To Defend the Emperor

Part 3

by Shawn Carman
Editing & Assistance by Fred Wan

The Mantis Estates in Toshi Ranbo

The doors to Yoritomo Katoa’s private chambers slid open so suddenly and with such force that several scrolls on different tables throughout the room fluttered in the sudden stirring of air, drifting to the floor to join an assortment of crumpled clothing and an occasional empty sake bottle. Katoa stormed in and began searching through the mess, grabbing objects seemingly at random and tossing them out into a pile near the center of the room.

“By the Fortunes,” a young woman near the doorway said softly, her eyes wide.

“Indeed,” the older woman agreed. “Do you actually live in this filth, Katoa?” she asked. “I think perhaps you should have the servants executed.”

“I am not interested in your assessment, Yoyonagi,” the former sailor spat. “And in any event, the servants are not allowed in my quarters. I do not trust them.”

“I have always thought you were grossly inept,” Yoyonagi replied. “Now that I see what manner of mental state you have had to overcome to accomplish what little you have, I actually respect you more.”

“I do not have time to spar with you,” Katoa said without looking up. “Time is of the essence. You know that as well as I do.”

“Katoa-sama, please,” the younger woman said. “You cannot leave.”

At that, the manic samurai stopped for a moment and regarded the woman with a flat expression. “Yashinko, I have struggled to find a way out of this appointment for years. This is not a city, it is a prison, and I have been given the chance to escape. I must take it.”

“What will Naizen-sama say of your abandoning your duties?” Yoyonagi asked.

“What would he say if we waited for word to reach the islands?” Katoa countered. “What if he discovered that the only clan that did not rush to the Emperor’s side was the Mantis? Do you think that would aid us in refuting the Phoenix petition?”

“This is the Imperial Court!” Yashinko burst out. As the other two looked on, both taken aback by her uncharacteristic outburst, she continued. “This is the most important battlefield in all the Empire! Every day we have the chance to defeat an enemy in a more glorious fashion than a thousand bows and katana! How can you leave this? You are our leader! We need you!”

Katoa laughed roughly. “You don’t need me. You never have.” He took up his possessions and started for the doorway.

Yoyonagi stopped him with a light touch on his shoulder. He stared at her curiously, stunned by the sudden contact. “Katoa, please,” she said. “We do need you. I need you.”

Katoa shrugged her hand away. “You will lead the Mantis in court now, Yoyonagi,” he said coldly. “Either I will return victorious and ride the waves once again, or I will not return at all.” He looked to the passageway beyond his chambers. “Etsui!” he called out.

A young Tsuruchi guardsman appeared at the doorway. His cold, calculating expression betrayed no hint of emotion at the awkward exchange that had just taken place. “Yes, Katoa-sama?”

“You said you had a contact that could make the arrangements,” Katoa said. “Have you done so? And how many men have you ready to move?”

“At your request, I’ve altered the shift schedule here at the estate,” Etsui said. “The men will be performing double shifts until more men arrive from the south, but we have nearly two dozen guardsmen ready to leave the city as soon as you give the order.”

“How did you gather the supplies so quickly?” Yashinko asked. “It seems miraculous for such to be arranged so soon after Hachi’s announcement.”

“The Shogun’s staff,” Etsui explained. “Shiba Danjuro, Shosuro Higatsuku, and the monk Heigai have opened the Shogun’s coffers to fund any and all expeditions to protect the Emperor. Merchants are most accomodating when money is no object.”

“Excellent,” Katoa said. “And the travel arrangements?”

“Completed, my lord. But there are some… eccentricities.”

Katoa frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I have acquired travel papers for Shamate Pass and the Scorpion lands, all the way through to the Crab border,” Etsui explained. “However, in exchange for these documents, my associate made some rather unusual requests.”

“What are they?”

“He will be accompanying us, disguised as one of us,” Etsui said. “And there will be one other hidden in our supply wagon.”

Katoa’s frown deepened. “Is your contact trustworthy? This seems… odd.”

Etsui smiled for the first time. “Yasuki Jinn-Kuen is indeed a man I trust implicitly,” he said.

Katoa shouldered the bag containing his belongings. “That is good enough for me. Summon the men. It is time to go.”

“As you wish, my lord,” Etsui said with a bow.

•

Shiro Shiba

Shiba Naoya moved through the corridors of Shiro Shiba at a light jog, sending servants scurrying out of his way out of fear that something terrible was happening. In a way, of course, they were absolutely correct, but almost certainly not in the manner they suspected. Naoya felt a fleeting urge to stop and assure them that the castle was not under attack, or that the Mantis fleet had not been sighted on the coast, or any of a dozen other rumors he was certain would be circulating by nightfall, but there was not time for that. He had searched half the castle for his brother, and the message was urgent. Fortunately, he felt certain he knew where Shiba Mirabu must be.

Naoya emerged onto the balcony where the castle overlooked the Shiba training grounds below, and was rewarded with the sight of his brother speaking quietly with another man whose features were obscured by a basket hat and traveler’s cloak. Naoya frowned and hesitated for a moment, but there was no time for proper etiquette. Not now. Grim faced, he approached and bowed sharply, holding the hastily-written scroll out for Mirabu without saying a word.

The Phoenix Champion took the scroll with an equally grim expression and unrolled it quickly. His eyes scanned its contents quickly, then darted back to Naoya. “Where did this come from?” he asked.

“Our shugenja in Toshi Ranbo sent a message to those stationed here, and in Kyuden Isawa,” Naoya said. “The Masters are scattered across the land, working to rebuild from the war. They will not be able to convene until the morning.”

“By which time,” Mirabu said, “our forces could be well on their way.”

“We cannot wait, my lord,” Naoya said. “We must not.”

Mirabu crumpled the scroll in his fist. “This cannot be. Not now. Not just as…”

“Not just as I have returned?” the other man asked. “Do you fear that I will attempt to resolve this matter?”

The Champion hesitated for a moment. “You must understand, old friend. There are many who find your presence a matter of great concern. If you are to rejoin us after so long an absence, there needs to be a period of… adjustment.”

“Mirabu-sama,” Naoya said cautiously, “who is this?”

“Have you forgotten?” the stranger said. “Such ingratitude! After I saved you from that bear when we were children. I’m deeply hurt, Naoya.”

Naoya’s eyes widened and he took a half-step backwards. “Aikune?”

“Yes,” he said, removing his hat. “I wanted to speak to your brother before anyone else knew of my return. It seems providence has provided me the opportunity I require.”

Naoya frowned. “I do not understand.”

“Aikune feels that his absence during the war will foster resentment among our cousins,” Mirabu explained. “I have tried to explain that no one holds it against him. The Council could have summoned him, if they wished. They did not.”

“The stigma will remain,” Aikune said. “You know that it will. But that could be done away with. I can lead the Phoenix delegation. If the Emperor is saved, then many will forgive my past failings. If I am lost, then there are those who will breathe easier. The Phoenix benefit regardless.”

“Wait,” Naoya interjected. “How do you know what the message contained?”

“Forgive me,” Aikune said with a bow. “The Wish tends to… collect information. It is one of the few tendencies it has that I have little control over.”

“What will happen to the Wish in the Shadowlands?” Mirabu asked.

Aikune’s brow furrowed. “That I cannot say for certain. It fears the Shadowlands, for Isawa died there. Yet we both are confronting our fears in an ongoing effort to complete the Wish’s development. If we are successful, then it will one day no longer require me. It will become… something else.”

Mirabu shook his head. “We cannot take the risk. I have seen you do things only Elemental Masters are capable of. If speaking to the kami in the Shadowlands runs the risk of corruption, then we cannot permit the Wish to risk it.”

Aikune actually laughed. “Do not worry, old friend. The Wish does not beckon to the kami as shugenja do. There is no risk. All the same, I will restrict its power in that dark realm. I will not call upon it if doing so is a risk.”

“Then you will just be a man,” Naoya said. “You will have nothing beyond what any of us have.”

“Exactly,” Aikune said. “That is why I must go.”

•

Kyuden Bayushi

Daigotsu Soetsu sipped lightly at the now cooling tea set before him, all too aware that the shoji screen behind him had slid open with a hardly a whisper. It closed just as quietly, although Soetsu’s senses were far keener than most. Nevertheless, he could not track the movement of the man behind him, which was quite the accomplishment. There were precious few who were capable of such an act, even within the Scorpion lands.

“Tell me about the Tomb of the Seven Thunders, Soetsu-san,” Bayushi Paneki said quietly.

Soetsu put the tea down gently, his jade bindings clinking softly as he did so. “What is it you would like to know, Paneki-sama?”

“I would very much like to know its location and what it contains,” the Master of Secrets said. “What value does it have?”

“Sentimental value only, I’m quite sure,” Soetsu said. “But that can be an extremely important value, can it not?”

“I am interested in value of a more material nature,” Paneki said. “But by all means, continue.”

Soetsu nodded. “You are of course familiar with the many legends surrounding the Tomb. Some say that it marks the sight where the Thunders prepared for their battle with Fu Leng. Others believe Shinsei created it after the battle was concluded. Still others think that Hida created it after facing his son in combat, just moments before his own death. Who can say? There are few within the Shadowlands who value accurate historical accountings, after all.”

“The legends do not interest me,” Paneki said. “Where is it?”

“I do not know,” Soetsu admitted. “Many have searched for it over the centuries. So far as anyone knows, it has never been found. Not by the Lost, the Crab, or the Nezumi. The Chuda believe it may somehow be concealed from the eyes of those Tainted, perhaps as a result of something Shinsei may have done. Regardless, it is so far within the Shadowlands that the Crab cannot find it, and the Nezumi would not remember if they had found it in the first place.”

“So Shinsei may well have been there,” Paneki mused. “Interesting. That may explain much.”

“May I ask why you are so interested in an ancient legend?”

“No,” Paneki said simply. “What might be contained within the Tomb?”

Soetsu chuckled. “I have no idea. Relics belonging to the Thunders, perhaps? Lost writings of Shinsei? The remains of great Hida himself? No one has ever entered the Tomb. It may not even exist.”

Paneki was silent for a moment. “The Emperor is alleged to have entered the Shadowlands, perhaps seeking the Tomb,” he confessed after a moment. “There is a movement underway to reach him and protect him from the myriad of dangers within that wretched realm.”

“You may attract more attention to him in doing so,” Soetsu warned. “Your efforts may place him in more danger.”

“A risk that must be taken. Are you certain you cannot tell us where to find the Tomb?”

“I am certain,” Soetsu said.

“Unfortunate,” Paneki replied. “If the Emperor should perish, then your petition will be pointless, and you will cease to have any use to me whatsoever. Do you imagine that I am the sort of man who endures uselessness?”

“No,” Soetsu answered. “No, I imagine you are not.”

“Very wise,” Paneki said. “Aroru.” A man clad in black emerged from the shadows across the chamber from Soetsu. The Lost samurai had been looking in that very direction, and yet had seen nothing. Although he allowed no outward sign of his shock, inwardly he felt enormous discomfort that any agent of Paneki’s could get so close to him and yet remain complete undetected.

“Aroru,” Paneki said quietly. “You know what must be done.”

“Hai, my lord,” the man said. He turned and disappeared once more into the shadows, never making a sound or wasting a single movement.

“Pray he returns,” Paneki said quietly.

•

Shiro Shinjo

Shinjo Shono stepped into the stable, the refreshing, familiar scent of the horses he loved settling over him like a comforting blanket. Despite the bustling activity within the stable, it remained relatively quiet. It was a mandate for Shono’s stable, actually. He preferred that his horses have a quiet, calm environment to contrast the chaos of battle they were forced to endure all too often. The Shinjo daimyo walked slowly down the center aisle, stopping often to stroke a horse’s flank or feed one a piece of fruit from the bag on his hip. Finally, he reached the end and stood outside the westernmost stall, watching as the samurai within prepared his steed. After a long few moments, he finally spoke. “I imagine Akasha is rather upset.”

Moto Chen looked over at him with a blank expression. “I cannot imagine why you might think that.”

Despite the bleakness of the situation, Shono smiled. “I can only imagine what Genki might say in her situation.”

“It’s far worse than you think,” Chen said. “Being cursed at in the Naga language is almost unbearable. All those hissing sounds hurt my ears.”

Shono laughed, but his expression quickly soured. “This is an extremely dangerous task, Chen. Let me go in your place.”

“No,” Chen said at once. “The Khan has ordered me to go, and I shall. There will be no deviation from his orders. That would risk your command, and the honor of your entire family.” He glanced over his shoulder. “And I think you and I both know that your family’s hard-won honor is tenuous enough as it is.”

“Why would the Khan send you? You have not held a command since…”

“Since my brother discredited me before the court,” Chen finished. “I believe this is Chagatai’s way of allowing me to regain the face I lost in Ryoko Owari.” He hesitated. “And if I die, the Unicorn lose nothing.”

“A rather calculating use of one’s childhood friend,” Shono muttered.

“You know better than most what kind of burden command places upon a man,” Chen admonished. “Do not judge the Khan for the decisions he must make. What other option does he have?”

“He could send me,” Shono insisted.

“And accomplish what?” Chen demanded. “Risk the loss not only of a family daimyo, but the commander of the Junghar? Who would replace you as general? And for that matter, who would replace you as daimyo? Someone the Khan trusts? Unlikely.” He lowered his voice suddenly. “And placing you in harm’s way runs the risk of creating a martyr to your family’s more activist elements.”

Shono’s expression hardened. “The Shinjo are loyal to the Khan.”

“Yes, they are,” Chen agreed. “At least as long as you are. If you were to die, what would become of your family then?”

“He could send the Baraunghar,” Shono pressed. “Lixue could have her forces there far faster than any other fighting force.”

“The Khan has had the Baraunghar conducting maneuvers with the Khol for weeks,” Chen said. “He has plans for them, I think.”

“Chagatai is angry over the loss of his advance force,” Shono nodded. “He wishes access to Toshi Ranbo, but the Lion will never willingly allow his forces to travel through their lands. There is too much hatred over the war.”

Chen finished packing the bags on his steed. “A unit of Khol regulars awaits me at the southern province,” he said. “I have to leave now.” He paused for a moment. “Please protect them,” he said in a soft voice. “Ever since the attack…”

“No one will harm your wife and daughter,” Shono promised. “Not while I am alive. No one will threaten our families again, Chen.”

The former general nodded. “Well then,” he said, mounting his horse, “that makes riding to certain death a little bit easier.”

•

The Dragon Mountains near Shiro Kitsuki

The Dragon contingent had gotten off to a slow start departing the northern mountains, much to Mirumoto Rosanjin’s irritation. The conflict along their southern border made the notion of travel difficult, and although the Lion had withdrawn many of their forces in order to deal with the Khan’s incursion, there was little love lost between the two clans. With few options remaining, Rosanjin had made the decision to travel west from Shiro Kitsuki, then attempt to broker travel through the Unicorn provinces. He only hoped that mutual enemies would make the Unicorn more amenable to their passage.

Twenty of Rosanjin’s private guards and yojimbo rode with him. They were seasoned warriors one and all, and he trusted them with his life. A half-dozen Hitomi monks accompanied them as well, and although Rosanjin knew but one or two of them, he had never been given reason to question the loyalty or abilities of their order. He hoped that they would be enough to protect the Emperor.

At the head of their group, one of the monks suddenly wrenched sideways in his saddle and stared intently into the rocks on their right. Rosanjin sensed something amiss, and instantly signaled for them to stop. He waited a moment, then called out. “What is it, Morimasa? What do you see?”

“Nothing,” the monk said. “But there is something there all the same.”

Rosanjin dismounted and stepped toward the rocks, his hand on the hilt of his blade. “Show yourself,” he shouted. “I am Mirumoto Rosanjin, and I ride in the name of the Emperor! Face me if you wish, but I will brook no delays!”

For several moments there was nothing. Rosanjin was almost ready to believe that perhaps Morimasa had been mistaken when something emerged from the rocks very near him. He was startled and nearly drew his blade, but his mind finally registered what he was seeing before he did so.

A large, black Nezumi stood before Rosanjin, peering at him carefully. “You Rosanjin-Chief?” it asked.

“I am,” he answered. “Who are you?”

“Chet’tch,” it answered. “Son of great chief Set’tch’chet, chieftain of Broken Shinbone.”

Rosanjin relaxed somewhat. “Set’tch’chet is a great ally of the Dragon,” he said. “All his tribe are welcome in our lands.”

The warrior nodded, an expression his people had picked up to make communication with humans easier, Rosanjin suspected. “Set’tch’chet send greatest war pack to aid Rosanjin-Chief. Want to help Chief of Chief human. Make all humans Broken Shinbone allies.”

Rosanjin’s eyes narrowed slightly. “How did your chief come to know about the Emperor?” he asked cautiously.

“Tattered Ear send runners to all closest tribes when find out,” Chet’tch said. “Try to keep One Tribe told about all important things.” He paused, cocking his head slightly to the side. “Human tribes no do this. Always fighting, keeping secrets. Make no sense to Broken Shinbone.”

Rosanjin sighed lightly. “Nor to the Dragon, many times.” He smiled grimly. “You are welcome to join us, Chet’tch. You will serve your tribe well, I know. Perhaps when we meet with Yasuki Hachi near the Shadowlands, you can be of help to the Tattered Ear and Crippled Bone that will lead us.”

Chet’tch shook his head. “Broken Shinbone fight together. Help Tattered Ear and Crippled Bone, but no used to fighting side by side. Not safe.”

Rosanjin frowned slightly and glanced around. “There is but one of you.”

The Nezumi chittered in the manner that Rosanjin had come to understand was their version of laughter. “You think Chet’tch alone? I told you, greatest Shinbone warpack.” He made a loud clicking noise, and other Nezumi began appearing among the rocks. First there were two, then six, then a dozen, then more than Rosanjin could easily count.

“This will make travel through the Unicorn lands more difficult,” he said with a smile, “but the Broken Shinbone are welcome to join the Dragon on this journey.”

“Funny,” Chet’tch said, flashing his teeth. “I going to say Dragon can join Broken Shinbone.”

•

Deep in the Shadowlands…

The hulking beast known as Moshangoru bit deeply into the charred flesh and tore it free with his rock-like teeth. The fire had burned low, but he had little need of warmth or light. He merely preferred his meals scorched for some reason. It was one thing, one of a great many things, that set him apart from others of his kind.

The meat had a strange, almost bitter taste. It was not a bad taste, just unusual. Moshangoru had not recognized the thing he had killed, but that did not matter. There was no poison concocted yet in the mortal realm that could harm him.

A sudden instinct came over the gigantic ogre. Moving almost faster than could be seen, he dropped his meal and hefted his massive club, spinning to his right and bringing the weapon down with cataclysmic force. He caught only a blur of movement from the shadows before his club shattered a huge crater in the stone. The sound of his strike echoed across the barren plain, and he felt something cold and sharp pressing into his flesh just behind his ear. “Do not move,” a silky voice whispered in his ear. “Do not move, or I will empty your skull and feast on your eyes.”

Moshangoru’s face contorted in fury as he tried to contain the rage erupting inside his chest. “What do you want?” he growled.

“I have been gone a bit,” the voice said. “I’ve only just returned, and what do I discover? An ogre chatting with the demon lord Kyoso no Oni. Now whatever could you have to discuss?”

“The location of a Crab patrol,” the ogre said.

The steel bit slightly deeper into his neck, and a spasm of pain wracked his entire right side. “Do not lie to me, beast!” the voice hissed. “I know of the conflict that has erupted in my absence, just as I know that you are the sort to play both sides until a winner becomes obvious! Now, what did you tell Kyoso?”

The rage began to subside slightly, replaced by a nagging fear that he might actually die. “There was a human,” Moshangoru said. “He entered the Shadowlands alone. I think he was seeking the Tomb of the Seven Thunders. I… I think it was the Emperor.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Because I saw him before,” the ogre said. “At the battle in the City of the Lost, when the one called Tsudao died. I saw this one then. I would not forget his face.”

The voice in his ear was silent for a moment. Finally, it whispered “And did you tell Kyoso where to find this Tomb?”

“No,” Moshangoru said. “I never reveal everything. It is not safe.”

“You are going to tell me, though,” his assailant whispered. “You are going to tell me right now, and I will let you live.”

“What assurances can you offer me?” the ogre demanded. “Why should I believe you?”

“Foolish beast,” the voice said with a laugh. “Is the word of Lady Rekai not good enough for you?”

TO BE CONCLUDED AFTER THE WORLD CHAMPIONSHIPS