Of Blood and Secrets
By Rusty Priske
Edited by Fred Wan
Some months ago…
“Take everything you can and destroy the rest.” Mirumoto Kenzo spoke in grim tones but his face was expressionless.
“You would loot the great treasures of Gisei Toshi?” Shiba Marihito was aghast. “You are no better than Iuchiban’s hordes!”
“You do not understand, Shiba. We must keep these things out of the hands of Iuchiban. Those loyal to Rokugan would be well served to remember who the enemy is.”
Marihito stared at Kenzo for a moment and then nodded. He looked around the vault until his eyes alighted on the lone Isawa left as the last defender of the city’s secrets. “Isawa-san, the Dragon is right. We must remove everything that can be carried. Bundle up what you can and assign burdens to each we send in here.”
Isawa Hisayori stared at Marihito dumbfounded. Give the ancient secrets of the Isawa to Shiba? Or worse, to the Dragon? Still, Hisayori was not a strong man and the Shiba was quite insistent. Hisayori would do as commanded, but he would make the choices as to who would receive which items. He would not leave anything to chance. Too much could ride on each decision.
Later, as Hisayori lay dying from a chance encounter with one of Iuchiban’s minions, he thought that he should have taken then time to catalog what had been taken from Gisei Toshi. Now how would the Isawa know where to reclaim their secrets?
Hiruma Ashihei looked into the bag that the Isawa had thrust upon him. He had insisted that Ashihei take the scrolls to the Kuni for safekeeping until the Phoenix could reclaim them. What could be so important in the scrolls that they were more important than the defense of their city? The Phoenix were lucky that his unit had been working with the Dragon at the time of the attack. That allowed the Crab to join in the battle. It made no sense to send him away. Still, Ashihei had given his word and nothing could stop him from following through once he had done that.
The present
Kuni Kiyoshi stormed into the vault. He stopped briefly as he passed through the protective marks that ringed the room. He paid no attention to the four Kuni who stood vigilant outside of the marks. His focus was completely on the men who sat within. They were speaking in hushed tones as they leaned over a pile of scrolls, only one opened.
“Joben, Renjiro, why have you summoned me? What have you found?”
Kuni Renjiro jumped to his feet while his companion remained hunched over the scrolls. “We have had a breakthrough, Kiyosho-sama. As you are aware, Joben and I have committed all of our time trying to decipher the scrolls brought to us from the Phoenix. They are written in cipher and they have been very difficult to translate. As we were unable to consult with the Phoenix…”
Kiyoshi interrupted. “As you were told when you were given this assignment. The Kuni must uncover the secrets of these scrolls without outside interference. We are honor bound to keep them secret from everyone until such time as the Phoenix request their return. If we even mention them to the Phoenix, we will have failed in that. All we know is that the Phoenix deemed it important to keep these scrolls out of the hands of the Bloodspeakers. We need to know why.”
Renjiro eyes gleamed. “That is just it, Kiyoshi-sama! We have broken the pattern and we have found out what the Phoenix were hiding!”
Kiyoshi’s face stiffened. “So, what is it? What could be hidden in there that could threaten the empire?”
Renjiro paused and then said, “These scrolls appear to be writings by Isawa himself.”
Kiyoshi’s eyebrow shot up. “These would be holy writings to the Isawa. That explains why they would be sent away for protection. They were no threat at all.”
“That does not seem to be the case, Kiyoshi-sama.”
“What? There is something else?”
Renjiro nodded. “Isawa’s writings in these scrolls are about blood magic. He does not refer to it as maho, since the term was coined after his death, but the concepts he is discussing would clearly be labeled as such by us. What the Phoenix were hiding could condemn them in front of the empire.”
Kiyoshi shook his head slowly. “The Phoenix are always the target of our scrutiny. Their ties to maho are deep, even as they deny it. I now see why they did not want this to fall into the hands of Iuchiban. They should have destroyed them long ago.”
Kiyoshi and Renjiro looked at each other for a moment, both aware that there was a missing piece to the puzzle. The actions of the Phoenix seemed to make little sense.
“That they kept the scrolls for so long would explain why they didn’t destroy them when Iuchiban attacked.” Renjiro pondered. “The Isawa value all knowledge, even if others disapprove of its preservation. Some knowledge is too dangerous to be allowed to endure.”
Kiyoshi shook his head. “That is not it. Determining why they kept the scrolls intact is not the issue here. They do not think as we do, and if we discover that the Phoenix are covering Bloodspeaker activity or any research into blood magic, we will tear them down and turn the empire against them… and that is the question that needs to be asked.” Renjiro looked at Kiyoshi quizzically and the Kuni daimyo continued. “If the Isawa were hiding proof that they were studying blood magic, who would they least like to discover the fact?”
Renjiro nodded. “Us.”
“Correct. Yet, if the reports I received are true, when this Isawa Hisayori gave the scrolls to Hiruma Ashihei he asked him to bring them directly to the Kuni. Why would he do that?”
Renjiro shrugged. “Perhaps he felt that the Kuni needed to take action against the preservation of such knowledge.”
Kiyoshi shook his head. “That does not ring true to me.”
“Or,” the voice of the third man, Kuni Joben, interrupted them. “Maybe we did not truly understand what we have here.”
Kiyoshi stepped towards the table where Joben examined the scrolls. “What do you mean?”
“I have continued translating and while our initial assessment as to their subject manner was correct, there was more than we had yet to uncover. Isawa is speaking of blood magic, yes, but there is more. These scrolls are not about performing maho. They are about countering it. The scrolls seem to be full of methods to counter the tricks of the maho-tsukai. If we were to master what is written here…” Joben trailed off.
Renjiro’s eyes widened. “If that is true…”
Kiyoshi cut him off. “If that is true, that would explain why the Phoenix preserved this knowledge in spite of the danger of being condemned, and why they entrusted it to us. No other Clan appreciates the darkness that threatens us daily. This is a protection the other Clans would destroy out of hand. We will honor the wishes of the Phoenix here, by preserving and using this knowledge against the foes it was meant to fight.”
Useful
By Nancy Sauer
Edited by Fred Wan
Isawa Seiga urged his tired horse onward, cursing as he half-pulled the miserable creature along the forest path. He had ridden it until the horse was at the point of collapse, and now he had no choice but to walk until it could rest or he could find another steed. He cursed again. His pursuers had no problem finding fresh horses.
As he trudged along the path Seiga once again tried to think his way out of his problem. He was sure that his lady had enough power to deal with them, but if he led them to her he was equally sure she would feed him his own heart; Kinuye had no patience for useless servants. He did not have enough strength to deal with them, not without time to prepare and a few victims to fuel his rituals. Victims he could always find, but time was its own master. If he could shake off his pursuers he would have time to prepare a ritual, or make a run for the safety of his lady, but he had been trying to do that for three days now without success. His thoughts circled around themselves without ever coming closer to a conclusion.
The path rose gently as it made its way up a rolling hill through thinning trees. The horse apparently resented even this slight demand and began balking, forcing Seiga to pull harder and harder to get it to move forward. Near the top of the hill the beast stopped moving entirely. The tsukai cursed again and jerked on the reins. The horse pulled back, then abruptly tried to rear up. Pain shot up Seiga’s weak arm as the reins twisted it and he let go, falling forward in the process. The horse turned and ran with new energy down the hill. Seiga forgot it entirely, absorbed by what he could now see in the valley below.
Isawa Kimi stared upwards, torn between horror and admiration. From the base of the tower before her to its truncated top it was a wonder, a hymn to power composed of black polished rock. Every arc and plane in its design had been established to subvert the natural elements around it, and she could hear the delighted song of the kansen that swirled through its walls and turrets. “The Ruined Keep,” she said. “Life is full of surprises.”
“Surprise seems to be part of its nature,” Shiba Yoshimi said. He held his katana in a ready position, and regarded the tower with the same level stare he would use against an enemy on a battlefield.
Kimi always heard her yojimbo’s spirit as a taiko drum, and now it was beating out a statico rhythm of alarm. The shugenja listened for a moment, absorbing it and using it as a defense against the Keep’s seductive overtures. “Why is it here?” She gestured around the flower-filled valley that was dying around the tower’s base. “Why not the Shadowlands? Or the Kuni Wastelands? Or even Dragon Heart Plain?”
Yoshimi shrugged. “Perhaps Kinuye’s activities drew it. Seiga had to have been in this area for a reason. Or maybe we are just unlucky.”
Kimi thought back to the scattered snatches she had heard of the tsukai’s spirit. “I don’t think Seiga knew that it was here. And I think it is fortunate that we found it, before it could do more damage.”
“True,” Yoshimi said. “We must return to Quiet Forest Village and send word to the Masters. We shall have the magistrate and his men patrol the rim of the valley, to insure that no one goes near the structure.”
“No,” Kimi said. “We don’t have the time. Seiga may not have known it was here before, but he is in there now. We have to go after him.”
For the first time since they entered the valley Yoshimi turned his eyes away from the tower and looked at his charge. “Kimi-sama, that is not safe. It wants you. It will try to devour you. It is said that no one who has ever entered it has emerged.”
“We cannot allow a maho-tsukai to take control of the Keep,” Kimi said. “I recognize the danger, but think… the Keeper of Five dared the Shadowlands in defense of the Emperor and the Empire. Can we do any less?”
“No,” Yoshimi said. “But still, it would be best if I went in, and you stayed here.”
Kimi shook her head. “You can’t find him alone, and by now he might have something prepared. We will go in together, and protect each other from both the Keep and Seiga.”
The two Phoenix samurai approached the Keep carefully, alert for possible threats. The doors to the Keep stood ajar, and Yoshimi wondered if they had been left open by Seiga, or if the tower itself wanted them to enter. Kimi entered first, listening intently for sign of their quarry. Yoshimi followed, intent on anything else that might be lurking within the Keep. They wound through the dustless, empty halls, darkness swallowing the sound of their footsteps and the light of the small lamp that Kimi carried. They came to a wide foyer with a stairway going up, and the shugenja headed for it without hesitation. The song of the tower was almost deafening, but woven into it she could just hear the shrill piping of Seiga’s spirit. As they climbed the stairs the shrillness modulated and started to pattern itself after the tower’s melody.
“The Keep is affecting him,” she said.
Yoshimi grunted softly in reply. He hadn’t expected a maho-tsukai to hold out for long, and he didn’t expect Kimi to give in–but her kind of defiance would only make the Keep angry. “We will have to kill him, then. But what can we do about the Keep?” The shugenja didn’t answer.
At the top of the stairs Kimi turned left and entered a long room lit by windows. The walls and ceiling were decorated with carvings of goblins and other twisted creatures, and Yoshimi could feel their eyes upon him. “I think…” Kimi said, and then threw herself flat on the floor. Yoshimi’s katana sliced through the space she had occupied and swept up to meet something with leathery wings and a long bushy tail. The creature exploded in a shower of bloody gravel.
“You could have warned me,” Kimi said from the floor.
“Why?” Yoshimi asked, scanning the room for the next attack. “You never need it.”
Before Kimi could reply they heard a soft laugh and suddenly the carvings on the left side of the room began to come out of the walls and throw themselves at the two Phoenix. Yoshimi whirled into action, his spirit drumming out a call to arms. Kimi looked up towards the laugh and saw Seiga, bloody knife in hand, standing in the shadowed corner across from her. He smiled at her, slicing the blade across his arm, and she heard the wall behind her stir into life.
Kimi closed her eyes and concentrated. To formally invoke the elemental kami within the Keep was dangerous, but she listened to the soft chiming of the void kami swirling around her and knew that her friends had come with her. She hummed a silent accompaniment to Yoshimi’s drumbeat and the kami began to dance. There was a series of soft plops as the creatures intersected with the path of the dance and sand began to rain down around Kimi. She altered the tune and the kami began to move in larger arcs around her, encompassing Yoshimi and his opponents. The yojimbo had been holding his own, but one monkey-like creature had managed to wrap its arms and legs around the Shiba’s torso and was methodically trying to chew through his armor. As the creatures turned to sand Yoshimi paused for a second, then he charged across the floor towards Seiga with his katana held high. The tsukai slashed his arm again and started to babble something.
“I need him alive!” Kimi cried out.
Yoshimi twisted slightly in mid-charge, pulling his katana out of the way, and slammed Seiga into the wall. The two men slid to the floor and all was silent.
“How alive?” Yoshimi asked finally.
“Not dead,” Kimi said.
“You have him.” Yoshimi slowly got up, checking first himself and then Seiga for injuries. “But I think I’ve cracked some of his ribs. You Isawa are fragile.”
“He is no longer an Isawa,” Kimi said coolly. She rose and walked over to the unconscious man, listening hard. She could remember what Seiga’s spirit sounded like before he entered the Keep, and she could also hear the places where it had begun to change him. It could be done, she thought. It would take all of her skill, all the help her friends could give, but she could see a way it could be done. The void kami clustered around her, curious and willing, and she hummed to them a sample of what she needed. They responded, and she used their song to shape Seiga’s, making changes. The Keep tried to overwhelm her with sheer volume as she worked, but she turned it aside and wove it into the new pattern she was composing.
When Kimi finished she became aware that Yoshimi had grabbed her left hand and was holding it tightly in both of his. She smiled at him and he smiled back, relief plain on his face as he released her hand.
“Run,” Kimi said, and sprinted towards the door.
As they reached the top of the stairs the tremors began. By the time they got to the bottom the Keep had begun to quiver. They ran blind through the shaking hallways, guided by instinct alone. At one point Kimi missed a doorway and ran straight into a wall. She staggered and started to fall, but Yoshimi grabbed her and flung her across his shoulder like a bag of rice. As he ran towards the doorway they had entered he could see that the doors were still open. He could also see that the Keep seemed to be rising up off of the ground.
Spurred into a fresh burst of speed Yoshimi gained the doorway, and a quick glance showed that the Keep had only risen about fifteen feet. He uttered a brief prayer that the air kami cared for Kimi as much as he did and threw her out the door. He jumped next, careful not to land on her. Something caught him on the way down, slowing his fall, and he hit the ground with no worse damage than having the breath knocked out of him. He heard screams and rolled to his feet, looking for Kimi.
The shugenja was sitting on the grass, looking up. Yoshimi followed her line of sight and saw Seiga. The tsukai was screaming loudly and seemed to be clinging to a window sill. As the Phoenix watched the Keep stopped rising and began to move east, skimming over the tops of the trees. When it finally vanished from sight Yoshimi walked over to Kimi and helped her rise. “I wonder how long it will take him to jump?” he said.
“Never,” Kimi said. Her yojimbo gave her a curious look. “The Keep was changing him, making him a part of it. Perhaps no tsukai has ever set foot within it. I cannot say for certain, all I know is that it wanted him for some sinister purpose. It needed him to anchor it. If we had not arrived, it may have become a permanent blight upon the Phoenix lands, one we could never remove.”
Yoshimi frowned at the very thought. “That is not all, though,” he said. “You did something to him, did you not?”
The shugenja nodded. “I changed him so that he could not live within the Empire–so that he had to leave, and he took the Keep with him. It was bound to him by its own will, and now it is gone.”
“Cold,” Yoshimi said. “But still maybe better than he deserved; you’ve made him useful to the Phoenix.”
“Finally,” Kimi agreed. She wearily started walking away.
The Thrill of Adventure
By Shawn Carman
Edited by Fred Wan
The Northern Wall Mountains were vast and harsh beyond reckoning. Most paid the titanic expanse of stone little attention, since so few dwelled among them. The Dragon Clan dominated the range’s central portions, to be sure, and over the course of a thousand years they had more or less tamed them. The Spine of the World Mountains in central Rokugan were occupied in different places by no less than five clans, and over the years had been thoroughly mapped and worn down by constant travel and exploration. Likewise, the Twilight Mountains in the south had been so extensively mined by the Crab that they were well known and relatively hospitable as mountains went, despite their reputation for unnatural phenomenon. Not the Northern Wall, however. They were not of interest to the majority of Rokugan, since they served their purpose purely by creating a barrier between the Empire and the lands beyond. They stretched for hundreds of miles to the east and west of the Dragon provinces, largely unexplored and as jagged and dangerous as they had been during the dawn of time.
It was ironic, then, Ichiro Wotaru thought, that guard duty amid a realm so fraught with peril was so mind-numbingly boring. Each and every day he dutifully stood atop the southwestern cliff to ensure that no one could approach his family’s estate from this vantage point. It was rather ridiculous, really, since no sane human being would ever attempt to climb the cliff face in the first place. It was steep, jagged, and vastly taller than any other means of approaching the Badger province. Not even the clan’s hardiest mountaineers had ever attempted such a thing, not in the decade since the previous attempt where everyone involved in the act had died. Wotaru suspected that he had done something to anger his superior, because he could think of no other reason for him to have been banished to this miserable post every day for the past month. As Wotaru stood listlessly and imagined various ways he could overcome his as-yet-unidentified shame, a fist-sized stone flew up over the edge of the cliff, hung in the mid-morning air for just one moment, then fell clattering on the flat stone ledge at the Badger samurai’s feet.
Wotaru stared blankly at the stone for several seconds before he realized the implications. He drew his blade at once and retreated a few steps from the cliff’s edge. “You are encroaching in the domain of the Ichiro family, lords of the Badger Clan!” he shouted. He could not help but feel ridiculous as he shouted “Identify yourself!” into the empty mountain air.
There was a moment of silence, and then a voice drifted up from the cliff face. “If you could hold on just one moment,” someone said, strain evident in his tone, “I will introduce myself in person!”
“I am Ichiro Wotaru!” the Badger roared. “Sentry of Shiro Ichiro! Son of Ichiro…”
“Excuse me,” the voice interrupted sharply, “but is this really necessary? This cliff requires my concentration.”
Wotaru stood dumbfounded, his sword hanging limply in his right hand. He had no idea how to react to such a comment. Finally, he frowned and decided he would wait. If the individual climbing over the cliff turned out to be a threat, he could always knock him back off again once they reached the ledge.
A short time later, a hand appeared on the ledge, bringing Wotaru’s senses into sharp focus. His grip on his blade tightened, and he wiped the perspiration from his brow. A moment later, a young man appeared, carefully and painstakingly crawling up onto the ledge and exhaling shakily. He grinned as he began removing the cloth wraps from his hands. “I have to admit,” he said, “that climb was a great deal more difficult than I expected. It was probably the best I have had in years!” He looked around at the view behind him, peering over the edge without any apparent fear of falling. “It looks even taller from up here!” He stood up sharply and turned around, as if remembering something. “I am sorry,” he said with a quick bow. “You were going to say something about your father.”
“What?” Wotaru asked.
“Your father,” the stranger reminded him. “You are Ichiro Wotaru, sentry of Shiro Ichiro, son of… who, exactly?”
“Ichiro Katsura,” Wotaru said. “He was a blacksmith.”
“A noble pursuit,” the stranger said with a smile. He had what appeared to be a small kanji of some sort tattooed on his forehead. Wotaru had never seen the character before. “So tell me, Wotaru son of Katsura, are we near Shiro Ichiro?”
“Yes,” the sentry answered. As if from a great distance, he heard himself ask “Do you have travel papers?”
“Oh! Yes, of course. Forgive my poor manners.” The stranger dug around in the satchel at his hip and finally withdrew a scroll that had obviously been bent and folded several times.
Wotaru took the scroll and looked it over carefully. Most visitors were carrying papers issued by the Miya or Crab, the only two groups that visited with any regularity, but sometimes the Unicorn, whose lands were at the foothills far to the south and far below them, issued papers to travelers as well. Wotaru’s eyes widened when he saw the seal this scroll bore. “This is the Shogun’s chop!” he exclaimed.
“Yes,” the stranger agreed. “That is generally the one Kaneka-san uses.”
Ichiro Kihongo, lord of the Badger Clan, puffed idly on his pipe. It was among his most prized possessions, a precious gift from the Unicorn Clan several seasons previously, and Kihongo had discovered that it often gave him the precious seconds he needed to consider exactly what he should say. “Please forgive me, Kazumasa-san,” he said with a nod to the young visitor, “but I am having a difficult time understanding this entire affair. It is my age, I am quite sure. Would you mind terribly explaining the situation once again? Perhaps this time a bit slower?”
“Of course, Kihongo-sama,” Kazumasa said with a smile. “I am something of an explorer, if you will. I have spent the majority of my life wandering Rokugan in search of new experiences. Mountains to climb, hidden temples to explore, forests through which to race, all that manner of thing. Until a short time ago, I was spending time on the open seas with some allies within the Tortoise Clan.”
“The Kasuga, of course,” Kihongo said. “They have always been our allies.”
“They spoke highly of the Badger as well,” Kazumasa said with a quick bow. “During my travels, however, I was fortunate enough to experience a short stay in a Yobanjin port far north of the Phoenix lands. There, I came into information that may be of considerable importance to the Empire.”
“I cannot imagine what it could be,” Kihongo said.
“If you will indulge me for a moment, lord Ichiro, what do you know about the Mountain Wind tribe?”
Kihongo frowned. “They are a peaceful tribe of Yobanjin that live in the mountains several days’ travel from here. We have very limited contact with them, they are not openly hostile, if little else can be said of them. There was an incident some time ago when they were nearly blamed for deaths ultimately linked to the return of Hideo no Oni, but thankfully those days are long passed.”
“That is fortunate indeed,” the man called the Adventurer agreed. “I have come to caution you, however, that there is another tribe, or perhaps more than one, that is plotting to pit you against the Mountain Wind.”
“What?” Kihongo demanded. “For what purpose? The Mountain Wind have nothing another tribe would want. They are almost ascetics.”
“The information I overheard indicated that the manipulators hope to use your attack on the Mountain Wind as a rallying point to marshal a united offense against Rokugan by multiple tribes.”
Kihongo lowered his pipe slowly. “Such a thing has only happened once before. Years ago, when Toturi Tsudao led the Legions against the Yobanjin forces in the Phoenix lands.”
“I recall tales of that incident,” Kazumasa said. “I arranged to speak with the Shogun as soon as I returned. I knew the matter would be of interest to him particularly. It was, after all, the most interesting thing I had discovered in my travels in quite some time.” He paused for a moment. “Although the brawl at the Crimson Blossom sake house in East Hub Village was interesting as well, I suppose.”
“What came of it?” Kihongo asked.
“There were several Mantis espousing the superiority of Black Bay sake over Friendly Traveler,” the Adventurer replied. “A Crab was present, and disagreed rather vehemently. One thing led to another, and…”
Kihongo held up his hand and forced a patient smile. “Your discussion with the Shogun,” he prodded gently. “What came of your discussion with the Shogun?”
“Oh yes,” the young man said with a smile. “He of course wishes to avoid such an incursion, and dispatched me to make you aware of the situation. I am commanded to make myself available to assist you in any way you deem fit. Personally, I am looking forward tremendously to exploring these mountains.”
“Your offer is most gracious,” Kihongo said, “but these mountains are under the protection of the Badger Clan. We must deal with this ourselves. It is a matter of honor, you understand.”
“Certainly,” Kazumasa said. “Of course, if it will aid you in your work, then I humbly offer my fealty to the Ichiro family and the Badger Clan, with the Shogun’s blessing of course.”
Kihongo’s eyes widened. “The Shogun has offered one of his advisors to the Badger? I thought such an offer was only extended to the Great Clans.”
“It is Kaneka-sama’s wish that the Minor Clan Alliance, of which the Badger and Tortoise are both members, be extended the same courtesy.” He smiled again. “As a demonstration of the Shogun’s respect, of course, and his appreciation for the Alliance’s ongoing support.”
“Naturally,” Kihongo replied. He lifted his pipe and drew heavily upon it for a moment. “The Ichiro would be honored to accept a samurai of your skill into their ranks, Kazumasa. If you find such arrangements agreeable, we will conduct the ceremony of fealty at first light.”
“The honor is very much mine,” Kazumasa replied. “And after that, if I may ask?”
“After that,” the old man answered, “you will accompany your new brothers into the northern mountains to locate the Mountain Wind and ensure that this deception does not come to pass.”
The young man could not help but rub his hands together in excitement. “Magnificent,” he said, his smile broadening considerably.