Way of the Willow
by Ree Soesbee

The darkness of the clouds rumbled in the skies above the flame-colored banners of the Matsu home. To the west, the fading, sickly brightness of the setting sun shone low over the horizon, and a brisk wind blew the ominous storm toward the battlefields of the Osari Plains.

Matsu Tsuko, Lady of Lions, stared into the black winds that blew about her keep, and cursed at what they implied, both for her and for the Empire that she served. A tall woman, with fire-bright brown eyes and a thick plait of black hair beneath her maned helm, Tsuko could only be called pretty through an act of generosity. Her mouth was too firm, her jawline too harsh, and her eyes held none of the softness that men desire in their wives each evening. Her thoughts were far more suited to the fury of battle, and her hands were callused and sword-worn. She was proud of her warrior's life, and often lead her troops to victory, but now only felt captive to the future she could not control.

The storm's black clouds descended over the plain as Matsu Tsuko's thoughts settled the battles that would soon be fought by her armies. The wind seemed to her to stink of the acrid clash of swords, and the plains glowed a bloody red from the faint light of the sun. The armies of the ronin Toturi, once the honored Champion of her clan but now honorless and outcast, were massing near those plains, and gathered among their number were strange snake men. She allowed her thoughts to linger unhappily on the Naga, who had once been spoken of only in legend and story, knowing that they would be a crucial, unexpected factor in her future plans of victory.

Tsuko clenched her fists on the dull stone of the rampart. The Naga had no business stepping out of those myths, not now, not when the Empire's fate was in her hands! The people of the Empire knew only rumors of the Naga, rumors telling of a warlike people, ancient and secretive. To think that these beast-men would attempt to invade the Empire, and even worse, to know that a man who had once been her clan's honored Champion would lead them, made Tsuko's eyes narrow in anger and betrayal.

Suddenly, a sharp, tuneless voice broke her dark thoughts. "Lady Matsu-san?" She looked over her shoulder at the tower door, and saw Ujiaki, her half- brother, shoving a thin blue-robed figure to the floor a few paces away. "This . . . Crane woman," he said scornfully, "was found by our scouts, near the ronin army. The men who captured her think she's a spy, carrying messages from Doji Palace to Toturi's honorless horde." He sneered down at the bundle of tattered blue rags, his thumb making angry circles about the hilt of his katana. Tsuko set her helmet on the barbican wall, and turned to look at the creature. Pale, colorless hair, typical of the weak Doji clan, streamed out over the collar of a blue kimono. Tsuko eyed her scornfully, but the woman kept her face turned to the floor.

As Tsuko prodded the stranger with one heavily booted foot, she said mockingly, "Rise, Crane, and tell me your clan's messages to the Ronin and his army." The woman looked up, and her gentle gray eyes met Tsuko's blazing dark ones. "Rise!" Tsuko commanded, grasping the woman's arm and dragging her to her feet. As the woman's limp form awkwardly straightened under Tsuko's gauntleted hand, Tsuko noticed the woman's right leg was twisted strangely. "You're a cripple." Tsuko said insultingly, and stepped away from the Doji.

The woman flinched, then stood alone and carefully executed a graceful bow. "My father said that I was born with my foot twisted in the mouth of Fu Leng. It is not my place to question such things." Tsuko studied the woman for a moment, her narrowed dark eyes reflecting the hatred and contempt she felt for all members of the accursed Doji clan. "What's your name, girl?" she spat.

"My name is Doji Shizue, Lady Matsu," the pale haired stranger said softly, "and your brother was correct. I was carrying letters to Kakita Yoshi-san from the army of the ronin Toturi."

Surprised by the girl's forthrightness, Tsuko said, "What did the letters say? Tell me now, and my samurai will allow you an honorable death."

The Crane girl smiled sardonically and bowed again, "You are too kind, Lady Matsu." Behind Shizue, Ujiaki scowled at the subtle insult and reached for his katana, only to be stopped by his Champion's sudden sharp glance.

Matsu Tsuko studied the girl for a moment, then said derisively, "I have heard of you, cripple girl. They say you're a teller of stories. You spend your time inventing amusements in the gardens of your clan, to entertain their delicate minds. Acrobats, dancing, stories, such gentle diversions so the honorable Doji won't be disturbed by the harsh reality of war." Her voice was venomous in its loathing, "Now look at you, with all your petty whimpering. Look at your clan. It has fallen, your champion has been dishonored, and your mission is a failure. Your only obligation now is to give your death meaning. Tell me what was in those letters!"

Shizue stood silently against the onslaught of Tsuko's words, and Tsuko continued, eyes blazing, "You tell your clan stories of honor, history and wars...would you be the only one of your clan left alive, dishonored, to tell the story of its destruction?"

Shizue looked paler then, and said, "Lady Tsuko, I will tell you what you ask, but it is not what you would wish it to be. I carried no battle-plans, no strategies of war to the army of Toturi. I was not looking for these things, which you consider so important. I sought instead only a story, given to me by one of the serpent-men in Toturi's army." Tsuko looked skeptical, but Shizue proceeded, sitting delicately on the barbican wall, folding her crippled foot beneath the remnants of her silken kimono.

"It has been said that history is only the recording of time between wars. The Naga have come to the empire prepared for war, and yet we know nothing of their history. I went to the armies of Toturi to find the history, the stories, of the Naga. I sought to know the reasons the Naga have returned, and why they have entered the wars of our Empire."

"They are honorless," Tsuko interrupted, growling, "Bushi . . . ronin . . . they care nothing for the Empire, or the preservation of the Emerald Throne."

Shizue cleared her throat politely and said, "They have a legend about the origin of their kind, that they say comes from long before the Seven Clans walked the ground of Rokugan." Ujiaki snorted disbelievingly from his corner, but she ignored him. "The Naga I spoke to told this story of his people . . ." Shizue's eyes half-closed as she spoke and her voice cut through the dusky twilight.

"Once, say the Naga, there were no men on the ground of this world. The Sun goddess and her companion, the Moon, circled the heavens together in a dance of pleasure, creating all the life of the land and sea, and brightening the sky with their twin presence. All was peace and harmony, and the beasts roamed the land in chaos and without wisdom.

"The Naga say that the Goddess, who loved all things of beauty, asked the God to give her a necklace made of the finest stars from the night sky. Fearing that if he left her side she would attract a new lover, he refused to venture alone into the night. She asked him many times, and always he denied her. But the Goddess so wanted the necklace that she contrived a plan to trick the God into getting it for her.

"One day, the Goddess took a stone from the ground, and hid it in her obi. She invited the God into her great palace in the clouds and made a feast in his honor. During the splendid repast, she gave the God great quantities of wine and bread to lull him into sleep and drunkenness. As he lay unaware, she fed to him the stone she had plucked from the earth, and it settled into his thick belly.

"The next morning, the two Great Ones began to cross the sky as they had many times before. But the stone in the belly of the God weighed him down and made him slow. He cried out to the Goddess, "Help me, for I am falling behind you!" But the Goddess only laughed, and sailed across the sky away from him. Soon, the night came, and he was alone with the stars. From far away he heard the voice of the Goddess, promising to return to him if he would grant her wish. So he took from the sky many bright stars, and he strung them together into a chain of jewels. Then he called to the Goddess to return to him. When she saw that he had granted her wish, she did come, and he said, "I still cannot follow you out of the night, for I am weighted as if my shoulders bore a load of lead and stone!"

"The Goddess, caring only for her jewels, told him that she could cure him of the strange weight. As he offered the jewels to her, she pulled out his own wakizashi, slit him across the gullet, and the stone fell free. In his pain, the God let go the necklace of jewels and they scattered across the sky, forming the great Sky Road which hangs above Rokugan. The God never recovered from his wicked wound, and to this day he chases her across the sky, he slowly and at night and she swift as the day, beaming her bright joy upon the lands."

"Yes, but what has this child's tale to do with the Naga people who are about to invade Rokugan?" Ujiaki interrupted, muttering sourly from his post behind them, "This talk wastes time, Lady Matsu, and the Ronin still marches to the plains of Osari!" He scowled blackly, and Shizue quickly continued.

"The stone which was in the body of the God, you see, had been under the mud of the earth, and inside that piece of obsidian lay a small greensnake, sleeping in the hardened rock. Within the body of the God, the greensnake grew. The power of the God changed the snake, and it began to think beyond the chaos of animals. When the stone was freed from the God's belly, it fell upon the earth and shattered into a thousand pieces; each piece became a Naga, each part of the other, each broken from the same block. The snake trapped inside the stone became their first Champion, and he named himself 'Qatol.' It is said that he taught his people to build cities and libraries, and that he taught them the way of the shugenja. And because they came from one stone, they remained one people. Unified. And that is the way they come to us now."

Matsu Tsuko had turned to look out over the ramparts while this story was being told, staring distantly at the storm that burdened the night above the keep. She closed her eyes wearily, and turned away from the cloud-blackened sky.

"Your story is curious, Doji." said Tsuko. "And because you've amused me, I'll let you live this night. But war won't wait for children's tales, and I will not have patience with you for very long. Ujiaki will take you to a room where you will be well-guarded, and tomorrow you will tell no stories. You will tell me only of the letters you carried for the Ronin." She waved a hand at Ujiaki, and he summoned one of the house guard, who grabbed Shizue and dragged her roughly through the door toward the sleeping quarters.

"You can't let her live, Lady. She is ... she's ...a Doji." He spoke the word with such fervor that she turned her dark stare on him.

"Don't let your hatred blind your honor, brother," she said quietly. "If this girl can tell us more about these serpent-people, I am willing to listen. The Way of the Warrior teaches us that in order to defeat an enemy, you must first understand him." Tsuko turned toward the black night sky, bereft of stars due to the thick, thunderous clouds, and said, "Go now. I want to be alone."

Ujiaki bowed curtly, and spun on his heel, leaving the Lady of Lions alone with the storm.

*****

The savage blow into her ribcage took Tsuko by surprise, and her weapon flew from her hand as she struggled to regain her balance. The foot-sweep that immediately followed knocked her breathless to the ground, the blade of a weapon at her throat.

She groaned in annoyance as Kage stood over her, his kendo sword still pointed below the strap of her helmet. "Stance," he said gruffly, his eyes thin as dagger-blades, "is still too wide." He stepped back in a swift movement, instinctively wiping the wooden blade against his loose fitting gi. He nodded to Tsuko briskly and she rolled to her feet in a fluid motion.

"Kage, you're the only person I know that can still trample me so easily. Tsuko rubbed her bruises, wincing at the pain, and recovered her weapon.

Kage looked at her for a long moment, then replied, "I do not defeat you, Tsuko-san, you defeat yourself." He pointed a slim finger at her legs, "If you do not have a firm base, then you will always fall. No warrior can stand if they do not know the ground they stand on. Hie?"

Instinctively responding to her teacher of many years, Tsuko assented, "Hie!" Then, wincing again, she bowed respectfully to her trusted sensei.

Suddenly a member of the guard rushed into the tatami, his face flushed and his eyes wide. He bowed hastily to both Kage and to the Lady Champion and handed her a scroll, gasping, "From the battle-lines, Matsu-sama."

Tsuko tore open the message, read the hastily scrawled calligraphy, then crumpled it savagely into waste. Snarling in anger, Tsuko's demeanor changed from a mere student to the matriarch of the fiercest Clan in Rokugan. As she crushed the message in her hands she said bitingly, "Cavalry." Then she stormed out of the tatami, her house guard following closely behind her. Kage watched her back silently as she left, the battered wooden sword balanced perfectly in his hand.

***

The door to Doji Shizue's guarded room within the thick walls of Matsu Keep swung open without warning and Matsu Tsuko stormed inside, her thick plait of black hair swaying heavily behind her. "I thought the Naga had no cavalry." Tsuko thundered, "They have tails like serpents, not legs like warriors, how can they ride horses? And yet these . . . abominations were seen raiding one of our villages for supplies for that damned ronin horde!" Tsuko flung the crumpled piece of paper on the floor near Shizue.

Shizue sat with her hands folded on the windowsill, peacefully staring out through the thick steel bars toward the hills surrounding Matsu Keep. "Good morning, Lady," she said mildly, "I trust you slept well?"

Tsuko snorted and strode toward Shizue, her iron shod boots ringing out across the hard floor like the warning bells in a burning village. "Tell me, cripple. Tell me what magic the Naga have that allows them to sit a steed with a snake's tail for legs." Tsuko towered over the bench, her hands clenched at her sides.

"Magic, Lady?" Shizue turned her gaze finally from the window and looked at Tsuko's tall form. "No magic. Only a gift."

"A gift?"

Shizue paused. Smiling slightly, she said, "A gift from the Sun Goddess herself, so I am told."

"The Goddess of the Sun has not come down from the sky to raid my villages of rice, Doji."

"No, Matsu-san, but she did come down from the sky once long ago." Shizue looked calmly into Tsuko's violent eyes and continued, "There was once a time when the Naga dominion over the lands we now know as Rokugan was absolute. Their people thrived as one clan, with Qatol, their ancient Champion, ruling them wisely. It is said that they knew no war among themselves. They would have lived in peace save for the battles they fought against the evil of the Shadowlands." Shizue looked somber, "This was the time the Naga called the First Burning of the Lands."

"The First Burning? Burning of what?" Tsuko said suspiciously.

"Of the swamps. Of the Shadowlands, and all the evil in it. The Naga have always fought the Shadowlands, Lady, for the Naga have always felt responsible for the its first awakening."

With a victorious smile, Tsuko declared, "I suspected the Naga were at the heart of the evil in the Shadowlands."

Shizue countered, "Your pardon, my Lady, but the story does not begin that way." Shifting on the hard bench, Shizue's clubbed foot protruded from the hem of her ragged kimono like the paw of a strange beast. As Shizue moved, she skillfully covered it again with her kimono. "You see, the Shadowlands existed long before the Naga."

Matsu Tsuko thought for a second, then commanded, "Continue, Doji.". Shizue inclined her head in a graceful nod of assent.

"The Naga once had among them a gentle Lady," Shizue began, "a woman of such rare beauty and spirit that the Sun Goddess shone the brighter in her presence. This woman was called by their people, Ashgara, and she was the only daughter of Qatol.

"Ashgara's one pleasure was to sit by the river and sing while she wove fans from the green rushes that grew on its banks. She would often sit for hours, weaving and watching the Sun Goddess dance across the sky. One day, while seeking plants for her craft, she traveled farther down the river's bed than she had ever been before. There she found a secluded pool away from the swift-flowing current. Strange rushes grew there, colored red as blood and soft to touch but stronger than any she had ever seen before. With her sharp knife she cut many of them, and the fans she made that day were the most magnificent that had ever been seen.

"The next day, Ashgara returned to the pool to see if she could find more of the rushes. To her amazement, the stalks she had cut had returned as thick and strong as before! She praised the strange plants and cut them again to make more fine fans. Returning to the spot the next day as well, Ashgara found they had again grown overnight. She decided that the stalks must be magical and resolved to bring them nearer to the village. It was as she dislodged the plant that she found among its roots a strange pearl, as large as a boy's fist. She gazed at the wondrous pearl, marveling at her good fortune, and took the red rushes back to the village to plant by the river near the town.

"The next day she went out to the magic rushes. To her surprise, they were brown and dead. Ashgara looked at the withered plants and remembered an old tale that spoke of strange pearls that dragons used for their magic. Too late Ashgara realized what she had found, and turned to go back to her father's house. Before she could flee, however, a great shadow loomed over her from the riverbank. Fearfully, she looked over her shoulder and saw the dragon towering up from the river's waves.

"Yu Lung, for that was the dragon's name, grinned at her, showing teeth as long as swordblades. He said that he would grant her one wish in exchange for the return of the pearl. Ashgara thought for a frightened moment, remembering the times she had watched the Sun Goddess dance in the heavens and how much joy the dance brought to her people. Trembling, she asked the dragon to give her the ability to dance like the Sun Goddess. The dragon's eyes narrowed wickedly, and then his mouth opened wide. Mists, thick and heavy, surrounded her.

"When Ashgara awoke much later, it was night, and the dragon and his pearl had vanished. She tried to pull herself upright but found that the heavy balance of her tail was gone, and fell again to the soft bank. Looking down at herself, Ashgara gasped in shock. Her beautiful tail had been stolen, and in its place she had two hideous legs! When the Naga found her she was weeping by the river, and they carried her to her father, Qatol.

"Unsure what to do with his daughter, Qatol placed her in her room under a guard of Naga soldiers." Shizue glanced swiftly at Tsuko and her guard, then continued, "She was kept in the palace for many days, unable to face her people with the shame of her legs. Qatol was kind to his daughter but her people would not accept her as she was. They called her "abomination" and "cripple," and tried to convince Qatol to throw her into the far southern swamps. Always, he refused. Many shujenga tried to reverse the evil spell laid on her but it was no use, and Ashgara grieved at her misfortune.

"Many weeks later a great blight struck the land. The bright midday suddenly turned to a cold ominous night. Darkness reigned, no Sun appeared in the sky, and the land fell into blackness. With the Sun's absence the dark denizens of the Shadowlands spread out from the south, bringing death and disease with them. The Naga shujenga cast many spells, and to their astonishment they discovered the Sun Goddess had been captured and thrown into the darkness of the Underworld by a powerful God. Hearing this, the Naga despaired. At first, many Naga warriors went to rescue the gentle Sun, but all those that went to the Shadowlands died there. Time passed, the lands fell into devastation and ruin, crops withered, and the Naga people began to starve.

"Ashgara mourned for her dying people. She knew there was no future for them unless the Sun was returned to the sky. So, she begged her father to let her go to the Shadowlands and seek her fate there. Qatol at first refused to allow her, but she begged him to let her go, saying that if she should find her death, at least she would die with honor. With a heavy heart, Qatol was forced to concede to his daughter's request. But, as a parting gift, he gave her a choice of the few weapons left among their people. Realizing that the Naga needed all their weapons to defeat the Oni which wandered the land, she chose only a great obsidian shield which had been carved by Qatol from the very stone that spawned the Naga.

"And so, the Naga princess traveled into the Shadowlands. The way was dark and treacherous, and she met many evil Mujina there that taunted her and tried to lead her into the deadly quicksands. But always she outran them on her sturdy legs or hid among the dark waters of the swamp until the larger Oni had passed. Finally, deep in the Shadowlands, she found the opening to the Underworld.

"The lip of the cave was thin, slippery, and covered in thick vines. Ashgara walked slowly across the treacherous ground, her feet holding firmly to rock that would have been as slick as ice to a Naga's tail. When she reached the opening she peered inside and saw there a darkness so absolute that it hurt her eyes to look upon it. She called into the cave but there was no answer. Only a faint gleam in the darkness reassured her that she had found the prison of the Sun Goddess. But, now, how was she to help her escape? If Ashgara ventured into that darkness, she too would become lost. There was not even wood for a signal fire.

"Ashgara was so deep in thought that she did not notice when a powerful Oni arrived to guard the cave. Its huge claws dripped with poison and its gaping mouth drooled vomit and slime. Tiny red eyes deep within its skull pierced her soul to its core. Ashgara was trapped, with only the darkness of the cave behind her. The huge Oni hissed its pleasure at finding such a morsel for its meal! Eagerly it reached to grip her in its clawed hands.

"Ashgara pleaded for her life and begged to dance for the Oni before he destroyed her. Thinking only of its own amusement, the Oni agreed to allow her. Ashgara pulled the mirrored shield from her arm and began to dance at the mouth of the cave. Her movements were slow, rhythmic, and precise, the obsidian in her hands dull and dark. Posing delicately for the Oni, she thought of her people who had died in the Shadowlands. She danced a dance of sorrow, remembering the few Naga left who may be dying in the palaces to the north. Gently turning the faintly glimmering mirror in her graceful hands, she kept the Oni's eyes on her movements, and danced until she thought she would die from fright and fatigue. The Oni's claws opened and closed reflexively, awaiting his meal.

"As his eyes flickered over her, she shuddered behind the polished stone's soft glow, extending a slim arm in a delicate gesture of supplication. Drooling in pleasure, it reached out to grasp her as she passed near. Swiftly she passed behind the shining piece of obsidian, evading his grasp in a decorative twirl. Trembling in fear, she came to the end of the dance, the shield gleaming brightly in her hands, and the Oni lunged toward her eagerly.

"Only to be stopped by a burst of light from the woman at the mouth of the cave." Shizue paused to allow her words a greater effect.

"So the Goddess returned?" said Tsuko, sitting on a chair near the bench and thinking deeply.

"She did. And she seared the darkness out of the lands, burning them with her radiance and helping the Naga drive the Oni back to the pits of the southern swamps. That was the First Burning of the Lands. Further, as agift to remember the brave Ashgara, the Sun Goddess gave all Naga women the ability to change their tails to legs and dance for her. So to this day, the women of the Naga change from tail to legs as we change from kimono to armor."

The room fell silent as the Lady of Lions reflected on the strange tale. Then, Tsuko frowned and called to her guards as she arose, "Bring Agetoki to the council rooms. I must speak with him." As she stalked out of Shizue's chamber, she smiled ruefully at the Crane woman, and said to the guard, "Tell him to ready the horses. We fight at dawn."

The door closed behind Tsuko with a dull thud, and Shizue looked again out the window of her cell. Kage, leaving the tatami, looked up at the keep as he crossed the ground far below and noted the flash of blue at the window. Narrowing his eyes, he quickened his step and vanished through the keep's inner gates.

*****

The night settled again over Matsu keep, the winds lashing against the walls with a sudden biting cold. Banners which had been hung the day before snapped violently and fought against the pull of the air. One ripped, fluttering wildly until it was engulfed by the darkness and could be seen no more. The Lion Clan keep stood bold and unbreachable behind heavy granite walls and solid iron gates. But no walls, no gates, and no fortifications could keep the darkness out. It slid along the corridors, hid itself in unused rooms, and passed silently behind closed doors.

Doji Shizue lay on a hard cot in one of the spartan rooms of the keep. Her face, the delicate, pale features of her clan, turned toward the window's faint light and her gentle gray eyes opened. She had awakened suddenly, the dark stillness of the night surrounding her. For some reason the spirit of nightfall had changed, becoming more still and holding a strange tension that Shizue had not felt before. She arose, her pale hair swinging to her feet, and settled her ragged kimono about her body. Some subtle change in the air rustled about her like the misty breath of a ki-rin, and she shivered. Opening the thick metal shutters of her barred window, Shizue looked out and tried to find its source.

He crept along the high ledges, his feet touching the ground with the delicacy of a leopard on slick rock. Dressed in black, the features of his face swathed in cloth, he leapt unnoticed from the inner wall to the roof of the keep itself, landing noiselessly on the shingled tiles. Practiced and efficient, he found a window that led to an empty chamber, and dropped to its sill. With only a minimum of effort, the lock was sprung, and the ninja vanished inside.

The battle strategies of the next day in her hand, Matsu Tsuko walked with the strides of a captive lioness as she took refuge in the familiar hallways of Matsu Keep. It was her tradition to stride through them before she led her men to war. As commander of the legions of Lion forces, each battle brought new concerns, new strategies, and new dead. Knowing that her orders could sentence men to die, she paced these halls to seek the battle-wisdom of her ancestors. The sanctuary she sought was one of tradition, treading the paths her father, and his mother before him, had trod.

Silently, the ninja wound his way through the corridors. He too passed as though he had been among these halls a thousand times before, but he was not here to chase wisdom. The guards outside the locked door fell swiftly before his kusarigama, the chained weapon which had helped him scale the walls, and the door was easy to coerce open. With no more sound than the passing of a cloud in the night, he entered the locked room.

The ninja slid silently into the chamber, closing the door with a soft 'click'. Shizue spun, her hair swirling in a white blur across the pale light of the window. For a moment, they stared at each other, the ninja and the storyteller, caught between the darkness of the keep and the thin shred of moon which broke through the clouds. Then, with a gasp, she leaped at him and he caught the softly sobbing form of his beloved.

Shizue murmured, "They are going to kill me in the morning because I will not tell them of Toturi's army." Her once rigid composure had crumbled, and now she seemed frail, almost porcelain. "We must escape, I must go back to Kakita-san, he must know that the Naga are not of the Shadowlands . . ." Her whispers were ragged, and he silenced her gently with his hand.

Swiftly, he led her to the door, her limping step more agile than it had seemed to her captors. "There are guards," he said under his breath, "but we can pass them." Confidently he opened the door a finger's width and peered through. A second later, he led her out into the darkness of the keep.

Bypassing the many guards of Matsu palace was dangerous and difficult, often forcing Shizue and the ninja spy to hide in darkened alcoves as a sentry passed. The corridors were dark and twisted, leading them into a maze of rooms. But the ninja never faltered, always following the path that led them down, away from the sentries, and towards the great inner gates.

Tsuko slowed in her journey through the keep, listening intently to the cold, still air. A faint noise reached her ears and she came to a halt. Frowning as the noise repeated itself, she silently drew her katana from its sheath. Again she heard the dull sliding . . . reminiscent of a lame foot dragging across the stone corridor. Cursing to herself, Tsuko flattened against the wall as the sound moved toward her.

As they came around the corner of the hallway, the ninja hesitated. With a sharp cry, Tsuko leapt from the alcove, her blade plunging toward Shizue. The storyteller screamed, and the ninja shoved her out of the way, the blade slicing into the flesh of his arm. Shizue stumbled back away from the two combatants as the ninja crouched, pulling his kusarigama from his gi.

"Well, Doji," hissed Tsuko, "Did your honorable clan send this ninja?" Her sword hung steady in the air between them as the ninja's chain began to whirl. She charged the ninja again, barely missing as he rolled beneath her swing. She snarled and spun to face him, but he danced sideways, his chain blurring toward her legs.

Leaping, Tsuko avoided the entangling chain, and landed with her katana ready to strike, only to find that the ninja had already moved again. He intercepted her as she leapt toward him and with a single movement, hurled her to the ground in a sacrifice throw. As Tsuko gasped for breath, rolling swiftly to the side, he lunged to his feet and faced her again.

Tsuko gripped her sword tightly, preparing for another exchange, when she noticed the blood drops on the floor beneath her. A savage grin erupted across her face, and she spat, "You're already wounded, ninja filth. You're slowing . . . soon you'll be no more than meat on the spit of my," She charged, screaming, "SWORD!" Her sudden blow missed as the ninja swiveled to the side, but her shoulder landed a heavy strike and she heard the ninja gasp in pain.

The steady whirring of the chain slowed as the ninja staggered back, but rapidly increased again, keeping Tsuko at bay while he recovered. Shizue stood, frozen in fear by the side of the corridor, staring helplessly at the combat as Tsuko charged again.

Then, faster than a striking serpent, the ninja struck. Whipping the chain about his head, he spun the dangerous hook toward Tsuko's sword arm. Without giving Tsuko a chance to recover from her charge, he wrapped the chain about her katana and pulled. The sword flew uselessly from her hand, landing far out of reach.

Crouching, Tsuko shook her head in disbelief. "Only one man can disarm me like that," she thundered. Leaping at the ninja in fury, she ripped away his mask. Gasping as she recognized the face, she faltered in shock.

"No, Mother, I am not Kage. But he taught me well. As well as he taught you." Her pause gave Matsu Hiroru the second he needed to land a heavy blow to the side of the Lion Clan Champion's head, crumpling her to the ground. "And you should know, Mother," he said the unconscious form, "No one 'sends' me anywhere I do not wish to go."

Pulling his mask over his face again, Hiroru swung Shizue into his arms, "We must run now. Her shouts will have alerted the guard." Shizue nodded, swiftly tying a scrap of her kimono over his injury and wrapping her arms about his neck. He leapt into a run, headed for the inner gates of the keep.

The guards at the gate had indeed been alerted, and as the ninja approached, they drew their weapons and prepared to attack. "You cannot defeat them!" murmured Shizue, her breath warm in his ear, "You must flee, and leave me!"

Hiroru made no reply, and as they approached the gate, he pulled a small porcelain ball from his belt. Flinging it at the guards, he ran forward with all his strength, holding Shizue tightly. As the ball struck, clouds of sulfurous gas billowed out, covering the gate and sending the guards into paroxysms of coughing. "Close your eyes," he advised, and hurled himself into the mass of clouds. Shizue buried her face in the ninja's shoulder as the gas bit at her eyes and lungs, the sulfur making tears well up through her closed lids. All around her, she heard the guards gasping and wailing as they were blinded by the bitter gases.

After a few moments, they burst out of the poison fog into the wide expanse of ground outside the keep. Hiroru fled toward a grove of willows, his chest heaving with the exertion of carrying Shizue. "We must ride," he gasped, "I have a horse waiting in the trees."

***

From the top of the walls surrounding Matsu Keep, Akodo Kage watched the horse bearing the two figures vanish into the night as the guards floundered out of the slowly dispersing mists. The alarms inside the keep were sounding, but Kage knew they were too late. The arrival of his rebellious former student had been unforeseen, even by the Sensei. "Hiroru and the Doji girl?" he thought silently, "How unexpected." He paused, watching the lightning strike in the storm overhead. "And yet . . ." he reflected, "how useful." An uncharacteristic smile crossed his face as he turned his back to the storm and faded into the darkness of the keep.

***

In the intervals Of rough wind and rain The first cherry blossoms. -Chora


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