by Ree Soesbee
In his hand he held a small figurine of jade, a woman carved in resemblance to the Lady Doji, first of the Crane among the Celestial Heavens. The token brought him peace when his mind was troubled, and it was never far from his side. With the recent troubles in the court, Yoshi had taken to carrying it even when he was alone. It was his way of asking for Lady Doji's blessing and that her watchful eye be never far from her noble sons.
In the somber twilight, his battlefield was silent. The samurai of the court had stepped into their chambers to prepare tomorrow's
strategy. Soon, Shizue would come, ending her discussions with the Phoenix. Then, she and he would return to their chambers to prepare the next day's strategy. For now, the silence filled him with restful quiet.
Ten days had passed since Toshimoko was named Emerald Champion, and already the court revolved around the Crane and their war. All the houses of Rokugan feared the strength of the Emerald Champion. They remembered Satsume's legions, clad in shimmering green and gold and marching at the side of the Crane. It was good that the great clans of the empire knew fear. It made them more malleable—easier to control.
A sudden disturbance in the hallway caught Yoshi's attention, destroying his reverie. A servant shouted and fell prostrate, begging forgiveness in a broken whisper. The painted screens of the emperor were flung wide, and the stark light of the corridor chased the shadows into distant corners of the room.
A large figure broke the light from the hallway. He leaned arrogantly on one of the doors. "Yoshi-san," a mocking voice echoed through the mahogany beams of the council room. "I knew I would find you here."
Hoturi? The man strode into the room with a warrior's steps, wide and stalwart.
Deeply surprised, Yoshi stood from his cushions to greet his lord. "My lord Hoturi," the courtier's voice did not betray his emotion, "I had not expected to see you here. Your note said you had left for Kyuden Doji, to see that the palace was prepared for Lion attack. We have readied the men to follow— those that can be spared from Otosan Uchi's Daidoji guard."
"Thoughtful." Hoturi smoothly smiled, his eyes bright in the dark room. Hoturi's gaze drew Yoshi's attention as a serpent's draws in a wren.
Something inside Yoshi recoiled. "My lord," he whispered, "there is great need for you in the lands of the Crane. You should not have returned."
"You think to command me, Yoshi?" The lack of formality seemed sinister, echoing though the emperor's own courtroom. "No, no ... not at all, my lord. It is only that..."
"lie." The biting retort churned in Yoshi's stomach. "You will be silent." Hoturi stood on the edge of the dais, his hands balanced on the hilt of the ancestral sword at his side. For a long moment, the champion of the Crane looked around the wide chamber. His flickering eyes rested on the painted screens, the wooden dais, and finally, on the throne of carved emerald at the center of the high chamber. "Come here, Yoshi."
The Kakita Daimyo bowed, moving smoothly from his seat on the dais. "Kneel."
Confused, the Kakita Daimyo fell gracefully to his knees at his lord's side. The figurine was clasped tightly in his hand. The edges of the statuette bit into his soft palm.
Hoturi stepped around him, a smile playing on his lips. He moved like a cat, circling the pale daimyo as he spoke. "The world around us has changed, Yoshi. There is no time for mistakes or for pleasant games. The Lion and the Crab have struck their first blow against us. We must repay them in blood." Sinister threads wove their way through the Crane Champion's words, implying murder and destruction. "You whisper gentle words with the courtiers here while Daidoji and Doji die on the field of battle. The earth drinks their blood as you drink your pretty sake."
"The Crab have turned away from our southern lands, due to our efforts here.... They have—"
"lie!" Yoshi heard a faint click as Hoturi's sword slid from its saya. The blade gleamed red in the light of colored lanterns. Blood trailed down the edge of the ancient weapon, tingeing its shining soul with madness and fury. "You have not done enough! You have failed to keep the Crab from our borders. They will return, and the Lion still slaughter our men without pause!" Hoturi's voice shook from the force of his anger. For a moment, Yoshi heard Satsume's voice instead of his son's. "The Crane are done playing your games, Yoshi! It is time to fight and to give our enemies the brutal deaths they deserve.
"There will be no more mercy from the Crane. We must strike without regret. We must strike without thought. And those who fail us," the sword slid fully from its sheath. "Die."
The sword blow stunned the Kakita Daimyo, sliding through cushion and dais and sinking deep into the cherry wood below. The blade protested as Hoturi wrenched it free. He raised the ancestral sword of the Crane once more and stared deeply into its light.
Yoshi's hand fell open, and the token of jade rolled to the dais. It glowed faintly, the inner light of the kami shining in the presence of Hoturi's madness.
With an angry curse, Hoturi picked up the token and hurled it across the room. The scent of burning flesh came from his hand.
"Now, cousin Yoshi." Hoturi grinned with feral passion. He held his left hand gingerly, but his sword did not waver in his steady grip. "I have a few commands for you." Without bothering to resheath his katana, Hoturi reached into his sleeve and tossed a package of papers on the floor. "You will find instructions for the court and new alliances to create. Do whatever you must, but do not deviate from these commands. You may even find," Hoturi said with foul pride, "that you could stand to learn a few lessons from the champion of the Crane."
"Hai, Hoturi-sama," Yoshi whispered, anger swelling in his mind. Never had the sons of Doji dared to give him orders for the court. Hoturi was acting fully within his rights as champion—but his foolish pride could damn them all. As Yoshi reached to place the letter in his obi, a voice came at the wide doors to the throne room.
"My lord Kakita?" Shizue called. Entering the room with a gentle bow, she walked toward them. Her steps slid gracefully across the doorway, her clubfoot moving silently beneath the hem of her long kimono.
"Leave us, Shizue-san," Yoshi choked, hoping the girl would not enter.
"Hoturi-sama?" she smiled. "I did not know you were in the capitol."
"Sister." The gleam in Hoturi's eyes startled Shizue as he turned toward her. He extended his hand, still holding his sword before him. "Come to me."
"Hoturi?" She took a few sliding steps across the floor toward him.
"Yes, Sister." Striding to her side, Hoturi reached to catch a long lock of her pale white hair between his fingertips. Instinctively, Yoshi looked away, ashamed at such casual familiarity. Hoturi continued, "You appear more lovely than usual, little one."
"Thank you," she replied, glancing uncertainly at her mentor and trying to ignore the sword in Hoturi's hand.
Hoturi allowed the lock to slide over his palm. He removed the pins that held the thick cloak of her hair in a carefully styled foxtail. As it fell, he pulled it free across her shoulders. "My poor sister, trapped behind a crippled foot and a crippled mentor."
Yoshi stiffened on the dais, the insult scarring his features with anger.
"But do not worry, little sister," Hoturi breathed, pressing the blade of his shining sword to her pale throat. Light reflected from the blade. It scattered across her frozen features, illuminating her hair with cold blue flame. "If we haven't found you a husband by the time the Lion take Kyuden Doji, I will make a woman of you myself." His lascivious hand brushed her cheek.
Shizue shuddered, taking an involuntary step backward.
He grasped the hair at the back of her neck, pulling it into a knot about his fist and bending her head back. The blade hovered against Shizue's throat for a moment more.
"Hoturi-sama," Yoshi whispered. "Your commands will be obeyed, and your men are prepared to march within the hour. Take them and defend our lands." A desperate gamble, but Yoshi had no other game to play.
"You are right, Kakita." Hoturi's hand slid slowly from his sister's be
nt form, allowing her to fall to her knees. Snarling, the Crane Champion looked down at his retainers. "Have the Daidoji meet me outside the stables in half that time. I will kill any that dare delay my journey. Do you understand?" Hoturi grinned wickedly, pausing for a moment with his sword raised above Shizue's form.
"Hai, Lord Champion," Yoshi breathed, bowing his head to the floor in a gesture of obedience.
Shizue too bowed her head to the mahogany boards, her heart pounding in fear. They did not look up again until the storming beat of Hoturi's footsteps had faded from their ears.
AAAAAAAA
Yoshi watched from the balcony of the Crane as the contingent of Daidoji rode from the Imperial City. Their banners waved in the light of the torches they carried. At their head rode Hoturi, a brave figure in armor of blue and silver.
"Send a letter to Uji-san," the Kakita Lord commanded. His aides hurried to obey. "Tell him the Daidoji of Otosan Uchi march to the Crane provinces, bringing all the aid we can spare. More, tell him Hoturi rides with them."
Yoshi looked down at the token of jade in his hand. The lady's legs had melted as if burned by some titanic flame. In the moonlight of his chambers it almost seemed as if she knelt in his hand, praying for mercy from the madness of a ruined world.
fields of the ki-rin
Cracking walnuts between his teeth and spitting the shells into the large fish barrel, Wayu pondered the insanity of the world. Toku ferried helmets full of the sour nuts from the Shinjo woods. Toshimoko demanded more and more of the forest's fruit. The campsite was cold and wet from recent rain, and the barrel they had taken from the last village smelled of dead fish and old salt.
Overall, thought Wayu as he spat another walnut into the bin, this is an entirely unpleasant day.
"Master," one of the men shouted, "haven't we cracked enough?"
"No!" Toshimoko shouted, rapping the man on the head with a thin cane of balsa. "Not until that barrel is full."
"But why?"
Rapping him again, the old Crane samurai rebuked his inquisitive nature. "I don't
want the Unicorn to think the Emerald Champion travels with bandits and mercenary ronin." Laughing, Toshimoko pointed at Toku. "Get a large stone, as well, boy. We'll need it." He circled the fire, checking the barrel and encouraging the men. The sun was slowly fading in the sky, but Toshimoko showed no signs of stopping, and only one man was allowed to leave the group—to make food for the others.
Confused, Toku continued to split the nuts with his teeth. The Emerald Champion had gone mad, but it was his duty to obey.
A few hours of pounding later, Toku watched, amazed, as Toshimoko calmly ordered all the men to strip off their gi and hakima and hand him the garments. Over the fire, he placed a large iron cauldron—a cooking pot, taken from another village—filled it with water, and added the walnuts one by one. In went the clothes—blue, green, orange, and gray—and out they came, a dark brownish-black. The men huddled in their cloaks, exchanging extra clothing while their garments dried. The old sensei looked on with faint approval.
"Not the most attractive group," the sensei said when the men were arrayed in their newly dyed garb, "but at least you give the illusion of a unit. It will have to do."
Wayu brushed his blackened haori, tucking the long sides into his hakima to keep warm. "Shiro Shinjo is only a few miles beyond that ridge," he pointed. "We should make it to their first outpost by midmorning tomorrow." They had nearly twenty men, the remnants of the Emerald Magistrate units from Otosan Uchi to the Dragon mountains. Once, there had been more than two hundred, but now only these few remained. Toshimoko glanced through the ranks as they began to march, straightening their lines with a shout and a mocking remark.
Over the long days of travel, Toshimoko had begun to teach some of the men, encouraging them to improve their skills and rediscover their strengths. Many of the men no longer referred to him as anything but sensei, and any resentment toward the gruff old man soon died on their lips.
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The next morning, they marched into the Shin jo lands. The Unicorn plain spread out beneath the mountains like a quilted canopy. Open roads stitched across wide fields of gold and the marshy squares of harvested rice paddies. The snow of the mountains had faded away against the foothills of the Shinjo territories. On the road below, horsemen approached.
The three horses were large, their flared nostrils breathing great gasps of air. Riders in the purple and gold of the Unicorn sat atop the massive steeds, holding high banners with (he Shinjo mon. Toshimoko watched as they approached, recognizing one of the men as Yasamura, son of the Shinjo Daimyo.
The old samurai straightened on his scruffy pony, wishing the chubby steed were more statuesque. The Unicorn stallions stood at least half a man taller than his own steed. Their arched necks were wide and muscular. No wonder their cavalry could ride across the empire in half the time of the other clans. Each of their horses' steps were three paces longer than those of his pony.
Yasamura lifted his fist to halt the scouts beside him. All three slowed from their racing gallop to a more sedate walk.
Toshimoko nodded to Wayu, who bellowed a command and halted the Emerald Magistrates. The sensei rode forward, his weary pony whuffling at the huge red beasts.
"Greetings, Champion of the Emperor," Yasamura called, bowing in his saddle. He was a cheerful lad. Youthful and handsome, Yasamura wore his two swords more like ornaments than the weapons of a samurai. He was still a lad, but atop his massive steed, he seemed more impressive than many daimyo in the empire.
"Greetings, Shinjo-san. My men and I," Toshimoko's sweeping gesture indicated the twenty samurai in black, "are weary, and we request the hospitality of your lands."
"It would be our honor, Kakita-sama."
Tradition served, Yasamura sent a Shinjo ahead to inform the palace that the Emerald Champion had reached Unicorn lands. Yasamura and his lieutenant meanwhile rode beside the magistrates, providing a very public escort down the wide, sloping roads. The Shinjo palace stood atop a high plain, its strange walls arching with barbarian architecture. Purple banners waved from high minarets. The road that led to the palace was lined with white stones, quartz shining brightly in the winter sunlight.
The courtyard of the structure was wider than in traditional palaces, covered in trailing ivy and fountains that trickled over carefully carved boulders. Unicorn palaces always had fountains; their fetish with water seemed to be a carryover from time spent on their journeys through the Burning Sands. The deserts lived in Unicorn history, carried over to their descendants in the Emerald Empire.
On the wide stairs that led into the inner hallways of the palace, the Unicorn Champion waited. Shinjo Yokatsu was an older man, his hair graying with the weight of many years. Though younger than Toshimoko, he had been Doji Satsume's peer for many years. Looking at his wide shoulders and bandy legs, the sensei was reminded of the past Crane Champion, remembering how the two men had struggled together against opposition from the other great houses of the empire. Yokatsu must be made to remember his alliances with the Crane, and if Toshimoko's journey was to be worthwhile, the champion of the Unicorn must renew his alliance with Satsume's son.
The Crab would not forget their war with the Crane simply because they had been beaten in the fields of Beiden.
Although the war for Beiden Pass continued, the Unicorn did not keep their armies in the pass. The massive cavalry still remained on the fields of the Unicorn provinces, awaiting Yokatsu's orders for deployment.
Yokatsu stood at the top of the stairway, three courtiers to either side and a small troop of Shinjo guards behind. As Toshimoko dismounted, he could feel the Unicorn's eyes sweeping over his men, taking in every nuance of their stance and attire. Though their dyed clothing gave them a certain unity, the men could barely be granted the title legion or even unit. Still, it was the best that could be done. No doubt Yokatsu understood the necessity.
Then again, Toshimoko noted as Yokatsu smiled, the
Unicorn were hardly more educated than gaijin, and might not have noticed at all.
"Toshimoko-sama," Yokatsu's aide began, speaking for his lord as was appropriate, "you are welcome here. Your men will be given a wing of their own for their stay, and whatever amenities they require. Tomorrow, you will meet with my master."
The Emerald Champion nodded seriously. "There is much to discuss. Much to be said." Changing the subject, he said, "Tell His Excellency that it was a pleasure to meet his son. The boy seems to be growing well, and strong."
The aide smiled, "I will tell him your words, Kakita-sama. We are honored."
"As I will be honored by your lord's words, tomorrow." Leaving the modest implication to hang between them, Toshimoko followed his men into the palace.
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Waiting was the worst part of such negotiations. Although it had been only a night and a day, already Toshimoko felt as though he had been kept waiting for years. He and his men had enjoyed the luxury of the Unicorn baths, and were clean at last of the filth of travel. Outside in the fields, huge horses pranced and played while a chilly wind whipped the violet banners above the sprawling wall. Toshimoko leaned on the windowsill of his high stone chamber, looking down at his magistrates as they practiced their technique alongside the Shinjo bushi. Dawn passed, and then morning, and each hour of the afternoon seemed to stretch on for days.
When the servant finally came to the guest chambers to escort him to Yokatsu, Toshimoko nearly let out a cry of relief. Wayu smiled at the old sensei and offered the Emerald Champion his cloak. "Take care, Sensei," the young lieutenant said with a smile, his broken teeth glinting. "You never know what to expect from the Shinjo."
"I know just what to expect," Toshimoko sighed, shrugging the cloak over his blackened haori and gi. "Expect difficulty." The words were from his ancestor's treatise on swordplay, but their meaning was true even on the field of diplomacy. Thank the Fortunes that it was the Unicorns he bartered with, thought Toshimoko as he followed the servant. Other clans would have made him follow their explicit directions for bathing and purification and pray for two more hours.
