by Renee Ahdieh
Following the death of his mother, Roku had retreated to his rooms. He’d become even more paranoid, insisting that his food be tested by five people before he would even consider letting it touch his lips. The only times he called for Raiden were the moments he wished to rail at someone.
He’d screamed at Raiden just this morning. “How have you still not learned the location of the Black Clan? Why is Takeda Ranmaru still free to wander the empire?”
True to form, Raiden had said nothing to defend himself. Done nothing. He’d spared the last of his saving grace to organize this audience.
And it was falling apart before his eyes.
“Answer me, Lord Shimazu,” Roku demanded. “What would you do if you were emperor? Would you go among the people with your hands outstretched, letting them rip the very clothes from your back? What if I let you go in my stead?” His eyes gleamed, and the hint of madness in their depths turned Raiden’s blood cold.
In the far corner—just beyond the series of open screens leading into the throne room—a group of ladies gathered following their afternoon stroll. Mariko and her single courtier—a young woman named Hirata Suke—knelt to one side.
Wishing to put an end to this madness, if even for a moment, Raiden stood. “Lord Shimazu, how dare you criticize your heavenly sovereign. Be gone from this audience at once, for the next word you speak could be your last.”
Lord Shimazu trembled in his silks at Raiden’s cruel tone. Nevertheless, he bowed deeply. As he took his leave, the look he sent Raiden was one of unmistakable gratitude.
Raiden kept his expression cool. Composed. Detached. He sat down once more under the watchful gaze of his emperor.
“Don’t think I am ignorant to what it is you do, brother,” Roku said quietly. “You cannot spare every fool from my justice.”
Raiden bowed his head, his eyes locked on the floor. “I live to serve my emperor. Nothing more.”
Roku snorted. Then returned his attention to his waiting advisors. “Is there anyone else with guidance they wish to offer their heavenly sovereign?”
The sound of heavy silence descended on the space. Even the ladies of court seated outside ceased with their whispers. It appeared none of those in attendance had the gall to posit a single inquiry.
“My sovereign?” a thin voice rang out from the back of the room. It was followed by the careful shuffle of the eldest advisor to the emperor. He was the grandfather of Mariko’s courtier, Hirata Suke. “May I speak?” His back was hunched, his body thin. But his gaze did not waver.
“Lord Hirata.” Roku’s eyes narrowed. “Please step forward.”
With careful steps, Lord Hirata made his way toward the foot of the Chrysanthemum Throne. “My sovereign, as you know, I have been an advisor on matters of communication throughout the empire for the last thirty years.”
Roku waited. His fingers tapped on his bolstered armrests.
“And”—Lord Hirata reached into his shirtsleeve—“I received a most interesting message this morning.” He unfolded a piece of washi paper.
“What is it?” Roku asked.
No one else present could feel it as keenly as Raiden did, but he sensed—in his bones—the threat lurking beneath Roku’s pleasant tone. It almost brought Raiden to his feet. Lord Hirata was an elderly man. One who’d served their father loyally, despite his sadness at the deaths of Takeda Shingen and Asano Naganori. Lord Hirata did not deserve to bear the full brunt of Roku’s wrath.
“Would you like for me to read the message, my sovereign?” Lord Hirata asked.
From his periphery, Raiden could see Mariko’s courtier shift with unease. He watched Mariko place a hand on Hirata Suke’s arm in reassurance.
Roku’s voice turned quiet. “No, Lord Hirata. I would not. Simply convey to me the crux of the message.”
Lord Hirata paused. Then his features gathered with conviction. “It is a letter from the son of Takeda Shingen.”
The entire court took in a breath. The air around Raiden stilled.
Roku laughed as though he were delighted. “And what does the traitor have to say?”
“He offers his condolences on the passing of our heavenly sovereign’s parents. Though he suspects you will not believe him, he wishes to reassure you that he had nothing to do with their deaths.”
Roku leaned forward, his eyes bright. “Go on.”
“And he offers his assistance in helping to quell the … unrest within the imperial city.”
“His assistance?” Roku eased back, steepling his hands beneath his chin. “How does he suggest going about this?”
“He says that he does not need to come near the castle. That he has no designs on the throne. But he has under his command a force of over a thousand men. If you would disburse an equal number of soldiers—or perhaps rally your vassals from the west—then it might be enough to control the spread of violence. He will begin on the outskirts of Inako. He suggests that you start near the castle. Then the looters can be corralled between both your forces.” Lord Hirata took an unsteady step forward. “If you are amenable to his suggestion, he asks that you light the signal fire on the ramparts of Heian Castle.”
Roku nodded. “This sounds wholly reasonable, does it not, Lord Hirata?”
Lord Hirata blinked. “I—I am not certain, my sovereign. I only wished to convey his request.”
Roku stood. “It seems entirely reasonable for me to allow a band of assassins and thieves—the ones responsible for my father’s murder, my mother’s murder—into my city, bearing arms, does it not?”
When Lord Hirata looked Raiden’s way—seeking a measure of reassurance—Raiden shook his head almost imperceptibly. Implored him to say nothing more.
A shadow crossed the elderly man’s face. As though he were supremely disappointed. “It is not up for me to make a judgment, my sovereign.” Lord Hirata bowed. “It is only my duty to deliver you this message.”
Roku nodded. Another moment passed in heavy silence.
“You will be the first to die today,” the emperor said softly.
A gasp emanated from a corner near the entrance of the long room. Mariko’s courtier clutched both hands over her mouth. Her brow creasing with concern, Mariko stood suddenly.
Raiden’s heart missed a beat.
She should not have stood.
But it was too late. Roku’s attention was already caught by Mariko’s movements.
“Please, dear sister, step forward,” Roku said, his voice eerily pleasant. “I see you have something you wish to say.”
“No,” Suke gasped. She clutched at Mariko’s arm. “My lady—”
Mariko shook her off. Moved into the throne room. Every step she took, Raiden’s heart pounded faster. Panic tingled across his skin. He tried to admonish her with a look—to drive her back—but she did not return his gaze. Not once. She paced the entire length of the throne room, her head high, her sight unwavering.
“Please”—Roku gestured for her to move even closer—“share with me your thoughts, as my dear brother’s wife.”
Mariko bowed low. “Please do not execute Lord Hirata, my sovereign. He is not responsible for sending this letter. He has only delivered a message.”
“Ah, how considerate of you,” Roku said with a bright smile. “You do not wish an elderly man to perish simply for doing his job.”
Mariko bowed again. “Yes, my sovereign.”
“So if he is not responsible for delivering this insult, then who is?”
Wisely, Raiden’s wife chose to say nothing.
“I find it interesting,” Roku said, his reedy voice carrying throughout the space, “how the daughter of Hattori Kano always seems to be part of any conversation involving the son of Takeda Shingen.”
Mariko blinked.
Roku snorted. “Brother, it appears your wife has been disloyal to you.”
Color flooded Mariko’s features. “My sovereign—”
“I always suspected she was in league with Takeda Ranmaru,�
�� Roku said, his smile slicing across his skin. “But how mortifying for you to discover her infidelity in such a public manner.”
Raiden kept his features flat. He did not even dare to look Mariko’s way.
“It seems my brother’s wife wishes to offer herself in exchange for Lord Hirata,” Roku announced, his eyes gleaming. “Is that the case, you treacherous whore?”
Mariko flinched, but held her chin high. She wet her lips. Swallowed. “Yes, my lord.”
“Very well,” Roku said. “Put her in chains and have her placed beneath the castle to await my judgment.” He turned toward Raiden. “That is—of course—if my brother has no objections.”
Raiden sat utterly still. Still enough that he could count the beats of his heart.
He said nothing.
Just like with Lord Hirata, a look of profound sadness passed over Mariko’s face.
The entire court watched as imperial soldiers shackled Hattori Mariko and led her from the audience room. When Lord Hirata took a step in her direction as though to stop them, she held up a hand, silencing his efforts.
The stately elder man bowed to her. The ladies of the court watched, their eyes wide, their hair ornaments trembling. Around the room, several advisors to the emperor stole glances at each other, weariness weighing their every motion.
Once Mariko was gone, Roku moved from his throne. Emerged from beneath the silken canopy. He smiled broadly as he gazed about the room, meeting the faces of his most trusted advisors. Those who had served his father—served his family—for generations.
His attention settled on Lord Hirata, who still waited in the same place before the throne, his features vexed. A deep sorrow hovering about the space.
Roku moved toward him. Lord Hirata bowed.
The moment the elderly man stood, Roku slid a small blade across the elderly man’s throat.
Lord Hirata’s hands covered the wound, blood spurting from between his fingers, a shocked expression on his face. Roku pried his advisor’s hands away so that the blood cascaded down the front of Lord Hirata’s elegant robe, staining it darkest crimson. When the man fell to his knees, Roku lifted his bloodied hands to his face. Studied the bright color glistening between his fingertips.
A muted scream arose from the end of the audience room. Two ladies of the court fainted. The rest of the advisors took to their feet, their features aghast.
Without a word, Roku returned to his throne.
“You are dismissed,” he pronounced.
All the while, Raiden sat rigidly in place, the last of his hope dwindling to nothingness.
My Sovereign
Raiden could not sleep. No matter where he looked, he saw the image of Lord Hirata’s face, mired in sadness. Felt the pain of his failures. And he could not avoid the stark truth:
Mariko was not where she should be.
He glared at the ceiling. It was not his fault. He had not been the one to take a stand against his brother in such a public fashion. Raiden had tried to warn her. He was not culpable for Mariko’s stubbornness. The girl was as headstrong as an ox.
But that feeling of wrongness gnawed at Raiden until he could bear it no longer.
The death of Lord Hirata was the final blow to Roku’s fragile hold on reality. In the aftermath, the emperor fled the throne room. He’d screamed to all those present, saying if a single one of them stepped forward—thought to challenge him in any way—he would kill each and every one of them. Stain the floors red with their blood.
Now he was nowhere to be found.
Once the moon had reached its apex, Raiden left his chamber to resume the search for his brother. They needed to mend what Roku had broken today, or their family risked losing the support of the nobility. He made his way through the darkness, two of the most trusted members of the yabusame at his back. When he did not find Roku anywhere in the emperor’s private chambers, he took to searching the Lotus Pavilion, the place where Roku’s mother perished.
He found an oil lantern in the center of the dowager empress’s floor, its contents still warm.
But no sign of his brother.
A thought entered Raiden’s mind. He left the Lotus Pavilion and crossed the nightingale floors toward the entrance of the castle’s underbelly. At the top of the stairs, he stopped. Then turned toward the two soldiers in his shadow.
“Stand guard by the dowager empress’s chambers,” Raiden said under his breath. “If the emperor arrives, watch over him, but do nothing that might upset him. Say nothing. The first chance you get, send word to me.”
The two members of the yabusame bowed in tandem. One of them looked Raiden squarely in the eye. “My lord?”
Raiden waited.
The soldier continued. “Forgive me for offering my opinion without being asked, but I worry for your safety.”
“Do not worry for my safety,” Raiden said. “Worry for the safety of your sovereign.”
The two soldiers exchanged a look. One whose meaning could hardly be mistaken.
“Do as you are commanded,” Raiden said in a harsh tone.
They hesitated for an instant before they bowed again, taking their leave.
Once they were out of sight, Raiden descended into the bowels of Heian Castle. The stench there had taken on a life of its own. He tried not to dwell on all the images it conjured as he proceeded toward the cells. Toward a place that shaped the worst of his recent nightmares.
His wife calmly sat behind the iron bars, her finery soiled beyond repair. They had not chained her as they had Takeda Ranmaru. Someone had thought to provide her with an evening meal, though Raiden was certain his brother would not be pleased to learn of it. At Mariko’s feet sat an untouched bowl of rice and a chipped vessel of water.
Distress tore through Raiden’s body like a caged beast fighting to be set free. He could unlock the cell if he wished. He and Roka possessed the only two keys. But that action would be in direct defiance of the emperor. It was enough that Raiden had lied so many times to protect his new wife. Enough that he’d tried to shield her in secret, just as he had with the young courtiers the night of the dowager empress’s death. Just as he had with Lord Shimazu earlier today. It was not his fault that Mariko languished in filth, likely awaiting her own death. Her fate was sealed the moment she challenged Roku.
As Raiden took in the sight of her predicament, he attempted to appear dispassionate. In truth, his emotions were far from unaffected. His heart thundered in his chest, and the blood coursed through his veins as though a fire raged beneath his skin.
“My lord,” Mariko said in a cool tone.
“Has my brother been here?” Raiden asked. “Has he come to … see you?”
Mariko smiled. “No. The emperor has not come to taunt me. Yet.”
Raiden almost admonished Mariko for her disrespect. But some part of him rebelled at the notion. Rebelled at its truth. “You are certain?”
“If Roku intended to torment me tonight, I believe he would have made his presence known, my lord. He isn’t the type to work in half measures.”
She wasn’t wrong. Roku did enjoy watching his quarry squirm beneath his stare.
Raiden took a deep breath and immediately regretted it. The stench of burnt flesh was almost unbearable. “Is there something else you wish to eat?” He glanced at the porcelain bowl of untouched food. “Or perhaps to drink?”
“You’re trying to help me?” Mariko curved an eyebrow his way. “Now, of all times?”
Raiden frowned. He did not appreciate her censure. “Of course I am.”
“Forgive me, my lord, but I think you’re trying to help yourself.”
The heat running through Raiden’s veins caused his face to flush.
“I don’t mind if you’re trying to help yourself, Raiden. As long as you also help others,” Mariko said softly. “It means some part of you feels guilty. Some part of you knows how wrong this is.”
Raiden studied her a moment. Found himself admiring her honesty. “Perhaps I am t
rying help myself,” he admitted.
“Then it’s possible I wasn’t wrong about you. It’s possible the soldiers who led me to this cell were right.”
“What are you talking about?”
“They told me to appeal to you for mercy. That you quietly spared those who’d fallen into the path of your brother’s rage in recent days. And maybe you would offer me the same consideration.”
“I am not merciful, Lady Mariko.”
“Not too long ago I would have agreed with you.” Mariko paused. “But now I am not so certain.”
Raiden bit down on nothing. She was inexorable, that was for certain. “Why did you offer yourself in exchange for a man so near to death?”
“Because if no one cares about what is right or wrong in the seat of our empire—the very seat of our justice—then all we hold dear is lost.”
Again, his young bride spoke the truth. It only caused Raiden even more consternation. “You were foolish to challenge Roku.”
“And you were foolish to let him rule without question.”
Anger spiked through Raiden’s core. “I am not responsible for Roku’s actions.”
“Your passivity gives him leave to act like a monster. If you allow a monster to destroy everything in its path, then you are no better than the monster, Raiden.”
Raiden tried to leash his desire to yell at her. His wish to prove her wrong. “I do not need to be lectured by a woman on such important matters.”
“Yes, you do. In fact, I think you need to be lectured every day of your life, preferably by a woman.” Mariko took a breath. “You are nothing like Roku. I suspect much of that is a result of your mother. The lectures of a woman have made you a far better man than your brother will ever be. They would have made you a far better ruler.”
“Your words are treasonous.”
“And correct,” she said quietly.
“Don’t lecture me about being correct, Mariko. You knew that Takeda Ranmaru had sent a message to Roku. I watched you today. The death of Lord Hirata is on your hands.”
