By Shawn Carman

The events in this series of fictions take place in 1165, Month of the Rooster, a little over one year ago…

Duty

Kakita Korihime smoothed the fabric of her kimono with a practiced hand, permitting her to draw her blade with a moment’s notice. Over the course of the past year, the young Crane had learned to marry the traditions of a courtier and a duelist, confined as she was so frequently to court chambers. Her reputation, and if the rumors were to be believed, her beauty, caused her to be in high demand among various courts. Never inclined to turn away an opportunity to foster goodwill, the Crane lords responsible for her assignment used her popularity to benefit the clan. Instead of honing her art, she more often smiled and made idle small talk while occasionally performing exhibitions of skill for whatever lord she was visiting at the time. To some, the pampered luxury to which she had become accustomed would seem like a dream. To a warrior like herself, it was a wretched existence, and one she would gladly forsake if there were but an opportunity to do so.

Korihime sighed quietly and took her blades from their stand. She tucked them neatly into her obi, grateful at least that the demands for her demonstrations allowed her to carry her katana into places where most were prohibited from doing so. If she could not carry her swords, she would not feel like a true warrior at all. That indignity, at least, she had been spared thus far.

The young duelist left her quarters, nodding absently at the deeply bowing servants as she exited into the busy street. She did not immediately head toward the Crane estate, however, turning instead to walk in the opposite direction, toward the temple she had taken to visiting each morning. It was not particularly large and certainly not as splendid as others found throughout the city, which meant that there were usually few people there. That was the main reason she had chosen it, hoping for a few more moments of serenity in her chaotic daily routine.

Korihime knelt in the Temple of Benten, closing her eyes and spending a few moments in communion with her ancestors. She prayed for strength, for guidance, and for the wisdom to choose her path carefully. She offered the same prayers every day. Today, like so many other days, she wondered if anyone was listening.

“What troubles you, daughter of Heaven?”

The young woman looked up at the elderly monk. He had greeted her many times, but they had never truly spoken. “I do not know,” she said finally, surprised by his strange greeting. “I feel as though I have lost my way.”

“How can you lose your way?” the man said. “Each way is our own. For you to walk a path is for that path to become yours. Perhaps you merely do not enjoy the life you have found for yourself? Perhaps you have taken the path of another?”

“It certainly feels that way,” Korihime nodded. She looked at the old man with a hopeful expression. “How can I find my way again?”

His smile was sad now. “Little harmony can be found in a place such as this. This city is a bastion of worldly concerns. In Toshi Ranbo, there is little serenity.”

“I have seen that,” she agreed.

“There is a village,” the monk said after a moment’s consideration. “It lies many miles from any other settlement of note, and is several days’ ride from any major city. There is a temple at the village’s center. Its beauty is like nothing I have ever known in this world.” He shook his head wistfully. “It was as a child, when I stood within that temple, that I first felt the Brotherhood’s call. I believe it is blessed by the Fortunes. Of course that was my path; yours may lay elsewhere.”

Korihime smiled sadly. “Thank you for your wisdom, brother, but I have duties. I cannot abandon them and seek this place, however much I may wish to.”

“A virtuous statement,” he said. “Yet to lose ones’ self embracing the path of virtue serves no purpose. There are many forms of duty”

The duelist rose and bowed quickly. “If you say so,” she said weakly. “Arigato, Brother.” She turned to leave, trying not to dwell on the cold, wretched feeling the monk’s words had left in the pit of her stomach.

She made her way back toward the Imperial Palace. In no particular hurry to arrive, she turned and made her way through one of the city’s many lush gardens. Pausing to study a delicate lotus beside the path, she caught the lopsided grin of a young Imperial Guardsman. She delivered him a long, cold stare till he found business elsewhere. She watched him leave, chuckling to herself as she absently tucked a strand of downy white hair behind her ear. She stopped as she caught sight of a familiar figure approaching down the path.

“Seishiro-sama,” she said suddenly, almost forgetting to bow. Doji Seishiro was one of the few members of the court she truly liked. He was a warrior, like herself, assigned to this place because he knew his clan’s allies and enemies better than any other.

“Hello, Korihime-chan,” the Crane statesman said, returning the bow. “I thought I might find you here.”

“Am I needed in court?” she asked reflexively. “I did not believe I was scheduled for anything for another hour.”

“You are not,” Seishiro said. “In fact, you are not scheduled for any appearances for some time. I have arranged for you to deal with pressing family business.”

Korihime frowned. “There is no business am I aware of, Seishiro-sama.”

“An excuse,” he said. “You are an exceptionally gifted young woman, Korihime, but a warrior cannot hide the truth from another. I have watched as your spirit waned in this place. I know the suffering you are experiencing. I endured it myself when I first arrived here. I eventually found a way to deal with it all, and now that time has come for you. Many young samurai undertake a pilgrimage to find their place in this world. I think such a journey would do you good.”

“There is no need,” she insisted. “I am needed here. I am fine, my lord.”

“No,” he said, “but you might be when you return.” He gestured to the man in the background. “Go, Korihime. Not even a warrior as gifted as you can survive with a flagging spirit. We will speak more when you return.”

“Where will I go?” she asked.

“That is for you to decide,” he replied. “Each of us must seek our own path.”

Korihime began to protest, but realized that she could not. She nodded as Seishiro departed. For almost an hour she sat in the garden, turning over her thoughts in her mind. Then, quietly and purposefully, she rose and returned to the Temple of Benten.

Courage & Honesty

Shiro Matsu could be an intimidating place, even for the most hardened veterans. The sheer volume of troops maintained in the barracks and their eternal, unswerving vigilance gave the place the feel of a war zone. This was of course exactly as the Matsu preferred it. Given the recent hostilities between the Lion and Unicorn over the City of the Rich Frog, it was no surprise that the atmosphere held such a charge. Ikoma Fujimaro had been in battle many times during his lifetime, and he had grown accustomed to the sensation. He relished it, even as he both celebrated and mourned the soldiers who would die in the coming conflict. Theirs was a righteous duty, to avenge those murdered by the Khan’s men. Among them was his friend, Akodo Ijiasu, one of the first soldiers to die.

But today was not a day for contemplation. Fujimaro had been summoned by the Golden Lion of Toshi Ranbo, Matsu Nimuro. Fujimaro had not spoken directly to his Champion in many years, since he had returned from hostile Phoenix territories with a number of lost Lion soldiers in tow. Nimuro had lauded Fujimaro’s courage and devotion. It was had been among the greatest moments of Fujimaro’s life, but it was in the past. The Phoenix were no longer his clan’s enemies, and many even in his own clan preferred to ignore Fujimaro’s deeds. He was a reminder of a war better left forgotten. Their opinions mattered little. Since then, he had executed his duties in the Ikoma provinces with a new sense of dedication, and now it seemed his dedication had been rewarded.

There was little in the way of waiting. Despite the obvious military preparations, it seemed that the Lion Champion’s business with Fujimaro was urgent. He quickly found himself ushered through the waiting chambers, past others who were clearly waiting for his lord’s attention, until he found himself in what must be Nimuro’s private war room.

A trio of tables dominated the room. Two were covered with extremely detailed maps. Fujimaro recognized the area as the western border of the Ikoma lands, where the City of the Rich Frog sat precariously between the two most powerful armies in Rokugan. The third was covered in individual scrolls, all scattered about with various stone markers that indicated individual units of soldiers. Fujimaro recognized the scrolls as scout reports. He had completed many in his youth.

“Fujimaro,” the Lion Champion said, glancing up from his work. An older Lion samurai sat just behind the Champion, watching Fujimaro with a suspicious eye. “I only sent for you two days ago. You never fail to impress with your speed.” Nimuro grunted and crumpled up a scroll, casting it aside and taking up a new one.

“If not for the rains, I would have arrived yesterday,” Fujimaro said simply. “How may I serve you, Nimuro-sama?”

“Are you familiar with Juujiro Mura?”

Fujimaro frowned. “I have heard of the village, my lord, but I have never been there.”

Nimuro waved the comment away impatiently. “What do you know of it?”

The old scout scratched his chin. “Crossroads Village lies north of the Lion border, near the foothills of the Dragon mountains. Despite the name, the village lies along no commonly traveled road, and has no strategic value.”

“Your intelligence matches mine,” Nimuro answered. “And yet, I have received a report that bandits operating in the area are actually disguised mercenaries, preparing for action near the City of the Rich Frog.”

“Dragon or Unicorn?” Fujimaro asked.

“We do not know,” Nimuro said. “My sources cannot determine that. My guess is that they are ronin, preparing to offer their services to whoever meets their price.”

“Ronin?” Fujimaro frowned. “I mean no insult, my lord, but if you tell me your sources perhaps I could inquire more deeply.”

“My sources are infallible,” Nimuro said bluntly. He glanced up at Fujimaro. “You disapprove of my secrecy?”

“It is not my place to approve or disapprove,” the scout answered. “Only to obey.”

“Speak,” Nimuro said with an annoyed expression.

Fujimaro looked down. “If I am to risk my life on the word of another man,” he said, “I like to know if that man is worthy of the trust.”

“Am I not worthy of your trust?” Nimuro asked.

“You are,” Fujimaro replied, “but the information you have given me is incomplete. You know that I could find out more.”

“Bold words,” Nimuro said with a nod. “Naďve, but bold all the same.” He gestured to the map on the middle table. “My sources are irrelevant. I need to know what is happening in that area, Fujimaro. If there are troops near Crossroads Village, I need to know who they are and what they are doing.”

“Of course,” Fujimaro said with a bow. “I will leave at once.”

“Wait,” Nimuro said, raising his hand. “How will you ascertain who our foes are?”

Fujimaro blinked. “You gave me a command,” he said. “I will fulfill it. I trust you, my lord. Now you must trust me.”

“Unacceptable,” Nimuro said sharply. He gestured, and another warrior stepped forward. “Matsu Masutaro will accompany you. He will aid you in your assessment.”

Fujimaro nodded sourly to the other Lion, who inclined his head respectfully. “What will Masutaro’s duties be?” he asked.

“You will find the bandits, and Masutaro will challenge their leader to a duel.”

Fujimaro could not keep the incredulous surprise from his face. “An unusual strategy. I confess I am uncertain what purpose that would serve, my lord.”

“The Unicorn prepare to strike,” Nimuro said. “We have little time for subtlety. Masutaro will act, and you will observe from hiding. If the bandits are merely bandits, they will cut Masutaro down where he stands. Then you will have your answer. If their leader answers the challenge, you will observe his technique and determine his clan affiliation.”

The scout glanced at Masutaro. The old samurai looked back at Fujimaro impassively. His eyes were dead and exhausted, but Fujimaro could read little of his mood. He turned to Nimuro once more. “Forgive me, my lord, but I know Masutaro-san,” he said. “He was a fine warrior in his prime, but given his age, what chance will he stand in such a duel?”

“Does it matter?” Masutaro asked. “If I am lost, what cost has the Lion paid? One more old samurai makes no difference. I do not fear death”

Fujimaro barely kept the shock and disgust from his face. He nodded mutely.

“Now go,” Nimuro commanded.

Compassion & Honor

The tent flap was pushed aside roughly, and two bushi stepped through. Shiba Danjuro waited impatiently for a moment then stepped inside to join them. The interior was small, and with three armored men it was extremely crowded. Danjuro glanced around for a moment and grimaced.

“You’ve done your duty, there is no danger here.” He gestured to the flap. “Now leave and let me investigate.” The two bushi nodded in deference and stepped back outside.

Danjuro had heard other bushi complaining about the luxurious tents that shugenja were given in the Shogun’s camps, but all things considered, he believed that the barrack tents actually offered more space, even if there was no privacy to be had. There was a tatami mat, a writing desk, and a small trunk to store one’s personal effects in. Beyond that, there was not even room to walk three steps across the breadth.

Danjuro knelt and looked through the various papers neatly stacked atop the desk. The shugenja assigned here had gone missing, and had not been seen for several hours. It was widely assumed throughout the camp that he had abandoned his duties, fearful of the dangers that could consume the Shogun’s forces here at the Kaiu Wall. Danjuro had hoped that was not the case. Danjuro had some experience with shugenja, serving as yojimbo to many in his career before he entered the Shogun’s service. He knew that they sometimes took on strange moods. Asako Katsuhito was a distant man who had seemed even more withdrawn in the past few weeks.

Danjuro carefully unrolled a scroll that sat atop the desk and read the message. He grimaced as he did so, for the scroll only confirmed the unfortunate reality he already suspected. He re-rolled the scroll and tucked it into his do-maru. There was nothing that could be done now, unless he could convince the Shogun to permit him to deal with the matter as he saw fit. It would be a difficult proposition, but he thought he could manage it.

He was admitted into Kaneka’s presence immediately. The Shogun reacted to the news as Danjuro expected.

“Desertion.” Kaneka’s voice was thick with boiling anger.

“Please, do not judge Katsuhito too harshly,” Danjuro insisted. “The matter is more complicated than that.”

“I fail to see how,” Kaneka said gruffly. “Asako Katsuhito is sworn to serve me and my forces, and now he has abandoned his oath.”

“He has suffered a moment of weakness because his oaths to you conflict with an oath he took at his gempukku, Kaneka-sama,” the Phoenix insisted. “We are fortunate the matter has not been a problem before now.”

Kaneka frowned. “Explain,” he demanded.

Danjuro drew a deep breath. “Katsuhito left a message behind. It reads ‘I cannot abide by what I have become. Forgive me.’ I think this is clearly a result of our duties on the Wall.”

“The Emperor assigned us to this task,” the Shogun said.

“Yes, and it has been a gruesome one,” Danjuro continued. “Though the Crab have attempted to keep our forces in reserve, we have witnessed more violence than a scholar such as Katsuhito might see in a lifetime, even given the wars my clan has experienced of late. The Isawa and the Asako are peaceful people, sworn to avoid violence at all costs.”
“The Isawa do not strike me as particularly peaceful sorts,” Kaneka said.

“You misunderstand them, my lord,” Danjuro replied respectfully. “When driven to defend himself, a Phoenix’s wrath is terrible indeed – for a Phoenix understands that by ending conflict swiftly and without question that peace can be restored. This is the Isawa way. The Asako, however, are far more passive. While the Isawa defend peace with violent retribution, the Asako recoil from violent conflict. For a man like Katsuhito, the horrors we see here would swiftly become overwhelming.”

“He should have come forward,” Kaneka said. “He should have voiced his fears. We have many duties for an educated shugenja. He could treat the wounded, serve as a spiritual advisor, or perform any number of tasks.”

“A Phoenix does not admit weakness to outsiders,” Danjuro countered. “You may take the Phoenix name, but you know that many of my clan do not see you as a kinsman yet.”

“I am not to blame for their weakness,” Kaneka said.

“That may be,” Danjuro replied, “but you cannot deny that the perception of strength is important in an army such as yours. To ask for help would suggest weakness. Weakness would undermine his standing here, so he concealed his concern until it overwhelmed him. This is not a decision made in his right mind.”

“So rather than suggest weakness by asking for help, he proved his weakness by deserting us?” Kaneka said.

“I do not think so,” Danjuro said. “I think that in a way, Katsuhito has asked for help in a way that he felt you would understand – by admitting his weakness to you.”

Kaneka smirked. “You are an odd man, Danjuro. What would you have me do?”

“Permit me to find him,” Danjuro said. “I will speak to him, resolve his uncertainties, and return him to camp. He can make an accounting of his actions to you. If you find it necessary, I know that he will gladly accept punishment if such is necessary.”

“And how will you find him?”

Danjuro’s features grew taut. “Katsuhito is a pious man. I know the temples he frequented in the Crab villages near here. I believe I can find his trail there, and follow him wherever he has gone.”

Kaneka considered it for a moment then nodded. “Do as you must,” he said. The Shogun turned back to his scrolls. Danjuro bowed quickly and departed

Sincerity & Courtesy

Shosuro Maru reclined on the dais in the audience chamber of her private quarters. The day’s proceedings had been arduous, but rewarding. Her presence seemed to have had a pronounced effect upon several ambassadors to the Bayushi lands, making them all the more pliable for her allies in the court. Of course, no one could say for certain whether it was her skillful manipulation that made them so willing to help, or merely the rather generous cut of her kimono. In her mind, it made little difference in the end so long as the deed was done.

There was a rustling sound from the large window that gazed out over the castle’s eastern garden. Maru smiled at the familiar sound. “Enter, Muhito-san.”

A dark-clad figure emerged from the billowing cloth around the window. He stepped forward and knelt, bowing from the waist until his head nearly touched the floor. “Arigato, Maru-sama.”

“Of course,” she answered. “Tell me what you found.”

“I have, at your instruction, investigated every aspect of Yasuki Shikaro’s daily activities since his arrival here in Scorpion lands,” the warrior answered, his face inscrutable behind the fearsome mempo that concealed his features. “I have spent the last week following his movements, just as you ordered.”

Maru’s expression had grown dark. “Shikaro knew far too much about our plans for Ryoko Owari,” she said. “He made a mistake on more than one occasion, revealing the breadth of his knowledge with his arrogant comments, believing we would not learn how he learned of our plans. He is far too foolish to have learned our secrets alone. He is being aided by someone.”

“Yes, my lady,” Muhito agreed. He withdrew a scroll from within his kimono and offered it to her. “I have detailed every contact he has made with others in the past week. Most of them have proven to be unrelated to your work here, but there are some that will require your scrutiny.”

“Easily done,” Maru said, studying the list thoughtfully. “I confess I find it odd to see some of the names you offer me. I doubt any Scorpion is responsible.”

“We must be certain, my lady,” Muhito said. “To abandon vigilance is the greatest disloyalty.”

“Of course,” Maru said. “What else did you discover?”

“Shikaro visits the same shrine very day,” Muhito continued. “This is not uncommon, but the monks at the shrine report seeing Shikaro speaking to an unknown monk on several different occasions. This monk is not a brother of the shrine, and has no known affiliations.”

“Interesting,” Maru said. “You are certain of this?”

Muhito only looked at her impassively. No answer was required.

The courtier smiled. “A particular monk that no one knows will be difficult to find.”

“I do not believe that will be the case.” Muhito held out a hand. “This was found at the monastery. It does not belong to any of the monks, although one was able to identify it from a previous assignment.”

Maru lifted the small steel coin from Muhito’s hand and turned it over. “This was minted for taxes collected in unaligned lands,” she said. “I am not familiar with the kanji denoting the village’s name.”

“Crossroads Village, my lady,” Muhito said. “It is near the Lion-Dragon border, although far enough from the hostilities at the City of the Rich Frog that it should not be difficult for me to reach it.”

Maru ran a finger through her hair absently, considering the matter. “I shall accompany you this time, Muhito.”

“Do you think that is wise, my lady?” he asked at once. “The Lion are particularly sensitive just now, with the war. They will be suspicious of all travelers. I can avoid their scrutiny more easily alone, my lady.”

The slim courtier smiled. “Ever the diplomat, Muhito-san. Sometimes I believe you missed your calling, but then I recall the things you have done for me and I correct myself. No, I think the Lion will be amenable enough. Our cause is legitimate. They will suspect some ulterior motive, but so long as we give them no cause, they cannot bar our path without reason – and I would like to speak to this mysterious monk myself.”

Muhito bowed. “I will make the arrangements, if you wish.”

“Thank you, Muhito,” she said. “I will be ready to leave tomorrow.”