By Nancy Sauer
Edited by Fred Wan
The Imperial City, year 1169, Month of the Rooster
Matsu Takeko hurried through the streets of Toshi Ranbo, trying not to be distracted by the sights and sounds of the city. She had been told that the Imperial Capital had taken grave damage in the Battle of Toshi Ranbo, but even so it was still a bustling, cosmopolitan city, far larger than any she had been to before. Many delicious smells drifted out of the cook shops dotted along the road and she longed to stop for a few sizzling fresh pieces of yakitori and a cup of tea, but she reigned in the impulse. She had been given a duty to perform here, and nothing would stop her until she had discharged it.
As she traveled deeper into the city the sense of chaos it created in her diminished, and she began to notice patterns among the people that clogged the streets. Most were heimin, and she noticed them only to glare at those who did not get out of her way fast enough. Of the samurai present the majority were Lion or Crane, but there were a fair number of Crabs, Dragons and Scorpions, and an indecent number of Mantis. There seemed to be no Unicorn samurai at all. Most interesting of all were the Phoenix she saw–there were very few moving with the crowds, and yet Toshi Ranbo was full of them. Phoenix samurai could be found in groups at the intersections of main roads, manning the checkpoints that divided one section of the city from another, standing watch on the high places of the city. The Phoenix Clan was known as the clan of peace, and yet it was clear that among the Shiba at least, there were those who understood very well the matter of war. Takeko walked on, thinking.
“The Lion are tenacious,” Yoritomo Naizen said. The Mantis Champion tapped his fingers on the table before him. “You did well blocking them in court today.”
Yoritomo Yashinko shook her head. “Forgive me, my lord, but I did not. I allowed Akodo Setai to outflank me completely.”
“How so?”
“His nomination of Toturi Shigekawa as Emperor,” Yashinko said. “The Lion were the last clan I expected to put forth a candidate, but instead they have been the first.”
“Second,” Naizen said with a slight grin. “The Unicorn were first.” Yashinko acknowledged the point with a small nod and he went on. “Shigekawa is a brilliant choice. Vassal of two emperors, a commander of an Imperial Legion, a reputation for unimpeachable integrity. No one could, or should, question the honor of such a man. And with the Toturi name, he’s just Imperial enough for the Lion to claim with a straight face that he is a neutral candidate, above such petty things as clan loyalty. Brilliant.”
“And now we must show equal brilliance in stopping them,” Yashinko said.
“Difficult,” Naizen said. “As Amethyst Champion Yoyonagi is the Mantis holding the highest Imperial office, but she is still seen as a Mantis, and for all that she is an honorable woman she does not have Shigekawa’s shining reputation.”
“She does not need it,” Yashinko said loyally, “the reputation she currently has is all that she requires. But you have a claim equally as good as his.”
“Me?” Naizen was moved to laugh at the idea, but the look on Yashinko’s face stopped him. “How?”
“You have the favor of the Dragon of Thunder, whose voice inspires heroes,” Yashinko said. She gestured towards the Helm of Thunder that sat in state on a stand next to Naizen’s daisho. “No other Clan honors the kami more than the Phoenix, and the support of one of the great dragons will give you credence in their eyes. Given our clans’ recent history, having the Phoenix view you as legitimate will carry great weight among the other Clans.”
The Mantis lord was silent for a moment. His first impulse was to say that he did not want to be the Emperor–but there had been a time when he did not want to be the Mantis Champion, either. His fingers drummed a call to arms on the table. “With a Mantis on the Throne, no one would ever again dispute our place among the Great Clans,” he said. “No one could dismiss Yoritomo’s greatness and vision as mere ambition.”
“All true, my lord,” Yashinko said.
Naizen sighed. “So be it.”
The three Lion samurai walked through the streets of Toshi Ranbo to the estate that Akodo Setai used as his residence, and they did not speak until they entered Setai’s study.
“‘The Mantis have no betters, only equals and even then, none among the Lion,’” Ikoma Akiyama said, giving a fair imitation of Yashinko’s voice. “The temerity of that woman!”
“When one serves the Amethyst Champion, one can afford some temerity,” Setai said mildly. He walked over to a table that held a map of Toshi Ranbo and looked it over.
The third man, Akodo Seiichi, spoke. “Setai-sama, I do not understand why my legion is being kept here. Nothing was accomplished today in court, and it is clear that the Phoenix will not grant your petition. Would not my force be better used in the assault on the Unicorn?”
“A great deal was accomplished,” Setai corrected him. “What did Master Ochiai not speak of today?”
Seiichi blinked in momentary confusion, and Akiyama answered. “She did not dispute Toturi Shigekawa’s qualifications for the Throne,” he said.
“Yes,” Setai said. “And now that we have concentrated everyone’s attention on that, we can see to the city.”
There was a scratching at the door and a guard’s voice. “Akodo-sama, there is a messenger here for you.”
“Send them in,” Setai said.
Matsu Takeko entered and knelt before Setai, offering him the scroll case she carried. Setai took it, opened it, and glanced over the contents. “You have done well,” he said. “Return here tomorrow; I will have a report for you to take back. Until then you are at liberty.”
“Hai, Akodo-sama,” she said, then she bowed to the three men and withdrew.
“Forgive me,” Akiyama said, ignoring the interruption, “but I do not see how we can ’see to’ the city. The Phoenix control it, and no man can stand against the Dragon of Fire.”
“We do not have to wrest control away from the Phoenix,” Setai said, “at least, not at first. But the Mantis need to go–they are traitors, and deserve no place in the Imperial Capital. And I don’t think we need worry about the Fire Dragon.” He offered the message he had received to Seiichi. “The Phoenix are moving more troops towards Toshi Ranbo.”
“They are not needed,” Seiichi said, “an Elemental Dragon is more than capable of dealing with any threat the Clans could offer.” He paused for a moment in thought. “But if the Masters are calling for more troops then they do not really plan on invoking its power, or plan to do so only as a last resort.”
“That would be in character for them,” Akiyama said. “The Phoenix are a pious people, who would not wish to disturb a celestial being over a problem they could solve themselves.”
“Exactly,” Setai said. “The Phoenix wish to preserve the capital: an honorable goal. We will not present them with any threat to the safety of Toshi Ranbo. In fact, when the opportunity arises, we will reduce the number of Clans here in the city, to help ensure that it remains secure.”
He looked at Seiichi. “Do you still fear that your legion is unneeded?”
“No, Setai-sama,” Seiichi said with a slight grin. “I can see that we will be very, very well-applied here.”
The Liquid Pearl sake house did not serve the finest sake in Toshi Ranbo, but the elegant severity of its interior design and the quality of the storyteller who made her base there had won it a following with the Lion samurai who lived in the city. The owner had mixed feelings about this: the Lion tended to be steady, quiet drinkers who paid their tabs without arguing, but he was all too aware of how close his establishment was to the Mantis embassy. This afternoon, however, there were only half a dozen Lion samurai in the house’s common room, and no Mantis in sight. He smiled at the serving girl and left to inventory his stock.
“It is nothing but a disgrace to the Empire,” Akodo Natsu said. He and his companion were sitting at one of the back tables, with a view of the Liquid Pearl’s tiny garden. “This is what happens when you allow shugenja to set policy.”
Akodo Katsumoto looked up from his sake sup. “My friend, surely you do not mean that,” he said. “Surely you would have no doubts about the Kitsu.”
“Of course not! The Kitsu are informed by a thousand years of Lion ancestors–they would never have allowed the Mantis to get away with their treason. But the Phoenix have no such guidance, and they will not listen to those of us who know better.”
Katsumoto nodded and tossed back his sake. “It’s true. And until they do, we must live with the Empire’s dishonor.” He reached into his obi for a few coins and laid them on the table, and then the two men rose and made their way towards the door. As they reached the exit they found the way blocked by some Mantis samurai trying to come in.
“Move aside,” Natsu said brusquely, “I am a samurai.”
The lead Mantis gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Lion-san, I fear the sake is impeding your eyesight. I am Tsuruchi Amaya, a samurai of the Mantis Clan, and you risk offending myself and my ancestors if you do not let me through.”
“I would worry,” Natsu said, “if any Wasp had an ancestor worth offending.”
Amaya’s smile disappeared. The two men stood staring at each other, united in a moment of perfect understanding. Then they both went for their swords.
Takeko bit into her fourth skewer of yakitori, glowing slightly with happiness. Akodo Setai was a legend in the Lion lands: the Redeemed Deathseeker, the man who had proven that not even dishonor could withstand a Lion’s devotion to Bushido, the strategist who had guided the clan’s destiny in the Imperial Court for years–and he had told her she had done well. And tomorrow she would again stand in his presence and he would entrust to her a report to deliver back to her lord. She, Matsu Takeko, would serve as a messenger for the great Akodo Setai. Her sensei would be proud. Her parents would be proud. Her sisters and cousins would be beside themselves with envy.
Takeko smiled and turned back to the peasant running the cook stand to order another skewer. Before she could speak, a disturbance caught her attention. She looked up the street and saw the mass of heimin stream in all directions, some of them screaming in fear. When the street cleared somewhat she realized that they were fleeing from a fight. A moment more and she could identify the combatants: a handful of Akodo samurai against a larger number of Mantis. She took two steps towards them, then stopped and made herself think. The Akodo were fighting as a unit and doing quite well for themselves. She appeared to be the only other Lion present, and if she joined the battle there would be no one to carry news of the Mantis assault. Setai-sama, she was sure, would want to know this. Takeko gritted her teeth, turned around, and started to run in the direction of Setai’s estate.
She had gotten as far as the first cross-street when she fell over. Struggling to her knees with blood pouring out of the lip she had split in the fall she saw two Mantis on the cross street. One had a bow, and seemed to be reaching for an arrow, and the other had the kama that Yoritomo samurai insisted on using. “Running away, little lioness?” the bowman asked. “That isn’t very brave, is it?”
Takeko snarled. She had a stitch in her side that wouldn’t allow the breath for a battle cry, so she settled for leaping to her feet, drawing her katana and charging her opponents. She closed the distance too rapidly for the bowman to get off a shot and cut him open before he could exchange his bow for another weapon. That left the kama man, and the two of them circled for a moment, trying to gauge reaction times and zones. The Mantis launched a series of feints, trying to lure her out. Takeko ignored the feints and waded in, slicing the man’s head off in one blow. “Why feint when you can just kill him?” she muttered, recalling one of her sensei’s favorite sayings. She put her hand to her side, irritated by the stitch, and discovered its source: she had taken an arrow to her ribs.
Takeko slid to her knees as her mind belatedly registered the depth of the pain and the blood that was seeping down the left side of her kimono. ‘I will not fall over,’ she told herself. ‘I have a duty.’ Setting herself against the pain she snapped the shaft as close to head as she could, pushed herself to her feet and started back towards Setai’s estate at an unsteady trot.
“Naizen-sama!” Yashinko swept open the door to her lord’s study and charged in without waiting for permission. “The Lion are attacking some of Tsuruchi Amaya’s men!”
Naizen ignored her lack of protocol. “How do you know?” he asked.
“You can see them from the third floor balcony,” Yashinko said.
Naizen leaped to his feet, scooped up his helm and daisho, and headed for the door. “Think up a justification, in case we started it,” he ordered, and then he was sprinting down the hall, calling for his personal guard in a voice trained to be heard over the storms of the winter sea.
“Setai-sama!” Akiyama said. “There is news you must hear; come to the entryway at once!”
Setai did not pause to ask why the news could not come to him: Akiyama bore with him the faint, familiar scent of blood. He hurried to the entryway and found a young Matsu woman in a blood-stained kimono. She looked pale but calm, and he recognized her as the messenger who had brought him the report on the Phoenix. “Akodo-sama,” she gasped. “The Mantis have attacked us! There is battle going on in a street with many cookshops, east of a small shrine to Bishamon.”
“Near the Liquid Pearl,” Setai said, looking to Akiyama. “And the Mantis embassy.”
The other man nodded. “Seiichi-sama thought likewise. He is already gathering up the members of his legion that are here; when he has them he will reinforce the Lions already in combat.”
Setai looked back at the Matsu. “You have done well,” he said.
She smiled. “Thank you, Akodo-sama,” she said. Then her eyes rolled up in her head and she collapsed where she stood. Akiyama managed to grab her before she hit the floor and lowered her gently down. “Setai-sama, she has an arrow lodged in one of her ribs,” he said after a brief check.
“Call for a healer and a shugenja,” Setai told a nearby servant, and then forgot about the matter. He had a battle to attend to.
Isawa Ochiai paused as she walked and looked up slightly, listening. “So soon?” she said, a note of surprise in her voice. A pause, and then she spoke again. “No, my friend. Not yet. The Shiba’s devotion to the cause of peace is no less than the Isawa’s–we should not deprive them of the opportunity to display it to the Empire.” Another pause. “Yes,” she said sadly. “I know.”
Shiba Miiko tucked a sweaty lock of hair behind her ear and wondered where her kabuto had gone. She didn’t remember losing it, but then, she didn’t remember a lot of the last ten minutes. “Sotatsu!” she yelled. “We have secured this area–report it!” The man nodded from the rooftop he was perched on, drew out a flame-red fan, and started to signal with it.
As she waited for the reply Miiko sighed and looked at the bodies scattered around. Who under Heaven’s smile, she marveled, would think it a good idea to start a fight in a city with an entrenched garrison, backed by the might of the Isawa Masters and the blessings of the Dragon of Fire?
The Lion, who correctly understood that the path of honor was the Way of Heaven.
The Mantis, who correctly understood that all human existence was a struggle against superior forces.
“Enlightenment makes sages out of fools and fools out of sages,” she mused to herself.
“Miiko!” Sotatsu called out, disturbing her meditations. “This district is sealed off. Main battle is in the district south of here, and reinforcements are on their way.”
Miiko nodded and waved for him to come down. She waited in serene silence until her additional forces had arrived, and then she claimed their attention by raising her katana over her head.
“Our mission is that of peace,” she said. “In respect to the will of the Masters, we will only kill those who resist our efforts. Anyone who does not immediately stand down is resisting. Now, we go!”
Takeko sat sprawling in the garden of Setai’s estate, enjoying the fall sunshine and studying the arrowhead the healer had taken out of her. It was her habit to obtain a small token from the samurai she had defeated, to remember them by, but she had been too busy to worry about it after she killed the kama man. The arrowhead, then, would have to serve for the two of them. It was a beautifully made, and she grudgingly had to admit that whatever else one thought of the Mantis, they clearly understood the importance of good equipment.
The merest rustle of grass caught her attention and she looked up to see Akodo Setai entering the small clearing she was in. “Akodo-sama,” she said, and began to struggle to her knees to bow. He waved her down. “You will be moving soon enough; sit and heal now.”
There was an odd tone to his voice, a combination of grimness and satisfaction. Takeko gathered her courage and spoke. “Akodo-sama? I do not understand.”
“The Phoenix, in their majestic wisdom, have banished both the Lion and the Mantis Clans from Toshi Ranbo,” Setai said. “We have a week to settle our affairs and withdraw.”
“They can’t do that! Lord Nimuro pledged the Lion to serve as protectors of Toshi Ranbo!” Takeko caught herself and blushed slightly. “Your pardon, Akodo-san. I have spoken out of my place.”
“A passionate Matsu,” Setai said dryly. “Who could imagine such a thing? But the Phoenix position is that we can protect the city best by being outside its walls, and we had few allies in that fight. The Crab claimed to find the whole matter too ridiculous to deal with. The Dragon sided with the Phoenix, in the name of peace, as did the Scorpion, though I suspect for different reasons. The Crane argued fiercely on our behalf, but they could not overcome the will of the other three clans.”
“It is unjust,” Takeko muttered.
“It is the nature of war,” Setai said. “The Mantis will be removed from Toshi Ranbo. The cost of this is not what I expected, but I did expect that there would be one. We will bear it with honor, and wait for the time of our return.”