By Rich Wulf

The year 1159, the Seventh Day of the Month of the Ox…

“For the Imperial City!” he cried, his voice raw from shouting. He signaled another hail of arrows to fall upon the invaders below.

Kaiu Taikan could barely hear his own voice over the roar of flames and clash of steel. Only hours ago, Otosan Uchi had been overrun by a force from the Shadowlands beyond reckoning. All manner of foul beasts now scoured the streets, slaughtering any who barred their path. Skittering goblins, indescribable oni, and even the mysterious horned Tsuno marched openly through the Emperor’s city, and with each wave that fell, new ranks of undead rose up to bolster the enemy.

The defenders of Otosan Uchi did not know how to fight such an enemy, not as the Crab Clan did, but whoever led this assault was a clever foe. Shortly after Taikan and the others realized that the attack had begun, the Crab estates in the city had been surrounded. Dozens of samurai were now trapped inside, besieged by the demons and undead without.

Taikan’s own Kaiu ancestors had built this place, of course, so it withheld the demonic invaders admirably. Thin wooden doors were suddenly bolstered with steel and stone. Arrow slits opened amid what previously appeared to be delicate statuary on the outer walls. In minutes, what once had seemed a luxurious home to visiting ambassadors had become a fortress. Ravening bakemono beat upon the doors, only to have boiling oil cascade from the roof in reply. The goblins had managed to heap flaming logs against the base of the embassy before they died, but the stone walls did not burn.

“I expect they will not try that again soon,” came the voice of Taikan’s father, Sugimoto. The older man stood beside his son, peering down through the arrow slit. He was still a relatively young man, having married early in life. “I confess, this is hardly the sort of diplomacy I expected to see in the Imperial City.”

Taikan laughed politely, but was unnerved by the tension he sensed in his father’s voice. His father was no stranger to battle, having served on the Kaiu Wall for much of his life. After his mother’s death months ago defending the Kaiu Towers, his father had fallen into a dark depression. Hida Kuon had reassigned him here, to the Imperial City, in hopes that he might find peace. Fresh from his gempukku, Taikan had asked to accompany his father and was allowed to do so. He valued the older man’s wealth of battle experience, and could not help but feel a shred of fear when he sensed his father’s apprehension.

“We cannot defend this place much longer, can we, father?” Taikan whispered so that the other soldiers would not hear.

Sugimoto grunted. “Naturally there are escape tunnels,” he replied, “but the scout we dispatched reported a howling shriek from the depths. Our enemies fight beneath the city as well as in the streets.”

“I do not like the idea of forsaking this place,” Taikan said.

His father smirked. “Then you have learned the lessons of Kaiu well,” he replied, “but there is a greater battle to be won here. The city is in danger, and its defenders need our knowledge of the enemy to survive. The greater duty of the Crab calls, and we must answer even if it means forsaking our adopted home. Even so it will do us no good to flee if we do not know what enemy we will face in the tunnels.”

Taikan nodded at his father. “Hai.”

Sugimoto turned and began shouting orders to the other soldiers. Taikan looked back through the slit, watching the enemy below. The surviving bakemono had withdrawn and, oddly, the other demons and undead had ceased pelting the embassy with arrows and blasts of dark magic. Above the roaring flames of the logs below, he heard a strange droning chant. As it increased in volume, the flames beneath began to glow green. Taikan felt a sickly sense of trepidation deep in his stomach. The sliver of jade hanging about his throat began to radiate an icy cold.

“Get down!” he howled seizing the soldiers at the slits on either side and hurling them to the ground.

A tremendous explosion shook the embassy. Green flames issued in from every arrow slit. The stone door that held the invaders at bay began to grow white hot. A sliver of it fell away, torn off like a scrap of wet clay by a demonic claw. A hideous shriek and more scraping followed as something began to dig its way inside.

“To the tunnels!” Sugimoto cried, drawing his katana and stepping into the hall before the door. “You four,” he said, pointing at Taikan and three others, “help me hold the hall here! The rest of you escape so that Otosan Uchi might survive!”

Taikan nodded, the pride that his father had chosen him to defend the retreat washing away his fear. He drew his katana and stood beside his father with the others, eyes fixed upon the door. His father drew a vial of liquid from his obi and poured it over the blade of his katana, handing it to the next man. It was a mixture of Kuni invention, jade powder mixed with oil to make it adhere to a weapon. The jade would let their steel strike true against even the deadliest servants of the Shadowlands.

The doors tore away with a final heave, gibbets of molten stone spattering upon the floor. What seemed to be an enormous hunting cat sculpted from green flame stalked into the hallway with a deafening metallic roar. It eyed the five Crab who stood before it warily.

“For the sons of Hida!” Sugimoto shouted, charging at the beast. Taikan was only a step behind his father.

Taikan saw his father’s blade tear at the creature’s flesh. With a shriek it swiped one claw across his father’s face, then brought its paw back to strike him savagely in the side. He saw his father’s arm bend awkwardly against his body and the katana fall out of his hand. Sugimoto was thrown across the room to strike the wall and fall upon a shattered futon. Taikan cried his father’s name, glancing for an instant where the older man had fell.

An instant was too long. The beast roared, and pounced, its searing fangs sinking into Taikan’s chest.

The young Kaiu died with his father’s name still upon his lips.

The old Kaiu patiently led his horse through the twisting mountains, eyes fixed upon the road ahead.

“You should ride in the saddle, Sugimoto-san,” Kaiu Tasuku said, riding ahead without looking over his shoulder. “You will tire less swiftly.”

“I prefer to walk, Tasuku-sama,” he said with a chuckle. “The horses can move no more quickly than I in these mountains. If I tire I can always climb in the saddle.”

“You push yourself too hard, Sugimoto,” Tasuku replied. “You need not prove yourself to me. I know you well enough not to discount you as a cripple.”

Sugimoto did not answer for a moment. “I do not wish to prove myself,” he said quietly, “I merely wish to walk.”

It had been seven years since that terrible day in Otosan Uchi. Sugimoto had survived the assault on the Crab embassy, if only just. He awoke to find the Crab embassy filled with Imperial Legionnaires, an Isawa shugenja tending his wounds. They had arrived only just after the doors had fallen, and his fellow Crab had heard their battle cry from the tunnels. Pressed on both sides, the attackers were crushed. It was not until after the battle that any even realized that Sugimoto still lived. His face was badly burned by the demon’s claw. His right arm was shattered, and even with magical healing he would never wield a sword again.

In any other clan he might have entered early retirement, but the Crab did not discard their servants so easily. Sugimoto was a Kaiu, and in his youth he had studied armorsmithing. Now he assumed that role once more. He was apprenticed to his younger cousin, a smith by the name of Tasuku. Though his right arm was almost useless, he wielded the hammer with his left, beating rough steel into tough metal shells that would preserve the lives of Crab warriors. It was difficult, punishing work but it was rewarding. Sugimoto now owned a suit of armor crafted by his own hands, as did many of the samurai that now marched among their retinue. Perhaps he was a warrior no longer, but to see his handiwork preserving the lives of other Crab allowed him some measure of pride. He had even put aside the deaths of his wife and son, for a time, finding peace in the fact that both of them gave their lives for the good of the Empire.

“Something bothers you, cousin,” Tasuku said, still looking straight ahead as he rode. “It may do you good to speak of it.”

“I am concerned for our mission, Tasuku-sama,” he replied.

“Oh?” Tasuku replied. “Why is that?”
“The last time I attended a diplomatic retinue it ended poorly,” Sugimoto answered.

“This will not be like Otosan Uchi,” Tasuku replied. “The Badger Clan merely requires aid in disposing of some troublesome barbarians, nothing more. Our warriors are well suited for that brand of diplomacy.”

“But why dispatch us?” Sugimoto asked. “Is this not a matter more suited to the Imperial Legions?”

“The Badger do not feel the Legions have their best interests in mind,” Tasuku replied. “This is not surprising. Decades ago the Badger were nearly wiped out by Hideo no Oni. It is only the fact that their lands are so remote and desolate that few cared to threaten their holdings. It is only the indifference of their Unicorn and Dragon neighbors that has allowed the Badger to keep what is theirs. If the Emperor should learn they can no longer protect their borders from outsiders, he may withdraw the mercy his father showed them by allowing them to retain their Minor Clan status. They dare not turn to the Unicorn or Dragon Clan for aid, lest the temptation to conquer their lands prove too great, especially in the wake of the Khan’s recent antics. Their Minor Clan allies are too small and weak to truly help them. Thus they turned to the Crab, the clan from which the first Badger arose centuries ago, to aid them.”

“The Khan’s antics?” Sugimoto replied. “The Unicorn are our allies; is it right to speak of them so?”

“Don’t remind me,” Tasuku replied, scowling back at Sugimoto. “We offer Kaiu siege engineers to perish in Unicorn wars. We give Kaiu stone to build a wall to protect Moto lands. Kuon sends his own son to train among the Shinjo, as if the Crab could not teach him all he needs to know. I do not know why our lord caters to the whim of those uncouth barbarians.”

“Perhaps because Lord Kuon’s father was a Unicorn,” Sugimoto answered, his voice a bit terse. “Perhaps because when the Shadowlands conquered the Kaiu Wall, only the Unicorn stood beside us. Perhaps they are our allies because they have earned such respect.”

“You see allies, I see opportunistic barbarians,” Tasuku said. “Rina-chan died upon the Kaiu Wall. Consider that perhaps she would not have died if the Unicorn had sent more than the smallest of their three armies to help us.”

Sugimoto’s face darkened. He did not appreciate Tasuku bringing his wife into the discussion in such a manner. “You should not question Lord Kuon’s will,” he said. “He is our master.”

“And I am your master, Sugimoto,” Tasuku shot back. “And while Kuon may lead us today, there are others who are more worthy.”

Sugimoto frowned. “You speak of Kisada,” he answered.

“Who else?” Tasuku replied, glancing back again with a ferocious grin. “The Great Bear walks among the living once more! The man who would rule the Empire today if Fu Leng had not struck him down. The man who pushed the pain of the Dark God’s wounds aside and planned the Thunders’ victory! The man who conquered death itself to return to his clan in its time of greatest need. The man who should lead the Crab. The Great Bear!”

“But Kisada does not wish to lead us,” Sugimoto replied. “He denied the Championship.”

“And modesty is also a sign of greatness,” Tasuku answered. “Nonetheless he gathers an army, and there are many who would follow him. Many more than you would expect. I would guard your words well before you defend Kuon too fiercely, apprentice.”

Sugimoto said nothing, though he noted a few of the other Crab guards shot dark looks back at him.

“In any case we should not speak of such worldly matters,” Tasuku continued. “We must be at peace with one another, lest our true goal elude us.”

“Our true goal?” Sugimoto asked.

“Enlightenment,” Tasuku answered with a chuckle.

Sugimoto said nothing, only waited in confused silence.

“Surely you have heard of Rosoku, the descendant of Shinsei,” Tasuku said. “He has offered a challenge to the Empire, a quest for true enlightenment. One of those challenges you may find as interesting as I… ‘The smith who can craft a helmet strong enough to shatter one thousand blades shall keep the Book of Earth.’ What better challenge for a Kaiu? I pondered this challenge for many months, and believe I have discovered the solution. There was a rare iron ore once found within the Badger’s mountains that I believe, when worked upon Kaiu’s own forge, may produce a helm strong enough to meet the challenge. If we help the Badger, surely they will provide us with a supply.”

“So that is why we are here?” Sugimoto asked. “You wish to become the Keeper of Earth?”

“Not I,” Tasuku said, looking back at his cousin again, “but it would be quite a worthy gift for the Great Bear, don’t you think?” Tasuku’s face broke into a wide grin.

Sugimoto returned his master’s smile, though he did not share his joy. He led his horse onward through the mountains in silence.

Though he was well used to the rocky and arid territory the Crab called home, the desolate lands of the badger made Sugimoto’s homeland seem lush and fertile by comparison. He had no idea how the Badger could live in such terrain, but quickly learned that they did not. Usually only a handful of Badger samurai and peasants lived in these blasted hills. The rest worked as mercenaries in dozens of far flung locations throughout the Empire. Their work earned food and resources to be shipped to their brethren, who were too proud to leave their mountains behind. Today, however, he saw dozens of armed and mounted Badger samurai patrolling the hills in small groups.

Shiro Ichiro was more of a corpse than a castle. The walls were still broken in many places and entire wings were still uninhabitable and closed to visitors. Hideo no Oni had done thorough work, and the survivors could afford to do little more than move the rubble aside. They had done a respectable job, considering the circumstances. Sugimoto’s trained eye noted many weaknesses in the ravaged walls that had been shored with improvised materials. Many gaps in the wall were clearly intentional, the stones moved to more strategic areas that the oni had breached. The castle was far from perfect, but it was defensible. It was solid work. Crab cunning and determination clearly ran strong in the Badger Clan’s veins. Even yet, he could see many ways that their repairs could be improved. He noted a wooden support beam leaning at an odd angle and so intent was he that he nearly ran over a young woman hurrying the other way as he approached it.

“Sumimasen,” he said, quickly moving out her path.

“Fortunes, another Crab oaf,” she swore back at him, though she quickly collected herself and flushed with embarrassment when she noticed his courteous apology. “Curse my hasty tongue,” she added. “I meant no offense, but your brethren have tried my patience today.”

“Master Tasuku-sama can be a difficult man,” he replied with a small smile. He glanced at her dark green robes, the symbol of a smiling tortoise emblazoned over her heart. “You are far from White Stag, Kasuga-chan,” he said.

She flashed a pleased smile. “You know of my clan and family?” she asked. “I am Kasuga Mino, daughter of Kasuga Taigen, Lord of the Tortoise.”

“I was once stationed in Otosan Uchi as a Crab ambassador,” he replied. “I am Kaiu Sugimoto, cousin and apprentice of Kaiu Tasuku, and I have known many worthy Tortoise bushi.”

“You flatter me, Crab,” she said. “Few Great Clan ambassadors associate with my clan. Fewer still would consider my brothers worthy.”

“Then you are unfamiliar with the finer points of Crab diplomacy,” he answered. “After a day of dealing with Otomo bureaucrats, the sake houses were always my primary destination. The best such establishments, I found, were always in the harbor where the Tortoise made their homes.”

“That was a long time ago,” she replied sadly. “Otosan Uchi is no longer as it was. I try not to think of those days.”

“Such tragedies should not rob us of our memories,” he replied, “but make them even more precious.”

“Then rejoice, Crab,” she said bitterly. “Your cousin Tasuku is about to create many precious memories for the Badger Clan.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You do not know what your master has done?” she asked.

“He has told me very little,” Sugimoto confessed.

“The Badger Clan are on the brink of war with the Yobanjin,” she replied. “Why do you think so many of their wandering mercenaries have returned? Months ago the Badger discovered an untapped vein of jade within these lands. As they prepared to reveal this treasure to the Emperor, the cave mysteriously collapsed, killing dozens of miners. Several Yobanjin raiders were seen riding away from the site. Ichiro Jinzaburo blames the barbarians for the mine’s destruction.”

“It stands to reason,” Sugimoto said. “The Yobanjin have always been enemies of the Empire.”

“Always?” she retorted. “You know nothing. Your clan befriends the Unicorn yet believes all Yobanjin are untrustworthy? Hypocrisy. All barbarians are not alike, Sugimoto. There are many tribes among the Yobanjin, more tribes than clans among the Empire. Not all of them are aggressive. The Mountain Wind Yobanjin are a peaceful tribe. Their scouts were in the area because they were tracking a demonic creature, a creature they claim destroyed the mines and slew the miners within. Though no Badger samurai witnessed it, the Mountain Wind scouts have described the creature to me. Its description matches that of Hideo no Oni perfectly, but Ichiro Kihongo will not listen to the testimony of Yobanjin. He does not wish to believe the beast that devoured his clan has returned. It will hide in the shadows and watch the Badger samurai and Mountain Wind destroy one another, and your cousin Tasuku will aid this demon’s plans in return for a sack of iron.”

Sugimoto said nothing. He trusted his cousin and his kinsmen. Though he truly did have many friends among the Tortoise he also knew their reputation for unsavory and dishonorable behavior. Though there seemed to be no dishonesty in her words, he did not wish to trust her. How could he? How could he favor this strange woman’s words over his own cousin?

“Your face,” she said quietly. “The scars you bear. Did you fight in the Battle of Otosan Uchi?”

Sugimoto’s left hand moved to his face without thinking. “Yes,” he said quietly. “I died there, in every way that matters.”

“Then help me,” she said, her voice pleading. “There must be a way, Sugimoto. We must spare the Badger Clan and the Mountain Wind Yobanjin the same fate.”

Then he realized the truth. There was no dishonesty in Mino’s words, but the truth was very difficult. It would be far easier to simply step aside and let his cousin have his way.

Since when was duty ever easy?

“Tell me more about what these scouts claim they have seen, Mino,” he said.

In the heart of Shiro Ichiro, Kaiu Tasuku and Ichiro Jinzaburo planned the assault to come. A large table lay out before them, bearing a detailed map covered with small wooden figures. It described the surrounding province as well as the numbers and arrangements of Badger troops and known Yobanjin encampments. In the shadows of the chamber, Ichiro Kihongo, elder lord of the Badger Clan, watched them form strategies in dark silence.

“Their camps are here, in the southwestern edge of this valley,” Jinzaburo said, pointing at the map. “My men know the area well. These people are nomads, raiders, unaccustomed to a fair fight.”

“Excellent,” Tasuku replied. “If your horsemen attack from the east, they will be forced to flee from this end of the valley. I will have an adequate welcome prepared for them. My lieutenants have already begun the task of training and arming your peasantry. The Yobanjin will flee to safety and find a thousand blades raised against them.”

“Perhaps we should consider the Kasuga’s words,” Kihongo offered softly. “These lands have known too much bloodshed. We should offer the Mountain Wind an opportunity to surrender, to atone for their crimes.”

“To atone for the murder of sixty Badger Clan miners?” Jinzaburo asked. “Kihongo-sama, the Yobanjin know to surrender for such a crime means death. If we offer them mercy they will only flee and return with more of their barbarian brothers. We cannot act with the same honor towards them that we would show samurai.”

“Act with honor?” Kihongo said with a sigh. “What a desperate time we live in when the Badger must choose to ‘act’ as if they possessed honor.”

“I chose my words poorly, my lord,” Jinzaburo said. “I mean only that we cannot afford mercy. If our positions were reversed, we would be shown none.”

“You must trust my strategy in this, Kihongo-sama,” Tasuku said. “The Crab are well used to fighting creatures without a shred of honor.”

“Then let us hope I have the courage to face one now,” Sugimoto said darkly. The old Crab pushed the door open and stepped into the chamber. He was dressed in his full armor, as the officers were, cradling his helmet under one arm.

“Ah, my cousin, Sugimoto,” Tasuku said with a short bow. “He was gravely wounded in the Battle of Otosan Uchi and left a cripple, unable to fight. Even yet, his counsel may aid us.”

“I certainly hope so,” he replied. “A demon, the height of six horses,” he recited, “its eyes twin pinpoints of yellow flame, its flesh sculpted from the twisted, dismembered bodies of countless corpses. It carried the stench of rot and sulfur in its wake.” His eyes fixed upon Ichiro Kihongo. “Kihongo-sama, does this creature sound familiar to you?”

Kihongo paled. “That is Hideo no Oni,” he replied, “the demon that slaughtered my clan.”

“That is the creature the Yobanjin scouts described fleeing from the mines,” Sugimoto replied.

“Lies,” Tasuku replied with a snort. “They could have heard the beast’s description in any number of legends.”

“What legends?” Sugimoto retorted. “The Badger do not speak openly of their shame. Even Kasuga Mino learned this tale only after years of friendship with the Badger Clan. Why would they describe the demon they created to barbarians?”

“Created?” Kihongo gasped, face growing red. “Crab, I hope that you do not mean to imply that a Badger was responsible for the demon that murdered our children and savaged our lands?”

“I hope you would not deny it,” he said, fixing a level gaze on the daimyo, “Not to a warrior charged with protecting the Empire from such menaces. I have researched your ancestry, Kihongo. There was a prominent Badger samurai named Hideo who died mysteriously during the demon’s assault. We Crab know how oni are created, Kihongo-sama, how they take the names of men. I do not blame you for your kinsman’s crimes, but neither will I allow you to deny them in my presence. Is that clear?”

Jinzaburo looked quickly at his lord, as if waiting for the command to strike down this impudent cripple. Kihongo only nodded weakly and bowed his head in shame. “He is right,” he whispered. “Sugimoto is right.”

“It does not matter whence this demon came,” Tasuku hissed. “Perhaps it is in league with these barbarians. They are a menace that cannot be ignored!”

“Not if you are to be rewarded with your precious ore,” Sugimoto replied. “Look past your own arrogant needs and remember your duty, cousin. We are the Crab. We fight the Shadowlands. You know how the enemy works, turning allies against themselves, weakening one another, as it did in the Clan Wars. Your hero, Kisada, once died to their machinations. Would you let Hideo destroy the Badger again for your own prideful arrogance when the Yobanjin stand ready to help them fight this menace?”

“You question my duty, cripple?” Tasuku snapped. “I should be lectured on what it means to fight the Shadowlands by a man who failed to protect his family twice?”

“By a man whose wife and son have shown him the meaning of sacrifice!” Sugimoto slammed his helmet upon the table before them, scattering the wooden figurines and tearing the map. “You have forgotten your duty and your honor, cousin. If you would lead the Badger into this battle, then you have forgotten the oaths Kisada made, oaths never again to aid the Shadowlands. You have no right to call yourself Crab.”

Tasuku looked down at his cousin’s helmet. His face spread in a thin smile. “You would challenge me, Sugimoto? You cannot even wield a sword.”

“Then kill me,” Sugimoto hissed, “and see if the Badger will still follow you.”

The old Crab’s words echoed in the darkened chamber. Ichiro Kihongo slowly rose from his seat and turned, showing his back to Kaiu Tasuku. Jinzaburo did the same, stepping to his lord’s side as they exited the chamber. Tasuku’s smirk faded into an uncomfortable frown. His shoulders slumped and he bowed his head.

What was most surprising was what came next.

“You are right, cousin,” Tasuku said in a low voice. “I have been a fool. Now let us help the Badger find a way to kill this demon.”

Weeks Later, Kyuden Hida…

“We did not find the oni” Kaiu Tasuku said, reading the report he clutched in one hand, “Though we found large tracks leading north over the mountains. We believe the creature was indeed waiting for the Badger and Yobanjin to weaken one another before striking again. When instead they joined forces, it fled the Empire.” He rolled the parchment and tucked it under one arm. “My vision became clouded by greed, Lord Kuon. My cousin reminded me of my honor at a critical moment. If not for him my actions would surely have destroyed the Badger Clan. I have shamed my family.”

“Shame is the fruit of failure,” Hida Kuon replied. “You did not fail, Tasuku.” The massive lord of the Crab Clan glared down at Tasuku and Sugimoto from his seat.

“I… no, my lord, I did not fail,” Tasuku said weakly, “though by no strength of my own.”

“Each stone in the Kaiu Wall rests upon another, Tasuku,” Kuon rumbled. “In the end, you heeded his counsel. One day your cousin may come to lean upon you.”

“Yes, my lord,” Tasuku said quietly.

“Anything more to report?” the Crab Champion asked.

Tasuku glanced at Sugimoto, who stepped forward with a nod. “During our explorations of the collapsed jade mine, we found something,” Sugimoto said. “We did not report it to you for fear the communication would be intercepted.”

“Oh?” Kuon said, turning to Sugimoto. “What could be of such value to inspire such discretion?”

“This, my lord,” Sugimoto said, holding forth a thick cloth bundle.

The Crab Champion accepted it carefully, peeling the cover away to reveal an ancient book bound in dark vellum and steel. The symbol of earth was stamped upon it.

“Which of you found this?” he said, looking up at them carefully.

“I did, my lord,” Sugimoto answered. “It is Rosoku’s Book of Earth. I know not why it was in those caverns, but it is my gift to you, Lord Kuon.”

Kuon chuckled. “Such things are not yours to give,” Kuon said. “Offer me instead your service, Keeper of Earth.” The Crab Champion tossed the heavy book into the air. Sugimoto awkwardly caught it with his good arm, stumbling backward with a grunt.

“Congratulations, Sugimoto-san” Kuon added dryly, lips curled in a proud smile. “Tasuku, you may go. I have more words for your esteemed cousin.”

“Yes, my lord,” Tasuku said, voice still dry. He bowed a final time and left the chambers.

“Our friends among the Crane Clan extend their best wishes,” Kuon said.

“The Crane?” Tasuku replied, confused.

“It seems the Tortoise are not the only ones with secret Yobanjin allies,” Kuon said. “The Doji have been working for months to foster good relations with the Mountain Wind Tribe. By saving the Yobanjin you have not only saved the Badger Clan as well but preserved their efforts and possibly prevented the Crane from seeking retribution against us for interfering in their diplomacy. Such efforts would have ended poorly for them, of course, but they serve better as allies than enemies. For your efforts, they have shared the truth of their alliance with us and also wish to offer you a gift, Sugimoto-san.”

“A gift?” Sugimoto replied.

“Indeed,” Kuon answered. “The Crane feel it is not right that such a noble servant of the Crab Clan has gone unmarried for so long. They have offered to arrange a marriage on your behalf, one that will greatly benefit the Crab. The bride, I think, is a woman you are already familiar with – Kasuga Mino, the daughter of the Tortoise daimyo.”

“I… will have to think about it,” Sugimoto said softly.

“This is not an offer, but a command,” Kuon said. “You are an Elemental Keeper now, Sugimoto. Soon all of the Empire will know, and others will seek to manipulate and control you. Not only will a marriage prevent others from seeking to saddle you with a controlling spouse, but believe me when I say a clever wife will be your greatest ally against such forces. Mino is a good woman, and a good match.”

“I will remember that,” Sugimoto replied, still stunned by the news.

“Then begone, enlightened one,” Kuon said sharply. “I have much yet to do today.”

The Keeper of Earth nodded, bowing deeply to his champion. He turned and left the chamber, cradling the heavy Book of Earth in one arm.