but Ryogo had a point.  The Kakita drew his blade and ran to join the guard.  The next few minutes were a nightmare of flame, darkness, and blood.  Hideshi prided himself on his skills as a warrior, but the dead could not feel pain and were not slowed by blood-loss.  As he landed a blow that put down one of the dead guards for the second time he began to feel the first tendrils of panic. 

         “Kakita!” Ryugo shouted in anguish, and Hideshi spun around towards him.  Somehow the body of the village headman had locked its arms around Ryugo’s waist, and the pinned guard was now being overwhelmed by a crowd of undead.  Hideshi took one step towards him and then stopped as something clenched around his ankle.  Operating on slightly terrified instinct, Hideshi stomped hard on the thing holding him.  There was the sound of cracking bones and then he staggered free.

          Just as suddenly he was caught again, but this was different: the force seized his whole body and it came with the sound of the roaring wind.  Hideshi found himself dropped on the ground near the headman’s house, and he watched in amazement as the bodies of the dead–Ryugo included– were hurled into the flames that engulfed the sake house.  He realized he could hear the sound of chanting now, and he looked up to see Beniha standing next to him.   She had her hands folded in an attitude of prayer, and after a moment her chant shifted in tone to become something he recognized: the prayers said over a funeral pyre. 

         Hideshi scrambled to his feet and pointed at a group of villagers who were cowering nearby.  “You,” he commanded, “saddle two of our horses and bring them here.”

         “But samurai-sama,” one of them said, “who will protect us if you go?  There might be more of them.” 

         Hideshi ran his sword through the man’s throat, then kicked him off the blade.  He pointed the dripping blade at the others.  “Horses!” he said.  They scrambled off to obey, not even bothering to stop and bow.  Hideshi stopped and took a deep breath, willing strength into his body.  Beniha was not safe yet, and he could not relax until she was. 

         “That is it,” Beniha said behind him.  “The dead are now all at rest.”

         Hideshi turned back to her, uncomfortably aware that she had saved his life.  “Thank you,” he said.

         Beniha made a dismissive motion.  “I am not the holiest priestess my family ever produced, but I know what my duties are.  The undead are an abomination to the Celestial Order.”  She looked around.  “What do we do now?”

         “We get on our horses and leave as quickly as possible,” Hideshi said.

         Beniha looked at him with an expression of confusion on her face.  “But what of the village?  What if there are there more undead lurking about?”

         “My duty is to protect you, not them,” Hideshi said, “and you are worth a hundred of these stinking villages.”  He gestured to the horses being led to them by two villagers.  “Mount up.”

         “It is not a question of my worth,” Beniha said. “I–”

         “My lady,” Hideshi said quietly, “get on that horse.”  His eyes locked on hers for a moment, and some of the color drained out of her face.  “Now,” he said. 

         Beniha drew a shaking breath and then walked slowly to one of the horses.  Hideshi helped her up and then swung onto the other.  “We will run them as long as we can, to put distance behind us,” he said.  She shrugged in reply, keeping her face away from him.  Hideshi gritted his teeth as anger surged up.  He was right, and she would admit it someday.  For now, keeping her safe was all that mattered to him.

* * * * *

The old abbot smiled as he pushed the doors inward. “It is a tremendous honor to have such an illustrious visitor,” he said, clearly delighted. “I fear our monastery is off the beaten path, as they say, and we rarely have visitors more than once a month or so at the most.” His smile did not fade, but a look of confusion flickered across his features. “If I may ask, however… surely there were more thorough historical records available to you at other monasteries?”

            “One would think,” the visitor said darkly. “However, the other libraries I investigated were all more heavily trafficked. I did not desire to be disturbed during my research.”

            Confusion was now cemented on the old man’s face. “My lord, I cannot imagine anyone would dare interrupt the work of an agent of the throne! And one of your illustrious record!” He paused for a moment. “My lord, you have looked over your shoulder several times now. Is there something that concerns you?”

            Seppun Tashime smiled, but it was not genuine. “My last visit to a monastery ended somewhat badly,” he said. “I am simply… being cautious.”

            “I assure you, Seppun-sama, that no brother at this monastery would dare raise his hand against you. This is a place of contemplation.”

            “Thank you, brother abbot,” Tashime said. “I find your reassurances comforting.” He gestured to the massive rack of scrolls where the abbot had stopped. “Are these the historical records I requested access to?”

            The abbot bowed deeply. “They are. Do you require assistance, my lord?”

            Tashime returned the gesture. “I do not, brother abbot, but I thank you for your offer. If I might be left alone, I will endeavor to disturb nothing else within your library.”

            The abbot’s smile returned. “Very well, my lord. I will check back at mid-day and see if you require anything.” The monk retreated quietly while Tashime stared at the scrolls with a light sigh.

            Some days it seemed that he had spent his entire life rooting around in libraries.

            Tashime looked up several hours later, grimacing at the stiffness in his neck. He had been poring over the histories of the Brotherhood for many hours, and had lost track of time. The abbot was approaching with another of the brothers, this one bearing a tray that appeared to contain both tea and rice. There was a dull rumbling in Tashime’s stomach at the thought of food. The second monk was wearing a basket hat, which caused the magistrate’s eyes to narrow, but he did not grow concerned. At least, not yet.

            “Greetings, honorable magistrate!” the abbot said cheerfully. “We have brought you something to sate your body while you seek to sate your mind. I hope it does not offend!”

            “Not at all,” Tashime said, setting the scrolls aside. “I am very grateful. Thank you.”

            The abbot smild and bowed, and glanced at the scrolls. “You have made tremendous progress,” he observed. “Tell me, have you found that which you see?”

            “Partially,” Tashime said, stirring the tea. “It is a bit hotter than I am accustomed to drinking. I hope you are not offended if I permit it to cool for a moment.”

            “Of course, of course,” the abbot said with a wave. “May I inquire what it is you are researching? I have no wish to be impolite, I am merely curious.”

            “I would be happy to explain,” Tashime said, “if you would but explain your associate’s strange headgear. The basket hat is normally a traveling adornment.”

            “Oh,” the abbot said. “Our brother here took a vow of anonymity in addition to his more traditional vows. I have not known him for long but I understand his was a position of some prominence in the Empire and he desires that it would not interfere with his search for enlightenment.”

            “Ah,” Tashime said with a nod, then added, “Odd you would mention enlightenment. That has some bearing on what I seek.”

            “You seek enlightenment, brother?” the abbot said, clearly excited.

            “No,” Tashime corrected. “However, I am quite interested in the fallibility of those who do seek it.”

            The abbot’s expression went completely blank. “My lord?”

            “The perception of the Brotherhood is one of wise monks, in complete harmony with the universe itself and capable of perceiving the very spirits of those around them.” He shrugged. “There are many among your order like that, I will not deny it, but there are just as many who are as yet tied to worldly concerns that they are simple to deceive when told that which they want to hear.”

            The abbot’s expression grew severe. “Are you implying that you have deceived me, my lord?”
            “I am not,” Tashime said. “I am directly stating, however, that the Brotherhood has been deceived, and on a grandiose scale I would not have believed imaginable.”

            “What do you mean?”

            Tashime fixed the old man with a piercing stare. “Are you familiar with the Order of Venom?”

            The old man frowned. “I am, to some extent. An order formed some years ago. They have adherents who are somewhat… atypical, but the Brotherhood is loathe to stifle the paths of others unless they endanger their spirits and those of others. The Order of Venom is quite militant, but they have remained in the background.”

            “How pervasive is their presence?”

            “Not very,” the abbot said. “Truthfully I do not know. Their members are few and far between. Perhaps two or three might be present at some of the largest temples and monasteries, but for the most part they are largely absent from the order’s day to day affairs.”

            “I see,” Tashime said. “And the order’s founder?”

            “I do not recall his name,” the abbot confessed. “As I remember it, he was a monk who had lost his way and returned to the fold only after having ventured too far. He created the order espousing the martial and militant philosophies that he claimed brought him back into harmony with the universe.”

            “Do you not find the name odd?”

            The abbot frowned. “I was told at one point that the founder survived the bite of a venomous serpent, and that it was the inspiration for his philosophy of growing stronger through exposure to deadly threats.”

            “Perhaps,” Tashime mused. “I find it more likely that he was a weak-minded pretender that simply thought the name would inspire fear.”

            “Magistrate!” the abbot said, clearly offended. “Please, maintain respect for elders of the Brotherhood?”

            “Elder?” Tashime scoffed. “We speak of a fool and a weakling with a penchant for fabrication. Nothing more.”

            The second monk was a blur of movement. Tashime had anticipated it, but the man’s speed still managed to catch him off-guard. The magistrate partially deflected the kick, but its sheer power drove him backward, nearly knocking over the shelves of scrolls and driving the breath from his lungs. “Brother!” the abbot shouted in a panicked, high-pitched voice. “What are you doing?!”

            The basket hat had fallen away, revealing the cloth swaddling beneath it. The monk brought his hand down in a knife-hand strike that Tashime blocked at the man’s forearm, but which left his left arm numb almost to the shoulder. He drove his knee upward into the monk’s abdomen, or attempted to. The strike was blocked, but it was merely a feint. Tashime cracked his forehead across the bridge of the man’s nose, obscured partially by cloth as it was. There was a sharp report and a grunt of pain, then the cloth covering the man’s face began to slowly turn red. “A name,” Tashime rasped as the monk backed up to assume a new stance. “Tell me her name.”

            The monk said nothing, circling, looking for an opening. Tashime had his blade in his hands now, and was prepared for the worst. With these men, he had learned, surprise was essential; when they were prepared, there was little that could be done save kill or be killed. If the man would not speak, then Tashime knew the outcome.

            His enemy came at him, moving like the wind itself, launching a flurry of feints that the magistrate struggled to keep pace with, constantly moving his blade in an attempt to fend off any actual assault. He could perceive the pattern, but the monk was simply too fast for him to keep up. There was a stinging impact on his left shoulder, and he lost all feeling. The hand fell away from the blade, which Tashime now held awkwardly only in his right hand.

            “Foolish,” the monk said, breaking his silence at last. “When you were spared, you should have walked away. Now it has cost you your life.” The monk moved in for the kill.

            Tashime’s stance shifted suddenly, the awkwardly held blade suddenly light and darting. It intervened as the monk’s attack came, severing his arm above the right elbow. The man did little more than hiss in pain, but Tashime’s follow-up strike removed one of his legs at the knee as well. With a grunt, the monk collapsed in the floor, his blood coming quickly now.

            “You will die,” Tashime said, his voice completely unemotional. He still could not move his arm and made a mental note to thank the Mirumoto sensei who had taught him the basics of the Niten style that allowed him to wield his blade one-handed. “Before you die, speak her name to me.”

            “Who?” the abbot nearby demanded, his moment of catatonic shock seemingly broken. “Who is it you seek?”

            “She is called the Grey Woman,” the monk said. “Some say she is the favored student of Michio. Some say that he despises her. Regardless, she is powerful indeed.”

            “What is her real name?” Tashime pressed.

            The monk laughed, and died.

            The old abbot’s hands were shaking. “I… I am sorry you did not find out what you wished to know, magistrate.”

            Tashime said nothing for a moment. “I already know her name,” he said quietly. “I only hoped that he might prove me wrong.”

Discuss the events of this fiction in our Story Forum!

Among the Jeweled Champions, the Emerald and Jade Champions are lifetime appointments determined by the results of massive tournaments. The Amethyst Championship is likewise a lifetime appointment, although that position is filled at the discretion of the Imperial families, who select the most prominent courtier of a generation. The Ruby Champion is selected by the Emerald Champion from a number of applicants, and serves at the Emerald Champion’s discretion. The Topaz Champion is the most gifted young samurai of a generation, selected at a grueling gempukku tournament and serving for a period of one year.

Or at least, this is how it has been until now.

The Divine Empress, in her infinite wisdom, recognizes the difficulty that samurai possess in refraining from war with their enemies. Is it not the duty and nature of a samurai to seek war? In light of this, the Child of Heaven has ordered the Emerald, Jade, Amethyst, and Ruby Champions to hold their respective tournaments on an annual basis, not to replace the Champions, but to give the samurai of the Empire an outlet for their competitive natures, and to provide opportunities for advancement. Each year, each of the Champions (save the Topaz) will hold a tournament of the sort normally used to fill the position, and the winner of these tournaments will become favored vassals of the Champions. The Jade Champion, for example, will oversee the Jade Championship each year, and from that tournament the winner shall join the Jade Champion as one of his advisors and agents in use throughout the Empire. In this manner, the Empress fosters positive outlets for inter-clan rivalries and encourages cooperation between the clans.

In addition to these positions, based upon her desire to continue sponsoring the sophistication and refinement so often neglected among the samurai caste, the Empress has created a new position, the Turquoise Champion, to be determined on an annual basis in a competition to identify the greatest artisan in the Empire. The Turquoise Champion, once identified, will have one year to sponsor art and beauty throughout the land in whatever manner suited to the artisan in question, then surrender his title to his successor the following year, although an individual Champion is free to defend his position in the competition as he sees fit.

As is so often the case, the Lost mirror their pure counterparts in the Empire with tournaments of their own. The insidious Obsidian Champion, greatest warrior and champion of Shourido, and the malevolent Onyx Champion, the most powerful of all the Lost’s blood sorcerers, likewise have been commanded by their dark lord Daigotsu to hold an annual tournament. Unlike the Empire, however, the Obsidian Champion and Onyx Champion hold their tournaments to see if it is possible to defend their title and retain their position. All among the Lost who hunger for power and influence are free to try and take the positions by force, if they so desire.

The Jeweled Championships have been a part of L5R since the first Emerald Championship in 1996. This year we are expanding the Jeweled Championships into an 8 Premier Event series. These events will be run all over the Globe, giving fans all over the world a chance to have a huge impact over the L5R storyline. Today we are excited to announce the locations for the 2010 Jeweled Events. As more specific information becomes available we will keep you updated.

The Amethyst Championships
Location:  Greece
TO: Manolis Trahiotis <mantrah@hotmail.com>
Date: July 2010

********

The Turquoise Championship
Location:  Neutral Grounds, Philippines
TO:  Des Tan
Date:  August 2010

********

The Ruby Championships
Location:  TBA (announcement in March)
TO: TBA
Date: TBA

********

The Emerald Championships
Location:  Sacramento, California
TO:  Bryan Reese <breese@alderac.com>
Date:  October 2nd, 2010

********

The Obsidian Championships
Location:  Feeding Hills, Massachusetts
TO: Eric Devlin <SmokeSignals@bbq-brethren.net>
Date:  October 2010

********

The Onyx Championships
Location:  Santiago, Chile
TO:  Mario Luncumilla <bayushi_shite@hotmail.com>
Date:  November 2010

********

The Jade Championships
Location:  Spain
TO:  Pablo Rojo <projo@millenniumdist.com>
Date:  December 2010

********

The Topaz Championship
Location:  Chicago Illinois
TO:  Mike Colson <mcolson@alderac.com>
Date:  January 1st, 2011

Children in the Garden

By Shawn Carman

Edited by Fred Wan

The Empire of Rokugan belonged to the Empress Iweko I by right of celestial appointment. The whole of the land was hers to do with as she saw fit. Despite this, it somehow made Togashi Satsu quite nervous when she suddenly decided to leave the palace. Even within the Imperial City, there was no end to the list of potential threats that could be concealed behind a seemingly innocuous façade. Satsu vastly preferred the security of the palace, with trips scheduled far in advance, where the only thing that he had to fear was potential treachery of some minor sort by the Imperial Advisor and, perhaps, the Emerald Champion.

The Empress chose to walk through the innermost regions of the Imperial City, the area immediately adjoining the Imperial palace. Those who traveled in this area were almost always attendants or staff of the Imperial Court and thus were not altogether unaccustomed to the presence of their Empress. They politely knelt and then departed, allowing Iweko-sama some degree of privacy. Whether this pleased or dismayed the Empress, she had never said; Satsu was keenly aware that it pleased him and her guard for there to be so few people about.

Today, the Empress wished to visit a garden attached to one of the larger but frequently empty temples within the inner city. It was, Satsu noticed, a temple to Hotei, the Fortune of Contentment. It seemed strangely appropriate to be empty, as so many who worked within the inner city were rarely content, always working toward some new goal or objective. The ringing laughter from within indicated that the garden was a site of play for children, which caused Satsu to smile as he thought of his own family. The Empress, normally brilliant to look upon, was somehow even more radiant at the sound. Satsu, who rarely discussed anything of a personal nature with anyone, much less the Empress, wondered if, in the aftermath of her wedding, the Empress looked forward to her own family. In truth he did not know if such things mattered to her any more. It seemed strange, the idea of a literal avatar of the Celestial Heavens looking forward to motherhood. Satsu decided he would try not to think about such things. It would do no one any good for him to forget that he served a divine entity.

Near the center of the garden, the Empress sat upon a low stone bench and indicated that her guard should leave her. It was clear that Shiba Erena, First among the guard, wished otherwise, but a devout guardian such as herself would not speak against her orders. Reluctantly, the guard withdrew to secure the perimeter of the garden.

The children playing seemed to take little notice of the new visitors, and certainly did not seem to recognize the presence among them. Some looked upon her slightly longer than the others, their expressions awed. Potential shugenja, Satsu thought, perhaps hearing the whispers of the kami that constantly swirled around the Empress. The children moved on quickly, caught up in some game of chase. One remained behind, however, staring at the pair with a somewhat unnerving expression.

Recognition came to Satsu after a moment. “Child,” he said softly, “were you in attendance at the Winter Court in Scorpion lands last year?”

“Yes, sama!” the girl piped up merrily. “My name is Oki!”

“Oki,” Satsu repeated. “Who are your parents, Oki?”

“My father is Fu Leng!” she said proudly.

Satsu’s heart stopped for a moment. “What did you say?”

The girl’s features twisted and changed, taking on a much more ominous look, and a sudden presence was with them. She spoke again, and this time her voice was two voices speaking in tandem; one was a little girl’s, and the other that of a grown man. “You will please forgive the pekkle,” a voice said. “Despite their talent for deception, the young ones are quite literal-minded.”

“Daigotsu!” Satsu spat.

“In the flesh,” the voice said as the body curtsied awkwardly. “Such as it is.”

            Satsu glared at the child-demon, his expression fierce. “That you have been allowed this close to the Child of Heaven is an atrocity of the first order,” he said gravely. “There will be punishment among the Empress’ Guard.”

            The child laughed, and for a moment, it was nothing more than a child’s laughter. Daigotsu’s voice returned quickly, however. “Does it make you feel better, to vow that there will be consequences, particularly when you cannot take vengeance upon me? How short-sighted.” She cocked her head to the side curiously, as if considering something. It made her resemble a puppet. “I will share a piece of information with you, one that you have no doubt wondered about for many years. The wards placed upon your palace and its grounds are quite effective. The ones upon this garden, while hastily inscribed and weaker, are still quite formidable. Unfortunately for you, the willingly given life’s blood of a follower of Fu Leng can and will weaken and destroy all but the most powerful ward. There is little in the mortal realm that the touch of my master cannot eradicate.” He paused. “It is quite costly, however.”

            Satsu’s fury was evident, and he opened his mouth to speak, but the Empress held her hand up and stopped him. “The Empress wishes to know your intent,” he said through clenched teeth.

            “The Empress summoned me, but will not speak with me directly?” Oki clicked her tongue. “How impolite.”

“You are least fit of all men to hear her voice,” Satsu spat. “Its purity would surely scour the flesh from your very bones!”

“How interesting,” the child demon replied. “Regardless, I repeat my initial question. For what reason have you summoned me, Child of Heaven?”

“The Empress is aware that you have had contact with refugees from across the Burning Sands,” Satsu said. “Merely one of your many crimes.”

“Is that your assessment or hers?” Daigotsu asked. “I am uninterested in a litany of my alleged sins, if that is the purpose of this meeting.”

“It is the desire of the Empress to hear that which you know about these Destroyers that plague the southern Empire.”

Daigotsu-Oki smiled. “I am of course flattered at your assumption of my knowledge,” he replied. “What makes you think I know of such things?”

“You have held parlay with members of the blasphemous gaijin cult known as the Jackals,” Satsu answered. “Why would anyone flee to a land known to be as xenophobic as the Empire unless they faced a greater threat?”

“Hmph,” Daigotsu said. “On anyone else, a fleeting moment of omniscience would be easily squandered. On a Kitsuki I find it unbearably inconvenient. I suppose there may be some meager value to the family’s utterly ridiculous preoccupation with minutia.”

“The Divine Child of Heaven has asked you a question,” Satsu reminded him.

“One I have not decided to answer,” Daigotsu returned. “Why should I choose to do so?”

Satsu drew back, clearly aghast. “You speak to a scion of the Celestial Heavens!”

“One who has made it clear that my life is meaningless,” Daigotsu growled. “And regardless, you speak to a scion of Jigoku. I consider our terms equal.”

“Are they?” Satsu asked quietly. “Your dark master sits no more among the Realm of Evil any more than he does the Celestial Heavens. Your patronage is no more. You are little more than a criminal wave man, a bandit who…”

“Enough!” Daigotsu commanded, his voice echoing throughout the garden. “I will not hear such heresy! Speak it again and this meeting shall end without any gain!”

“Nothing will come of this regardless,” Satsu said with a dismissive sneer. “You came to hear your own voice and play word games. You have nothing of importance to say.”

“I can give you information that you desire,” Daigotsu answered. “But I will not do so freely.”

Satsu’s eyes narrowed, but he listened intently to something that no other could hear. He glanced at the Empress as if for confirmation, then bowed his head. “What is it that you desire?”

“The restoration of the Hantei as an Imperial family,” he answered at once. “In service to the throne, of course. I and my son are the last true descendants of the Hantei line.”

Satsu slowly shook his head. “That cannot be done. It shall not.”

“Then perhaps the Voice was correct, and there is nothing to be said.”

“Perhaps not,” Satsu agreed. “Not unless you have a more reasonable request.”

Oki seemed to consider for a moment. “I will impart a portion of that which you desire,” he finally said. “In exchange, you will permit one of my agents to remain within the city. Under guard, of course, but you will ensure that he is not subjected to the brutality of the Great Clans, and that he will be free to correspond as he sees fit.”

Satsu raised an eyebrow. “Is not the Imperial Advisor one of your agents? It seems this bargain has been fulfilled long ago.”

“I can no longer be absolutely convinced of Susumu’s loyalties,” Daigotsu said after a moment. “I have been forced to consider that proximity to the Empress may have… altered his priorities somewhat.”

Satsu blinked in surprise, but then bowed his head to the Empress and continued. “The Empress desires to know why you believe that another agent would not be similarly compromised?”

“I trust this man because he had vows prior to entering my service, and he has not yet violated them. Thus I see no reason to believe that he will violate his vows to me.”

The Voice frowned. “Who is this man?”

“I shall summon him, if the Empress permits.” Seeing her nod, Oki closed her eyes for a moment. Then opened them and smiled. “He comes.”

The three of them waited in silence for a short while before a figure emerged from the hedge rows, having apparently been concealed somewhere within the garden prior to the entourage’s entrance. Which also meant that Daigotsu had been prepared for his initial request to be refused. Satsu stared at the newcomer for a moment in surprise. “Taishuu? Mirumoto Taishuu?”

The samurai bowed sharply to the Voice and the Empress, then to the child-demon. “It is merely Taishuu, my lord. For now.”

“Taishuu shall be remanded into the custody of the Empress’ Guard until arrangements can be made for a residence and a permanent duty guard,” Satsu answered. “Your terms shall be observed upon the word of the Divine Empress.”

“I find that sufficient,” Daigotsu answered. “What will the nature of our relationship be following the conclusion of this meeting?”

“There is no relationship,” Satsu answered. “You are an enemy of the throne. Your reprieve shall end at sunset.”

“Naturally.” He pondered a moment. “Is there no way to alter that relationship?”

“You were summoned to appear before the Empress and answer her questions,” Satsu replied. “You chose instead to speak through a demon masquerading as a child, and to bargain to meet your own ends. If you had chosen otherwise, if you had demonstrated any interest in the safety of the Empire or its inhabitants, who knows what the result might have been?”

Oki shrugged. “I regret nothing.”

“Tell the Empress what you know of the Destroyers now, please,” Satsu said.

The demon child smiled.

* * * * *

            Shiba Erena struggled with her anger as she placed her blades upon the stand and regarded the exquisite armor arrayed next to it. The armor was for formal court settings, and had not been necessary today. The storm inside her spirit longed to lash out and hurl the armor to the ground, but she would not succumb to such petulance. She was a warrior, not a spoiled child. “Today’s events were completely unacceptable,” she finally said, her tone completely even despite her mood.

            “I do not think anyone here will disagree,” the ever-serene tone of Ikoma Tobikuma’s almost musical voice answered from behind her. “The question is, could we have done something differently? I fear the answer is no.”

            Erena turned to face the others calmly. “I do not accept that answer.”

            Hida Tatsuma laughed. It was a bitter sound. “Do you see? Do you see what the Crab are forced to deal with? How can you ferret out a demon that masquerades perfectly as a child, with no sign of its true nature? How can you stop a man who can send his filthy soul across the Empire into the body of demons? It’s outrageous!”

            Erena held up a hand. “None of us question the difficulty of your clan’s task, but that is not the point of our discussion. We were individually selected by the Emperor’s Chosen to protect the Empress. I do not care about the nature of the threats that face her, only that they can be stopped.”

            Tsuruchi Sanjo smirked. “Even those we have no realistic chance to stop in advance?”

            “Especially those,” Erena answered. “We need shugenja.”

            “What about the Hidden Guard?” Sanjo asked.

            Tobikuma shook his head. “The Hidden Guard are loyal to the Empress and the Seppun family, in that order.”

            “So?”

            “So the Seppun consider the existence of this unit, and our individual clan affiliations, a suggestion that they cannot perform their duties,” Tobikuma answered. “We cannot depend upon them to be our allies, particularly in a matter like this.”

            “They will use it as leverage to petition for our dismissal and replacement,” Erena agreed. “With Seppun guardsmen, of course.” She considered for a moment. “I may have a solution to the issue of shugenja, but I will doubtless require your collective assistance.” She smiled. “Thank you, my friends. You are dismissed to your individual duty shifts.”

            The others began to file out, but just before the room was emptied, Erena spoke again, quietly. “Idzuki, Hirose… a moment.”

            The Crane and Scorpion glanced at one another briefly, then turned back to their commander. Bayushi Hirosei closed the screen quietly to ensure that no one lingering in the corridor beyond could overhear. “What is it, commander?” Idzuki asked.

            “You each hold military appointments within your clans, do you not?”

            The two glanced at one another again. “Yes,” the Crane answered.

            “Would it be possible for your units to be seconded to the guard, privately, and moved to the Imperial City?”

            Kakita Idzuki frowned, but the tilt of Hirose’s head suggested he was smiling behind his mask. “You wish to amass a greater force at our disposal? For what purpose?”

            “For the purpose of ensuring that the Empress is safe regardless of the circumstances, regardless of whatever ridiculous political games the Imperial families wish to play,” Erena answered.

            Hirose chuckled. “The feathers hide talons, I think. I will do as you request, commander.”

            “With respect, Erena-sama,” Idzuki said, “why not Naomasa or Kasei? They could call upon more troops than we can.”

            “And the Lion Clan would quickly find out and assume we are incapable of our duties,” Erena answered. “I will not have our every move second guessed by outsiders who covet the prestige of this appointment. Is that clear?”

            “Perfectly,” Idzuki said with a bow. “It shall be done.”

Discuss the events of this fiction in our Story Forum!

The Imperial Wedding

By Rusty Priske

Based in part on content from Winter Court

Edited by Fred Wan

Togashi Satsu looked around at the Miya arrayed before him. While they looked calm, Satsu knew that they could feel the anticipation throughout the court. He knew that they could feel the weight of the coming events on their shoulders as heavily as the greatest burden one carries through life.

He knew all of that because he felt the same thing.

He gathered his thoughts and then said, “Go. It is time.”

* * * * *

Daidoji Juri stepped off the boat onto the docks outside the Temple of the Jade Sun. She looked up at the awe-inspiring structure, for a moment taken away from the reason she came. The Sun blessed the temple with its existence, but on this day it was blessed again as the rays of light flooded the structure, making the whole area glow with a green light.

As Juri watched the other delegates climb the stairs she clasped a tightly wrapped bundle to her chest. The weight of it seemed doubled and redoubled with every step she made. Yet, somehow, it also seemed light as a feather.

Utaku Hidaki watched her with a smile, seeing the trepidation mixed with pride. He also climbed the stairs, one step at a time, as he did his best to hide his limp.

Mirumoto Mareshi mounted the stairs with the rest of the Dragon retinue behind him, with one exception. Mareshi looked around for Katsutoshi but saw no sign of him. Mareshi considered sending a runner to find the wayward Dragon, but his focus stayed on the small package wrapped in bright red paper that he carried. This was day for celebrations. If Katsutoshi missed the ceremony, it would be he who would have to answer for it.

Togashi Satsu met all who approached outside the temple itself. When they had all gathered he addressed them, speaking with his own voice, rather than passing on the words of the Empress. With a small smile, Satsu spread his arms wide as if to encompass the entirety of those gathered at the foot of the temple. “Today is a momentous day, for today Empress Iweko the First marries Akodo Setai! Although the wedding ceremony itself is usually done in private, the Divine Empress invites those who lead their families to witness her vows and prayers.”

Those of high enough rank and station filed into the temple, each trying to hide their varying levels of awe and excitement. Candles situated in nearly every possible location lit the interior of the temple – though a large walkway had been kept clear for the participants and onlookers. Standing at the base of the Jade Dragon was the abbess of the Jade Temple itself, patiently awaiting the Empress and her consort. To one side of her, all the ingredients necessary to perform the rituals of marriage waited to be put to use.

When all invited guests had filed in and were waiting with anticipation, the great doors to the jade temple were shut, leaving those not of sufficient rank to experience the ceremony only through a series of gongs, notifying them when various activities occurred.

Once the first gong had sounded, those inside witnessed the emergence of Empress Iweko and Akodo Setai. The Empress was dressed in a beautiful long black silk kimono. It had a white hand-embroidered design that contained stylistic interpretations of the animal counterpart of each of the clans, both great and small. Setai wore white from head to foot. His kimono, hakama, kataginu, even the cords of his sandals, bore no varied color.

The two betrothed met in front of the great doors, then turned and approached the abbot at a stately pace. When they reached her, they slowly knelt before the great Jade Dragon statue. The on-lookers prostrated themselves as the Empress entered, most having never seen Iweko since she rose to her lofty position.

Hiruma Todori thought on the quick glimpse of the Empress he had before lowering his forehead to the cool floor. He had not expected he would ever lay eyes on her and knew that it was a moment he would treasure forever. In that instant, every belief he had in the empire and its ruler was magnified. He knew he would do anything for her.

Tamori Shimura thought to the last time he had the opportunity to see his former kinsman. Iweko had been a family daimyo, just as Shimura was now, when she had been called by the Heavens to ascend. He remembered how honored and grateful he felt when she rose up. The feeling returned to him in a rush the moment she entered the temple.

The abbot began the ceremony by lighting a brazier. As she began to chant, she scooped up two large handfuls of sacred salt, sprinkling the couple between each line of prayer. The temple reverberated with her deep alto voice.

“We call upon the divine beings of Tengoku

To purify those before me

That all the various defiling things,

Sins and impurities be cleansed and made pure.

I proclaim and request of the heavenly spirits of the celestial realms

That we petition with reverent awe,

This we respectfully declare.”

As the echo of the abbot’s voice died, the Empress and Setai turned to face one another. The Empress’ voice was inaudible to the masses as she spoke, her voice either only for her soon-to-be husband, or perhaps simply unable to be heard by those around her. None could be certain, for normally the Voice of the Emperor spoke for her regardless.

The abbot held out a red ribbon, which the Empress took and tied around Setai’s wrist. The two turned again to the abbot and the three together offered a silent prayer.

When they looked up, the abbot handed them twigs from a sakaki tree, which they threw on the brazier. Another silent prayer followed, and as one, the new couple lit a stick of incense, then stood and faced those assembled. Attendants of the temple presented them with a tower of three cups. The Empress took three sips from the first cup before handing it to Setai who did the same. They repeated this with the second cup.

Attendants scurried from hidden alcoves to deliver similar cups to each of the witnesses. Each rose to a kneeling position, again finding themselves witness to the Empress herself and joined the newly married in their sips from the final cup, symbolizing that they were all joined as a family.

* * * * *

As those assembled outside the temple moved to the temporary pavilion erected in order to continue the celebration, Ikoma Asa found herself walking beside Doji Ayano. “A wondrous day.”

“Indeed,” replied Ayano.

“In fact, the whole of the Winter Court this year was special.”

“It is true, but I imagine it was even more so for you.”

Asa cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

Ayano smiled. “Your burgeoning links to my clan make you feel like a sister to me, so it is with some pride that I see how you have blossomed this year. You have been the talk of the court.”

Asa lifted her fan to hide her reaction. “Those words from a member of a clan who fared so well at court this year are a great honor. I thank you for your generosity.”

“Is it generosity if it is simple truth? Nobuhide is a lucky man. He is betrothed to a very talented courtier.”

Asa bowed her head in acknowledgment of Ayano’s words. “I thank you again, and I look forward to many opportunities for us to work together in the future.”

“It would be my honor, Asa-san.”

* * * * *

The feast that followed the ceremony was worthy of the occasion. Servants moved quickly so those at the lower tables did not have to wait much longer than those above. There was miso soup, the finest rice, a stunning array of vegetables prepared in every manner imaginable, cold noodles and sauce, sashimi, fried fish, shrimp, lobster, oysters, squid, mochi, red lotus buns, and the finest sake, tea, and plum wine offered at every table.

The feasting and socializing continued for some time until a subtle signal passed from the Imperial attendants to certain members of the present delegations. Hida Reiha was the first to respond as she made her apologies to those at her table. The Jade Widow rose and walked towards the main wedding party table with Ren toddling behind and the rest of the Crab delegation following. Without a command, all of the Crab bowed low to the table. Little Ren did his little bow and smiled at the Voice of the Empress.

Hida Reiha spoke loud enough for all present to hear, while couching it as a private message. “Noble Voice of the Daughter of Heaven. May we, the Children of Hida make our presentation to the Divine One and Her One and only Chosen of the Heavens?”

The Empress inclined her head slightly as the Crab Champion, filling the delegation with pride at her direct response to Reiha. The Champion continued. “To the most honorable, virtuous, and divine Empress and to her mighty, blessed, and divine spouse. We the Children of Hida do so make our presentation to your house, in full view of this assembly, this jewelled Crab forged by the hands of the Kaiu. This item also is a puzzle that unlocks, revealing a map of the entire Divine One’s lands. Everywhere the face of the Heavens shines is upon this map. As it is in the shape of this Crab; may it serve as a reminder that the Crab Clan are your lands’ noble defenders against the dark forces at all points. May it also serve as a reminder that as the Jade Sun rises and sets to the rising of the Obsidian Moon; Heavens and Earth shall always watch over you and yours. May your Union and reign never falter. Long live the line of the Divine One!” Reiha finished and returned to a deep bow.

The Empress glanced at Setai, a small smile on her face. Setai cleared his throat with a sip of sake. “Your gift is quite beautiful, sons and daughter of Hida. Thank you.”

The Phoenix were next as Isawa Kyoko approached and stopped a respectful distance from the head table. Kneeling in obeisance with the proper respect to those seated at the table, she spoke in a soft but clear voice. “Honored Voice of the Daughter of Heaven, the sons and daughters of Shiba ask permission to present their gift. Does this please the Empress?” When the Empress nodded in acceptance, she turned and bowed for her delegation to step forward, then nodded to Shiba Yoshirou to guide Isawa Keikai to the appointed spot before the head table. The Phoenix moved from their tables – with Isawa Ochiai, Master of Fire, in front of Kyoko.

Ochiai signaled for her servants to bring forward the gift as the delegation gathered as one. At the Master’s gesture, the servants opened the ornately carved box. Ochiai smiled warmly to Kyoko and reached inside, removing the gift from the box and handing it delicately to the Air tensai. She then stood next to her vassal, slightly behind, with Yoshirou. Kyoko remained in her place at the center of the gathered Phoenix delegation. As one, they elegantly knelt in obeisance.

With great care in the hands of Kyoko, the gift was left covered, wrapped elegantly about with light gauze of deeply saturated orange. Kyoko waited a moment before speaking. “Glorious Empress, Voice of the Empress, High Imperial consort, honored Chosen, worthy Daimyo and respected guests, the Phoenix delegation presents this gift with all humility and respect, on behalf of Shiba Tsukimi-sama, the Elemental Council and all her Empress’ subjects among the Phoenix…” at this cue, Yoshirou – the sole Shiba yojimbo of the delegation – gently unwrapped all the layers of the fabric that guarded the gift to reveal a simple, elegant and beautifully tended Bonsai tree. It was held aloft by Kyoko, eyes still downcast alongside the rest of her delegation. To the mundane eye the small pine was much like all bonsai; but to the trained eye it was evident that this had been tended by a master of the craft since but a seedling and it bristled while still evoking a feeling of serenity. It sat in a pot swathed in a warm shade of orange. Along the rounded surface, at each of the cardinal directions was an immaculately carved mon of the four Phoenix families. Above each mon sat a perfect Chrysanthemum.

“This bonsai, Empress, is a seedling planted specifically for this day to grow within the Grove of the Five Masters. Each master has contributed to its care and aided the Shiba artisans in its growth to perfection that you see here today. Shiba Tsukimi-sama’s family crafted the earthenware pot it is carried in.

“The Phoenix wish to convey with their gift the love of our entire clan for your Empress’ Empire, that like this Bonsai, our clan will fulfill its role to protect and nurture it to allow it to grow into further greatness. This pot was the first pot created at the Shiba artisan school by its head sensei since you came to power, Empress. Without the proper pot no Bonsai tree could properly grow, but by the same token no such pot has a purpose, a duty, in life…without the tree. The Phoenix would also be honored for the Honored Consort to care for this bonsai, as it is widely known that the greatest Bonsai trees are kept in the rooms of the greatest leaders, both spiritual and corporeal. To have the Bonsai tended by a member of the great clan whose attention to detail knows no match, would only ensure that this gentle tree is kept eternally pristine. The Phoenix present this gift to our beloved Empress and her family on this most glorious of days.”

Setai gazed upon the tree and says, “I would be honored to care for such a bonsai tree as this, as I shall strive to care to the Empire’s well being.” Setai bowed his head. “Our thanks, sons and daughters of Shiba.”

Only a moment after the departure of the Phoenix, the Scorpion delegation approached the table. As one, the entire group prostrated themselves in front of their leader. After a few heartbeats Bayushi Makubesu rose and began to speak.

“On this most glorious day, the wedding of the Divine Empress Iweko the First, the followers of Bayushi wish to offer that which we hold most dear.” Bayushi Naora walked with practiced steps through the assembled Scorpion, never turning from the Divine Empress. “We offer first a reminder of our loyalty,” Makubesu said, as Naora drew an elegantly crafted silver candlestick from his right kimono sleeve. The mons of each Clan, major and minor, as well as the mons of the Imperial families were pictured upon the bowl, save the Scorpion. Each mon was arranged and sized so as not to slight any of the clans or families. “When the first Emperor of Rokugan spoke with Bayushi, he gave him the duty to protect the Empire from the shadows. The followers of Bayushi to this day continue to do so.” Bayushi Mishiko then approached and drew a scarlet red candle from her left kimono sleeve and placed it in the pricket. Once she has done this, Bayushi Ikkou came forth and lit the candle.

“The light of heaven guides us through the Divine Empress, just as the light of her consort shall illuminate her always, and so long as the Divine light shines, the Scorpion will be in the shadows to protect it,” Makubesu declared, then placed the now-lit candle upon a tray held by Bayushi Komiya, standing a bit back from the rest. As he removed his hand from the stem, the mon of the Scorpion is now visible below the bow in the shadow of the candle’s light.

“And as a companion piece to the light that shines behind and through the Empress…,” Makubesu began as servants brought a large cloth-wrapped rectangle, roughly the same size as the Empress’ screen, to the delegation. The cloth was thrown back, and underneath was a new screen. “We of the Scorpion are familiar with masks both seen and unseen. But while some things are concealed, a mask can also help express one’s self more clearly. Your Voice carries your words as no one else in the Empire could, however his position is to express your will to your loyal subjects, not necessarily your mood. As such, we have commissioned our artisans to create this for you. The cloth of the screen has been blessed by the kami so that should the Divine Empress wish it, it will display a myriad of colored patterns to better express your mood. From deep blue, sea-like patterns for sadness, to vibrant orange whorls for excitement, to a relaxing aqua field for tranquility, to a menacing red with striations of deeper red for anger. These are but a few of the patterns it can present. All you need to do is wish and the screen will gradually shift to the desired color. Should you wish the more neutral color of your current screen, that has been included as well.” The servants then moved the large screen off to the side of the pavilion. When they did so, they passed in front of Makubesu to demonstrate how the candle’s light casts the appropriate silhouette upon it.

Makubesu then returned to his position amongst the delegation and prostrated himself. The rest of the delegation quickly followed suit.

Setai glanced at the Empress before speaking who nodded, almost imperceptibly. “Our most humble thanks, sons and daughters of Bayushi, for your gift. Your consideration of the Empress’ needs are well thought, and your dedication to the task given you is not forgotten.” As he finished speaking, the Scorpion rose and retreated to their appropriate stations.

The gift from the Crane was then presented by Doji Nagori. He clapped once and servants brought forward a green lacquered palanquin with nine veils of the finest and thinnest yellow silk on the side. Inside the palanquin was a huge vase with nine by nine red chrysanthemums, composed to display good fortune and fertility.

The vase depicted the final moment of the War of Dark Fire where Setai killed the enemy general. A samurai of each Clan and a single monk appear in the background.

Beside the vase is a two kimono rack.

The first stem holds a red kuro-tomosode woven with the most delicate silk found in the Empire. On the kimono nine red chrysanthemums mon were displayed. The chrysanthemums showed eighteen petals and around each mon was one if the great dragon.

The second stem held a red kimono nearly identical with the first but where dragons appeared on the first, togers appeared on the second.

Nagori approached with a younger Crane who held a single red chrysanthemum. Nagori and the other Crane prostrated themselves and when given leave to rise, Nagori said, “Great Divine one, great Setai-sama, allow the humble Crane to present this simple gift to you.”

Nagori gestured to the young Crane with him. “This is Doji Asami, who holds a new strand of flowers made by our Hanegansi family for you. Since the beginning the Royal Family has been recognized by the chrysanthemum. As such, it is only natural for the new reign and a new lineage should have a new version of the symbol, so all will see it and remember for all time the greatness you and your prodigy will do for our Empire. As these simple ones are brought to you here now, Seeds have been sent to your residence in Toshi Ranbo so when you arrive you may decide where you would like to plant these in the Gardens. Doji Domotai wanted this to show again our respect of this great union and the desire of the Crane to serve in any way you may wish us to.”

“A beautiful gift, worthy of the sons and daughters of Doji. I am sure the Royal Gardener will be able to find a perfect location for the flowers. Thank you.” At Setai’s blessing, Nagori and Asami withdraw.

Ikoma Yasuko was the next to request permission to approach the head table. Once this was granted she spoke for her clan. “The Lion have served as the Right Hand of the Emperor since the dawn of the Empire. As the heavens have been anointed with a new star, the Lion herald new heroes. As we mark this momentous occasion, the combined armies of the Lion, Unicorn, and Crab fight those who are anathema to your divine will. We honor those who sacrifice themselves for the greater glory of the Empire.”

Here, Yasuko lowered her head, giving a momentary of silence for those samurai who served on the front lines. “Each generation has its challenges. If our ancestors are our guide, they have shown us clearly that our youth will always triumph in the face of adversity striving ever forward to greater service.

“I present, Ikoma Asa, a rising star within the Lion, to present the gift of the Lion.”

The poet stepped forward and again pressed her forehead to the backs of her hands, a faint blush upon her dark cheeks from Yasuko’s compliments.

“Most Glorious Divine One, Most Honored Imperial Consort, your patience with this unworthy servant is most gracious.” Asa gestured and the two attendants bearing the chest stepped forward and set it down without lifting their eyes. They knelt and then withdrew. The poet undid the latch on the chest with simple motion of her hand, yet she did not open it.

“It has been written that two warriors can know each other most intimately only after they have crossed swords. That an opponent’s nature can only be revealed through conflict, and that there is no clearer communication than through battle. Courtiers echo these moments in times when they match wits in Sadane, where a similar conflict is staged.”

“Twice in history have texts been written to answer the words of the Lion. When Akodo Haru penned Leadership, Bayushi Tangen attempted to respond with Lies. Otomo Madoko also tried to compare court to a battlefield in his work, The Subtlety of Court.”

The poet bowed again, and lifted the lid of the chest. Within, resting on red velvet, were a pair of scrolls that held a faint golden glow.

“Upon these scrolls are those two texts, and far more. These works have traveled to distant places and returned enriched. Betwixt the verses and stanzas, around the lines and the kanji, are responses to these great authors, reactions to the words within these great works. Matsu Itagi, Akodo Shakato, Matsu Zaruko, Ikoma Kaoku, Matsu Noshin, Akodo Hirano, Kitsu Osuji, Ikoma Teidai… Champions, daimyo, heroes, scholars, poets. These two texts engaged the Lion in discourse, and now these scroll contain responses from among the revered ancestors of our clan. These are not words of rancor, nor verbal snarls. They are the earnest and heartfelt words of the respected dead, words of analysis, praise, and sometimes disagreement. Centuries ago, the Lion offered two strikes and observed the two reactions. Now, the Lion adjust the course of these strikes, and in this is the truest knowledge of our heart.

“The purpose is not to enlighten or assist in governance, for the Divine Empress needs no such things. Contained within this text are the perspectives of numerous honored ancestors resting in their deserved repose in Yomi, their lives scattered across the history of the Empire. In these words contains the heart of the Lion, and a unique view regarding how it has grown through the ages. The lives, bodies, and souls of the Lion are ever the Throne’s to command. Our resolve will never waver, our devotion never falter. One Kitsu may speak to dozens in their lifetime, but never before has this been done, never before a text compiling the words of Yomi’s honored inhabitants.

“In this, the Lion give to the Empress and her honored spouse our heart of hearts, a view of our people that has never before existed, a lens by which we can be known far better than any Lion has known themselves.”

Setai’s face glowed with a bearing of pride as he said, “To know the hearts of her subjects, past, present, and future is a noble gift indeed. Our thanks, sons and daughters of Akodo.”

Asa and Yasuko bowed deeply at the reception of the Lion’s gift and then withdrew.

After the Lion presentation, Ide Eien nodded to those sitting with him before rising and approaching the head table while a ji-samurai of the Unicorn brought a large rectangular frame covered by a simple cloth and stood a respectful distance behind him.

He prostrated himself before the Empress and her consort. At their signal he rose and smiled to each before saying, “Divine One, the Unicorn have long been the force of speed and movement used by the Empire to reach far flung areas quickly and efficiently. We traveled the breadth of the world in the pursuit of that which was out there and we returned as our Lady Shinjo-kami always said she would. Our time in the Empire has been tumultuous, though we stand beside our brothers, sisters, and cousins of the other Clans against any and all outside threats. In recent years the Unicorn have suffered greatly but as the Empire rebuilds from the ashes of the War of Dark Fire and even as our forces fight alongside our brothers and sisters in the Crab and Lion to the south against the invaders there, we rebuild to give the Empire our strength and our conviction.” Eien took a slight pause and then said, “In honor of your glorious marriage this day and for the continued reign by the Will of the Heavens, we wish to honor you with a gift that was given to the Hantei dynasty upon our return as a sign of our loyalty, our duty, and our Love.” Eien motioned for the vassal to reveal the frame. On it was a simple painting of a pair of Utaku bred steeds looking over a newborn foal. “Divine One, this painting was done by our Khan’s own daughter, Naleesh, with help from her mother, Akasha. As the Khan was unable to attend he wanted to present this gift of his family in lieu of the breeding pair of Utaku Steed from the Khan’s personal stable that will await your return to the mainland and the Imperial City.” Eien prostrated himself again and awaited the Imperial Response.

It was not long coming as Setai nodded and said, “A beautiful gift, sons and daughters of Shinjo. You have our thanks for such noble steeds.”

Across the pavilion, Mirumoto Mareshi saw Katsutoshi at a far table. The daimyo wondered why he had not joined the Dragon contingent earlier, but this was not the time to concern himself with it, as it was time for the Dragon to present their gift. Slowly rising from his seat, Mareshi drew another single breath, the small token in his hands visible to everyone present.

Accompanied by all of the Dragon delegation – minus Katsutoshi but including the wizened Tonbo Rintaro – Mareshi held the small gift towards Togashi Kotoha and nodded to her. The tattooed maiden then joined him at the front of the delegation, holding the token carefully while brandishing a charming smile.

When they arrived in front of the Imperial presence, Mareshi knelt, quickly followed by the other members of the Dragon Clan. He glanced towards Kotoha and the Togashi maiden revealed the gift.

It was wrapped in vibrant red paper, folded in multiple layers. Once unwrapped, the Togashi revealed a lovely lacquered box, each side of the box featuring a wood-carving of a plum tree in the four different seasons. The lid was inlaid with a golden dragon, holding a plum blossom in one claw.

Opening the box at another faint nod, Kotoha revealed a fine purple plum, cushioned on red silk. The plum looked fresh and ripe.

 “The Dragon”, Mareshi said, raising his voice enough for everyone being able to follow his words, “offers what it always has, my Empress: its never ending loyalty, its humble service to the throne, the lives of every man, woman and child who lives and dies at your command.

 “The gift we wish to add here is a glimpse of wisdom and insight, found in this humble fruit. A plum was the first nourishment Togashi accepted when he understood. We hope you will accept it as a humble reminder of where you – the both of you -, came from, and how far you have risen above us all.

“A plum, sweet and ripe on the outside, contains a stone, and just like the family the Divine Empress has come from, by eating it, one is able to delve into the heart of the matter, finding answers where none have been visible, before. The plum represents wisdom, and by planting the stone into your gardens – as we hope you will consider doing -, a small plum of humble origins will manage to grow into something more. Endless opportunities will blossom in time, and more insight will be found with every new fruit growing on its branches.

“Both the Divine Empress and this plum share the same origins, and both have the ability to rise above that. We wish for nothing more than to watch the both of you to follow the path you were meant to tread on.

“May you, Divine Empress, find your destiny and understand.

“May you, Divine husband, find insight and joy as your new destiny reveals itself.

“May this dynasty blossom and grow, and bear many more fruits, so the empire will be secured.

“There is nothing else the Dragon could offer you but this humble token of appreciation and reverence.”

Setai nearly smirked, but he held it in and simply smiled before saying, “That we should always remember our origins is at the heart of all understanding. Our thanks, sons and daughters of Togashi.”

More than just the great clans had gifts to present and, after receiving the nod from the appropriate Seppun, Yotsu Seou moved proudly towards the main table, motioning the ronin present to follow her. In her hands, she carried a medium sized bundle, roughly two feet in all directions; a delicate, pure white fabric covering it. As she approached the table, her eyes found the floor, her vision never reaching the Divine Empress. Once she was as close as she dared walk, Seou prostrated herself, holding the bundle up, so as it never touched the floor. “Divine Daughter of the Heavens”, said Seou, still bowed. “Those who are not worthy, request on this day the honor to offer a gift to the Divine Couple.”

The Imperial Couple look interested in what Seou has to offer and the ronin recognized the great honor. “The ronin thank the Divine Couple for this opportunity.” Seou raised a bit, her head still lowered, so as to never match the couple’s height.

“In the name of the Legion of Two-Thousand, and all the wavemen who serve the Empire with honor, the Sword of Yotsu presents this gift.”

Seou then removed the fabric that covered the gift, revealing a well crafted basket, made out entirely of bamboo, its shape and resembling that of a suiban. Tinted dark brown, the basket was perfectly square. On the side facing the Divine Couple, carved in perfect cherry bark, was the symbol of the wolf. Next to it, in a smaller size and following around the basket, were the mons and symbols of all the ronin organizations, beginning with the Yotsu mon, and the Legion’s on each side.

As Seou held the basket, a small shadow seems to move inside it. Covered in silk fabric, the same color as that used to cover the gift, something seemed to hop around. Suddenly, a happy grunt, a bark, came from a small reddish creature, as it showed its head.

“If it is the will of the Heavens, this one presents the first-born of Ouni, loyal companion to the Legion of Two-Thousand, and their fierce defender. Born to a warrior, who is said to have brought down more enemies than most seasoned ronin, this Akita Inu represents the loyalty and faithful service those of no-name have for the Empire.”

At this point the small dog seemed to lower her head, as if offering a bow to the Empress and her Consort, falling in perfect silence. The golden red fur that covered her even at such a young age was perfectly clean, almost shining in the sun light. Showing both the patience of a seasoned warrior, and the impatience of a young child, the dog remained in this position, only wagging her tail in anticipation.

“Since her birth, she was given to the great Kuronada, Commander of the Legion of Two Thousand, and in his care, the young pup has learned the ways of respect and honor.

“It is his wish, as well as that of all of us, that she remains at the side of the Divine Couple, a simple symbol of our fierce dedication to the Empire, so that it is known that the wavemen stand in defense of the Divine Land, always at the ready.”

Again, Seou postrated herself completely, and waited.

The corners of Setai’s mouth twitched at seeing the small figure in the basket. “Ever have the wavemen been a part of the Empire. Now, more than ever we can see that they too fight for the Empire we all love. Our thanks, Yotsu-san, and to all whom you represent.”

From a nearby table Hida Reiha almost spat out her sake from withholding the laughter from the Yotsu’s gift. She coughed a bit and regained her composure. She looked to her son, Ren who was quietly playing with his food.

“Ren, no. Do not do that. Look, see the…puppy.”

“Puppy!!!” Ren yelled excitedly. Reiha was slightly embarrassed and composed her son. Reiha did her best to control the awkward moment.

The gift had raised the general mood of the gathering from serene celebration to something slightly more giddy. It took a few minutes before the Mantis were ready to make their presentation.

Moshi Awako and Yoritomo Yoyonagi stepped forward for the Mantis delegation and Awako spoke first. “Divine One, through your Ascension you have brought the blessings of the Celestial Order upon Rokugan, and the blessings of Lord Jade bestowed on this very temple, there is no gift could rival its glory.” Awako motioned toward Mantis gathered near the pavilion and they prostrated themselves in unison. “Upon our arrival this morning twenty of our finest samurai took vows forsaking their place within the clan, swearing loyalty to this temple and its abbot. The Mantis grant to the Temple of the Jade Sun he surrounding lands, and shall see to its support and maintenance in perpetuity. Let the blessings of the Jade Sun shine brightly upon us all.”

Moshi Awako bowed to the Empress, holding her pose for several moments. As she rose she spoke once more. “On this most auspicious day, the Mantis offer the gift we find most worthy. The Temple of the Jade Sun.”

Setai nodded with the seriousness of the gift, in counterpoint to the last. “Indeed, let it be so,” Setai says. “Our thanks to the sons and daughters of Yoritomo for your finest of gifts.”

“If I may, Empress and consort,” Yoyonagi said as Awako withdrew, “the Mantis have one further gift as well, an offering of thanks for the tremendous honor of hosting this event, a wedding that shall be remembered for all time.” She gestured, and a young man bearing the Moshi mon stepped forward. “Although he could not attend, as his duties require that he ensures the islands are secure for this glorious event, my lord Naizen wishes to impart his most precious possession to the personage of the Empress and her consort.” Yoyonagi reached into the parcel the young man bore and withdrew a heavy kabuto. “This is the Helm of Thunder, crafted by the divine hand of the great Thunder Dragon, intended for use by the greatest of heroes. Surely there can be no greater hero than Setai-sama, hero of the War of Dark Fire. It is Naizen-sama’s greatest wish that you would accept this, from one warrior to another.”

Setai bowed his head respectfully. “It would be my great honor. Thank you.”

A small buzz of whispering shot through the pavilion and through it some missed the next person to approach the table. Mirumoto Mareshi did not.

Mirumoto Katsutoshi picked up the package he had been keeping near his seat at the table and rose. He moved slowly towards the table where the Empress and her procession were located, carrying a large no-dachi enclosed within a sword cover made of black cloth. He prostrated himself to show respect before standing. He addressed Lord Setai and Lord Satsu with a voice that is clear and easily heard, as he knows they will speak for the Empress. “If it would please the Daughter of Heaven, there is one more gift to be given, if she would deign to accept it.”

There was a gasp throughout as other attendees spotted him carrying a sword in front of the Empress. The majority of the Seppun Guards snapped slightly more to attention, if such a thing were possible, but Setai, Satsu, and Iweko remained calm. Setai’s eyes were questioning, but not aggressive.

Katsutoshi prostrated himself again, then stood and held the sword in both hands as he spoke so that everyone could hear. “Over a thousand years ago, one of the finest blades ever seen in Rokugan was crafted by Doji Yasurugi-sama. He gifted it to Hantei Genji-dono, The Shining Prince, the son of Lord Hantei-kami and the second emperor of Rokugan. This blade was wielded by Hantei Fujiwa-dono, the fifth emperor of Rokugan, who commanded the Imperial Legions alongside the Crab and was the first Emperor since Lord Hantei-kami to actually battle the denizens of the Dark Lord personally.

“The Crab Clan Thunder, Hida Yakamo-sama, protected this blade and defeated many enemies of the empire with it until it was lost during his capture by the foul Kuni Yori. It was thought lost forever until the children of Toku-sama, the Monkey Clan, discovered it in the Shinomen Forest and presented it to the kami, Lady Shinjo. Lady Shinjo, at the request of Lady Amaterasu-dono, tried to return it to the heavens along with the other ancestral swords in retribution for the death of Lord Onnotangu-dono, but it has made its way back to earth.

“Despite being in the hands of the foulest traitors to the Empire, it was lost to them and recovered by this most humble servant of the empire. Despite tremendous adversity and the loss of my friend, I have managed to return it to you, its rightful owner. Divine Empress, may this lowly servant present the blade of Doji Yasurugi. The blade of Hantei Genji, the Shining Prince. The blade of Hantei Fujiwa. May I present…Kunshu… the Ancestral Sword of the Hantei.”

At its name, Katsutoshi fell to his knees and removed the sword cover to reveal the black saya containing Kunshu. Its emerald handle contained the mon of the Hantei line and had several metal chrysanthemums woven into it. The saya was engraved with the name of its original owner, Hantei Genji, as well as symbols indicating it belongs to the Hantei line.

He held the sword up to The Empress as he bowed his head to look at the ground. “May the golden light of this ancestral blade shine for another thousand years to light the way for all of your humble servants.” He fell silent and continued to hold the blade up while kneeling, head looking down to the ground.

As Katsutoshi spoke, Setai’s eyes widened ever so slightly. Both Satsu and Setai looked to the Empress for her wisdom in accepting such a gift. The Empress seemed to glance at the two men whose faces become instantly clear. “Such a thing is no gift, Mirumoto-san.” Setai started. “It is far more than that. Many gifts have been given today. Gifts that remind us of the past. Gifts that give hope for the future. Gifts that will help us see with clarity in the now. All were gifts appropriate to the clan giving them, and welcome indeed. This is no gift. This is a direct link to our past as an Empire. A time when we were whole, and of one purpose. We must be that again if we are to face the threat to our Empire, because together we are stronger. And no other item, no gift, could underline that need more than the Ancestral Blade of the Hantei. Thank you for returning it to its rightful home, Mirumoto-san. Your name in this act will not be forgotten.”

Katsutoshi rose slowly once Setai took the Ancestral Sword of the Hantei. He bowed deeply and stepped backward several times before returning to where he was sitting before. His face beamed with the radiance of the sun as he looked on his fellow samurai.

* * * * *

Setai turned the sword called Eight Truths over in his hands. Crafted as it was, representing the joint efforts of the great clans, it was likely the most symbolic of the gifts presented, and unlike the other sword offered, it was one he was willing to touch.

 “So what of Miya’s Blessing?”

Satsu, the Voice of Setai’s wife and Empress, stepped forward. “It was quite interesting, Lord Consort. First the Miya chose to split the blessing to three clans – the Phoenix, Dragon and Crab.”

Setai’s eyebrows raised. “All those clans need the aid, but can the Miya give enough to each?”

“Unknown, but that was not all. After the announcement, Hiruma Todori claimed that the Crab wished the aid to go to the Unicorn instead. It seems that they are housing Crab refugees from the advance of the Destroyers and wish to return that largesse. Oddly, prior to this, the Unicorn had withdrawn themselves from consideration in order to ensure that the Crab got the aid they needed.”

Now Setai showed real surprise. “The Crab are more concerned with their refugees than their battlefront? That seems unlike them.”

Satsu said nothing.

“And now, what of Katsutoshi?”

Satsu frowned. “He is being brought now.”

Setai took notice of Satsu’s expression and said, “You do not agree with the Empress’ decision?”

“It is not my place to agree or disagree, Lord Consort. I simply enact her will.”

Setai smirked mirthlessly. “Nevertheless…”

Satsu shook his head. “Not at all. I will simply ensure that he is watched after this. He brought a tainted item as a gift to the Empress. Whether it was the Sword of the Hantei does not change that fact.”

“But the Seppun worked with the Phoenix to confirm that he had no way of knowing that. He also gained none of the taint, as he was unable to draw the blade. No harm was done.”

Satsu stayed silent again.

“The only real harm is to his reputation. It was clear that he wished to gain glory and prestige from his gift, instead the Empire looks at him a little differently.”

Satsu nodded. “I am certain that his daimyo and champion will keep him on a shorter lead from this moment on.”

“Good. Now go and put the fear of the Voice in him so the three of us can get back to discussing the state of the war.”

Satsu nodded. “As you say, Setai-sama. The punishment of Katsutoshi is hardly the most important issue facing the Empress at this time.”

Discuss the events of this fiction in our Story Forum!

Storms of War

By Brian Yoon

Edited by Fred Wan

            “It figures,” Tsuruchi Gosho growled as he stood on the deck of the Unknown Path. The downpour pounded on the ship without mercy. He swiped a hand over his head – a rather useless gesture as the water seemed never ending, but the small measure of control was comforting. “My first tour with the southern defense would be absolutely, without a doubt, miserable.”

            He shook his head. It was the strongest storm he had ever seen. It seemed abnormally heavy to him, but he was not yet accustomed to deep sea patrolling to be certain. It was his first time in five years to venture out into the open sea, where he could not spot the land from the deck. He was a pure Mantis and the rocking of a boat at sea was usually a comfortable feeling. However, the crashes of this violent storm had shattered his dreams and brought him to the deck in the middle of a nightmare. Of course, none of the others in the bunk had seemed affected. He cursed them under his breath. He grabbed the bottle by his side and opened its cork. The sake inside was worse for the rainwater that constantly fell into the bottle, but Gosho figured it was better than nothing.

            “I have heard the captain is a lenient man, but even he must object to a violation as significant as yours, Gosho-san,” Moshi Kamiya said. Gosho took another swig from his bottle before giving the shugenja an appreciative glance. Despite the torrent, the young woman was dressed in loose green robes that left much of her chest and arms bare. It was a popular style in the Islands of Spice and Silk and Gosho certainly enjoyed the sight, but it seemed ineffective in keeping the shugenja warm. Despite her garb, she seemed to bear the cold and the rain with equal indifference.

            As the pause grew longer, Kamiya frowned and stepped closer to the Tsuruchi. “Drinking on duty can subject you to harsh punishment. I think only of the ship’s ability to function, were it to lose an able bodied sailor such as yourself.”

            Gosho drank deeply once more before replying. “But I am not on duty, Kamiya-chan. I will stand watch during the night but the infernal rocking of the boat woke me early. I hope the storm passes or I won’t be able to see anything at all during my shift.”

            Kamiya stared up into the sky as if she had only just noticed the torrential weather. “We are nearing the crescendo,” she said. “Our ship will continue within the storm’s grasp until the kami decide to dance apart, ceasing their lovely courtship.”

            Gosho grimaced. Shugenja. “‘Lovely,’” he spat. He looked around the ship and watched the sailors struggle to keep the ship from capsizing. Large waves constantly struck the ship and spilt gallons of saltwater aboard the deck. Gosho grabbed a hold of netting and endured through a large wave that threatened to carry him overboard. When it passed, he grinned at Kamiya. “I have to ask, Kamiya-chan. Aren’t you cold?”

            She looked down at her drenched kimono and shook her head. “Not at all.”

            “I suppose you’ll tell me it’s something about the beauty of the elements, and nature, and all sorts of nonsense,” Gosho said scornfully. “Sometimes you shugenja are entirely too unrealistic.”

            “It’s not the kami, Gosho-san. It’s… her,” Kamiya replied. Gosho blinked at the hint of reverence that had crept into her voice. “After I bonded with her, I can feel her heartbeat with every part of her being. Her presence warms my soul, no matter what may affect my body.”

            “I’ll take your word for-” Gosho said and stopped midsentence. He squinted and pointed. “Is that a gaijin ship?”

            Kamiya followed the finger and shook her head. “I cannot see anything but the rain, Gosho-san. Are you certain?”

            “I need to tell the captain,” Gosho growled. He immediately burst out into a run toward the mast. A loud roar of water and wind swept across the ship and flung Gosho to the deck. He scrambled to grab something, anything – and a firm grip caught his shoulder and anchored him to the ship. The water receded and Gosho looked up to see Kamiya’s serene face.

            “We shall go together,” Kamiya said.

            Traveling across the boat was much easier with the weight of two to fight against the raging storm. Gosho searched each sailor’s face as they rushed about on their duties and finally spotted the first mate of the ship.

            “Fushou-sama! Enemy off starboard bow!” Gosho yelled over the din of the storm.

            Yoritomo Fushou looked in the direction and shook his head. “I don’t see anything, sailor. The spotter on watch has seen nothing. Are you certain?”
            “Of course I’m certain! That’s my job!” Gosho replied in a rush. When Fushou turned to face him, Gosho paled and bowed. “There is a gaijin warship within three hundred yards of us. It’s coming closer, Fushou-sama. Very fast.”

            “Then the ship must be ready. Enemy approaching!” Fushou bellowed. “Prepare for battle!”

            The ship burst out into action as the Mantis stopped their actions and ran for their weapons. Gosho hooked his foot through a rope strapped to the deck for support and began to string his bow. A predatory grin crossed his mouth. He had felt out of place in the tempest, but he was at home in the heart of battle. He slung the bow on his back and began to climb the mast to the crow’s nest.

            Kamiya bowed to Fushou. “With your leave, Fushou-sama, I will rouse my sister. She would not want to miss a battle.”

            Fushou raised his hand to stall her disappearance. “One moment, Kamiya-san,” Fushou replied. “Can you commune with the air kami and notify the other ships in the fleet? We may need help against the enemy, especially if they carry a hold of their demons.”

            “Of course, Fushou-sama,” Kamiya replied. She knelt onto the deck and closed her eyes. Her mouth moved without making any noise as she prayed to the kami. Fushou waited patiently by her side and braced himself against the furious waves. Finally, Kamiya opened her eyes and looked up at the first mate.

            “I am sorry, Fushou-sama,” Kamiya said. “The water kami are frenzied by an otherworldly presence nearby. Their panic is making communication with the air kami impossible.”

            “So we are on our own. Perfect!” Yoritomo Buntaro’s booming voice called out. “We shall have all the glory.”

            Fushou and Kamiya bowed immediately as the captain swaggered onto the deck. Buntaro seemed cheerful as ever and ready for combat. Kamiya nodded as her sister Moshi Chuuna appeared on the deck from the other side, looking refreshed and happy at the prospect of a good fight. She made her way through the ruckus of the deck with the grace of a dancer performing in front of the Imperial Court.

            “So what has invoked our readiness, Fushou-san?” Buntaro asked.

            “One of our scouts has spotted the enemy, Buntaro-sama, but we are not sure. The rain is making it impossible to see it with my eyes.”

            “My sister can clear that problem, my lords,” Kamiya said. “Chuuna has a talent in talking to the water and charming it under her command.”

            “I shall ask the storm to stand aside, Buntaro-sama,” Chuuna said.

            “Do it, girl,” Buntaro ordered. Chuuna knelt and unfurled a scroll in front of her.

            Gosho swung himself onto the top of the crow’s nest and peered out onto the waters. The storm seemed worse at the top of the ship. Still, the world felt different with his bow in his hands. He lightly touched the feathers in his arrow and searched the waters for his target. He smiled grimly, drew, and fired. Before he could see the arrow meet its target, he drew and fired once more.

            The storm began to draw back like curtains unveiling center stage. The gaijin ship was less than fifty yards away and bearing fast onto the Unknown Path. A Destroyer demon stood at the bow of its ship and roared in defiance. Its roar was cut short as Gosho’s arrow fell from the sky and lodged itself in the demon’s eye. Another Destroyer at the front of the raiding party fell over immediately after with an arrow in its throat.

            Buntaro laughed. “Our intrepid scout has shown us the way! Mantis, let us follow his lead!” Everyone cheered.

            Kamiya raised her hands, palms up, to the sky. Her eyes glowed bright blue and her hands tingled with energy. “Your continued attempts to cross onto Rokugan will fail, demons,” she said, her voice echoing with power. “Who are you to step onto our soil, where gods have lived and died?”

            “We shall show them, sister,” Chuuna said, rising to her feet beside Kamiya. Her eyes began to glow with the same power that now filled her sister. “We shall show them the strength of our bond with the Thunder Dragon.”

            The Unknown Path crashed into the Ivory Kingdoms ship. Mantis sailors bellowed at the top of their lungs, and the skies exploded with lightning.

* * * * *

            Another demon roared in the distance, and Matsu Mari could not help but flinch. She considered herself a brave warrior, but this campaign had proven to her that she was clearly beyond her capabilities in the south. She faced flaming servants of the Dark Oracle in the previous war, and the experience simply did not compare to fighting at the southern line. The Destroyers held no concept of honor, but this was nothing new; after all, few Clans held themselves to the high standards of Lion honor. The problem lay in the fact that the Destroyers and Shadowlands creatures did not seem to hold themselves to the laws of reality. She had seen one impossible thing after another, and it was tiring to her mental health. Quietly, Mari gave a snort of exasperation and made a promise to herself. When this was all over, she would return home and perform deeds where she would be safe against these horrors. She would accomplish something simple, like singlehandedly facing a ravenous gaijin horde or finding a trustworthy Scorpion.

            Her snort had seemed nearly inaudible to her own ears, but her companion span in place and fixed her with a sharp glare. Hiruma Etsuro knelt and crawled his way to the Lion. Mari still marveled at how the young Etsuro never seemed to make a sound, though he passed through some thick shrubs along the way to her. Her colleagues had informed her that he was one of the Hiruma family daimyo’s prized students and it showed in Etsuro’s every movement. It was just as apparent that the Hiruma family did not seem to prize any sense of humor or zest for life, because Etsuro was the dullest man she’d ever met.

            Etsuro continued toward her at a steady pace and stopped uncomfortably close to Mari. She forced herself to ignore the breach in etiquette – her sisters were not here, but if they ever heard of the event she knew they would mock her mercilessly. Etsuro leaned in and whispered, merely inches away from her ear.

            “Be cautious, Mari-san,” Etsuro said. “There’s a patrol of Destroyers only three hundred yards to our west. It would not do to attract their attention.”

            Mari hadn’t even seen the demons but didn’t doubt the dour young man’s word. “Can these… things hear us?” Mari whispered back.

            Etsuro’s stare did not move from her eyes as he responded. It was more than a bit unsettling. “I do not know,” he admitted, his voice never louder than the faintest undertone. “Mari-san, assume that everything can exploit every weakness you show in the Shadowlands. That is how the Hiruma survive.”

            Mari nodded slowly. “Have the Hiruma learned much from their vigil at the castle?”

            Etsuro looked at the scroll case by his side. “We’ve written everything we have observed in these scrolls. It is my duty to place these in Hida Reiha-sama’s hands. We will succeed if you follow my every instruction. Now be quiet and follow me, Mari-san.”

            Etsuro turned away as soon as the last words left his mouth. He knelt to the ground and began to crawl toward the eastern beach. Mari idly fingered the grip of her trident and wished she could simply skewer her problems away. She swung her weapon to her back and crawled behind the Hiruma. Once again she regretted the insane impulse that had pushed her to volunteer for the duty. She had joined a group of veteran Hiruma scouts and battle hardened Lion warriors nearly two weeks ago. They crossed enemy lines and slowly traveled across the Shadowlands. Their aim was not to cripple the enemy but to reestablish contact with Kyuden Hiruma. Those who survived the trek now remained at the castle to help bolster defenses, while she and Etsuro slowly made their way back to the front lines. The idea seemed more like sheer insanity the longer she dwelt on it.

            They continued their silent journey for what seemed like hours. Each passing hour seemed to crawl along slower than their current pace. To Mari, not knowing the destination (or even the path) made it worse. Etsuro seemed to stop at random moments to survey the area. He made abrupt turns for no reason Mari could understand. Mari knew that their path kept them close to the coast, but that was all she could decipher. Worst yet, he seemed perfectly suited to maintaining the maddening silence. The only reason she could remain quiet herself was her stubborn desire to show the Hiruma she could do it.

            Etsuro unexpectedly paused in his tracks once more and his head turned to the west. Mari looked in the same direction but could see nothing. Etsuro moved closer to the Lion, tapped her on her right shoulder and pointed to the eastern coast. She flinched at the unexpected physical contact then looked as he directed. To her surprise, she could see a Mantis boat sailing closer to the shore.

            “There’s our way out,” Etsuro whispered. “The captain will only stop for one minute. Get ready to run to the shore immediately when I head out. There’s another group of Destroyers nearby. Be careful.”

            “Wait,” Mari hissed back. The anger in her voice gave Etsuro pause. “You had this planned all along? Why didn’t you let me know?”
            Etsuro’s expression did not change. “Our superiors put me in charge of this mission, Mari-san. All you needed to do was trust me to get you out. I didn’t know you would have a problem with it. After all, Lion samurai are used to following orders, are they not?”
            “Yes, but—” Mari whispered.

            Etsuro turned away as if the conversation held no more interest for him. He crouched lightly on his feet and watched both the patrol and the ship with equal intensity. Mari watched the Hiruma for her cue to move. Even then Etsuro’s sudden jolt toward the beach came as a surprise – the man was still one moment and running the next. Mari cursed under her breath and ran after the Hiruma.

            They reached the beach mere seconds after the ship. A single Mantis stood at its head. The man scowled at them as they drew near, but reached out a hand to help them on board.

            “You’re late this week, Etsuro,” the Mantis said.

            The Hiruma bowed. “I apologize, Iwata-sama, but the plans have changed.”

            Yoritomo Iwata looked at the Lion girl and nodded. “I can see that. Shall I stow the supplies below?”

            “Yes,” Etsuro said. “I need safe transport back to the Crab Champion. I carry important papers that must find way to her hands.”

            Iwata snorted. “If you think what I do is safe, Etsuro, you don’t understand what I’ve been risking on your behalf.”

            “Excuse me,” Mari interjected. “You’re a Mantis, and you’re carrying supplies for the Hiruma?”

            Iwata stared at her with a glare that clearly said ‘well done, you’ve puzzled out the obvious.’ Mari ignored it for one moment and turned to Etsuro.

            “Why didn’t we know of this arrangement? Benjiro-sama told us nothing of a Mantis ship supplying the Hiruma.”

            The ship rocked as it began to pull back out to the open sea. Mari barely caught her balance and continued to glare at the Hiruma. Etsuro, of course, didn’t look affected by the movement at all.

            “I don’t know if the Crab Clan Champion knows of the arrangement,” Etsuro answered. “It’s one of the items that must come to her attention. It’s written here in one of these scrolls.”

            “Good,” Iwata growled. “I expect to be well compensated for my troubles. I won’t get paid if the Champion doesn’t know about it.”

            The Mantis walked away, shouting orders to his crewmen. Mari stared at his retreating back as thoughts tumbled around in her mind. “If Reiha-sama doesn’t know of the Mantis, how did you ever arrange it?”

            “He sailed along the coast for a few week, risking exposure to the Destroyers, before he caught the attention of one of our scouts,” Etsuro answered quietly. There was no more need for silence, but it seemed to have been trained into every part of his life. “He doesn’t speak much about himself, but it’s clear he’s not doing this for the money. He knew we’d need the supplies and he made sure we’d get it.”

            “An altruistic Mantis?” Mari mused out loud as the ship took on speed and the Shadowlands began to shrink into the horizon. “Surely I have seen it all…”

* * * * *

            “We need to retreat,” Horiuchi Nobane said. “We will all die here if we dally any longer.”

            “We need more time,” Hida Otoya replied. He gestured to the hundreds of scrolls piled against the wall. “Shiro Kuni served as the center of Crab Clan’s defenses. Tacticians planned here for centuries and compiled years of knowledge here. There’s hundreds of unique spell scrolls cached in underground chambers that can’t be found anywhere else. If we retreat, the Destroyers will burn this place to the ground.”

            “Whatever your reservations, Otoya-san, we cannot stay here,” Shiba Rae said. He placed his elbow on his kabuto, placed on the table, and leaned against it. “Our arrival seems to have slowed down their advance, but they are becoming accustomed to our unique tactics. It’s only a matter of time until the continued assault grinds us down to nothing.”

            His gunso, Shiba Raiden, glanced at him but said nothing.

            Mirumoto Takehiro nodded. “We’re losing men faster than expected. We didn’t have time to gather more under our banner, as we understood that time was of the essence during our arrival.”

            “Unfortunately, the matter is out of my hands,” Otoya said, not budging from his seat. “You may not be aware of my history, but I was not born a Crab. I serve them because of an oath, but the truth remains that I was once an outsider. I am as loyal as the next Crab but I must show my devotion with deeds, not words. The Crab Clan Champion gave me explicit orders to save the knowledge maintained within these walls. I will die before I disobey them.”

            Nobane paced. “Your adherence to your word is wonderful, Otoya-san, and please do not misunderstand my next words. You and your men will die if you stay here. Dead men cannot follow orders.”

            “Such is bushido,” Takehiro said. He rubbed his chin and stared out into the distance. “There must be a way to solve this in a manner that will satisfy everyone.”

            “I believe there might be a Phoenix solution to this, my lords,” an aide dressed in the colors of the Phoenix said from the back of the room. The commanders turned to face the young girl. She bowed deeply and stepped forward.

            “I am Isawa Yutako and I have been training to join the Tsunami Legion,” she said. “There are many of us who excel in speaking with the water kami. If we are given permission, we will help transport the scrolls from this place to a place of safe keeping in the north. We can save the knowledge and all the men who would die in a futile defense.”

            “A place of safe keeping?” Otoya echoed. “Would this place be under Phoenix control?”

            Yutako hesitated for one brief moment before nodding. “Yes.”

            Otoya shook his head. “No. These documents are secret to the Crab and cannot be viewed by other Clans. Many of them are written in cipher, but with enough time you would be able to unravel its mysteries. It would be a violation of my orders.”

            Nobane turned to Rae. “Can you swear upon your honor that the Phoenix will not open these scrolls?”

            Rae frowned. “The Phoenix Clan is the Clan of knowledge, friends. We would not abuse any of the information found in those scrolls, and increasing our libraries could only benefit Rokugan. Perhaps you can see it as a cost of our aid, Otoya-san. Would you prefer you die here, your knowledge forever lost, or share it with fellow Rokugani? When the Army of Dark Fire stampeded down the northern mountains over the Phoenix lands, we knew our duty. We asked Crab and Scorpion samurai to help take valuable scrolls and artifacts away from the dangerous zones to safeguard for posterity. I ask that you show such selfless devotion to our empire.”

            “You will not gain control of those scrolls,” Otoya growled.

            “My lords,” Takehiro interrupted, “this is a matter of life and death. Relent, Rae-san, and we can walk away from this alive. The Dragon forces will not leave their Crab brethren to die alone, and if you will not give your word you will be condemning Dragon and Crab to die.”

            “It would not please the commander of my armies, Yu Pan-sama,” Nobane added, “but I will not leave our allies to die as well. Please, Rae-san.”

            Rae turned to look at each of the commanders’ faces in turn. Finally, he turned to Yutako. “Begin your preparations, Yutako-san. I give my word the Phoenix will not touch those scrolls. The Legion of Flame will postpone the next attack for as long as we require.”

            Otoya stood from his seat. “Everything left of the Crab forces will be by your side, Rae-san. Thank you.”

            “I cannot follow the call of knowledge when lives are at stake,” Rae replied as he left the room. “I only hope that our selfless actions will urge you to serve the good of the empire in the future. The Phoenix will preserve the safety of the empire if only we work and stand together.”

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Scenes from the Empire

By Brian Yoon, Rusty Priske, and Shawn Carman

Edited by Fred Wan

            The corpse was half hidden under the charred remains of the cottage, but the broken red mask caught the glint of the moonlight and revealed its trophy below. Bayushi Hikoko, holding a silken handkerchief over his nose, moved over to the broken home and gestured to his companion. The servant stepped forward and began to sift through the wreckage with slight hesitation. His vigorous efforts quickly exposed the gruesome remains. The corpse had been left to burn under the cottage. Nothing remained but charred bones and half a mask, but Hikoko knew he had finally found the missing patrol.

            “Interesting,” Hikoko murmured. “That mask is unmistakable, but I must be completely sure. The plague was not reported in this town. Continue your search.”

            His investigator bowed and continued to sift through the material without complaint. Hikoko turned away, his brow furrowed in thought. The Scorpion had not heard from Shosuro Tomoko and her patrol after their departure two months ago from the safety of Kyuden Bayushi. They were tasked to find the source of the plague that swept across the Scorpion’s lands. Everyone from that investigation – the villagers, the patrollers, and even the ronin hired to die – had completely disappeared, leaving Hikoko and dozens of others like him to puzzle out the truth. Perhaps he finally had a way to strike back at those responsible.

            “Your man looks repulsed, Hikoko-san. Did you finally find something?” Bayushi Minoru asked as he approached, his voice muffled under the demon mask that covered his entire face. The Bitter Lies swordsman was a recent addition to his retinue, one that Hikoko was not yet sure was beneficial. The man lived up to the sordid reputation of his school and seemed endlessly restless.

            “That mask belonged to Shosuro Tomoko,” Hikoko answered.
            “Here, of all places. This is more than fifty miles from where you expected her to be. What could have possibly brought her here?” Minoru mused. He placed a hand under his chin and slowly stroked it.

            “Absolutely nothing,” Hikoko said. “There’s nothing that would bring the Scorpion patrol here. Perhaps they were ambushed then dragged to the current position.”

            Minoru stood completely still as the thoughts raced through his mind. When he spoke, his voice came out as a deep growl. “If what you say is true, magistrate, it would mean someone is deliberately trying to cause trouble for the Scorpion Clan. We would have an enemy.”

            Hikoko snorted. “I think they proved that when they murdered our men, Minoru-san.”

            Minoru turned away from Hikoko and stared into the distance. “Our enemy seems to have succeeded,” he said. Hikoko followed his gaze and spotted the horsemen bearing Crane banners.

            Hikoko gestured to his servant with two fingers and spread his hands out in a non-threatening gesture. “Remain calm, Minoru, and follow my lead.” Minoru’s soft snort was not a reassuring answer, but Hikoko’s attention was fixed on the approaching Crane patrol. They were armed, some with bows and some with swords, but all seemed attentive and ready for a fight.

            The young woman in charge seemed barely old enough for the responsibility. Her armor was impeccably clean and eminently fashionable. She dismounted from her horse with ease and sauntered over to the waiting group. She stared at each Scorpion in turn before finally stopping in front of Hikoko. Hikoko smiled.

            “This village is well within Crane borders, Bayushi-san,” the woman said. “Your presence is unwelcome, especially at such a delicate time.”

            “My name is Hikoko, magistrate of the Bayushi family,” Hikoko answered. “Who do I have the pleasure of addressing?”

            The woman bowed slightly before replying. “My name is Doji Shikana, and my patrol is responsible for this area. So I ask again, what are you doing here?”

            “I am investigating a murder that occurred a month ago. My trail has led me here,” Hikoko said. He pointed at the destroyed hut as evidence. Shikana turned and followed his gesture to the broken building.

            One of Shikana’s followers, still on horseback, laughed. “A likely story,” he said, scorn dripping from each word. “A simpler answer would be that they are here to hide a murder. They might have torched the building themselves.”

            “Tensan, please,” Shikana said calmly. She examined the wreckage in silence.

            Hikoko gestured toward the building. “I found the unfortunate woman’s mask under the wreckage. As you can see, the building has been in this state of disrepair for a long time.”

            “I am surprised the Crane would allow such ugliness to remain in their lands unattended for so long,” Minoru said.

            Hikoko raised a hand in a placating manner. “I did not intend to intrude onto your provinces, Shikana-san. In my eagerness to pursue justice, I did not realize we had crossed borders. I hope you can understand my position.”

            It was a lie, but one that was easy to accept. Shikana looked into Hikoko’s eyes, as if she were trying to see directly into the truth.

            “Your man is pale and shaky,” Tensan suddenly said. “He looks like he’s been infected with the plague!”

            Instantly the mood changed. Shikana took a quick step backwards and glared at Hikoko’s servant. Under the attention, the eta turned paler with fright.

            “No, he is not,” Hikoko replied quickly. “He is simply my—”

            “They plan on spreading that cursed disease deeper into Crane lands! Shikana-san, this act cannot go unanswered!” Tensan continued.

            “Did this murdered woman have anything to do with the plague, Hikoko-san?” Shikana demanded.

            The lie came easily to his lips. “No,” Hikoko answered.

            “He lies!” Tensan shrieked. His hand flashed down to the sword at his side.

            That was all the impetus Bayushi Minoru needed. The Bitter Lies swordsman howled at the top of his lungs and leapt forward into the Crane patrol. The sound of steel leaving scabbards filled the air.

            The situation was now beyond words, and there was nothing Hikoko could do but join the skirmish.

* * * * *

            The Hiruma scout stood on the balls of his feet, carefully shifting his weight in time with the swaying of the deck as the kobune crested from one wave to the next. Balancing was an instinctual act, one that he paid no attention to. His attention was focused on the horizon, and he squinted against the glare to make out the details in the distance. The others on deck looked at him curiously, then stared vacantly at the horizon and shook their heads in wonder. The scout paid them no mind. Finally, after several moments of intense scrutiny, he turned and crossed the deck before disappearing into the hold below.

            “Another Mantis ship interdicted, my lady,” he reported with a quick bow. “The ship in question flies both the Scorpion and Imperial colors.”

            Hida Reiha nodded curtly and dismissed the scout. “The Emerald Champion is quite busy, it seems,” she observed. She glanced across the hold at her guests, frowning slightly. “Are you absolutely certain that there is not information you have withheld from me, Treasurer?”

            “I am quite certain, yes,” Yoritomo Utemaro said, never stopping his hurried writing. “And if I were not, I probably would not mention it.” He glanced up for a moment. “I believe you are being adequately compensated for your trouble, Lady Hida. Do you have further reservations?”

            “My reservation is that the Crab Clan has enough plaguing it without adding the wrath of the Emerald Champion to the affair,” Reiha said. “Although, if I am to be completely honest, the nature of your… associates, also troubles me somewhat.”

            Utemaro sighed heavily and set his brush down. “I believe we discussed this prior to our departure, Lady Hida.”

            “We did,” she confirmed. “Assuage my concerns and explain it again.”

            Utemaro forced a slight smile. “As you are doubtless aware,” he said with great patience, “during the Empress’ time in the islands, she availed herself of our clan’s rather unique expertise in the distant lands known as the Ivory Kingdoms. There are many among certain clans, your own included, who believe that the threat we face originates from there, and that in fact the Kingdoms may have declared war upon our own Empire.”

            “That theory does have some weight to it,” Reiha observed.

            “Be that as it may,” Utemaro said, raising a hand to forestall objections from the others within the cabin, “the Empress obviously found no fault with my associates, as you call them, and made ample use of their knowledge. Some of them, anyway. Now, we simply wish to transport them to the Imperial City so that, should the Empress so wish, she may have them at her disposal once more.”

            Reiha nodded absently as she surveyed the three individuals sitting within the cabin. “What say you, gaijin?” she finally asked. “Why does the Emerald Champion seek you out, if your counsel has been so valuable to the Empress?”

            Yoritomo Singh bowed his head slightly in respect. “I believe, Crab Champion, that he seeks to protect the Empress.”

            Reiha smirked slightly. “How so?”

            “There are some within the Empire, perhaps even many, who find association with individuals such as myself to be unclean,” the gaijin said. “He wishes to protect the Empress from losing face in the eyes of others. If he could find and ‘detain’ us, then he would be protecting her, if even from herself. Of all I have met, Shosuro Jimen alone has both the loyalty to the Empress and the self-importance for such an act.”

            Reiha chuckled slightly. “I suppose that is true enough. Jimen is a serpent, make no mistake about that. I would not be surprised if he felt he needed to protect the Empress from herself. Who would know better than he what is best for the Empire, after all?”

            “He is a man with a shadow for a heart,” the odd looking Rokugani woman sitting at Singh’s side said. “The only light within him is loyalty, and even that is stained. His being is full of blood and poison.”

            “That will be quite enough, Kekiesu,” Utemaro said. He smiled to Reiha, slightly apologetically. “Please forgive her. Her time in the Kingdoms appears to have made her somewhat, shall we say, morbid.”

            “So it would seem. And what of that one?” Reiha gestured to the foreign woman sitting demurely to Singh’s other side.

            “Arjuna is… I suppose you might call her a distant cousin, in your language,” Singh said. “As of yet she does not speak your beautiful language well, although she understands much of it.”

            The exotic looking young woman smiled and bowed respectfully to Reiha, who only looked at her quizzically. “Well enough, I suppose,” she finally said. “The Emerald Champion can hardly stop every vessel returning to the mainland. The Crab are among the last ones he would suspect of ferrying you around, I suppose.”

            “No, that would be the Dragon,” Utemaro said. “Which is why I made sure Jimen’s agents saw me speaking furtively to a Dragon a few days ago.”

            Reiha stared at Utemaro for a few moments. “Should I trust you any more than I would trust Jimen?”

            “Almost certainly not,” Utemaro answered at once. “Although I will say that I find your Yasuki family’s tax records delightfully entertaining.”

            Reiha scowled and made for the deck. Before she stepped up, she paused and glanced back over her shoulder. “If I had declined to transport you and your associates,” she asked, “what would have been the result?”

            “I would likely have suddenly remembered a horrific tax oversight your clan made in the winter of 448,” Utemaro answered. “How fortunate to leave such unpleasantness in the past, wouldn’t you agree?”

            Reiha made no effort to hide her snarl of distaste. “Imperials,” she growled, and strode above deck.

* * * * *

Things rarely slowed down in a port town, especially down on the docks. Between the sailors going to and from their ships, merchants trying to sell their cargo or sell supplies to the ship captains, and dockworkers loading and unloading, there was always movement and there were always crowds.

That made the passage of a single figure that much easier.

She moved amongst the din, unnoticed and unaccosted, with her hood pulled low around her eyes. She did not travel in a straight line, but neither did she meander. Her path took her to specific places where she could see a certain ship being loaded or a certain captain shouting orders over the tumult of the docks. She did not tarry at any spot too long and if there was a pattern in her observances, it was known only to her.

Eventually she stood on the dock next to a merchant ship called the Ocean’s Road. The ship flew no clan colors and bore the markings of a ronin craft, likely owned by a merchant of no serious wealth. It was weather beaten and its crew clearly cared little about the aesthetic of the craft, but it still looked sea-worthy. The signs that only an experienced sailor would notice showed that the crew knew their way around the deck of a ship.

She noticed other things as well.

“Excuse me.” The woman approached a man who was directing the flow of cargo onto the Ocean’s Road.

The sailor, rough in dress but clean in complexion, looked up at the previously unnoticed woman. “Yes?”

“I was wondering if you could take me to the captain of this vessel. I am looking to purchase passage to your next destination.”

The sailor’s eyebrow shot up. There were usually people on the docks looking for passage, but this woman had said the wrong thing. “And what would that destination be, since we have not posted that information anywhere?”

The woman said nothing. She just gazed at the sailor impassively.

“This is not a passenger ship. The captain does not take on tourists.”

“I assure you, that I am no tourist.”

The sailor snorted. “I do not care if you are Shinsei himself, barring an order from the Empress, the captain will not be allowing you aboard. so go find yourself another ship. We have work to do before we miss the tide.”

The woman said nothing for a moment and the sailor could not read her expression in the shadow of her hood. Finally she said, “Very well. I will leave you to your work.”

The sailor, Mago, watched her for a minute as she walked away from the Ocean’s Road. He considered the oddity of the woman for a moment before returning to his work. She had no reason to think the same of him as he had not told her anything that was untrue and there was much for him to do before they set sail.

The captain of the Ocean’s Road tossed the shipping manifests to the side of her desk. They did not truly concern her but they were still necessary. She looked up at her cargo master and nodded. “I assume that these manifests will hold up to scrutiny.”

Mago bowed his head. “Of course, Captain-sama. There is no indication that we are anything other than what we seem.”

“That is mostly true.”

Mago drew a long, jagged dagger from the sash around his waist as the captain moved into a defensive posture two feet to the right of her initial position. The voice came from a corner that sat in shadow just past the beams of sunshine that flowed through the portholes.

The stranger from the dock stepped into view.

“The signs are very slight and I believe it would only be the most highly trained who could see them. Your cargo master does not have quite the marks of wind on his skin that time on the sea brings. It is true that this could be the result of spending most of his time below decks. You aren’t the pilot, after all. On the other hand, your masking of the jade and other wards is nearly flawless. It would take a very close inspection to tell that the Ocean’s Road is actually a koutetsukan.”

Mago shot a glance towards his captain who said, “Apparently those efforts were in vain.”

“Oh, do not judge the efforts of your crew so harshly. The only reason I was able to spot the details is that I knew they were there. Otherwise I would have had no idea. But then,” the woman threw back her hood, “I had an advantage.”

The cargo master’s eyes grew wide though the captain expressed no shock. They both bowed quickly and the captain said, “Mirumoto Masae. It is my honor to welcome you aboard the Ocean’s Road.”

Masae returned the bow. “Your welcome is appreciated, Yogo Rieko. I will keep my presence aboard your ship known only to you and Bayushi Mago, if that is your wish.”

Rieko betrayed no emotion. “It is.”

“As I said, I was aware of the true nature of the Ocean’s Road, as well as the ship’s actual assignment, but there are a number of questions I still have, if you would oblige me.”

“I will answer what I am able. You understand that I am not privy to the thoughts of my superiors, nor will I divulge anything that could damage the Scorpion. I have great respect for both you and your position as Keeper of Air, but there are limits to my hospitality.”

Masae bowed slightly. “I appreciate your candor, Rieko-san, as well as your respect. I would never dream to put you in the awkward position of choosing between your loyalty to Rokugan and to the Scorpion.”

“There is no choice.”

“Of course.” Masae turned to Mago. “Do you wish Mago-san to stay for this conversation, captain?”

Mago glanced towards Rieko who said, “Considering what has already been said, I think it would be in my best interests for him to remain where he is. While I am certain that none would doubt my loyalty, the addition of a witness to that fact could never hurt one’s allegations.”

Masae’s mouth turned up a little at one corner. “Spoken like a true daughter of the times, Rieko-san. Now to my questions – let me start with a simple one. Kuni Daigo personally appointed you as a Jade Magistrate, Rieko-san. How is it that you can be captain of this ship, while still completing your duties?”

“My duties as a Jade Magistrate are currently suspended. Daigo-sama knows that I have duties to my clan that have taken my attention for the time. He has been assured that not only are these tasks temporary but they are in the pursuit of the larger goal of the Jade Champion and his magistrates – the protection of the empire from the corruption beyond.”

“So Kuni Daigo knows that you are sailing the Sea of Shadows?”

Rieko smirked slightly. “Ah, I had thought you knew everything about our mission, Keeper-sama, but it seems you do not. We do not sail the Sea of Shadows. That would be a violation of Imperial law, would it not? The Crab would never allow our passage.”

“So you certainly would not tell Kuni Daigo if that is where you were going.”

Rieko leveled her gaze at Masae. “As I said, Keeper-sama. Our orders are not to pierce the Sea of Shadows.”

Masae assessed the captain and then said, “I see. Then why a koutetsekan and why in secret? It took much planning to have the ship made and concealed while claiming to be independent merchants. You are risking the wrath of the Crab, which I am certain the Scorpion would not wish to raise again… to what end?”

“Do you have a question, Keeper-sama?”

Masae thought for a moment. “You are not entering the Sea of Shadows, but you are protected against the threat of the taint. The ship is traveling along the coast in the direction of the Otaku Route, but you insist – and I believe you – that you are not planning on entering. That leads me to believe that you are preparing for some threat to exit that route.”

Rieko nodded. “Congratulations, Masae-sama. Yes, we are to patrol the area. Watching.”

Masae thought for a moment more. “You do not believe that any force that could overwhelm the Stone Storm which patrols the Route would be something you could defeat. This ship is not outfitted for battle. It is designed to weather an assault and then escape. You are here to warn the Empire if something breaks through the Crab defenses.”

Rieko did not respond.

Masae continued, “This means that you suspect a threat, but do not feel that you can approach the Crab with your suspicions.”

Rieko shook her head. “We know of no threat other than what the Empire already faces.”

“Yet you are here. If you know of no specific threat then you monitor this area out of concern that its normal defenses are not sufficient. You feel that the Crab should not be trusted to…” Masae trailed off and then her eyebrows rose slightly. “I see. You feel the Crab have already failed to protect the Empire and cannot be trusted with the sole defense of the region, but you cannot voice those concerns. The Empress has absolved the Crab of any dishonor in their failure of duty, and to even mention it would be to go against her word. So you remain behind the cover of this charade.”

Rieko straightened her back. “Keeper-sama, I am prepared to state that this entire mission was conducted without the knowledge of my superiors in either my clan or among the Jade Magistrates. If there is any dishonor it is on me and me alone and I will request the privilege of seppuku if any of my betters express their displeasure over it.”

Masae looked at Rieko for a moment. She then looked at Mago, who remained an impassive observer, and then back at Rieko. “I did not come here to expose your ruse, Rieko-san. I came aboard your ship to judge your intentions and I have done so. I see your intentions as being both pure and noble. You seek only to protect. Whether that brings you into conflict with the Empress’ edict is for some other to decide. I make no such accusation.”

Rieko bowed to Masae but said nothing.

“In fact, Rieko-san, I have a gift for you. Since receiving the honor and burden of being the Keeper of Air, I have been writing a work on the nature of Air and how this ever-pervasive element rules every aspect of our existence and being. I would like you to have it, Rieko-san. I feel that it would serve you well and you would put its teachings to good use, both here and when you return to the Jade Magistrates.”

Rieko bowed deeply. “I am greatly honored, Keeper-sama. I am certain I will learn much from your experience and knowledge.”

Masae returned the bow. “I feel that the Empire has many lessons to learn and a very short time to learn them. I have to hope that the final lessons will not be at our expense.”

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