Honor’s Veil, Part I

 

by Nancy Sauer

Editing and Development by Fred Wan

 

Kyuden Ikoma

 

It was proving to be a very unpleasant winter, Daidoji Kikaze reflected to himself. Having been sent to Kyuden Ikoma was bad enough. Arriving to find Yasuki Jinn-Kuen, who presented himself as the Crab daimyo of the Yasuki and who clearly felt it was his duty as such to embroil Kikaze in as much trouble as possible, was worse. Worst of all, very little of that trouble had actually materialized, because the woman who sat before him now had invested considerable resources in keeping Jinn-Kuen in check. He would almost have preferred to have been left to the Crab’s mercy.

“Tea, Kikaze-san?” Ikoma Yasuko enquired.

“Yes, thank you,” he said automatically. Scorpion, he thought to himself. Or Lion. In either case he had been brought up to regard her as an enemy, and in either case he currently lived under her protection. He accepted the cup she passed to him and sniffed at the familiar fragrance that rose from it. Spring’s Smile was a tea from the Phoenix provinces, from bushes planted in cherry groves and picked at the height of the blooming season. He had been served it several times this past week by various courtiers, which told him that the news from Sakura no Yuki Mura must have finally filtered in.

“I was so pleased that you were able to accept our invitation to Winter Court,” Yasuko said. Her smile was warm and natural-looking. “Kyuden Ikoma has never had the honor of hosting the Daidoji daimyo.”

“It is I who am honored,” Kikaze replied automatically. “Both in serving my Champion here, and in the great hospitality you have shown me.”

Yasuko laughed slightly. “You need not be so formal here, Kikaze-san,” she said.

The Daidoji sipped his tea, delaying a moment for extra thought. “Consider it a mark of my respect for you, and appreciation of your trouble on my behalf.”

“I am warmed by the thought of your respect,” Yasuko said. “But I have taken no trouble to speak of.” She paused to fuss with the sleeves of her over-robes, layers of yellow over green meant to evoke the keirra rose. Kikaze watched her in silence for a moment. He had brought that set of robes, and several others, as gifts when he came.

“Yasuko-san, I am not a courtier but I can recognize a dangerous man when I see one.” Or woman, he added silently to himself. “Yasuki Jinn-Kuen is dangerous and he has made his intentions towards me very clear.”

“Ah. Jinn-Kuen.” Yasuko waved one hand languidly, as if batting the name out of the air. “He would more dangerous to you were it not for his Champion.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Hida Kuon has never taken the opportunity to show his respect for courtiers and the courts of the Empire. If he cannot be bothered to attend the forums where the clans resolve their disputes in a civilized fashion, then he cannot expect our intervention in his conflict with the Crane.” Yasuko stopped and favored him with conspiratorial smile. “Jinn-Kuen feels this lack, when he looks for allies to move against you.”

Kikaze thought this over. “And yet, he does have allies.”

“A few,” Yasuko conceded, “and those mostly in the Mantis. That is to be expected: they follow the koku, and there is a profit to be made in trading with the Crab when many others will not. Then too, they seem eager to challenge the Crane’s share of the markets. But I need not explain such things to the lord of the Daidoji.”

“No. The Mantis are one of our greatest trading partners–and have the potential to be our greatest rivals.” After the Lion and the Scorpion, he amended silently.

“I am certain that the strength and honor of the Crane will be sufficient to the challenge,” Yasuko said. “And you can be sure that the Lion will act as honor dictates in such a conflict.”

 

           

Matsu Aoiko carefully looked over the map, making sure that the tokens scattered across it matched up with the items on her list. She could hardly contain her excitement. When she and her husband had been sent here she had been looking forward to a quiet winter of preparation for the coming battles against the Unicorn. Those battles would be glorious, but they would have to go on without her. Now she was involved in a much grander campaign.

“A winter of healing, a spring of strife,” Ikoma Otemi said as he came up beside her. He rubbed the scar on his throat gently as he regarded the map.

“Much like any other spring,” Aoiko said. “Save for the stakes.”

“Otemi-sama, is this wise?” Ikoma Akiyama asked. The poet approached the table from the other side and waved over the map it held.

“Ask the Crab if it is wise to go to war without the resources for it,” Otemi answered.

Akiyama bowed his head in acknowledgment of the point. “But one can still ask if this is necessary. Otomo Hoketuhime is gaining more and more support in the courts, and I do not think that she would be a bad Empress–she is an honorable woman with a deep respect for the traditions of our ancestors.”

“How many armies does she command?” Aoiko asked.

“I do not see how that question matters,” Akiyama said.

“It is the only question that matters,” Otemi said. “Even the Phoenix admitted it, when they enforced their peace on us in our battle with the Unicorn. Toshi Ranbo, and the Throne, will go to those who are strong enough to hold them.” He tapped the map in front of him. “After we have dealt with Chagatai we will turn to acquiring the strength needed to gain the Throne.”

“And what shall I tell our allies, the Crane?” Akiyama said. “They are sure to be unhappy at our actions.”

Otemi gave him a sideways look. “Tell them you are sure that the honorable will prosper under our reign.”

 

           

Kyuden Bayushi

 

Winter in the Scorpion lands was far milder than in the snowy Phoenix provinces. Isawa Emori had known that before coming to Kyuden Bayushi, but he hadn’t quite appreciated how much of a difference it made. From where he sat in one of the palace’s many receiving rooms he could look out over one of the gardens and see the swelling buds of the trees, hear the excited murmur of the earth kami. Back home, they would all be deeply asleep under a blanket of snow; here they waited impatiently for the first southern winds to unleash spring.

“Master Emori? Are you all right?”

Emori startled slightly. “I am fine,” he said, feeling somewhat embarrassed. “Please forgive me–I was distracted by your garden. The song of the earth kami is very clear here.”

Bayushi Paneki smiled beneath his mask. “No apologies are necessary–it is natural for a priest of your sensitivity to be aware of such things. Indeed, without your clan’s knowledge of the ways of the kami my clan would still be struggling to heal our cursed fields. We cannot thank you enough for lessening the severity of our famine. Or for your discretion in providing such help.”

“We were happy to help,” Emori said. “If one’s knowledge is never used, then one has wasted the effort taken to acquire it.”

“You speak great truth,” Paneki said. “I would expect such great wisdom from your clan, after the recent events in Toshi Ranbo.”

“You are too kind,” Emori said, wondering what Paneki was referring to. The Elemental Council had all agreed that they could not ask the Dragon of Fire’s avatar to remain in the city indefinitely, but he somehow felt that this wasn’t what Paneki was referring to.

“Indeed not,” Paneki said. “It was a masterful play, maneuvering the Lion into enforcing peace at the capital. At the cost of only one man’s honor, you have made it impossible for them to cause trouble at Toshi Ranbo, and set them against any other clan who would wish to try. Simply brilliant.”

“Shiba Nayoa has always served the Council to the best of his ability,” Emori said, keeping a carefully neutral expression on his face.

“Any lord would rejoice to be served by such a man,” Paneki said. “And I am pleased that the Council is showing such cleverness in their administration of the capital. Though I do not wish to offend when I say that I hope the Heavens bless Rokugan with an Emperor soon.”

“Not at all. I, and all the Masters, hope for such a thing also.”

“There have been a number of people put forward for such a thing, but I myself have come to support Otomo Hoketuhime.”

For a moment Emori let the surprise he felt show through. “Lady Otomo? She is the candidate advanced by the Crane, is she not?”

“Exactly,” Paneki said. “The Crane Clan has been a fixture in the Imperial Courts from the beginning of the Empire, and their skill in politics can never be doubted. I cannot think of a better recommendation for an Emperor–or Empress–than their approval.”

“You have a definite point, Paneki-sama,” Emori said. “I will pass this observation along to my clan, for their consideration.”

“Thank you,” Paneki said. “That would please me greatly.”

 

           

In one of the remoter wings of Kyuden Bayushi, where no visitor was ever housed, two women walked down the corridor. The older woman walked with a dignified glide. The younger one had a springier step that was not hampered by the bundle of papers she carried.

“Yogo Honami’s name was spoken with awe by my sensei,” Bayushi Kurumi said. “I cannot believe that I am going to meet her.”

Shosuro Mizuno smiled indulgently. She could remember clearly her first meeting with Honami, and the terror that that meeting had inspired in her at the time. “Be polite. She is an old woman with little patience, and she has Paneki-sama’s ear. “

“Yes, Mizuno-sama,” Kurumi said.

Further conversation was cut off by their arrival. A servant admitted them and ushered them into the lady’s sitting room. Honami was a short, gray-haired old woman with dim brown eyes and legs that vanished a few inches above where her ankles would have been. Both of her visitors did their best to ignore this fact.

Mizuno bowed deeply to their hostess. “Yogo-sama,” she said, “I am Shosuro Mizuno, and this young woman is my assistant, Bayushi Kurumi.”

Honami spent a long moment studying the youngest woman. “Apparently our famine is even worse than I have been led to believe,” she said.

“How so, Yogo-sama?” asked Mizuno.

“Even the silkworms must be starving, if we can no longer produce enough fabric for decent clothing.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Kurumi dropped the bundle she was carrying and knelt down before the old woman. “Please excuse my lack of good sense, Yogo-sama,” she said humbly. “I will try to apply more thoughtfulness in the future.”

Honami snorted and turned away. “Let’s not delay further. I’m not getting any older, but you two are. Paneki wants advice on something with the Dragon?”

“Yes,” Mizuno said. “They are planning on sending an ambassador to the gaijin of Medinaat al’Salaam, and we need to determine if there are any Dragon whose career we wish to advance by recommending them for that post.”

“I see,” Honami said. She settled herself down on a cushion next to a small desk and waved her visitors to sit as well. “You have a list of possible candidates?”

“Yes, Yogo-sama.” Kurumi quickly opened the bundle and spread the papers out on the desk.

Honami picked up one of the sheets at random. “Kitsuki Ryushi,” she read aloud, scanning over the page. “A good man, but no obvious threat.” She dropped the page off to the left of the table, then picked up another. “Kouri…this one could be bothersome. Perhaps he could be usefully employed as an ambassador.” She dropped the page to the right of the table. “Do either of you have any opinions?”

“Yogo-sama, this Togashi Kisu seems to be unusually perceptive,” Kurumi said.

Honami rolled her eyes. “When we start using koans to kill people a Togashi might be a threat.” She picked up the sheet with his name and dropped it to the left.

“The girl, Taiko, seems to be making a name for herself,” Mizuno said.

“Hmm,” Honami said. She picked up the sheet and read it. “She seems a little young for an ambassador, but it might be good to recommend her for the ambassador’s staff–if we are lucky she’ll eat something that disagrees with her.” She placed the sheet to the right. “I hope she got some use out of that Kakita before she cut him loose. It isn’t every day the Fortunes drop a man like that in your lap.” Mizuno’s face stayed a placid mask; Kurumi’s eyes bugged out slightly. Honami ignored them both and picked up another sheet. “Mirumoto Agito… dear me, a Dragon that remembers the rest of the Empire exists. How novel.” She dropped the sheet off to the right.

“Novel, but not unique,” Muzuno said. “Kitsuki Iweko has also been active, to the point that some of her kin have suggested her as a possible Empress.”

“A Kitsuki on the Throne? Simply unacceptable.” The old woman picked up the relevant sheet and placed it on the right. “This one must receive our highest recommendation.”

“It will be done, Yogo-sama,” Mizuno said.

Honami read through the remainder rapidly, sorting them into the two stacks. When she was done she handed both to Kurumi. “My recommendations,” she said. “Did Paneki have anything else for me?”

“No,” Mizuno said. “Was there anything you would like us to take care of?”

“Not today,” Honami said. “But the two of you should come back sometime for tea. I don’t get out much any more, and except for my weekly go game I don’t get much company.”

“Of course,” Mizuno said. She and Kurumi made their goodbyes and left.

Outside in the hallway Kurumi gave her companion an uneasy look. “Mizuno-sama, who does she play go with?”

“No one knows,” the Shosuro said, and walked off.