By Brian Yoon
Edited by Fred Wan
Light rain began to fall over Friendly Traveler Village in the beginning hours of the night. Dense clouds rolled over the sky, foretelling a bigger storm to come. People cleared the streets, heading home to escape the furor of nature at work. In the heart of the trading village, the door to the largest sake house in town slid open. Hida Atsumori stepped outside the building alone. He was large and well built, like the majority of the Crab warrior class, and his severe face looked unaccustomed to laughter or mirth. He stared up at the clouded sky, grimaced then shook his head. After a moment of deliberation, the Crab stepped into the rain unprotected and headed down the main street. Though he had spent hours inside the sake house, he moved with only the slightest hint of inebriation in his gait.
He walked further down the empty street, making his way toward his home. Every inch of him was drenched with the falling rain yet he did not seem to notice. When the effects of the drink hit him, he leaned against the side of a building and waited to regain his balance. The soothing sound of the falling rain echoed in his ears, and he closed his eyes. It could not quite override the screams of burning peasants that still dominated his mind.
During the past two months, Atsumori had led several raids into the southern Scorpion lands as retaliation for their attacks on his lord. It had been a just cause and he had executed his orders with his usual efficiency. Yes, it had been the correct move; the Scorpion had to be taught a lesson. Atsumori shook his head to clear his head of the unpleasant thoughts that plagued him.
Suddenly, a voice cut through his revelries. “Greetings, Hida-san. A lovely night for a stroll,” came a voice from behind. Atsumori opened his eyes and turned, his hands instinctively going toward his katana. Atsumori expected no violence in the middle of the city, but living on the edge of the Shadowlands had taught him to expect danger at even the most innocuous places. The stranger was a slim, shabbily dressed ronin. Only his enigmatic smile was visible under the brim of a large jingasa. The katana by his side was bound by a peace knot, and his hands were empty.
Perhaps the drink had altered his perceptions, but Atsumori could not shake the feeling that the ronin was dangerous.
“Are you drunk, boy?” Atsumori spat. “Leave me be before your madness infects my spirits.”
The stranger stepped closer, his smile never ceasing. “I am afraid that cannot be, Hida-san. Earlier tonight you regaled us with tales of your heroic valor. I must confess I have come to entreat you for more stories.”
Atsumori paused. His recollections of the night seemed more like the distant past than a fresh memory. Even through his hazy thoughts, he could not remember any such tales. Had he spoken out of place? “What do you mean?” he grunted suspiciously.
“Why,” the ronin continued, “you are Hida Atsumori, gunso under the command of Hida Kisada. You defeat villains and destroy scum at his behest. Killing peasants and burning unprotected villages. Such worthy heroism should not go unrewarded.”
Atsumori’s face flushed red. “How dare you mock me? Do not test me further or I will teach you a lesson you will never forget!” In the depths of his anger, Atsumori forgot to wonder how the ronin had learned of his duties.
“Allow me to bestow onto you that favor first, Atsumori-san,” the stranger continued. “Never underestimate the reach of the Scorpion’s vengeance. I am Yumita, the Black Scorpion, and I have come to witness your death.”
Before Yumita could finish his statement, Atsumori leapt into action. He grabbed the hilt of his katana and drew his blade with lightning speed. Yumita simply stood in place and watched the approaching Crab. Atsumori pulled his arms back to thrust his blade into his foe.
From the corner of his eye, Atsumori saw a dark blur fall from the roof of the nearby building. Everything stopped in a blinding flash of pain down his back, and he crumpled to the ground. He felt a light hand grab his shoulder, and with deceptive strength the second assailant flipped him to his back.
Atsumori’s breath rattled in his throat as he struggled to breathe, to hang on to his last handhold on life. A small, lithe girl with a small cloth covering her mouth released her hold on him. She stared into his eyes then nodded with satisfaction. Atsumori tried to keep his gaze locked on his killers, but it was getting harder and harder to move.
“Shall we move his body?” she asked, looking back at Yumita. She flicked the blood off her blade with a casual movement.
Yumita shook his head. “It shall serve as a warning. Your attack was sloppy, but you will learn with experience. Come, our work here is not yet over.”
Atsumori struggled to hear the voices as they faded from his ears. The sound of raindrops as they fell around him was the only thing he could hear. Soon, he could hear nothing at all.
Bayushi Paneki sat immobile under the roof of a gazebo in the middle of his sand garden, his gaze fixed upon the calm that surrounded him. The rain drizzled down forming a curtain over the rest of the world. His guards waited unobtrusively at the edge of the garden. The rain slowly altered the construction of the sand. Paneki was not a man for philosophy, but he mused quietly on the way the flow of the water undid the careful work his gardeners had taken hours to complete.
A soft footstep behind him betrayed the presence of another. “Tell me of our efforts in the south, Tsimaru,” Paneki said without preamble.
Bayushi Tsimaru came to his side and bowed deeply. Tsimaru was a resourceful man who served with unflagging loyalty and cleverness. He knew the Scorpion’s hidden assets and how to manage them. With Yudoka’s death, Paneki had given the wily Scorpion more and more responsibilities. To Paneki’s delight, Tsimaru had not yet failed him.
“Our agents have begun to retaliate for the Crab’s assaults along the southern border,” Tsimaru said. “Several Crab gunso are now dead. Kisada continues to rebuff our efforts; thus I have ordered focus off of the Great Bear. Our men will focus on those who follow him, if that does not displease you.”
“I have given you free reign over that situation, Tsimaru. You have my full support.”
Tsimaru hesitated a moment. “Paneki-sama, if the Crab attack us in full force, they will find our defenses pliable. The famine has left us undermanned and underfed, and when the Crab burned several of our villages it only exacerbated the situation. We will not be able to hold against their armies.”
Paneki nodded. “I know. Yet the Crab will expect us to react in some way to their transgressions, or they will know our weakened position. We must maintain a show of force, or they will not hesitate to attack.”
“Yes, my lord,” Tsimaru replied. “Our assaults in their lands might provoke an attack regardless.”
“That will be your duty,” Paneki said. “You must make sure the Crab fear our strength, but do not place us in an untenable position.”
“As you command, Paneki-sama,” Tsimaru said. He bowed once more then left the Champion to his reveries.
Paneki stood and turned toward the garden gate. The guards had let more of his appointments into the garden. Two immaculately dressed men gingerly made their way toward the gazebo, protected from the rain by small umbrellas. Both were young men; one moved with a slight limp and dragged behind the other. The man in the front was Bayushi Hisoka, a courtier that had gained influence quickly in the Crane lands. Shosuro Jimen trailed behind. They lowered their umbrellas when they reached the cover of the gazebo and bowed deeply. Paneki acknowledged them with a quick nod.
“Good evening, Paneki-sama,” Hisoka said softly. “I have prepared the information you requested concerning our supplies.”
“What news from the capitol?” Paneki asked
Jimen spoke with his head bowed. “My lord, the Khan has failed in his assault. He managed to breach the walls of the palace Kaneka himself moved to intercept him on the field of battle, and the Phoenix arrived and stopped the fighting with the force of their magic.”
Hisoka nodded. “The Khan’s gambit has failed, then. Who claimed his life?”
“He lives,” Jimen said. “Kaneka is dead, and Chagatai has been guaranteed safe passage back to his lands.”
Paneki gazed at Jimen. “Tell me how this came to be.”
“The Phoenix prevented further bloodshed within the city, and their decree was observed by providence of the Fire Dragon that accompanied their forces. The Lion Champion publicly granted the Khan passage home, and announced that he would kill him within one year.”
Paneki nodded. “His father’s son, then.”
“So it would seem.” Jimen hesitated for a moment. “My lord, I must report that Bayushi Kaukatsu perished in the battle. Accounts of his death are somewhat… unusual.”
Despite having served the Master of Secrets for years, Jimen had never seen Bayushi Paneki speechless, even for a moment. Paneki collected himself quickly, frowning deeply. “Kaukatsu was a good man. It will take a long time to regain his influence and connections.”
“Indeed, my lord.” Jimen replied. “The Crane will see the death of Kaukatsu-sama as a fatal wound in our side. They will quickly push onward to attempt to gain power, and perhaps even overthrow our hold on the court.”
“They see us as weak, in the wake of his death,” Hisoka added. “We must muster what forces we have and immediately present a show of strength to our enemies. I would gladly help show them our might.”
“What of our supplies?” Paneki asked.
Hisoka lowered his eyes. “We have yet to recover fully from the famine, my lord. Even with everything we could muster from all sources, we are still seriously depleted. We do not have the supplies to maintain a war.”
Before Paneki could reply, the sounds of a scuffle reached the three. Bayushi Kwanchai stood at the gate of the garden, his path barred by the champion’s guards. Kwanchai was heavily bandaged and visibly weakened, but nothing could stop him from his goal. He shook off the efforts of the guards to detain him and pushed past them. He headed for Paneki and quickly crossed the garden, unaware of the downpour. His reddened eyes were wild with such passion that made Jimen and Hisoka take a step backwards away from the man. When he reached them, he fell prostrate at the feet of Paneki.
“I apologize for intruding on you like this, Paneki-sama,” Kwanchai said, “but I could wait no longer.”
Paneki waved the guards away with a quick gesture. “What is your concern, Kwanchai?”
Kwanchai reached for the swords at his side, and the guards tensed once more. He placed the blades in front of him and bowed his head. “I swore to protect Kaukatsu-sama when he took me as his yojimbo in the Imperial Court. I could do nothing to prevent his death. My life is forfeit. Please, my lord… punish me for my failure.”
Paneki stepped toward Kwanchai. “You say that your life is forfeit now that you have failed, Kwanchai?”
He did not answer but waited, his gaze fixed on the ground.
“You remain silent so I will answer in your place,” Paneki continued. Jimen had never heard such danger in Paneki’s voice before, and he reminded himself of Paneki’s reputation as a brutal killer before he ever gained the Championship. “Your life was forfeit the moment you became a Scorpion.”
“I failed in my duty to protect Kaukatsu-sama,” Kwanchai repeated.
Paneki shook his head. “Your shame is irrelevant. You are a reliable weapon and your followers trust you with fanatic fervor. When you cease to be useful to me and the clan, I will allow you to do what you wish. Until then, you will serve.”
Kwanchai hesitated for a long moment. He finally nodded and hung his head. “Yes, my lord.”
Paneki turned to Jimen. “Jimen, you will return to Toshi Ranbo and represent our efforts in the Imperial Court. Be vigilant. We cannot allow our enemies any chance to whittle down our political position.”
Jimen’s eyes glowed with eagerness. “Yes, Paneki-sama.”
Paneki’s gaze focused on Hisoka. “The throne is empty once more. The Emerald Champion is dead. We cannot allow any one clan to accumulate the power left in the absence.”
Hisoka nodded. “I will assist Jimen in his duties to present our enemies with all of our political power and sow discord among the other clans. No one will dare underestimate the Scorpion in face of our power.”
Paneki looked at the three in turn. Shivers ran down Jimen’s back as he saw the unmistakably predatory look in his Champion’s eyes. “We are the Clan of Secrets,” Paneki said. “We will rebuild, and the Empire will feel the strength of the Scorpion once more.”