L5r - scroll 04 - The Phoenix

by Stephen D. Sullivan

  Kaede slipped a pair of sandals on her feet and crossed to the door of the room.

  The door was a paper fiisuma screen, brilliantly painted with pictures of birds, mountains, and waterfalls. Kaede admired it for a moment before sliding it open.

  Darkness reigned in the hall outside. In the distance, around a corner, a lantern burned, shedding pale light through its white paper panes. Kaede looked down the hall in both directions and was surprised when a figure stepped from the shadows.

  She almost retreated into her room before she realized who it was: Seppun Ishikawa, her friend and frequent companion. She smiled at him. A worried look played across his rugged face. He wore a blue kimono rather than his usual armor, as if he'd just gotten out of bed. He carried his daisho swords in his left hand. As one of the emperor's guardsmen, Ishikawa was in charge of security for this wing of the palace. His room was not far from Kaede's.

  "What's wrong?" he whispered to her.

  "Nothing," she replied. "Why did you think anything was wrong?"

  "I heard something," he said, concern still playing on his face. "It sounded like you were in trouble."

  Kaede smiled and put a hand to her full lips. "Honestly, Ishikawa," she said, trying not to laugh, "I sometimes think you'd come running if I sneezed."

  Ishikawa shifted uncomfortably. He tucked his swords into his obi and folded his arms across his broad chest.

  Seeing that she'd hurt him, Kaede reached out and gently touched his elbow. "I'm sorry," she said. "I had some trouble sleeping. I didn't mean to wake you."

  "All right," he said, almost touching her hand with his own.

  "I'm glad it was nothing more. Why don't we both go back to bed?"

  She felt the warmth of his hand, so close to hers. The perception sent a thrill up Kaede's spine, and some of the loneliness inside her slipped away. She shook her head. "No," she said. "I'd rather walk right now."

  "In the middle of the night?" Ishikawa said skeptically.

  She nodded. "Yes. Just for a bit."

  "Then I'll walk with you," he said. He withdrew his hand and looked around. "Where are we going?"

  "Nowhere. Everywhere."

  Ishikawa chuckled, a low, pleasant sound like surf on a distant beach. "Are we walking into the Void, then?" he asked.

  "We are always walking in the Void," Kaede replied.

  Ishikawa laughed again. "Serves me right for trying to match words with the Mistress of the Void." He pointed down the corridor past his room.

  She nodded her assent, and they walked quietly together, close, but not touching. They headed toward the center of the great palace, passing sentries as they went. At first, the guards seemed nervous to see anyone walking so late at night. They settled down, though, when they recognized Ishikawa.

  After a time, Ishikawa said, "Why did you have trouble sleeping? Bad dreams?"

  Kaede nodded and looked up at him. "I don't remember the dream exactly—just shadows and dark omens. I think my father may have been there, too."

  Ishikawa stopped walking and looked at her. His gaze flitted over her body, taking in her figure, the darkness of her skin, her flowing ebony hair, and her deep black eyes.

  Kaede realized suddenly that her kimono hadn't closed correctly below her neck. Did Ishikawa notice the skin revealed there? The uneasiness in his eyes told her that he did. The line of his mouth hardened, but he did not turn away. Kaede calmed her mind; not allowing herself to blush. She reached up and gently adjusted the robe.

  "You don't talk about your father much since he lost his name," Ishikawa said uncomfortably.

  Kaede sighed. "That is why his name was taken from him— so he would be harder to think, and speak, of." She indicated with her hand that they should resume walking.

  "Do you have such dreams often?" he asked, pointedly looking away from her and concentrating on their surroundings. Huge oak pillars supported the ceilings high overhead. Hardwood floors whispered quietly beneath their feet.

  "Not often," she said quietly. "Only twice before. The first lime was two years ago during the purge—before Kachiko convinced her celestial husband to stop slaying her former clansmen."

  "Bad advice," Ishikawa said, frowning. "They should have wiped the Scorpion from the face of Rokugan. Liars and murderers, every one of them. I understand, though, why the emperor listened to her. It's hard to refuse Kachiko anything."

  "Yes," Kaede said, glancing at him, "I'm sure it is. The second time I had the dream was last summer, before that terrible plague outbreak in Shiro no Yojin. And now, again."

  "What do you make of it?" Ishikawa asked.

  Kaede put the fingers of her left hand to her lips and traced the contours of her mouth in thought. "I'm not sure," she finally said. "The portents are difficult to read. It feels as though someone has trod on the soul of the empire."

  "Who could do that?" he asked.

  "I don't know," she said, shaking her head.

  Ishikawa grunted. "I know you're sensitive to such things," he said, "but sometimes a dream is just a dream."

  "I pray to the Fortunes you are right," she replied.

  They were passing very near to the imperial wing now. The guards grew more frequent, though none challenged them. It would have been impolite to observe a high-ranking man and maiden out for a late walk.

  As they passed a deserted stretch of corridor, Kaede noticed someone moving across the hallway and into a secret panel. The clarity of the Void was still with her, and she recognized Kachiko, the young emperor's wife. The empress moved like a cat, quickly and quietly. Almost before Kaede could register her presence, she was gone.

  "Now where do you suppose she's going at this time of night?" Kaede asked thoughtfully.

  "Who?" Ishikawa replied.

  "The empress."

  Ishikawa peered intently down the long dark corridor.

  "I don't see her," he said. "I can hardly see my hand in front of my face. You're sure it was her?"

  "Positive."

  "You have the eyes of an owl," Ishikawa said admiringly.

  Kaede nodded, fighting down a blush. "Sometimes."

  "Did Kachiko see you?" he asked.

  "I doubt it," she replied. "Whatever else her powers may be, Kachiko doesn't have Void-enhanced sight."

  "A good thing, too," Ishikawa said. "She probably wouldn't be pleased to have us witnessing her assignations—whatever they may be. I doubt she's gone to collect moonbeams to remedy the emperor's illness."

  "I doubt it, too," Kaede said. Her dark eyes flashed with inspiration.

  "What is it?" Ishikawa asked, a trace of worry drawing his brows together.

  "For months I've wanted to visit the emperor in private," Kaede said, "to see if I could cure him. Kachiko always cuts me off, though."

  "She's very protective of the boy," Ishikawa said.

  "Perhaps too protective," Kaede said.

  "You think she has something to do with his infirmity?" Ishikawa asked.

  Kaede shook her head. "I have no evidence to suspect anything. But what harm could it do for me to see the emperor?"

  Ishikawa shrugged. "None, I'd say."

  "Let's visit him now, then."

  "In the middle of the night?"

  Kaede gazed at him with her liquid eyes. "When will we have the chance again?"

  Ishikawa nodded and grumbled, "Never, likely. Kachiko is too careful. Too sly."

  "What else would you expect from the Mother of Scorpions?" "A sting in the back," Ishikawa replied. "Come on," he said, indicating a nearby corridor with a nod of his head. "This way is quickest."

  A short time later they came within sight of the Imperial Chambers. Heavily armed guards stood near the doors, brandishing yari spears.

  "If we were Kachiko," Ishikawa whispered, "we'd know a secret way in and out."

  "But we're not," Kaede whispered back. "Thank the Fortunes."

  Ishikawa walked boldly toward the guards. They barred the entryway to the imperial chambers. "Konban
wa," he said. "Good evening."

  "Konbanwa, Ishikawa-sama," they said, bowing low. They bowed to Kaede as well. To do less would have besmirched her honor, an offense punishable by execution.

  "How's the emperor this evening?" Ishikawa asked. "Is he well?"

  One of the four guards nodded. Another said, "So his most esteemed wife tells us."

  Ishikawa paused as if listening to something in the distance. "Mistress Kaede and I thought we heard coughing. Bad coughing. She has healing skill that can help."

  "We didn't hear anything," one guard said.

  "Are you sure?" Ishikawa asked. "Lady Kaede's ears are very sharp."

  "The Lady Kachiko is with him," another said.

  "Surely she would welcome my help," Kaede said.

  The guards shifted restlessly. "The empress left orders that she is not to be disturbed," one said.

  "We don't want to disturb her, either," Ishikawa said. "We just want to ease the emperor's suffering. I assumed you would as well."

  The lead samurai scratched his shoulder nervously. "We're all concerned, Ishikawa-sama," he said.

  "As well you should be. After all, your lives depend on it," the Seppun captain said with a smile.

  The guards smiled weakly at him and nodded.

  Ishikawa turned to Kaede. "Come on," he said, making as if to leave. "I'm sure these guards know their business better than we do. It's impossible that the emperor could be in any danger with such fine samurai watching over him."

  One of the men stepped forward. "If you want to check on the emperor, Ishikawa-sama..."

  "We would feel better...." added another.

  "And if you do not disturb the empress, how could she object?" said a third.

  Ishikawa turned back to the guards and bowed slightly. The guards bowed lower. They parted to allow Ishikawa and Kaede to pass. Ishikawa let Kaede go first. He handed his katana to the guards as he went, leaving his smaller sword, the wakizashi, tucked in his belt.

  The two of them walked down the short corridor leading to the emperor's chambers. In the past, the Hantei emperors had often moved their quarters about within the castle. That way, they could catch the best views, or the best light. The emperor would reside in the coolest rooms in the summer and the warmest in winter.

  Since he had taken ill, though, Hantei the 39th had stayed within this one room. The room lay buried deep within the castle and had no windows. Only this one corridor allowed access—though, obviously, Kachiko knew of a secret way out. The way stood open, its fiisuma panel slid back to admit some air. Coming within ten paces of the room, Ishikawa and Kaede both understood why.

  The air was stale and sour. Sickly sweet incense burned to mask the smell, but only made the air more cloying. Kaede put her sleeve over her mouth and nose.

  As the two approached, violent coughing echoed from the room. Cautiously, Kaede and Ishikawa stepped to the threshold.

  The room was dimly lit. Only two red paper lanterns scattered their wan light about the chamber. Imperial tatami mats, thick and lush, covered the wooden floor. Draped silks hung from many of the rafters, creating a gossamer curtain around the room's perimeter.

  A marvelous painting of Fudotaki, the capital city's great waterfall, covered the north wall of the room. Below it lay I lantei's bed, a thick futon and quilt, surrounded by smoldering incense burners.

  The young emperor lay on the bed, his face turned to the ceil-iug. His beautiful silk covers lay scattered on the dark wooden lloor. He wore a dark kimono, cut short for sleeping. Not yet past his twentieth birthday, Hantei looked aged beyond his years. His face was wan, his cheeks sunken. Dark rings surrounded his eyes. Sweat drenched his pale body.

  Ishikawa and Kaede bowed low when they entered the room. "Majesty," Ishikawa said. The two of them paused, embarrassed by the intimacy of the situation.

  The young emperor didn't reply. Another coughing fit wracked his thin frame.

  Sympathy welled up within Kaede's breast as she gazed at him. She stepped toward the gossamer curtains surrounding the body and drew them back. "I've come to help," she said quietly. She moved to the emperor's side and laid her right palm on his forehead.

  A spark flew from the emperor's head to her hand as she louched him. Kaede almost drew back, but steeled herself and placed her palm on his sweaty brow. She cleared her mind and concentrated. The healing magic of the Void flowed from her body to his.

  Hantei's neck twisted, and his eyes slitted open.

  "Kachiko?" the boy emperor asked sleepily. "Is that you?"

  "No," Kaede replied gently. "It's Isawa Kaede."

  "Why are you here?" he asked, his voice hoarse and weak.

  "Ishikawa and I heard your coughing," she said. "We came to help you." She felt something within him resisting her restorative magic.

  "I need no help," the emperor said, almost angrily. "Where is my wife?"

  "We do not know, your Majesty," Kaede said. Something in the boy's eyes made her shudder. She withdrew her hand from his head.

  "Go, then," the boy whispered. "Do not return unless I summon you."

  Ishikawa and Kaede bowed low. They turned and left quickly, pausing only long enough to reassure the guards and reclaim Ishikawa's sword.

  Kaede shook her head. "This sickness upon him is beyond my healing," she said. "Perhaps, with more study, I could try again. Knowledge cures all evil."

  "Perhaps," Ishikawa said. "I could use some fresh air. How about you?"

  Kaede nodded her agreement.

  They turned toward the gardens. Neither of them spoke as they trudged silently through the dark corridors.

  As they passed a side hallway, Kaede suddenly stopped.

  "What is it?" Ishikawa asked.

  "For a moment, I thought I saw my father," she said.

  "Where?"

  "At the end of that hall."

  Ishikawa peered into the gloom. "Well, if Ujina was in the corridor," he said, "he's not there now. Probably it was just a shadow, and the memory of your dream."

  "He's not Ujina any longer," Kaede said.

  "I know," Ishikawa replied. "My tongue is clumsy. I'm sorry."

  She nodded.

  They resumed walking. Soon the two of them stood on one of the castle's many sheltered verandas, looking out over the night-dark greenery. A summer breeze rustled through the garden, making the trees shake and the flowers dance. A few white rose petals wafted by, like kites on a blustery day.

  The wind was chilly for the season, and Kaede wrapped her kimono tighter around her body. For a time, neither she nor Ishikawa spoke. They just stood close together, inhaling the night breeze.

  Finally, Kaede said, "Did you see his eyes?"

  Ishikawa shook his head. "The emperor's? No. Why? What did you see?"

  "For a moment," she said, "when he looked at us, I would swear I saw fire inside his eyes."

  "A trick of the light," Ishikawa replied. "It's those damn red lanterns that Kachiko favors. They make everything look eerie."

  Kaede nodded. "Perhaps."

  Ishikawa looked at her longingly. He opened his mouth to speak, but then shut it again. His face grew stern.

  She wondered what he had been about to say. She knew what she hoped he would say—but such words had never passed between them. Perhaps they never would.

  A sudden flapping sound disturbed the breeze. Ishikawa drew his katana to defend the Void Mistress.

  "What is it?" she whispered.

  "A bat maybe," he said, "or an owl. Stay back." But as the words left his lips, they both saw what it was—a small bird winging its way through the darkness.

  "That's strange," said Ishikawa.

  Kaede shook her head. "It's a message from my people." The Mistress of the Void extended her hand, and the bird came down and perched on her outstretched finger.

  Ishikawa had never seen a bird like it before. It was small, about the size of a dove, but its plumage was brilliant orange, red, and gold. It had a soft tuft of yellow feathers on t
op of its head and a downy orange frill around its neck. Its eyes and lalons sparkled like pure gold. It made a small trilling sound as Kaede gazed at it.

  A thin golden cord bound a small scroll to the bird's right leg. Kaede took the note, unrolled it, and read. She frowned.

  Then she sighed and said, "I've been summoned to the Elemental Council."

  Ishikawa nodded. "I'll tell your servants to pack for the trip."

  SUMMON1NGS

  ^sawa Uona leaned her left hand on a rock and looked up. The wind whipped around her, blowing her black hair into her face and making the red and yellow birds on her white kimono flap their tiny silken wings.

  The mountain towered over her, not so tall now as it had been a short while ago. The summit remained just a brief climb away. Uona smiled; she loved the mountains almost as much as she loved the wind.

  Where else on Rokugan could one stand and touch the clouds? Where could one be closer to the wind and air? Where could one escape the everyday duties of court life, the intrigues, the romances, the boredom? Some in the Phoenix preferred the great libraries, but Uona preferred a secluded mountaintop.

  The wind found the crevasses in her kimono, but she didn't mind. The cold invigorated her skin rather than chilling it. She drew a deep breath in through her nose and exhaled it

  in a slow whistle through her mouth.

  Probing the mountain face with her fingers, she found a handhold and pulled herself up once, twice, three times. As she topped the ridge, the mountainside flattened out. After a difficult climb, the summit was only a pleasant walk from this point on. Uona smiled.

  Small scrub pines, like bonsai trees, dotted the rocky pathway. Uona strode confidently to the peak. She gazed up at the sun goddess, Amaterasu, and raised her hands in supplication. The breeze tugged at Uona's kimono, kissing her pale flesh, begging her to run with it. She turned circles on the balls of her feet and reveled in the sun and wind.

  Uona gazed from her mountaintop over the majestic countryside below. Around her lay the Great Wall of the North—Kyodai na Kabe sano Kita—one of the chief mountain ranges of Roku-gan. Away to the south stretched the sacred wood, Mori Isawa, and beyond that, the fertile lands of her kinsmen.

  Past the borders, she knew, lay chaos. The Emerald Empire had been in upheaval since the death of Hantei the 38th. His son was no replacement for the wise old ruler. Even now, clan fought clan and plague ravaged the land. Not here, though. Here only the breeze touched her, only the clouds could find her.