Keeping Secrets

by Shawn Carman

Somewhere in the shadows…

Lady Moon was only revealing half her face to the Empire, casting the landscape in a dim, almost impenetrable light. A mile away to the west, a vast forest loomed, the thick growth of trees blocking all light and most hope of navigating its dense depths. A mile to the east, there were open plains; nothing but tall grass to interrupt one’s vision. No matter how scarce the moonlight, there was nothing that could be concealed in such an expanse. In between the two, however, lay a series of plains dotted with massive trees, enough so that one could move from tree to tree if he were skilled enough and enough so that the trees cast a net of shadows across the long grass, transforming it into something altogether different.

Soshi Iaike stood perfectly motionless; his body conformed perfectly against the shadowed face of a larger tree. He could feel the steel of the blade in his hand, the pressure of the rough bark through his thin black clothing, and the crisp sting of the late winter air on the flesh around his eyes. He made no sound. He could hear the periodic whistling of the wind through the grass. He could hear the sound of a small animal making its way along, hunting for food, several hundred feet to his left. He listened desperately for any sound of his master, but he could hear nothing. Iaike and his sensei had been on the trail of two individuals that might have information that the Scorpion Clan required.

“Individuals” was not an altogether appropriate term, Iaike reflected, as he was no longer certain they were human at all, much less affiliated with the mysterious ronin that the Scorpion were currently scouring the Empire for information on. In the midst of tracking their prey through the wilderness, the two ronin had simply disappeared into nothingness. Iaike had been staring right at them at the moment they faded into the darkness, and for the briefest of moments, he had stood transfixed by what he saw. In that moment, he sensed his sensei next to him tense, and instantly he had turned to see what happened.

His sensei had not been there. He had disappeared as surely as had their targets.

Instinct had taken over. Iaike had darted from the scene, moving from one tree to the next with incredible speed. At each he stopped and held his flight for a single moment, listening for any sign of his master or of his opponents. He heard nothing. Ten minutes had passed, and the young infiltrator was likely a half a mile from where he had begun, following no set path but moving erratically to throw off any possible pursuit. He held his blade tightly, hoping that if they came for him, he could make them pay for his death. Perhaps then the shame of his failure would not be so great a burden on him as he reached the realm of judgment.

There was a whispering hiss, like a serpent moving through dried leaves that came from somewhere. Iaike listened intently, but the sound seemed to move about, coming first from one direction, then another, then above, then behind. The young man said nothing, gave no sign that he had heard or that he was even present, and made a tremendous effort to ignore the pounding of his heart in his chest. If he were to die here, he would give no satisfaction to his enemies. They would not see fear in the eyes of a Scorpion this night.

Something black and shapeless dropped from above, landing in the grass nearby. Iaike tensed, but could see nothing, even though he knew it had landed a short distance away. Something else moved in the trees above; but the sound was too faint, like that of a bird flitting from branch to branch. Something was terribly wrong.

With few options available, Iaike chose to confront the enemy. He sprang upward with no warning, his eyes scanning for any sign of movement, any sign of an enemy. He had been aloft for less than the span of a heartbeat when something clamped around his ankle and yanked him back toward the ground. The grip around his foot was like steel, and filled him with searing pain in the second before he came crashing down onto the cold earth. If it had not been for the grass softening his impact, Iaike was certain he would have shattered his legs.

Something loomed over him in the darkness, blotting out all traces of Lady Moon’s light. He lunged upward to kill it with his blade, his pain forgotten, but something struck his arm with the force of a tetsubo, numbing it to the shoulder and sending the blade spinning away in the grass. In the silence, Iaike could hear the blades of grass falling to the ground as the steel cut through them. “Foolish samurai!” a whisper from the shape above him spat. As he looked, he could see a human shape materialize out of a mass of shapeless shadow. The eyes peering down at him were hopelessly deep, and endless well of shadow and darkness. “What did you think to accomplish, save your death?”

Iaike kicked upward at the thing’s groin, but it faded away and reappeared instantly to the right, striking him across the jaw with an open hand strike that felt as though he had been kicked by a mule. Flashes of light swam in his vision, but he forced himself to stay present. “You will get nothing from me,” he hissed at the thing.

“You have nothing we want!” the man, if it was a man, laughed. He lifted a hand to deliver what Iaike knew would be the killing blow, but a sudden, louder rustle from above caught his attention. The man glanced upward for a moment, and in that moment his eyes widened at the sight of something plummeting toward him. In that second Iaike knew that he would disappear again, but a sudden sense of panic from his opponent revealed the truth: he could not. Something was stopping him.

The mysterious assailant neatly sidestepped the falling body of his comrade, a form nearly torn in two despite the complete lack of blood from its wounds. Iaike did not miss his chance, and this time his kick struck the man’s midsection. Air rushed out of his lungs in an audible gasp, and he bent over from the force of it.

Iaike’s sensei descended from the treetops like a wrathful Fortune made flesh. He moved forward so quickly that it was all the young ninja could do to follow his movements. His master made one, two, three quick strikes against their enemy, and in each strike Iaike could see a flash of the crystal hilt that his sensei’s weapon bore. Their enemy fell to the ground, his flesh torn and smoking slightly from the terrible wounds delivered by the larger man.

Bayushi Muhito stepped on the ninja’s one remaining wrist and knelt, one knee pinning his midsection to the ground and the other neatly against his throat. “Tell me about the Spider Clan,” Muhito said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“What?” the man might have tried to laugh, but it sounded like a dying rasp instead. “I do not know what you are talking about.”

Muhito held his dagger aloft, blade down, and then suddenly reversed it so that the crystal pommel faced downward. He held the substance against his prisoner’s face, and Iaike could hear a sickening sizzle as it burned him. “Tell me about the Spider Clan,” Muhito repeated.

“Wretched Scorpion!” the thing spat. “You will die!”

“Inevitably,” was all Muhito said. He reached within his robe and withdrew a vial of some sort. He began to take the stopper from it, then halted and looked up at Iaike, as if remember his presence. “You failed, but redeemed yourself,” he said flatly. “Well done.”

“Thank you, Muhito-sensei,” Iaike said breathlessly.

“Take note of our enemies,” Muhito said. “They rely upon their supernatural abilities. They believe that they are invincible, that they cannot be defeated by mere mortals. They do not understand the pain and sacrifice that is required to truly master the darkness A gift given to you cannot be appreciated so much as one earner through sweat of the brow and blood of the hands. Remember that, apprentice.”

“Hai, sensei.”

Muhito turned his attention back to his prisoner. “Tell me about the Spider Clan,” he repeated once more.

“I will tell you nothing!” the man snarled.

“You will tell me all that you know,” Muhito assured him. “I promise you that.”

•

The halls of Kyuden Bayushi were confusing to outsiders, with the styles that blended seamlessly from one corridor to the next changing suddenly as one rounded a corner. It was not at all uncommon for first time visitors, or indeed even frequent visitors to the Scorpion lands, to become easily disoriented and lost amid the labyrinth of halls and intersecting chambers. The Scorpion, of course, were all too happy to ensure that all their guests had personal escorts to see them wherever they needed to go. If the result of this was to ensure that no stranger was ever left unattended, or was capable of making their way through the palace unaided, then of course that was completely unintentional.

Bayushi Paneki, Champion of the Scorpion, walked through the passageways without looking, engrossed as he was in the contents of a small scroll in his hand. He frowned as he read it, nodding periodically, all the while expertly slipping through one doorway and into another, winding ever deeper into the palace’s inner workings. Finally, as he neared his destination, he frowned, and rolled the scroll tightly in one hand. He paused long enough to subject it to the flame of a candle on a decorative table in the hallway, watched as it burned beyond the halfway point, and then placed it in a small dish to allow it to bum to completion. He took a moment to inspect his glove for any trace of ash, and then stepped through the unguarded doorway into the chamber beyond.

As always, he felt the faint, familiar resistance as he passed through the arch, and was comforted to know that the wards placed by his Yogo attendants remained as strong as the day they had been placed. No one who had not received his express approval could enter his private study and audience chamber, not unless they were accompanied by a Yogo shugenja familiar with the wards. Even as he entered, Paneki heard the sound of light conversation and the tinkling of tea glasses. He smiled at the sight of his wife, Bayushi Miyako, serving tea to two of his guests. “Forgive me for keeping you waiting,” he said. “There was a matter that required my attention.”

“Of course, my lord,” one of the guests said. She was wearing a sturdy traveling cloak, and bore the trappings of a shugenja.

“Indeed,” the other said, bowing deeply. “It is our pleasure to await your convenience.”

“Thank you, Tsuneari.” He waited, gauging the other man’s reaction.

There was a look of completely genuine surprise in the man’s eyes, one that would have convinced absolutely anyone. To impress the Scorpion Champion via deception, after all, was no mean feat. “I am sorry, my lord, but I do not understand. I am Bayushi Nomen. Would you like me to fetch this Tsuneari for you?”

“My mistake,” Paneki said with a nod. “You have a similar profile.”

Nomen bowed. “I am told by many that I remind them of someone else.”

“I have no doubt,” Paneki said. “Before we delve into the events of the season,” he turned to the shugenja, “this is the first opportunity I have had to speak with you since the Jade Championship, Rieko.”

Yogo Rieko bowed her head. “I failed the Scorpion, my lord. I have brought shame to my family.”

            Paneki held up a hand. “None of that thank you,” he said dismissively. “I am far more interested in other matters. Tell me of this alleged prophet.”

“Kitsune Narako,” Rieko said at once. “A young woman of the Fox Clan, which at this point is essentially the same as the Mantis Clan. At the time of the incident she was nineteen years old.”

“Is this in any way related to the difficulty the Fox have been experiencing with the bandits in their forest?” Miyako asked.

“It appears that Narako was brought to the Championship by a pair of young samurai in hopes of seeking aid from the Mantis. The two apparently sought permission from their respective clans to investigate an errant message from the Fox to the Mantis that was discovered in the Imperial City.”

“Presumptuous,” Paneki mused. “Respective clans, you said. Who are they?”

“A Crane and a Dragon,” Rieko answered. “Kitsuki Taiko and Kakita Hideo are their names.”

“I know the name Hideo,” Paneki said. “The one Jimen shamed at the Emerald Championship, is it?”

“The same, my lord.” She withdrew a scroll from her obi. “In anticipation of your questions, I have gathered all known information regarding the lineage of both samurai, as well as of Narako.” She bowed her head. “I hope you do not think me too forward.”

“Never.” Paneki took the scroll and glanced over it briefly. “Nothing particularly surprising here. The boy is a fifth cousin of the Doji Champion, although a particularly wealthy branch. The girl has no family connections or distinctions to speak of.” He frowned. “There is little here on the Fox girl.”

“There is little information about the Fox available,” Rieko admitted. “From what I was able to determine, her family line branched off from the Fox Champion’s line roughly seven generations ago, and that of course refers to Ryosei’s line rather than the new Champion, to whom she bears no apparent relation. There is a shugenja tradition in her family, of course, but nothing in terms of this apparent ‘gift’ she possesses.”

“Is it possible that the alleged intermingling of human lines with those of the kitsune spirits that dwell within the forest could produce something like this?”

Rieko made a non-committal gesture. “If there is anyone in the Empire who possesses the knowledge to answer such a question with certainty, my lord, then none among my family or the Soshi know who such a person might be.”

“Spirits,” Paneki cursed. “Nothing of any significant merit has ever emerged from the accursed spirit realms. Would that the Heavens would seal the boundaries between our realm and them for eternity.” He paused for a moment. “Or at least for my lifetime. Regardless, what is our status on the new Jade Champion?”

“My understanding is that Jimen-sama has placed himself in a position to seem as the lesser evil, in the hopes that Daigo will prefer working alongside a Scorpion to being used as a pawn by the Imperial families. Under different circumstances, I might rate the chances of his gambit succeeding at roughly half, but Crab are difficult to anticipate even under ideal circumstances.”

“And your status with regard to this Kuni Daigo?”

Rieko pursed her lips in thought. “I made contact with Daigo following the Championship. As per my instructions I alluded to the presence and function .of the Kuroiban. Since that time I have maintained correspondence with him, and although he has written me but once, I sense a great deal of curiosity in him for now. I believe he will offer me a place in his organization, if for no other reason than to learn more about the Kuroiban.”

“Excellent. Feed him whatever lies he needs to hear in order to gain his trust. We will need as many of our agents within the Jade Legion as possible if we are to capitalize upon the instability at the Imperial level.” He favored Rieko with a slight smile. “Well done, Rieko-san. You are dismissed to return to your duties.”

“Thank you, Paneki-sama.” The priestess rose to depart. As she reached the doorway, Paneki cleared his throat slightly. She glanced over her shoulder. “My lord?”

“Your formal assessment aside, what is your thought on this prophetess?”

Rieko thought for a moment. “I believe she is genuine, my lord. I sensed nothing of deception within her, although I saw her only briefly. If her gift is not genuine, then she is being manipulated by someone far more skilled and powerful. She is not an enemy in and of herself.”

Paneki nodded, and Rieko disappeared from the chamber. “The Scorpion have an unfortunate history with regard to prophecies,” he said, almost to himself. “Nevertheless, we must consider her words as carefully as possible. She foretold the rise of a new Emperor, perhaps one of divine ascension. I see several significant problems with that possibility. Nomen, would you agree?”

“Absolutely,” the courtier answered at once. “The implication that the Heavens will in some way be involved is first among our concerns. The Fortunes themselves have not proven sympathetic to our cause. We could not survive another blow like Bishamon’s curse.”

Paneki grimaced at the mention of it. A few short years ago, the Fortune of Strength had manifested in the Scorpion lands and passed judgment on the clan for failing to protect Rosoku, the descendant of Shinsei, from being murdered by the forces of the Shadowlands even as he tried to aid the people of Rokugan during a spiritual crisis. The thought of it still angered Paneki. At no point had Rosoku been in the care of the Scorpion. Furthermore, he had been within the Imperial Palace at the time of his death. How was it a failure of his clan? He pushed the thoughts aside before they angered him further. “Agreed,” he finally said. “And the prophecy clearly states that one clan will be punished by the new Emperor. We are far too popular an enemy to allow any other clan to ascend in our place, as many would choose to blame us for their woes.”

“The Crab, certainly, and possibly the Mantis,” Nomen agreed. “We cannot discount the notion that the Lion or Crane might do so as well, particularly if the Lion conflict with the Unicorn is resolved prior to a new Emperor taking the throne.”

“It must not happen,” Paneki said. “Who among the many candidates seems to have the most support at this point?”

“Otomo Hoketuhime,” Nomen said at once. “Her lineage coupled with the Crane’s unilateral support unquestionably places her at the forefront of the matter.”

“Imperial ties are difficult to overcome.” Paneki rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We will need a similar answer.”

“Perhaps Jimen?”

Paneki shook his head. “No. He is too much of an unknown quantity, and regarded by too many as a potential threat. Placing him at the forefront will only attract ire, not support.”

He paused for a moment. “Norachai.”

“Ah, the Protector of the Imperial City,” Nomen nodded.

“See to it that his support level is increased, and make certain it does not appear obvious that it is clan-based. Go through our intermediaries whenever possible. I want it to appear that others within the Imperial City are pushing him as a possibility. And arrange for the blame for what happened last summer to be shifted toward the Empress’ Guard.”

“Of course my lord,” Nomen said. He hesitated for a moment. “There... is one other contender who is gathering considerable support among different clans as well, Paneki-sama.”

“Who?”

            “Togashi Satsu.”

Paneki frowned. “I had hoped that our mild deterrents during the winter court season might address that issue,” he said, his voice genuinely remorseful. “If that is not the case then I fear we may need to take more drastic action.”

“Is it not possible,” Miyako interjected, “that if Satsu takes the throne, the long-standing alliance between our clans will protect us from any possible repercussions?”

“It is possible,” the Champion admitted, “but to leave such a thing to chance is far too great a risk, and one I am unwilling to take. Beyond that, we must remember the tasks given to Bayushi by the first Hantei. One was to protect the Emperor from threats he could not see, and the other to watch over his brother Togashi. Much though I would wish otherwise, we cannot deny that Satsu and Togashi are much the same.”

“What is your will, my lord?”

“Hoketuhime is virtually unassailable in the court,” Paneki mused, “and we have no desire to attract undue attention to any action we take against the Dragon directly. Perhaps there is a solution that can discredit both simultaneously with no apparent involvement from us?”

Beneath his mask, one of the many Scorpion known as Bayushi Nomen smiled broadly. “I think I have an idea that might do exactly that, my lord.”