Ryoko Owari, month of the Goat, year 1168

The temple district of Ryoko Owari was generally a quiet place; the City of Green Walls was not know as a center of piety. At night it was even more desolate. Bayushi Shinzo liked it that way. The time he spent in the temple of his ancestors, praying for strength and control, was his business alone.

As he walked across the open square in front of the Temple of Virtue, Shinzo became aware of a slim figure standing near the bottom of the temple's steps, directly in his path. He tensed slightly, discretely checking his weapons, and then relaxed as he recognized who it was. Whatever her business in the temple district was, Shosuro Maru was probably not here waiting to ambush him. Shinzo altered his path to avoid her, but then she turned her head and looked at him directly. He stopped a polite distance away and bowed deeply. "Good evening, Shosuro-sama," he said. He knew the woman only slightly, but he had no intention offending someone hailed throughout the Empire as a Champion of Bushido.

The courtier returned the bow more shallowly and smiled. "Good evening, Bayushi-san. It is a lovely temple, is it not?"

"It is," Shinzo agreed. "A fitting monument for a great man."

"Toku, Fortune of Virtue," Maru said thoughtfully. "The Righteous Emperor showed great wisdom in placing the Fortune of Virtue's first temple here."

Shinzo was a little startled at the idea. When he thought of it at all he had assumed that the temple's location was part of some exchange of political favors. "In what way, Shosuro-sama?" he asked.

The woman spread out her arms to indicate the city around them. “Who can appreciate the General’s achievement more than those who shared his lowly origins? Who can understand the strength of his soul better than those whose souls are tested daily? This city teems with men and women who constantly rise above vice.”

Shinzo shuddered imperceptibly. At one point in his most recent mission he had dangled from the rafters above an unexpected guard for a few agonizing minutes before the man had moved off to complete his patrol. Shinzo had been afraid that his hands would slip, afraid that the guard could hear the pounding of his heart, or smell the sweat that was soaking him. The fear had come to him often over the years. He had never permitted it to affect his work, and had become skilled in putting it aside, forcing it deep within him so that it could not interfere with the tasks he performed for the Scorpion. Between assignments, however, anxiety over his fear had come to haunt his every moment. It was for this reason that he spent so many hours in prayer, seeking to overcome his weakness. The very idea of seeking strength from such an experience was madness.

"I thank you for your insight, Shosuro-sama," he said, bowing. "I will be certain to meditate on your words. For now, I fear, I must be off to my duties."

"Of course," Maru said politely. "Carry the fortunes, Bayushi-san." She watched him hurry off into the darkness of the night, and for a moment her eyes glittered. "You are a man of great potential, Shinzo," she said quietly. "Do not choose to waste it." Then she too vanished into the darkness.

Month of the Rooster, 1168

The voice was mellow and rich, and it flowed on with the subtle rhythms of a master storyteller or skilled teacher. It spoke of life. It spoke of death. It spoke of blasphemy and revolution.

"The samurai give themselves privileges and call themselves the children of the gods because their ancestors were formed by the blood of Lord Moon and the tears of Lady Sun. But what about you? Were your ancestors not formed of the same blood and tears?" The speaker leaned forward and lowered his voice slightly, causing his audience to lean in to hear him. "And are not Lord Moon and Lady Sun now dead, both slain by mortals? And do their killers not stand now in heaven as gods?" The speaker paused and looked around the room, catching the eyes of all the peasants who had crowded into the room. "And if Hitomi and Yakamo can rise above their station by means of bloodshed, why can't you?"

Shinzo knelt in the back of the room, his heart torn by fear, exultation, and some other emotion he couldn't quite identify. Of all the operatives Yudoka had sent out to find the source of the peasant rebellions he had succeeded first, and great glory awaited him when he returned to his lord with the news. Returning, on the other hand, could prove difficult. The dark, muscular man with golden eyes and ebony tattoos could only be Kokujin, the Mad Dragon, and Shinzo had heard too much about him to take such an enemy lightly. And the peasants around him...there was something about them that made him uneasy as well.

"That is all for tonight, my children," Kokujin said. "Go and think of what I have taught you, all of you...except him." He pointed at Shinzo. The Bayushi froze for a moment, registering the suspicious looks of the peasants around him, and then he prostrated himself on the floor. "Thank you, great prophet!" he said humbly. "I have many questions I wish to ask you."

"I am sure of that," Kokujin said with an indulgent smile. He waited until the room had cleared before he spoke again. "So, little Scorpion, what are your questions?"

Shinzo's heart gave a painful throb. "You honor me too much, great prophet," he said. "I am a farmer."

Kokujin laughed. "Your disguise is very good, Scorpion. Your clothes, your walk, everything about you labels you as a farmer. Except your heart, which is loyal to more than your fields, and owes fealty to more than your crops. You are no mere peasant.”

Shinzo considered this for a moment and then looked up to meet the other man's eyes. "And if I am?"

The tattooed man shrugged. "I will have to kill you, I suppose. Otherwise you will go to your lord and tell him where I am, and I am not yet finished here."

"And what are you doing here?" Shinzo asked. "Why do you--" He sprang in the middle of his next word, drawing a long knife out of hiding as he hurtled towards his target. There was a blur of motion, a confused sensation of strong hands grabbing him, and then Shinzo found himself bouncing across the floor, his knife skittering alongside him.

Kokujin sat back down. "I am crafting the peasants into an instrument of my divine vengeance," he said.

Shinzo rolled back to his feet, knife in hand. "Divine vengeance?" he said. He needed time, he thought; time to find a weakness, time to plan, time to master the fear that ran unchecked like acid through his veins.

"I do not wonder at your confusion," Kokujin said. "The Dragon Clan has done everything within its power to deny me the glory I deserve within the Empire--and for that they shall pay." His voice grew reflective. "When all the rice fields are ashen ruins and the armies of my worshippers storm their castles, will they still deny my divinity?"

With a smooth, swift motion Shinzo palmed a second knife and threw it. He followed it in, ready to take advantage of the moment of distraction it caused. Kokujin batted the thrown knife aside and then sprang to his feet. He seized his assailant by the right arm and threw him over his head, twisting the arm as he did so. Shinzo made a short, involuntary shriek as he hit the floor, feeling the pain of tearing muscle. Kokujin then pulled him up by the same arm and flung him across the room. Shinzo bounced off of a support pillar and collapsed, his mind reeling from the speed and power of the monk's attacks. Could Kokujin really be a god? He had not thought so, but if the Dragon opposed Kokujin, who would have spread the tale even if it was true? His knife clattered on the floor beside him, and he looked up to see Kokujin staring impassively at him from across the room. Shinzo felt the fear settle in his belly, then he shook himself, grabbed the knife with his left hand and started to push himself to his feet.

"And still you try to attack me?" The tattooed man started walking forward. "Still you deny my godhood?"

Shinzo barred his teeth. "Give my regards to Lord Moon," he spat.

Kokujin stopped, threw back his head, and laughed. "You do see that I am a god!" he said. "You are wise. I had not expected you to be so wise. Perhaps I have misjudged you?" He darted forward, disarming the Bayushi with casual ease and pushing him up against the wall. "What do you hide in your heart, Scorpion?"

Shinzo shrank back from him as far as the wall behind him would allow. The tattooed man's golden eyes seemed to drill in to him, pinning him far more securely than the hands that gripped wrist and shoulder. That thought was followed by another: his shoulder was pinned, but his damaged right arm was free to move. Gently he tried flexing his fingers, and then slowly he started to reach for the last weapon he had. It was a small blade, no bigger than a lady's bodkin, but the edge was fine and smeared with a poison finer still.

"You are a man of great potential," Kokujin said. He voice was now a low, base rumble, the voice a mountain would use if it deigned to speak to mortals. "Great potential, but with a weakness. You are filled with fear." He leaned in closer and Shinzo froze with his fingertips just brushing the hilt of the blade. "I can take it away from you."

"I do not fear you." Shinzo forgot about the blade, his whole world taken up by glowing, golden eyes and the painful booming of his heart.

“Of course you do,” the monk said with a smile. “You reek of fear. Let me steal it away.”

Shinzo gnashed his teeth. “You are nothing but a madman.”

"I am a god," Kokujin said patiently. "Have you not seen the courage of my worshipers? Why do you doubt me? All you need to do is agree, and I will do this for you."

Shinzo stared at him for a long time, hardly daring to breathe. He thought of the fearlessness of the peasants involved in the uprisings, and wondered what he could accomplish with that kind of fearlessness. Could he endure Kokujin’s madness long enough to learn it, and still survive to fulfill his duty?

"Yes," he finally said. “I accept.”

Month of the Boar, 1168

Shosuro Yudoka slid the door of the hut aside and looked out. It was a clear day, with thin winter sunshine pouring down on fields that held only the stubble of harvest and a few hopeful sparrows. He scowled at the deceptive peacefulness of the sight. It was faint on the wind, but he thought he could just detect the smell of burnt granaries. Two villages to the north had rebelled the previous week, and in the battle to restore order both had been set to the torch. "You are certain he is their 'great prophet'" he said.

"Yes, Shosuro-sama," Shinzo said.

"A student of Kokujin," Yudoka said. He turned back into the room and walked to where his pole arm leaned against the wall. "And you know where he is now,"

"Yes, Shosuro-sama," Shinzo said.

Yudoka picked up the weapon, reflexively checked the condition of the blades. "We go, then. We'll end this insanity now."

"Shosuro-sama, just the two of us? This man could be dangerous."

Yudoka looked the younger man over and was pleased to note that he showed not even a flicker of fear, just concern over the success of the mission. "If we wait for reinforcements he might move on, and then we will be forced to start the search all over again." He waved his weapon slightly. "We will use a strategy that has served our clan well--one man to engage the front, the other to strike from behind."

Shinzo bowed slightly. "As you say." He rose and led the way out the door.

The two man ran swiftly, Shinzo in the lead. The land around them changed from fields to sparse woods, and they had come near to the center when the two men heard the sounds of combat. Shinzo stopped and looked at Yudoka, real concern in his eyes. "The place is just ahead--but I do not know what is going on up there."

Yudoka shrugged slightly. "Many patrols went out after the uprising, perhaps one of them found this place. Whoever it is, this conflict favors us; the confusion it is creating will provide cover. We strike now." They began running again, Yudoka continuing straight and Shinzo peeling off into the brush.

After a minute Yudoka ran into a large clearing. Small groups of fighting men, peasants and Scorpion bushi, were scattered across it. At one edge was a small platform and sitting on it was a dark, tattooed man with shaven head and golden eyes, who watched the combat with the air of a sensei evaluating some unpromising students. Yudoka altered his path to head directly at the platform. He had gotten within twenty paces of it when a peasant armed with a crude spear charged him. The Shosuro tipped the spear aside and continued the arc of his swing to bring the weapon's other blade to bear, slicing open the man's abdomen and dropping him to the ground. Ignoring the writhing man's dying screams, Yudoka glanced over at the now-empty platform and immediately swung about with his weapon. The tattooed man jumped back from the bloody blade's path and smiled.

"Have you come seeking enlightenment?" he asked.

"Of a sort," Yudoka replied. He charged. His opponent slipped aside, picked up a spear up from the ground and made a countering feint. The two men circled each other, probing and testing, but neither willing to commit yet to attack. Finally, from the corner of his eye, Yudoka saw the flicker of motion that told him Shinzo was in place. He smoothly switched into an attack stance, took two steps and then stumbled from a blow to the back. He tried to catch himself and failed, his mind suddenly taken up by a sudden inability to breathe. He looked down as he slid to his knees and saw three inches of a ninja-to sticking out of his chest.

"You have done well," the tattooed man said.

"Thank you, Kokujin-sensei," Shinzo said.

Blood welled up in Yudoka's mouth and with it came pain. "Kokujin," he tried to say, but he couldn't find the strength.

The Mad Dragon shook his head. “You, and all like you, are weak. You are unwilling to do what must be done to excise your weakness. Your student was strong enough to seek the true path, although secretly he hoped to return from it. He clearly no longer wishes to do so.” Kokujin handed the spear to Shinzo. "Finish him," he said. Shinzo kicked Yudoka over and unceremoniously drove the spear into the other man's stomach. Yudoka died praying to his ancestors, praying that Shinzo would take a very long time to die when they finally took him to the Grove.

Kyuden Otomo, Month of the Rat

Bayushi Paneki removed his cloak and draped it over the screen absently. He could spare an hour, no more, and then the trek back to the Scorpion lands would have to begin if the worst of the winter storms were to be avoided. He had come in secret, and none save Kaukatsu knew the identity of the Scorpion messenger that had arrived with a personal guard. The rumors of his identity and the message he bore would likely keep the court abuzz for days.

The screen slid open and an older woman clad in earth-tones entered. She looked at Paneki with a curious expression, perhaps with a touch of annoyance. She was not the sort accustomed to being hastily summoned, after all. Then a spark of recognition flared in her still-bright eyes. “Paneki-sama,” she said in a hushed voice, quickly bowing. “What are you doing here?”

“Inao-sama,” he said, bowing respectfully. “Please, rise.”

“My lord, forgive my presumption, but it is unusual to find you here at such a time. I had heard that you were overseeing the Scorpion response to Crab aggression.”

“I am,” Paneki answered. “I needed to see you, if only for a moment.”

“But the weather,” she began.

“Will hold for the few moments I need,” he answered quickly. “I needed to see you. I bring unfortunate news.”

The Monkey Champion’s eyes narrowed. “My daughter is safe in your care, this much I know,” she said. Her eyes widened suddenly and she brought a hand to her face. “Yudoka?”

Paneki bowed his head. “Your brother has been lost,” he said quietly.

Inao quickly opened a fan, but not before the Scorpion Champion saw her anguished expression. “May I know how?” she asked.

“He was betrayed,” Paneki answered, his tone grave. “He was betrayed by one of his students, and murdered by the madman Kokujin. We have not found his remains, but his weapon…”

Inao shook her head. “My brother would not relinquish Pincers & Tail while he yet lived.”

Paneki nodded. “He was my most loyal servant,” he said quietly. “He was my steadfast advisor, and… my friend. I am sorry, Inao-sama.”

She said nothing for several minutes. “My husband has been lost,” she whispered. “My daughter will marry into the Bayushi house, and I shall rarely see her again. And now my brother. There is little left to me.”

“Your sons,” Paneki remind her. “They are noble men. Draw your strength from them.”

“Perhaps… perhaps it is time that I took my leave of the affairs of the Empire,” she said. “My sons are strong, as you say. Perhaps it is time for them to rule the Monkey Clan in my stead.” She looked up at the Scorpion lord. “I could do that, if I knew but one thing. If I were promised but one thing, from the Master of Secrets, the man who has already pledged to protect my beloved daughter.”

“Ask me, and it will be done,” Paneki said.

Inao closed her fan, and the sorrow and grief he had seen only a moment before was gone. “Promise me,” she whispered, “that the man that betrayed my brother will suffer.”

Paneki’s eyes flashed. “Oh, I promise you that, Inao-san.”