L5r - scroll 01 - The Scorpion

by Stephen D. Sullivan

  Looking in that direction, Shoju saw a man sitting on a low platform made of ivory. He wore a fabulous kimono that seemed to reflect the stars themselves. Shoju tried in vain to see the man's face. His countenance was wrapped in shadow, though the glow from his golden eyes did pierce the darkness.

  "I am honored, Togashi-sama," Shoju said, bowing formally to the Dragon lord. "I have come because I need the guidance of your wisdom."

  "We see your true face, Scorpion lord," the Dragon said, "and we know what is in your mind."

  "Tell me then," said Shoju, "do I read the signs and omens correctly?"

  The Dragon nodded. "You do."

  "Then the last of the Hantei will bring disaster to all of Rokugan and release Fu Leng into the world once more."

  "The final Hantei emperor will do this, though those who hold the throne before him will hasten the day."

  "And that day is soon?" Shoju asked.

  "Very soon indeed," replied the Dragon.

  "Then we must act to stop him."

  "There is no 'we,' Bayushi Shoju. You know my nature just as I know yours. You know that I will not meddle in the empire's affairs."

  "Great Lord, you must. The people need your strength and wisdom. Together we could—"

  "Together we would destroy the world just as surely as Fu Leng—just as the Hantei will do, if left: unhindered. None may see his own future, Bayushi Shoju, not even I."

  Shoju thought for a while, and then finally said, "The stone thrown into the pond never sees the ripples it creates."

  "Just so," agreed the Dragon Lord.

  "Then tell me," Shoju said. "Can I prevent this catastrophe without your aid? Can one clan alone be enough? Will my plan work? Do I have the power?"

  The Dragon nodded. "If your plan succeeds, the empire will be saved."

  Behind his mask, Shoju smiled. He took a breath of the sweet, cold mountain air and let it out slowly. "But the cost will be terrible," he said somberly.

  The Dragon's golden eyes gleamed in the darkness. "Some futures are plain to all of us," Togashi said.

  "Again, I beg you, help me in this endeavor."

  "I cannot," said the Dragon. "This path you must walk alone. Now go."

  Shoju bowed low. "Thank you, Mighty One." When he looked up, the Dragon was gone.

  The Scorpion daimyo turned and walked back down the long stone stairway. His withered arm ached fiercely, and he rubbed it as he went.

  A future of fire and blood plagued his mind, but he realized no one else could help him. The Dragon had declared his neutrality; the Scorpion would stand alone. His retinue had come a long way for so simple an answer.

  With this meeting, Bayushi Shoju knew his course had been set. From now on, he would have to keep his own counsel, even if it meant his doom.

  DUELS

  Akodo Toturi rode to the entrance of the Imperial Palace in Otosan Uchi and reined in his Unicorn-bred steed before the gates. The guardsmen recognized the Lion daimyo; the gates opened, and they waved him through.

  Toturi looked at the palace with mixed emotions. The beauty of the grounds, the gardens, the castle itself, nearly overwhelmed his senses. The flowers, the waterfalls, the exquisite carvings and sculpture, and the high towers overlooking fabulous vistas enticed him with their magnificence. What man in all of Rokugan would not want to live in such a place?

  Toturi also knew that the castle was a cage, a coldly beautiful cage from which he could never escape. As daimyo of the Lion Clan, Toturi was chained within the Imperial household forever.

  His every instinct rebelled against such imprisonment, but his sense of honor and duty made him do what he had to.

  For nearly a month Toturi had put off his visit to court, always finding some excuse—a border skirmish, a supernatural incursion—to delay his trip. He could put it off no longer. His courtiers said the emperor grew impatient to see him. It was wrong to keep the emperor waiting.

  It was not the emperor that the Lion Champion feared to see.

  He had tried to talk Ikoma Bentai into making the trip with him, but the wily Lion general had refused.

  "This is something you have to brace yourself for," Bentai had said. "All your legions can't do it, nor can all the sake in the world. I cannot do it either. A cub once burned is twice shy, but sooner or later, a lion must face the wildfire."

  Bentai's double meanings had not been lost on Toturi. The general did not refer to the fire of the Celestial Son, but to the eternally renewing flame of the Phoenix.

  The Phoenix, his fiancee, Isawa Kaede—the woman he did not love. He thought of her and could not recall what she looked like; instead, Hatsuko's painted face danced before his mind.

  Despite his brave words to Hatsuko in the woods, Toturi found his courage waning within the walls of the Imperial Precinct. He reined in before the stables, and a groom came to take his horse.

  As he dismounted, the doors to the great hall opened. A small committee came out to greet him. At their head stood Hantei Sotorii, the heir to the throne. He was dressed in a ceremonial kimono and looked rather uncomfortable. The rest of the party ignored the boy as he scratched himself and shifted from one foot to the other.

  Behind the heir stood Shosuro Taberu, the emperor's Scorpion advisor when Bayushi Kachiko wasn't at court. Doji Shizue, the young Crane courtesan, and Seppun Ishikawa, the captain of the guard, also accompanied the young Hantei, as did several other people whom Toturi did not know.

  The Lion fought hard not to frown. The emperor knew Toturi was coming and yet he had sent the heir and some second-rank dignitaries to meet him.

  Usually, a clan daimyo would be greeted by the emperor himself or, if the Celestial One was unable to attend, a large body of his courtiers. The size and composition of this retinue clearly indicated Hantei's displeasure with his general. Doubtless the boy heir was honored by this duty; Toturi was not.

  Akodo Toturi walked toward the committee, forcing his budding frown into a pleasant smile. At least, he thought, Isawa Kaede is not with them. The Lion didn't feel ready to confront his fiancee just yet.

  The heir cleared his throat and stepped forward to greet Toturi. "Akodo Toturi-san," the boy said, trying hard not to appear nervous. "My Celestial Father sends his greetings and welcomes you to the Emerald Court. We are pleased you have honored us with your presence."

  Toturi bowed at this, though he wondered if the Scorpion diplomat had helped the young Hantei with his speech.

  "The Most High Emperor regrets he could not greet you himself, but he has other pressing matters at present. In his stead and at his behest, we have planned a feast this evening to celebrate your return to court. We pray you will honor us with your attendance."

  Again, Toturi bowed. Again, he suspected the hand of the Scorpion in the message. Of course he would attend the feast; it would insult the imperial household to do otherwise. The emperor would know that very well, as would all senior members of his court. To imply otherwise was almost an insult. No, it was an insult. Still nervous, the young Hantei seemed oblivious to the double meanings in his words.

  Hantei Sotorii looked to Taberu the Scorpion on his left, and then to Shizue the Crane on his right. The heir seemed lost. Seeing his confusion, Shizue stepped forward and produced a small scroll from her robes. The boy fumbled with

  the ribbon that sealed it, unrolled the parchment, and read.

  "We pray you will honor with your attendance," he repeated.

  Toturi and the rest of the retinue pretended not to notice the lapse.

  The heir continued. "We also hope that you will entertain our court with tales of your recent endeavors, both on the field of battle and off."

  Toturi fought hard not to let his face redden. He bowed low to let the momentary flush past. Could the emperor, or someone else, suspect the reason he'd been away so long? Could they know about his dalliances with Hatsuko?

  "We are sure," Sotorii continued, "that your stories will thrill us, as they have in the past." Here th
e heir put the parchment roughly aside and spoke from his heart. "I want to hear of your boar hunt in the mountains. Is it true you slew one of the creatures on your own?"

  Toturi might have laughed, but both decorum and a remembrance of his dream with Hatsuko made him bow instead. "It is true, young Highness. I shall be happy to tell you the tale whenever you like."

  For a moment, enthusiasm filled Sotorii's eyes. Then he seemed to remember his place. He became cold and regal. "Now," he said, assuming a tone of command. "You will tell us now. By the lotus ... By my father's lotus pond."

  Shizue stepped forward. She limped slightly, her right leg somewhat lame. "Young master," she said quietly, "what about the ceremonial tea?"

  "Let the tea come to us," Hantei Sotorii said. "We shall await it by the pond."

  The rest of the retinue bowed. Taberu, the Scorpion, said, "As you wish, Shining Prince."

  Toturi detected a look of concern on Doji Shizue's face, and a slight scowl of disapproval from Ishikawa, the captain of the guard. Though the Scorpion's mask hid little of his face, Toturi could not see past Taberu's smile.

  xxxxxxxx

  The Lotus Pond at the palace was a place of tranquillity and delight. Surrounded by cherry trees, the still waters of the pond were disturbed only by occasional ripples as the pond's huge goldfish came to the surface. Toturi wondered if the fish were merely inspecting the grove's visitors, or if they had some other purpose in mind. Perhaps they expected to be fed; perhaps they expected to be fed upon.

  Eating the fabulous fish was forbidden under penalty of death, but occasionally one went missing. Idle courtiers speculated that the fish ate each other if their daily rations proved inadequate. Superstitious kitchen hands whispered of nin ja and black rites requiring golden scales. Toturi suspected large birds.

  The cold-blooded creatures refused to give up their secrets. Perhaps that was why they came to the surface, to see if their kidnapper had returned.

  Toturi smiled. Such fancies nearly took him away from the white towers of the castle. At such times he almost felt at home here. Almost. The heir to the Hantei throne dropped a crumb into the water. The splash of feeding fish brought Toturi out of his reverie. He became the bird in the ivory cage once more.

  Around the pond with him sat the young Hantei and the retinue that had greeted Toturi. As news of the Lion's visit drifted through the castle, others had arrived as well. Toturi recognized the Moshi twins and the three daughters of Miya Matsuo among them. The middle girl, Yumika, kept a careful watch on the heir to the throne. The other two seemed far more interested in the Lion general.

  Toturi felt glad his reputation still meant something in the castle. Soon a small crowd had gathered to hear his tales of battle and honor.

  The Lion daimyo kept them amused, mixing war stories with proverbs and myths he'd learned at the monastery. He included a few colorful tales told to him by Ikoma Bentai.

  These last he edited judiciously for the ears of the heir and the more genteel members of his audience.

  Soon the garden of the lotus pond buzzed with activity, more activity than its scaly denizens had ever known. Toturi was in the middle of the tale of the monkey and the tiger princess when the murmur around him suddenly died away.

  Emperor Hantei the 38th walked into the garden. Behind him came Toturi's fiancee, Isawa Kaede, and other members of his retinue, including Seppun Daiori, Kakita Yoshi, and Seppun Bake. Toturi bowed low, touching his head to the ground. All the others with him, except the royal heir, did the same. Hantei Sotorii merely bowed politely.

  "Celestial Father," the boy said, "you honor us with your presence."

  The emperor nodded, and several of his retainers brought forth a short lacquered chair for him to sit on. The emperor took his seat; Kaede and his retinue sat on the ground beside him.

  "We are pleased to see you, Lion," Hantei said, addressing Toturi.

  "Your light shines upon us all," Toturi replied, rising and bowing once again, though not as low this time.

  The emperor smiled, his mouth drawn and pale. "Then why do you not visit us more often?" he asked.

  Toturi felt embarrassment burn his flesh, but he fought it down. "The moth—though he wears the face of a lion—does not dare fly too close to the flame," Toturi answered.

  The emperor smiled, and then laughed; his son laughed with him.

  "Your words please us, Toturi," Hantei said. "Our friend Shosuro Taberu could not have said better himself."

  At this the Scorpion envoy bowed; Toturi bowed as well, but he felt a slight anger well up at being compared to a Scorpion. He hid the feeling and bowed again.

  "If I speak well," Toturi said, "it is because I am inspired by your Celestial Presence."

  Hantei produced a colorful fan from the sleeve of his kimono and waved it open. "Enough flattery," he said. "We have heard that the Lion is in good form today, and has greatly entertained our people with his stories." He looked directly at Toturi and smiled warmly. "We hope you will not exhaust your tales before the greeting feast."

  "If I run out of stories, I will invent new ones just for you, Majesty."

  "I could not have said it better myself," Taberu whispered to the young heir, loud enough that everyone could hear.

  The emperor, the heir, and all those present laughed, even Kaede. It took a moment for Toturi to warm up, but soon he joined the rest. Better to laugh with your friends than to be laughed at by them, he thought. He reminded himself to watch the Scorpion carefully.

  When the laughter died down, Toturi returned to the tale of the monkey and the tiger princess, making sure to recap it so that the emperor and his retinue would not feel they came into the story late.

  Navigating the court is like conducting a war, Toturi thought, though no one gets killed—at least not right away. He avoided Kaede's gaze and noticed she did the same. He tried not to think of Hatsuko, which, of course, made him think of her all the more.

  As the day drew on, the emperor's attention seemed to flag. Soon, it looked as though he might doze off. Toturi wasn't sure what to do. The rest of his audience seemed in rapt attention. Was the emperor's demeanor an indication that he found Toturi boring, or that he trusted the Lion enough to fall asleep in his presence?

  Fortunately, the Scorpion stepped in. Before Toturi had to decide whether or not to begin a new story, he said, "Your prowess in storytelling is indeed great, as is your prowess in war, Toturi-san. Though it is late in the day, the sun is hot. Perhaps we could adjourn inside and you could demonstrate for us your martial skill."

  "Hai, Taberu-san," Toturi said. "If it is the emperor's wish."

  The emperor roused himself enough to say, "If you so please, Lion. Ourselves, we shall stay here and enjoy the late afternoon sun. We shall rejoin you for the feast." He waved his fan. "Begone with you all."

  The others gathered themselves and left the garden.

  "You shall need someone to spar with, Toturi-san," Taberu said as they left. A small contingent, including the heir, continued to follow Toturi as he strode toward the great keep of the castle. Much to Toturi's discomfort, Kaede came with them. So did Yoshi, the emperor's Crane advisor—who had lately arrived at the lotus pond—and his young apprentice Shizue.

  "Do you offer yourself, Taberu-san?" Toturi asked.

  The Scorpion shook his head. "Only if this is to be a battle of words," he said good-naturedly.

  "You then, Yoshi-san?" Toturi offered.

  "I'm a poet," Yoshi said, "not a fighter."

  Toturi could see from their faces that Daiori and Bake were likely to decline, too—which was just as well. Daiori had never recovered from an old war wound and Bake was permanently hunched over from his long hours of study. Testing his mettle against such opponents could only bring the Lion shame.

  "I'll spar with you, Toturi-sama," said Ishikawa, stepping from the crowd.

  Sotorii, the royal heir, stood nearby, and he seemed to want to say something. Perhaps he meant to answer the challenge
himself. When Ishikawa stepped forward, Sotorii clamped his mouth shut.

  Toturi looked at the captain of the guard and nodded. A girl in the back of the crowd clapped. A look of disapproval flashed in Kaede's eyes.

  "The dojo of the swordmaster has wooden practice swords," Ishikawa suggested. "It is empty at this time of the day."

  Toturi nodded again. "A fine setting," he said. "Let's adjourn there." They changed direction and walked toward the dojo; the crowd followed along.

  WORDS BETWEEN MAN AND WOMAN

  As they walked, Ishikawa sized up his opponent. Toturi was a master strategist. Unparalleled in the art of war, he had devised schemes that allowed his forces—and those of the empire—to achieve victory when otherwise they would have suffered bitter defeat. Whispers around court said the Lion general's prowess as a swordsman wasn't great. Looking at Toturi, Ishikawa couldn't tell.

  The Lion was tall and lean, almost ascetic in his frame, despite his years away from the Asoko monastery. He wore loose-fitting brown robes spangled with ochre Lion crests and decorated with golden trim. Toturi's hair was golden, and he wore it tied back in the traditional style. Like all samurai, he carried the dai-sho swords, and since he was a daimyo, his weapons appeared to be of exceptional quality. On his feet he wore simple sandals.

  Ishikawa wondered whether the simplicity of his attire was an affectation or a reflection of the inner man. Many a warrior had downplayed his skills through the manner of his dress. Though the captain of the guard had seen the Lion at court numerous times, he could never remember seeing Toturi fight. The Lion's garb could mean either thing.

  Ishikawa upbraided himself for thinking like a Scorpion. Not all things in life had meaning. Some things just were.

  As the captain of the guard studied his opponent, Toturi concentrated on the match ahead. He knew Ishikawa only by reputation, but one didn't rise to a captaincy without proficiency at arms. He recalled tales of the battles in which Ishikawa had fought and the Lion's keen mind analyzed the stories, looking for some weakness.

  Iajutsu, the fast-draw sword technique, would not enter into the contest. This was just as well. It was one of Toturi's weak spots and, according to reports, something Ishikawa was good at. Beyond the draw, Ishikawa was a straightforward fighter. He came in boldly and tried to overwhelm an opponent with his strength. Toturi was the man's equal on this account; his strength would not fail him. The captain's boldness could be a weakness as well. A clever feint might trap him into committing a stroke too soon.