Kyuden Bayushi, the Chamber of Swords…

Churetsu, the Celestial Sword of the Scorpion, was unique among all the blades the Fortune of Steel had crafted. The other blades Tsi Xing Guo had granted to the Clan Champions were stunning works of art as well as deadly weapons. Churetsu, however, was plain and unimpressive to the casual observer. Only the true Scorpion Champion could see the glory and beauty of the blade.

Bayushi Sunetra stared into the heart of the katana, meditating on the bright red flame that burned within the steel. Dozens of other blades sat on shelves and stands, lining the walls around her, all perfect reproductions of Churetsu. Each was protected by invisible wards — the fool who laid hands on a false Churetsu would die screaming in agony. This place was a symbol of what it meant to be a Scorpion, to be surrounded by lies, surrounded by the promise of death. The truth offered little comfort, only the knowledge that all else was a lie.

Sunetra knelt alone in the chamber, holding the Celestial Sword in a two handed grip. Such a great deal of her life was false. She had been born a Crane, fostered to the Bayushi. When her Daidoji parents perished in the War of Spirits she chose to remain among the Scorpion, hiding all evidence of her Crane heritage and becoming a Scorpion forevermore. She was the consummate spy, a woman with no past to bind her and no future to distract her. No secrets were beyond her grasp. The most secure fortress could not prevent her infiltration. The most loyal husband could not resist her smile. When all else failed, few enemies could stand against her sword. Her talent was such that Lord Yojiro allowed her to select her own assignments, which led her into the service of the Emperor’s youngest son - the Anvil.

Hantei Naseru was like no other man she had met – he was a mystery. At first, she had simply hoped to learn what had truly happened to Naseru during his time in the Steel Chrysanthemum’s household, but in time the truth became less and less important. Naseru was unique. He balanced cold pragmatism and compassion in equal measure. He was a man who thrived on adversity, who turned his enemy’s strengths to his advantage, and punished them for their weakness. It was her honor and her privilege to serve him. When Bayushi Yojiro asked that inherit his position as Champion of the Scorpion Clan, her only regret was leaving the Anvil’s service. When he took the throne, the Mistress of Secrets quickly pledged her clan’s undying loyalty to the Righteous Emperor.

Though many were surprised to see Naseru succeed his father’s throne, Sunetra was not. Such a thing was the inevitable destiny of a great man. Even so, she felt a strange sense of regret at the announcement that Naseru would take a Lion bride to reward the Right Hand’s loyalty to his father. Why did such a small thing bother her so much?

“Duty is the only reward a Scorpion truly requires,” she whispered, sliding Churetsu into its saya and placing it on the single empty shelf.

Pushing such weak sentiment aside, Sunetra rose and exited the chamber. The plain wall panel slid into place behind her, hiding the Chamber of Swords from view. She continued through the halls of Kyuden Bayushi. Only the occasional lantern lit her path, but the Mistress of Secrets knew her home too well to stumble even in darkness. She caught the peculiar thick scent of oil but showed no confusion or curiosity. She passed a narrow window, and for a moment the pale light of Lady Moon shone upon her painted face. Sunetra stopped, taking a deep breath as the night breeze filtered into the hall. She moved to the window, gazing out at the deep forests that surrounded the castle with a faint smile. Somewhere, the sound of a night bird echoed through the forest.

The Mistress of Secrets turned and threw her knife into the heart of the nearest assassin.

The man fell to his knees, staring down at the hilt with a bewildered expression. Shuriken flew from the darkness as he died, but Sunetra quickly rolled aside, diving into the shadows beneath the window. She made out the shapes of five more masked figures, moving through the darkness toward her. None made a sound nor spoke a word. Their blades, painted black, did not gleam in the lantern light. She looked past them, toward the main keep where her samurai awaited. One of the assassins toppled a nearby lantern, causing the oil soaked floor to erupt into flame.

“There will be no escape, usurper. No reinforcements,” one assassin hissed.

Sunetra drew her wakizashi and scowled. “How unfortunate for you,” she replied.

Toshi Ranbo, the Imperial Palace…

To be Emperor was a thankless job to be sure, but it also had many benefits. Naseru could not deny the luxuries of his new station, though he strove not to revel in them too greatly. As he held his arms out to his sides and watched the small cloud of servants flit about him like nervous bees, he missed the days when he was allowed to dress himself.

“Your Majesty,” said an Imperial Guardsman peering into the chambers. “Doji Tanitsu humbly requests a moment to speak with you.”

“Of course,” Naseru said, nodding to the guard. “I have been waiting for him. Show him in.”

The guard bowed deeply and retreated from the chambers. A moment later Tanitsu appeared in his place. The Imperial Advisor was dressed in his customary fine blue silks, but his hair was slightly disheveled, and he paused the briefest moment before prostrating himself to the Emperor. Anyone else might not have noticed the difference, but Naseru knew Tanitsu too well. He immediately feared that whatever Tanitsu had discovered, it would only make his life more difficult.

“Leave us,” Naseru said to his servants. They scurried from his presence with as much speed as they could muster. Only Yotsu Irie, Captain of the Palace Guard and the Emperor’s personal yojimbo, remained. When they were gone, Naseru gestured curtly for his old friend to rise. He would not endure such tedious formality away from the court’s eyes.

“What news of my brothers?” Naseru asked.

“Isawa Sezaru is still missing, Your Majesty,” Tanitsu said. “The Jade Champion has been scouring the Phoenix mountains, but with no sign. Asahina Sekawa-sama has asked that you rescind the new powers you have granted the Wolf’s Bloodspeaker hunters until such a time as Sezaru can be located.”

“Why?” Naseru asked.

“As I am sure my lord is aware, even with the Wolf’s direction there were… accidents,” Tanitsu replied. “Sekawa fears that without Sezaru to direct their actions, more unfortunate deaths like Agasha Hamanari’s may result.”

“But if I rescind my edict the Bloodspeakers will perceive it as an admission of weakness,” Naseru said sharply. “They will rage unchecked across my Empire. Cannot Sekawa direct the hunters until my brother is found?”

Tanitsu was silent for a moment. “I must speak frankly, Your Majesty, and I pray you will not judge Sekawa for what I am about to say. The Jade Champion feels the hunters are unnecessary, an unchecked chaotic force that interferes with his Jade Magistrates. More often than not they have made his duties unnecessarily difficult. Sekawa has asked me to tell you this. If the hunters are placed in his command, he will dismiss them. He does not wish such a dismissal to appear as a challenge to your authority, Your Majesty, but he claims it is the only way he can execute his duties in a reasonable manner.”

Naseru scowled. “If Sekawa disagreed so strongly with my methods, he should have told me so earlier,” he said. “I cannot recall the hunters now.”

“Not all the hunters are as honorable as your brother, my lord,” Tanitsu said. “They may root out the enemy, but I fear innocents will also die.”

Naseru frowned. “I will accept the deaths of a few innocents before I will let our enemies destroy another city.”

Tanitsu nodded silently.

“What of Kaneka?” the Emperor asked, changing the subject.

“Your brother continues his march to Toshi Ranbo,” Tanitsu said. “He has gathered many new warriors to his banner.”

“New warriors?” Naseru asked, a hint of surprise in his voice. “From where?”

“Mostly ronin and bushi of the Minor Clans,” Tanitsu replied. “Kaneka boasts that he marches to protect the Emperor from his enemies, and that all who call themselves samurai deserve to protect the Emperor. The Great Clans are absorbed in their own disputes, so he has appealed to lower ranking samurai. Many have leapt at the chance for greatness at the Shogun’s side.”

Naseru nodded. Kaneka never ceased to surprise him. “And what of his intentions?” Naseru asked. “Does he truly wish to protect the city, or to conquer it?”

“I do not know,” Tanitsu said softly. “I imagine if he raised arms against you, there are many among his soldiers that would turn against him. That alone should guarantee his good behavior.”

“But there are many ways to conquer a city,” Naseru mused. “Kaneka may need never draw a weapon against me…”

“What is your command, Your Majesty?” Tanitsu asked. “I know the Shogun well, as it has been my privilege to befriend all of Toturi’s children. I will be the first to face Kaneka when he arrives, if you wish it. If his intent is violent, I may be able to dissuade him.”

“Thank you, Tanitsu,” Naseru replied thoughtfully, “but I hope that will not be necessary.”

“Hai, my lord,” Tanitsu replied. “I have no more news. I will leave you in peace now.” The Imperial Advisor bowed deeply and retreated from the chambers.

“Disturbing,” Yotsu Irie said.

“Hai,” Naseru said. “There was a time when Tanitsu did not fear to disagree with me. He sees me only as an Emperor now.”

“That is not what I meant, my lord,” she said softly, “but why should he not see you so? Are you not the Emperor?”

“More and more every day, I fear,” Naseru replied.

The Emperor sighed and gathered his obi and other assorted ornaments. The servants began to filter back into the room, but ceased their advance at a withering gaze from Irie. The Emperor calmly finished dressing himself and made his way out of his chambers. At a curt gesture from their captain, the Imperial Guard quickly moved out to clear the Emperor’s path. The court would be assembling soon, but Naseru did not go immediately to his throne room. Instead he took a meandering path, venturing through the halls of the Palace and into the gardens. A few assorted members of the court bowed as he passed.

“Lord Naseru,” said a dry voice. “A moment please?”

Naseru halted in his tracks, single eye narrowing. At his side, Irie reached for her sword. Only a handful of samurai still called the Emperor by his given name, and none demanded the Emperor’s attention in so bold a manner. When he saw the withered old man that waited at the edge of the garden his frown darkened, but he gestured for Irie to stay her blade.

“Seppun Toshiaki,” Naseru said to the old priest. He recognized the old man as the sensei of the Hidden Guard, an order of shugenja dedicated to protecting the Emperor’s palace from magical threats. The old man had served since his father’s time. Though few knew his name, he wielded a great deal of subtle influence over the Empire’s religious community.

“Do you have a moment?” the old man asked with a faint smile. “Forgive me if I do not bow… my old bones have seen better days.”

“Speak,” Naseru said brusquely.

Toshiaki glanced about the garden nonchalantly then looked back to the Emperor. “I wish only to communicate my condolences that your crusade against the Bloodspeakers has not progressed as you had hoped,” he said. “It is unfortunate that even your Jade Champion is unwilling to aid you in this endeavor… but fear not. I have alliances in each shugenja house. I can restore order where your brother has failed.”

“My brother has not failed,” Naseru said in a low voice.

“I mean no insult,” Toshiaki answered, “but when the Voice of the Emperor falls silent, is there not the danger that the silence will be filled by enemy whispers? The Hidden Guard exists to protect you from such whispers, Your Majesty. We do not hesitate. We act… for the good of the Empire.”

“Of course,” Naseru said dryly.

“Such a shame, my lord, that the campaign against the Bloodspeakers has gone so poorly,” Toshiaki mused. “The Rain of Blood came and went and we could do nothing to stop it. The city of Gisei Toshi has fallen, and the Emperor’s servants did not even know it was there. We dispatch hunters to destroy the enemy… and one of our own keenest minds suffers. You offer a challenge to Iuchiban, to meet your armies at the Imperial Capital, and he flouts your authority by constructing his citadel in Otosan Uchi, the former capital. In such dark times, it is inevitable that such mistakes be made… I find it unfortunate that it is noble men such as yourself who are often blamed for such mistakes.”

“Your sympathy is appreciated,” Naseru said tersely.

“But fear not, my lord,” Toshiaki said. “Such problems may arise… and there will always be men such as myself to solve them. As we will solve your problem with the hunters. The Empire shall see that not all of your servants are weak, and look to us as examples of honor, duty, and bushido. I am pleased to serve as such an example. If you need me, Naseru-sama, I will always be here.” The old man smiled, bowed his head slightly, and withdrew from the Emperor’s presence.

“What arrogance,” Irie whispered, seething with anger. “His words reek of self interest. Does he mean to challenge your authority?”

“Dismiss the other guards, Irie-san,” Naseru said, “and walk with me.”

Irie did as her master commanded. He continued walking deeper into the gardens, his bodyguard following obediently behind. They walked deeper down the garden paths. Soon the whispers of the other courtiers faded, and they were alone.

“Yamainu,” Naseru said simply. A tall man in rough armor of a ronin emerged from the bushes, falling to one knee before the Emperor. He had not made any sound nor indicated in any way that he had been there. Irie reached quickly for her sword, but the Emperor shook his head. She relaxed, but only slightly. Yamaniu’s presence always disturbed her.

“Do you know who Seppun Toshiaki is?” Naseru asked.

“He is the sensei of the Hidden Guard, sama,” the ronin said.

“I know that,” the Emperor replied. “I would like to know more.”

Yamainu looked up slightly, but he did not meet the Emperor’s eyes. “How much more, sama?”

“All that you can discover, my friend,” the Emperor answered, “without his recognizing your presence. Leave him alive.”

“Hai, sama,” the ronin said.

“This is no feeble old man, Yamainu,” Naseru said. “He is dangerous. If you fail, none must know that I sent you.”

“Hai, sama,” the ronin answered. A cruel smile formed on his lips.