By Shawn Carman
Edited by Fred Wan
Kyuden Doji was lovely at any time of year, but it was now, when winter was just beginning to recede and the first promises of spring were in the air, that Doji Ayano found it the most beautiful. The air had finally lost its bitter chill, and the trees had begun to show the signs of buds that would erupt soon. They hid for now, as if fearing the possibility of a fresh frost claiming their young lives.
Ayano smiled at her own foolishness. Spring always made her somewhat fanciful, she knew, and the impending wedding that would take place in the next few days was doubtless exacerbating her mood. It was ridiculous, of course, and she inwardly disliked even this vague subscription to the stereotype of a flighty Crane maiden, but she could not help herself; she had loved weddings from childhood.
“Hello, little camellia.”
Ayano recognized the voice at once, but she had not heard it in so long that she could not contain her surprise as she turned to see the speaker. “Hideo-kun!” she exclaimed happily.
Kakita Hideo smiled, but she could see at once it was not the smile she had known since her youth. The duelist seemed tired, somehow. “It is good to see you again,” he told her. “It has been too long.”
“Not since late summer, in the Imperial City,” she agreed. “How have you been? I was concerned for you after…” she trailed off, inwardly admonishing herself for even broaching the subject. A courtier should be more discreet, but her excitement over seeing an old friend had loosened her tongue, if only for a moment.
“It is alright,” he said, as if sensing her guilt. “I have overcome that particular embarrassment, thankfully.”
Ayano smiled warmly at him. Hideo had been one of the youngest contestants to ever enter the Test of the Emerald Champion. He had been defeated by the eventual victor, but in defeat he had allowed emotion to overcome him, and dishonored himself with a shameful outburst of anger. Ayano knew how the defeat must have hurt the proud young man, but she knew the disgrace would have hurt him even more. “Where have you been stationed?”
“That,” Hideo said with a grin, this time much more similar to the one she remembered, “is a complicated answer. I have been moving around quite a bit.”
“Oh? Were you assigned to a magistrate?”
“You might say that,” Hideo answered. “I have been traveling with a young Dragon magistrate. We have been investigating the mysteries of Kitsune Narako.”
“Kitsune Narako?” Ayano frowned, then raised her eyebrows as realization dawned. “The Mantis prophet?”
“She is now,” Hideo agreed. “Regardless, I have been traveling with Kitsuki Taiko. We have managed to recruit a few additional samurai to assist in our investigation, and we are all marshalling our resources before we return to the Kitsune Mori.”
“Taiko,” Ayano said, tapping her fan gainst her chin. “I believe I have heard that name. Was she stationed in the Imperial City at some point last summer?”
“She was.” Hideo sipped at a flask of water he carried with him. “You would not have missed her if you met. She has a hummingbird tattoo on her cheekbone. It is quite adorable, really.”
Ayano laughed and made as if to bat him with her fan. “You can play the womanizer all you wish, Hideo, but I know better. In all the years we have known one another you have never been improper with me.”
“You are too pure of heart,” Hideo said, grimacing. “A man like me could never bear to despoil so delicate a flower with his affection. It would be like watching a Crab attempt to improve a priceless piece of sculpture.”
Ayano raised an eyebrow. “I am not certain if I should be flattered or insulted.”
“Knowing me? Both.”
The two shared a moment of laughter, but it was cut short by a sudden hush that fell over the nearby crowed. Hideo frowned and craned his neck in an attempt to see what was happening, but Ayano looked politely away. A lone bushi walked through the room, his features set and severe. His green kimono was at odds with the predominantly blue attire throughout the room. The duelist followed the older man as he crossed the room. “Who is that?”
Ayano opened her fan to cover her mouth, and discretely glanced at the other people to see if they were paying attention. “His name is Doji Ichita,” she said quietly. “He is a member of the Jade Legion.”
“I see.” Hideo said nothing for a moment, watching the man as he moved through the room. No one seemed particularly eager to speak to him. “A prestigious appointment. He no doubt brings great honor to your family.”
Ayano smiled. “Of course.” What Hideo said was of course true. There was but a single Jade Legion in all the Empire, and an appointment to such an elite military unit was a great honor. Still, the Jade Legion existed to combat the Shadowlands Taint in all its many forms, and that simply was not a topic for conversation. It was so in the Crane lands, and in the courts of any civilized clan anywhere in the Empire. Men like Ichita brought distinction to their clan and family, but at the cost of becoming virtual social pariahs. “So did you return for the wedding, then?”
Hideo turned his attention back to her. “Wedding?”
Ayano shook her head. “I do not remember you being so oblivious to happenings of the Empire. You have spent too much time with the Dragon!”
Hideo smirked. “Who is it? Honestly I have been out of touch with the civilized world for some time.”
“Kakita Matabei,” Ayano answered.
“Ah.” Hideo seemed slightly confused. He glanced around the room at the various important personages. “I suppose I am surprised to see so many high ranking Crane, after…” his voice trailed off.
Ayano nodded. Matabei had been the commander of the Empress’ Guard in the Imperial City. When the Unicorn Clan had laid siege to the city almost a year ago, Matabei and his men had protected the throne room from all attackers, until only Matabei himself was left alive. While he had not failed in his duty, the Empress had apparently feared he would, and taken her own life to prevent being used as a hostage. The shame of that doubt had followed Matabei ever since, at least until recently. “The Emerald Champion has spoken on Matabei’s behalf,” she explained. “He has been reintroduced to the Imperial Court.”
“That is fortunate,” Hideo said with a nod. “Matabei-sama is a great man. It seems odd that the Emerald Champion would take such an interest in him, however.”
The young courtier fanned herself lightly and lowered her voice. “His presentation of Matabei to the court repeatedly mentioned the circumstances of his dishonor,” she explained. “I fear some social stigma still surrounds him as a result.”
Hideo shook his head, his voice equally quiet. “Shosuro Jimen. Surely there has never been such an Emerald Champion in all the Empire’s history.”
“On that I believe you are quite correct,” Ayano agreed, her voice returning to its normal volume and bright, cheerful tone. “Regardless, Matabei-sama is to be married in the morning.”
“To whom?”
Ayano smiled and nodded her head slightly. Hideo followed the gesture and watched as a dainty young Dragon woman entered the room, greeting all those she passed as she did so. She was lovely, bearing more resemblance to a painted doll than most of the Dragon Ayano had ever met, and there was a certain look to her eyes, one that caused Ayano to believe she was more of a danger in court than perhaps others of her family. It was not that she did not seem trustworthy, exactly, only that there was more to her than met the eye. Ayano had already determined to be particularly cautious in speaking to her, should the opportunity ever arise. “Kitsuki Orika,” she said. “Something of a rising star among the Dragon contingent in court.”
“An odd match,” Hideo observed.
“Otomo Hoketuhime recently announced that any inter-clan marriages must be approved by someone of Imperial birth, in the absence of an Emperor.”
“What?” The duelist looked stunned. “That makes no sense. The Emperor has never required such things in the past.”
“No,” she agreed. “Some believe it is a means of requiring others to seek her favor. I have heard that Shosuro Jimen is quite annoyed, and has been using his position to approve as many marriages as possible without consulting the Otomo.”
Hideo winced slightly. “I do not think I would wish to be in court with the two of them at the same time.”
Ayano laughed lightly. “Watching them kill one another with kindness is quite… trying,” she admitted. “Fortunately I think they both have the best interests of the Empire at heart.”
Now it was Hideo’s turn to laugh. “You have not changed, little one,” he said. “Ever the idealist.”
“I am three days older than you,” she reminded him.
Hideo began to retort, but a sudden quiet fell over the room as everyone turned to look. Ayano stepped to the side so that she could see around Hideo and was surprised to discover Orika bowing deeply before Doji Domotai. The Crane Champion had apparently entered the chamber without being announced. It was no doubt a tendency she had retained from her years with the Lion Clan.
“I am greatly honored for the privilege of joining your clan, my lady,” Orika was saying. “I recently stayed in the Imperial City for a short time, and during that time I discovered something of a surprise in one of the Imperial libraries. Knowing that I would be in your beautiful home soon, I wished to make a gift of it.” The Dragon courtier held out a small box.
Domotai smiled. “You are to be married in the morning, Orika-san. I believe it is customary for you to receive gifts, not bestow them.”
“To be numbered among those known as the Emperor’s Left Hand is a greater gift than I could ever receive,” she answered. “Accept this token of my gratitude.”
“You are a Dragon yet, at least for the moment,” Domotai answered. “Perhaps they should be thanked for permitting your entrance into our ranks, and the gift would be better suited for them?”
Orika smiled. “I wish only to prove my worth as a vassal, my lady. Please accept my gift.”
Domotai smiled and accepted the box. She opened it and withdrew a small collection of bound papers. Ayano recognized the item at once; they were often sold in the Imperial City as journals for those who wished to keep an account of their actions. This one seemed to be of much higher quality than most Ayano had seen, however. The Crane Champion inclined her head in thanks, then opened the paper to look inside. There was the briefest moment when her expression froze. Had Ayano not been watching carefully, she would never have seen it. Knowing how disciplined a warrior and courtier Domotai was, she wondered what could be contained within that would surprise her so.
“This,” Domotai said quietly, “is a journal kept by our former Emperor, Toturi III.” She looked at Orika with a calm, serene expression. “You discovered this within an Imperial library?”
“Yes, my lady,” Orika said with a bow. “It was in a most peculiar position. I am certain it was placed there by mistake by a clumsy underling, or perhaps simply for safekeeping. There would of course be no reason to conceal such a thing.”
“Of course,” Domotai agreed. “This is… a treasure. Thank you, Orika-chan.”
There was a murmur through the room, and Orika’s expression fairly glowed at the Champion’s use of the familiar. “It is my great pleasure, my lady. The Kitsuki have always placed tremendous value on knowledge, and I hope that I can offer that to you and yours. I have another gift for you, one I think you might find even greater, but I will present it after the ceremony, in honor of my husband.”
Domotai smiled. “I will look forward to that.”
Conversation resumed as the two parted, and the topic was not in question; everyone was doubtless peaking of Orika’s triumph, and Ayano did not doubt that there were many who might be concerned that their own position within the clan might be threatened by this upstart. Hideo was looking across the room at a group of people, his expression unreadable. “What can you tell me of this Orika?” he asked.
“It is said she was trained as a magistrate, but never served. Supposedly she was moved to duty in the courts when she proved her skills there.” Ayano followed Hideo’s gaze to a group of Crane conversing near the southern wall. “What are you looking at?” she asked quietly.
“When Orika spoke of her gift, a greater gift of knowledge,” Hideo said, “she looked at that group of people. Asahina Keitaro departed as soon as conversation resumed.”
“Ah,” Ayano said with a smile. “Orika and Keitaro-sama have a bit of history together. It was he who arranged for her marriage to Matabei.”
“That seems… peculiar,” Hideo observed.
“Orika was a guest at Shinden Asahina during the most recent Winter Court,” she explained. “She was called away suddenly, but apparently not before impressing Keitaro-sama. It is said he called in many favors to arrange the wedding.”
“Interesting,” Hideo said. “A woman who discovers the Emperor’s journal hidden in a library must be extraordinarily perceptive.”
“Yes,” Ayano agreed. Something in Hideo’s tone unsettled her, however, and even as she explained Orika’s relationship with Keitaro, something seemed amiss. She could not identify what it was that concerned her, however.
“I am certain it was nothing,” Hideo said, his smile returning. “Would you join me for tea in the garden?”
“Of course,” she smiled.
By the next morning, Hideo seemed almost entirely back to his old self. He made several inappropriate comments to other young women as he and Ayano were walking through the gardens after meeting for an early breakfast. If they had been together at all over the past few months, she would no doubt have found his behavior as annoying as she had when they were children. Under the current circumstances, however, she found the old familiar routine strangely comforting.
As the two walked and spoke about all manner of different things, they caught a glimpse of Lady Domotai walking through the garden. No matter how many times she saw it, Ayano never failed to be surprised that the Champion would walk about without yojimbo during court, even in the confines of her own home. Of course, Domotai-sama was a skilled and honorable warrior, but the image was startling nonetheless. For all that she had come to represent the Crane in all their facets, Ayano mused, there were some ways in which Domotai might never fully shed her Lion training.
“I wonder,” Hideo mused, “if I might have a moment of her time.”
“Hideo!” Ayano said, shocked. “Approach the Champion? In the gardens? How improper!”
“Well technically she is entering that corridor,” Hideo retorted. “So no, not in the gardens.”
“You mustn’t!” she insisted.
“I have no choice,” he answered. “There are things she needs to know, and the chances that I will be granted an audience with her under different circumstances are quite low.” Without another word, he moved swiftly through the small garden courtyard and followed Domotai into the palace. Not sure what else to do, Ayano followed close behind and tried to think of something that might convince him to stop.
Domotai was just beginning to enter another, more off-the-path hallway when Hideo called after her. “Lady Domotai,” he said. “I beg your forgiveness, my lady, but may I have a moment of your time?”
Domotai turned to look at the young duelist, and Ayano felt her Champion’s gaze drift over his shoulder onto her for the briefest of moments. She had to will herself not to blush. “The young duelist from the Championship,” she said calmly. “Hideo, is it not?”
“It is, my lady,” he bowed deeply.
Again the Champion’s gaze flitted to Ayano. “Is this young man worth my time, Ayano?”
Ayano felt the breath leave her lungs, and struggled with the notion that her Champion knew her by name. She forced herself to take a calming breath. “I know not of what he wishes to speak,” she said, “but I believe he is worthy, Domotai-sama.”
Domotai smiled. “Well then. Please be quick.”
“Hai, my lady, I will be brief.” Hideo withdrew a scroll from his robe. “I was present in the Kitsune Mori recently when…”
A shrill scream cut through the air, cutting Hideo short. His hand went to his blade instantly, and he moved between Domotai and the door to the outer garden. Almost without thinking, Ayano took a step toward the two warriors, glancing around to see if she could determine where such a sound had come from.
A handmaiden entered the room through one of the other doors, one that led deeper into the palace. Her face was so pale that at first Ayano believed she was wearing face paint, and her hands were shaking badly. She was clearly on the brink of hysterics, and panted, trying to catch her breath. It seemed as though she was about to scream again.
Domotai stepped forward in one quick motion and slapped the girl across the face. She gasped, and one hand flew to her rapidly reddening cheek. “You are Crane,” Domotai said, her voice calm and quiet, but firm. “Remember that. We have guests, and we will not disturb them if it can be helped. Do you understand?”
The girl seemed to draw strength from her Champion, and bowed sharply. “Yes, my lady,” she whispered. “But please, there is… someone… so much blood.”
The two warriors were even more alert at once. “Blood?” Domotai said. “Where?”
“The shrine,” the girl whispered. “The shrine to the Kami.”
“Let me, my lady,” Hideo said.
Domotai nodded. “Be quick about it.”
Hideo nodded and stepped through the doorway. Domotai followed a few paces behind, her own hand resting comfortably, somehow casually, on the hilt of her blade. Ayano trailed behind, almost in a daze. Hideo walked through a series of doorways, then stopped suddenly in one. He turned and shook his head. “Do not look, my lady.”
“Do not be ridiculous,” Domotai said, her tone slightly sharper. “Get out of the way.”
Hideo grimaced and did so at once. As he moved, Ayano caught a glimpse of blood spilled all across the floor of a small shrine, and a body crumpled in the floor. It was clad in red robes, a shade to rich and perfectly uniform to have been created by staining. “Orika-san!” Ayano said in a hushed tone.
Domotai nodded. “She was meditating here following the ceremony this morning. She specifically requested a shrine to the Kami. She wanted to reflect on her oaths of fealty before offering her gift.” She shook her head. “Someone has made a terrible mistake, bringing this carnage into the house of the Crane.”
“Could it have been seppuku?” Ayano asked. “Was Orika secretly ashamed of her union? Matabei-sama’s reputation has suffered.”
“No,” Hideo said.
Domotai looked at him. “Explain yourself, please.”
Hideo only pointed at a length of red cloth that had come loose from the layers Orika wore. It was crumpled up a few feet from her body, and blood surrounded it. As Ayano looked, she could see faint wisps of smoke rising from it. “What is that?”
The duelist took a candle from the shrine and extinguished it. Using its length, he lifted the cloth free. Beneath it, a small knife lay on the floor. It was like no knife Ayano had ever seen. Its surface was not the brilliant steel she had seen her entire life, but a strange, mottled red color. Even as the dagger sat on the wooden floor, it smoked slightly as if burning the floor and the cloth that had covered it. The smell was faint, but repulsive. “That is no natural weapon.”
“What do you mean?” Ayano asked.
Hideo shook his head. “It must be Tainted.”
“Be silent!” Ayano said at once, surprising herself with her tone. “There are guests in this palace! You will not speak of such things, Kakita Hideo!” She quickly clamped one hand over her mouth and looked at Domotai. “Forgive me, my lady! I did not mean…”
“You are correct,” Domotai said. “This subject will not be spoken of in my home.” She pointed to Hideo. “Our guests expect the hospitality of the Crane, and they shall receive it. You shall not burden them with such dark matters as this. Say nothing of it. Go and find Doji Ichita. He is seconded to a Phoenix Inquisitor who is in attendance for the wedding. An old acquaintance of Matabei’s, I believe. Bring them here. The Phoenix will handle the investigation.”
“Hai, my lady,” Hideo said, and disappeared into the hallway.
“You should not be here, my lady,” Ayano said. “Let me await their arrival.”
Domotai smiled slightly. “Such sights as this are not for you, Ayano. Go and find the first servant you can. Tell them that this shrine is to be closed off from every direction until otherwise ordered. Do you understand?”
“At once,” she said. She turned to leave, then hesitated briefly. “What of Matabei, my lady?”
“I will speak to him myself,” Domotai said. “He is meditating for the day as well, as is proper. He will need to know that his bride is dead.”
Ayano placed her hand over her mouth, the thought of the man suffering more grief terrible to her. “Of course, my lady.”
There was no time to dwell on such things. There was a crisis in the house of the Crane, and Ayano would do all that was in her power to prevent any loss of face for her clan. She disappeared into the corridor, searching for a servant.