The sun finally lifted its light to fall across the mountains, beginning to banish the faint mist that clung to the ground. Isao breathed in the damp air deeply and let it out in a rested sigh, appreciating all the beauty and wonder surrounding him, and the eggshell blue of the clear sky above. It was truly a perfect day, or at least it would be, if his plan worked as intended.
He had only to convince two Shoguns to join him in an alliance against the strongest force on the continent—what could be difficult about that?
*****
“My lord,” Ichiro’s quiet voice sounded from behind them. “The entourage of the Shogun of Yamazaki approaches.”
“Thank you, Ichiro.” Isao said, just as quietly, before a faint grin stole across his face. “Though you didn’t have to tell me. I’m not so rusty in my skills as all that.”
“Forgive me, my lord,” The shinobi replied instantly, but Isao was not surprised in the slightest to be unable to find the slightest trace of repentance in the ninja’s voice. His grin grew slightly—it was a sign that he was truly getting through to his favorite shinobi. The young ninja he had saved from his birth father years ago would never have dared to even think of doubting their master.
They waited in silence as the Shogun of Yamazaki and his escort climbed up the slope to where Isao stood. The light of the sun was beginning to strengthen as Shogun Matsushita Yoshiro bowed slightly in greeting to Prince Hamasaki Isao.
Shogun Yoshiro was a young man, but his eyes held the weariness of a man far older. Isao hid his sympathy behind a bland façade, but he was well aware of the unrest in Yamazaki and the uneasiness in its Shogun’s seat. The Matsushita dynasty had the support of the people, for its Shoguns were known to be kind and generous and wise, and Yoshiro was apparently no exception.
The nobility of Yamazaki, however, were notoriously of a different mind. Isao, on his part, was quite content with the peace and loyalty within his own beloved Nagisa, and would not wish to be in Yoshiro’s place for all the world .
“I was told by your messenger that you have a matter of great importance to me and my country. Is this true?” His voice was low and guarded, and his eyes were shadowed—this was a man who knew the value of readiness and watching one’s back. Isao approved, and hoped he would be a good ally.
“Indeed.” Isao replied, his own voice smooth and without any betraying emotions. “However, I also stated that the information was not only of importance to Yamazaki, but to Miyukimura as well. So if you will forgive me, I would wait until Miyukimura’s Shogun arrives before I speak any further.”
Yoshiro eyed him carefully, before bowing once in acknowledgement and stepping back to wait. Isao resisted the urge to let out a tiny sigh of relief and went back to waiting. His wait was not long—and the sun had barely fully risen over the tops of the mountains before there were two Shoguns standing before him, instead of one.
Shogun Ishikawa Osamu-Hachiro of Miyukimura was almost exactly the opposite of Yoshiro. Where Yoshiro was young, Osamu was nearing his elderly years. Where Yoshiro was cleanshaven and his hair was black as a crow’s wing, Osamu’s hair and beard were white streaked with silver—like the snow that gave his country its name. Where Yoshiro was slender and wiry, Osaum was broad-shouldered and slightly bulky. However, on both their shoulders rested the heavy burden of an entire nation, and they both bore it well and proudly.
Shogun Osamu eyed Isao up and down once, before bowing once in greeting. “Well then, stripling, what is this about? Your man told me you had information I need to hear.”
“My messenger spoke the truth, Shogun Ishikawa Hachiro. I do indeed have news of great importance. You see…” HE took a deep breath and sent up a hasty prayer to the Heavenly Emperor that they would believe him. “Akiyama and Masaki have joined forces, and they plan on putting a puppet Empress upon the Imperial throne.”
The two Shogun stared at the prince as if he had chucked his brain down the side of the mountain before speaking. Not that Isao blamed them—he’d thought the same when he first met his pretty, tiny little sister-in-law.
“I assure you, it’s true,” he said blandly.
Yoshiro blinked once, before cautiously asking, “Do you have proof of this… claim? It is, you must admit, a bit… farfetched sounding.”
“I would not have called your two excellences out here to meet me, if I was lacking in proof,” Isao said, stamping down fiercely on the small spark of irritation threatening to ignite in him. HE was busy, dang it, and he needed to focus on winning these two to his side! And he was Hamasaki Isao, and he refused to fail.
“Look, here is my proof,” Isao said, and withdrew the scroll he had brought from his sleeve. He had very carefully copied all the relevant information from Princess Katsumi’s diary, and he hoped it would be enough to persuade them. “This scroll contains excerpts from the diary of Princess Fujioka Katsumi of Akiyama, which was retrieved from her palace by my brother, and great personal risk to himself.”
“Your brother?” Yoshiro raised an eyebrow. “Which one?”
“My only full brother, he who was once known as Nishimura Shichiro, son of Tomoko.”
Yoshiro nodded, once. “Ah, the one who was banished.”
Isao felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle in indignation, and he grit his teeth in an effort to keep himself from leaping to Shichiro’s defense. If Yoshiro saw fit to insult the Prince of Nagisa’s baby brother in front of his very face, well… Yoshiro should thank the Heavenly Emperor and all his Celestial Host that Isao was currently in the middle of diplomatic relations. Otherwise, Isao would have compunction in sending Yoshiro home missing several pieces.
Despite what anyone may think, Isao had not neglected the training of his youth by any means. There was a reason that all of Shogun Tsuneo’s attempts at assassinating him had failed.
“I have heard tales of your brother,” Shogun Osamu said in his deep, gravely voice. “He has traveled though my country many times, leaving interesting rumors in his wake. He seems to have the most interesting luck, but he is apparently known for helping those he can.”
Isao did his very best to keep from beaming proudly, and succeeded by a small margin.
“Indeed.” Yoshiro concurred solemnly. “I, too, have heard rumors of the kind deeds he has performed amongst my people, though most of the tales do not know his true name.”
Isao nodded in acknowledgement of their compliments and rejoiced in the fact he wouldn’t have to send Ichiro after Yoshiro in order to teach him a lesson. The man was as the rumors said him to be, after all.
“Come, let us look at this information,” Osamu said, and held out a hand. Isao silently surrendered the scroll to him, and waited patiently while the read through it.
After several minutes, Osamu growled out a sentence compromised of a rather impressive vocabulary, and shoved the scroll into Yoshiro’s hands. Isao supposed the Shogun of Miyukimura had gotten to the ‘I believe that if they refuse to cooperate, Shogun Osamu might fall greviously ill and pass away’ part of the narrative.
Osamu was quickly joined by Yoshiro in anger, however Yoshiro was considerably more composed about it. The Shogun of Yamazaki’s dark eyes, however, spit enough sparks to light the entire mountain on fire. If Isao’s guess was correct (and Isao was very rarely wrong), Yoshiro had just gotten to the ‘If I intervene, I may be able to use the wars [in Yamazaki] to my advantage, and be sure that whoever ends up on the Shogun’s seat be someone who will support the Empress’ bit.
“Well?” Yoshiro said, after staring angrily at the scroll in potent, silent rage. “What is your plan, Hamasaki Isao?”
Isao lifted an eyebrow and smiled guilessly. “Plan? My dear Shogun, why do you think I have a plan?”
“Because while my country may be small, I am by no means blind, Prince!” Yoshiro snapped, pointing a finger accusingly at Isao’s chest. “I know what your skills are and what the Shogun of Masaki raised you to be, and I know what office you fulfil for the Hamasaki Shogun. You would not hav
e summoned us here if you were not in possession of a plan.”
Isao resisted the urge to pout at having his fun whipped out from beneath his feet.
“Very well, I do indeed have a plan.” He accepted the offer of the scroll back, tucked in safely within his sleeve, and folded his arms in front of him. “Masaki and Akiyama planned to take the Emperor’s Heir and put her on the throne as a puppet. I propose that the rest of the countries—Nagisa, Yamazaki, Miyukimura, Taura and Karigane, form an alliance and together we will restore the Imperial throne as it was meant to be—not as a puppet, but as our sovereign, reigning over us all. We all know the story—Tamotsu Eiji the Dragon prophesied that the time would come when Emperor Hanshin’s chosen heir would appear again, and the seven nations would serve them in harmony. I believe that time is now.”
“That’s all very well and good,” Osamu said lowly, “however, we have no idea where the Fujioka have stashed the Emperor’s Heir.”
Isao couldn’t help it—a smile slipped across his face. “Actually, we do. Or at least, I know where she was stashed, once.”
“Once?” Yoshiro narrowed his eyes.
“Once.” Isao nodded. “You see, Princess Katsumi made a very grave miscalculation. She knew that the Emperor’s Heir would need heirs of her own, so she made a deal with Shogun Tsuneo. She married off the Emperor’s Heir to someone who they believed would be easy to deceive and even easier to dispose of, once their goals were achieved and an heir was born.” His smile turned sharp. “That person was my brother, the disgraced and disinherited prince of Masaki.”
Yoshino breathed out a sigh. “I see… He grew suspicious of his marriage and sought out information from Princess Katsumi herself. And when he discovered the truth?...”
“He took his wife—Princess Nishimura Hanako of the Dragons—and together they fled from Princess Katsumi’s grasp.” His heart ached with his heavy burden, and he added softly, “My brother was… lost, at least for the time being, but his wife is safely within my protection, and she bears her heir within her.”
Osamu frowned. “It’s good that the Princess is out the scheming grasp of the Fujioka, but if she is the wife of your brother, how can we expect her to not have undue loyalties once we place her on the throne?”
Isao nodded in acknowledgement. “A valid point, my lord, however, I beg you to remember that while Shichiro may be my brother in blood, by law Princess Hanako and her husband bear no obligations towards me. After all, was not my brother disinherited? Prince Shichiro and his wife are completely independent, and they are both fair and good people. And I, for one, have no intentions of trying to control my brother. I have long wanted him to ascend as he was always meant to.”
Yoshiro and Osamu shared one long look with each other, before Yoshiro said, “I will admit that all that you have said seems good, and I for one would be willing to join in an alliance with you. However… what proof do you have that this Princess Hanako is indeed the Emperor’s Heir?”
“She has the blue eyes of the Emperor’s line,” Isao replied, “Yet, I am aware that that merely might mean she is a member of the Miyamoto clan. However, it is rather difficult to deny that she is the true heir when a Akashi Keiji the Fox himself tells you it is so.”
The two Shoguns stared at him in utter befuddlement, before Osamu gathered his wits and responded, “You expect us to believe that? No one has recorded seeing any of the Celestial Spirits since Tamotsu Eiji spoke to the Shoguns at the end of the war 300 years ago! They obviously lost interest in the nations after we abandoned the Heavenly Emperor’s anointed!”
“Well, will you look at that, little sister,” A rough voice suddenly spoke behind Osamu. “After all the work I have put into protecting his country, and he sees fit to think I’d abandon them so easily as all that?”
A smooth voice answered him, feminine but deeper than one might expect, but that voice came from behind Yoshiro, “Well, we have been working quietly in the background, elder brother. It is not of any great surprise that they would doubt our appearance. Three hundred years, after all, is a very long time for mortals.”
The two Shoguns spun around to look at the persons Isao had been staring at with wide eyes. There were two—one a man and one a woman. The man was tall and broad-shouldered, but his build was sharp and lean, like a battle-ready wolf. A beard adorned his face and his hair was done tightly in a warrior’s knot. He was clad in a fine battle-kimono, adorned with fur, and was wearing a very fine set of armor, with a (think of suitable weapon) held in his hand. His features were sharp but handsome, and his eyes were yellow and gleamed with an otherworldly light.
At his side was a very beautiful woman with pale skin that seemed to shimmer oddly in the light of the morning sun, and her eyes were silver and shone with that same strange light. She was wearing an elegant kimono colored orange and red-orange and gold, and was decorated in a hexagonal pattern that reminded Isao of the scales of a koi fish. Strangest of all, however, was her hair, which was elegantly arranged with the help of golden hair sticks (find a better term my brain isn’t coming up with one)—it was a pearly white shade that gleamed golden as the light hit it.
Both of them were impossibly tall, seven foot, Isao thought, if it was an inch, but the woman was noticeably smaller than her counterpart.
“Hello, my lords,” She said softly, and smiled at them, her eyes gleaming keenly. “It is an honor to speak with you face to face.”
“Who—” Osamu managed to begin, but the strange man cut him off, bowing deeply.
“Allow me to introduce ourselves.” He said, his rough voice tinged with amusement. “I am Takeo Masa the Wolf, Guardian of Miyukimura, and this lovely lady is my sister Izumi Miwa the Koi, guardian of Yukimura.”
Yoshiro and Osamu stared at the pair in shock, but Isao instantly gave them a deep bow. “It is my pleasure to meet you. I have met your brother, and so I know how difficult it can be for us mortals to accept the truth when we first meet you. Perhaps a demonstration might be in order?”
The man, Takeo Masa, narrowed his gaze at Isao before breaking out in a grin that revealed unnaturally sharp teeth. “I like you—you’ve got spirit. You’re definitely of my brother’s spirit. I take it you’re the one he’s been so sore over losing you to our sister in Nagisa?”
Isao bowed lightly in acknowledgement, and the man grinned wider. “Very well, I’ll do as you suggest.”
And in the next moment a Wolf stood where a Man once was.
Osamu and Yoshiro simultaneously took a step back, but Isao looked on impassively. A wolf changing into a man wasn’t that much more impressive than a talking fox performing the same trick. One could only see something like that so many times before one grew inured to it.
“Well?” the Wolf spoke. “Are you convinced? I’d ask my sister to do the same, but it’s a little difficult for her if there isn’t a source of water within easy reach.”
The two Shogun looked at each other, then back to the Wolf, who was smirking smugly. Yoshiro coughed and cleared his throat. “N-no, that won’t be necessary.”
“Excellent,” the Wolf said with a sharp grin, “I thought you’d see my point.”
“I must ask, however,” Isao spoke, “Why exactly you two have come here?”
“Our father asked us to,” Izumi Miwa said, in her low, sweet voice. “Tamotsu Eiji is very exited with the chance to have it all as it once was—an anointed Empress upon the throne and all seven nations living in harmony with each other. Our celestial father is doing all within his power to prepare the countries for the change that is coming, and he sent my brother and I in order to smooth the way as much as possible.”
“And to confirm that the Princess Hanako is as she said she is,” The Wolf said. “Which you were rather foolish to disbelieve, for all the proof was there for you.”
Izumi Miwa cut in at this, adding, “All of us—my sisters and brothers, and my honored parents, were there at her birth, and we all saw the Mark of my Father upon her. She i
s indeed the only true Heir, and you—Osamu and Yoshiro—would be wise to join forces with Isao in her service. She is kind and good, and her husband is wise and fair. They will lead you well.”
“Well?” Takeo Masa said, “What do you say?”
Osamu and Yoshiro considered, and finally the Shogun of Yamazaki stepped forward, bowing low. “Yamazaki would be honored indeed to participate in the restoration of the throne they so cruelly helped to bring down. My country and I will be honored to join your alliance.”
Isao felt a stirring of triumph deep in his gut, but he tamped it down for now. He turned to the thoughtful visage of Osamu, who was staring ponderously towards his country. “And you, Shogun Osamu? What are your thoughts?”
Osamu turned back to him and stared into Isao’s eyes, reading the intent behind the young Prince’s gaze. He saw courage and strength and an a sincere earnestness, which was a rare find among a noble of such distinction. He liked what he saw, and he smiled. “Miyukimura has always been loyal to the Emperor, and the fact we haven’t had one for so long means nothing. Now that the Empress has returned, how can we do anything but our best to serve her? Yes, we will join your alliance.”
Isao gave them a deep bow, hiding the elated expression that had sprung onto his face. “I thank you, my lords. And I swear by the blade of my sword that you will not regret it.”
Two down. Only two more to go.
CHAPTER TWELVE --- THE PLOTTING AND THE PREPARING
It had been some time since Isao had last been in Karigane—for the last couple years his workload had greatly increased, as his honored father had grown older and more weary, and had delegated more and more tasks into Isao’s care.
However, he and Tatsuya, the young Shogun of Karigane, were good friends indeed—after all, Isao had mentored the fourteen-year-old Shogun upon his rise to the throne, after Shichiro had helped Tatsuya reclaim it.
Tatsuya usually made it his business to come and visit Isao and his family at least twice a year, in order to take a break from the demands of a Shogun’s title. It was these same demands that kept him from attending Isao now that the Prince of Nagisa was within Tatsuya’s own country, but Isao did not mind. After all, he did not need to convince Tatsuya to join their cause—as soon as the Shogun of Karigane had read the words “I have proof” upon the missive Isao had sent him, he had been writing an enthusiastic response.
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