Preparations, Part I

 

by Rusty Priske and Shawn Carman

Edited by Fred Wan

 

 

The Dragon

 

The small group of six Dragon samurai, most wearing Kitsuki mons, walked past the guard posts at Kyuden Tonbo, completely un-accosted. When they were close enough for the guards to distinguish their faces, rather than ask the Dragon’s business, the Dragonfly sentries sent a runner back towards the castle.

The Dragon did not acknowledge the bowing Tonbo as they went past.

When the six samurai reached the main gates of Kyuden Tonbo, they found them open with a contingent of Dragonfly samurai and courtiers waiting for them. The man in the greatest finery – though bright colors did not completely hide that the clothes seemed to be donned in a hurried manner – stepped forward and bowed very deeply. “Togashi Satsu. We of the Dragonfly are greatly honored by your visit. If we had but known you were coming I would have arranged for a better reception.”

Satsu returned the bow, though not nearly as deeply. “Tonbo Dayu. Your hospitality is appreciated, as always, but we have not come for ceremony. I would ask you to please seal all gates after we enter, until we have had a chance to speak in private.” The Dragon then walked past the Dragonfly and into the castle.

A look of concern crossed Dayu’s face but he bowed as Satsu passed and quickly turned Satsu’s request into orders to the guards.

 

           

Satsu politely declined Dayu’s offer to sit and waited until the room was cleared, first of Dayu’s people, and then of the Dragon Champion’s escort. Satsu remained impassive throughout, although Dayu’s discomfort seemed to increase with each passing moment. Once the others were gone, Dayu bowed. “Forgive me my lord, but this is most unusual. I have to assume that this has something to do with the announcement of the tournament?”

Satsu raised an eyebrow. “The tournament?”

“Yes, my lord,” Dayu said. “Word has spread throughout the Empire. Surely you must be aware of the announcement in the Imperial Court some days ago?”

“I am,” Satsu said. “I have delegated the task of handling it to my capable vassals among the Mirumoto, however.” He smiled slightly. “I have many followers who were enthusiastic followers of Hitomi,” he explained. “Though she and my father had differences during their mortal lives, her patronage of the Dragon Clan as Lady Moon never wavered. You will understand if I require more information before I blindly accept her successor, and its vassals, as benevolent entities.”

Dayu bowed, keeping his face toward the floor. “I did not think, my lord. I beg your forgiveness for my impudence.”

“That is unnecessary,” Satsu said. “Rise, please. Let us discuss the true nature of my visit. You know about the attacks around the Empire some short time ago.”

This was not phrased as a question, and there was no need for it to be, but Dayu responded anyway. “Yes, of course.”

“The Dragon suffered, as did all the Great Clans. Assassins claimed the lives of Tamori Shaitung and Tamori Nakamuro, as well as others.”

Dayu bowed his head. “Yes, I had heard. The loss is a tragedy for all of Rokugan, as well as a terrible crime against the empire. Were the villains apprehended?”

Satsu’s expression did not change, but there was a hint of pride in his voice as he said, “The assassins may have claimed their victims, but they found that the daimyo of the Tamori and an Elemental Master were no simple sheep. The cost to the assassins was their lives.” He paused and then said, “Though the cost to us was greater.”

Dayu nodded. “As you say, Togashi-sama.”

“The price is not paid. The balance has not been achieved. More must pay for this injury.”

Dayu frowned. “From the reports I have heard, this was a very coordinated effort. I am certain there are more guilty parties to be punished. Do you have any idea who sent the assassins? I do not set much stock in rumor and the mumbling in the empire leads to those who you would trust to not…” he trailed off after seeing the anger simmering beneath Satsu’s calm exterior.

“I also do not place trust in rumors. I have not needed to.” Satsu paused again. “I asked the Kitsuki to investigate and they have brought back information that has led me here.”

Dayu looked shocked. “Here? I can assure you, Togashi-sama, that the Dragonfly had nothing to do with this!”

“The assassins gained passage through our lands using papers issued here. Yet we had not been notified that they were coming.”

“That is not the Dragonfly serve the Dragon, I assure you!” Dayu looked nervous, but Satsu believed his surprise was genuine. “We issue those papers, through our long-standing agreement, but you are always notified. We are your servants in this matter.”

Satsu nodded. “I do not doubt you are speaking the truth as you know it, Tonbo Dayu. However, the Kitsuki are very seldom wrong. I wish to speak to the person who approves these papers.”

Dayu bowed. “Right away, Togashi-sama. His name is Tonbo Rintaro. I will have him brought here immediately.”

“No. We shall go to him.”

 

           

Rintaro sat in his private chamber, sipping tea. Like most rooms in Kyuden Tonbo, his room was bright and airy, though still quite simple in its appointments. It was not to Rintaro’s taste at all, but it was a minor sacrifice.

His hand went quickly to the tanto hidden beneath the table as the door to his chamber burst open suddenly. His aide, Norogumi, led the figures into the room. “My apologies, Rintaro-sama, but they insisted…”

Rintaro waved his aide aside as he realized the identities of those behind him. He rose to his feet, placing his teacup on the low table as he did so. “These chambers all belong to Tonbo Dayu, and he can enter them when he likes. And of course Togashi Satsu is always welcome.” He bowed deeply.

Dayu declined to return Rintaro’s bow. Instead he said simply, “Togashi Satsu has some questions about visitors to the Dragon lands. Give him whatever information he needs.”

Rintaro bowed again. “Certainly. In this task I serve the Dragon as much as the Dragonfly. How can I help you, Togashi-sama?”

Satsu motioned to one of the Dragon samurai who walked behind him. The samurai handed his champion a scroll who then offered it to Rintaro. “On this scroll are four names of people granted travel papers into Dragon lands by the Dragonfly. I need to know everything about them.”

“Of course, Togashi-sama.” Rintaro took the scroll and handed it off to Norogumi. “Get what he needs.”

Norogumi nodded silently and left the chamber through a second doorway.

“Now, Togashi-sama, may I ask what this concerns? Have we been remiss in some way?”

“You have. The least offense could be not notifying us that these papers were issued. That itself is a breach of trust and duty. Whether that leads to more serious charges is what I wish to determine.”

Rintaro’s face looks as surprised as Dayu’s had, but there was also a tinge of fear mixed in. “I assure you that we would never issue such papers without passing word to you, Togashi-sama. There must be some error.”

Before further words could pass, Norogumi returned, bowing as he entered. In his hands he grasped the scroll offered by the Dragon, but nothing else. Rintaro’s expression turned to annoyance. “Well? Where are the records?”

Norogumi bowed again. “With deepest apologies, Rintaro-sama. These names do not appear in our records. We have no indication that we ever issued papers to these people.”

Rintaro turned back to Satsu and with a sigh of relief said, “There, Togashi-sama. That would explain it. The papers must have been forgeries.”

Without waiting for a request, the Kitsuki samurai offered a second scrap of paper to his champion, who then turned back and offered it to Rintaro. “The Kitsuki say that it is not a forgery. You will of course understand that I have tremendous faith in their abilities.”

Rintaro looked at the paper, torn and charred. “It does seem authentic, unfortunately,” he said slowly. “These were issued by one of my staff. Tonbo Yaichiro. I think I would like to have a few words with him.”

Satsu’s eyes never left Rintaro. “As would I.”

 

           

“Yaichiro! Explain this!” Rintaro’s eyes flashed in anger at the younger man.

Yaichiro looked from Rintaro to the important personages behind him and down to the paper thrown to the table in front of him. “They are travel papers.” His shoulders were stiff and his face was filled with unease.

As Yaichiro stood, Rintaro stepped forward, yelling very close to his subordinate’s face. “Why were they issued? Why was word not sent to the Dragon that they were coming?”

Before Yaichiro could answer, Satsu said, “Be very careful of your answer, Tonbo. Any falsehoods could have dire implications, and be assured that I will know if you lie.”

Yaichiro paused, clearly terrified and Dayu said, “Speak! If you aided these assassins in any way, I would have you say so, here and now!”

The clerk looked between his three accusers and while the fear never really left his face, it was joined by a look of stubbornness. “You have reached your conclusions already, haven’t you? I helped the killers gain access to their targets.”

Dayu shook his head, not wanting to believe his ears. “A Dragonfly helped them succeed in their mission.”

Yaichiro stared at Satsu, “Their success was not complete, it seems.” He smiled mirthlessly. Without warning he rose and darted for one of the rear exits, his speed out of all proportion for a simple scribe.

Satsu crossed the room in the span of a heartbeat, suddenly standing in the Dragonfly’s path. He struck once, a light blow landing on the right side of the man’s abdomen, and his legs suddenly collapsed beneath him. Before he even struck the floor, Satsu had landed another blow, this time on the right shoulder, and the man’s right arm spasmed and hung uselessly at his side. Yaichiro collapsed on the floor, resting on his knees, three of his limbs refusing to obey his commands. “Tell me who has done this,” Satsu said.

Yaichiro gasped for breath. “Do you not think there are enough who hate you and your clan that would wish this on you? Maybe this was all my idea!”

Satsu seized the man by the throat, his inscrutably eyes boring deep into the man’s soul. “You are nothing. You are a traitor and a cat’s-paw for something greater than you. Whoever did this has chosen targets across most of Rokugan. Did you expect me to believe that a lowly clerk has orchestrated this action?”

Yaichiro said nothing, but Dayu was quaking with raged. “Speak, you filth! Enter the next life with at least one less sin staining our family’s honor!”

Satsu remained completely impassive despite the circumstances. “Speak. Who gave the order?”

Yaichiro smiled wretchedly. “Why not ask your wife’s clan?”

Anger flickered across Satsu’s face, but he released the man, who collapsed flat on the floor and gasped for breath. “Execute this traitor,” he said calmly, and the Tonbo guardsman accompanying Dayu gladly complied. Satsu turned and left the chamber without witnessing the act.

Before following the Dragon Champion, Dayu turned to Rintaro. “I will wish to meet with you as soon as I am finished speaking with Togashi Satsu. We must find out how this was possible.”

Rintaro bowed. “Yes, Dayu-sama. It shall be done.”

 

           

“Your samurai have been given full access to Yaichiro’s chambers and belongings.”

“Yes, Dayu-san. The Kitsuki are quite thorough.” Satsu looked lost in thought.

Dayu appeared uneasy. “What was found? I have no wish to intrude in your business, my lord, but I feel it is essential that I discover the extent of the treachery that…”

“Took place without your notice?”

Dayu looked away from Satsu’s gaze, his face a mask of shame. “I was going to say, within the lands of the Dragonfly.” He looked back to the Dragon champion. “Much as you would insist the same in your lands. I need to know what other Dragonfly are traitors. I will have them killed quickly, or perhaps not so quickly. By betraying you they have also betrayed me.”

Satsu nodded. “There are few. The trail leads away from Kyuden Tonbo.”

“Then Yaichiro was telling the truth? The rumors are correct and it was the Scorpion?”

Satsu said nothing.

 

           

“I am afraid I have some difficult news for you, Norogumi.”

Rintaro’s aid bowed his head. “I understand, Rintaro-sama. I know my duty.”

“There needed to be something giving Yaichiro access to my records. You need to be that link. Daigotsu will be informed of your sacrifice.”

“It is my honor, Rintaro-sama. Your reputation must be preserved. It is unfortunate that the trail came this close to you and your work here.”

Rintaro nodded. “It is unfortunate to lose you and Yaichiro, Norogumi, but we have gained in other ways.”

“I assume you mean directing the suspicion to the Scorpion.”

“That is a benefit, but I am speaking about something else very important and unexpected. Do you know why we have to keep our distance from the Dragon lands themselves?”

“The Jade Mirror,” Norogumi spat. “And Satsu himself, of course.”

“Yes. The same Satsu who stood in front of Yaichiro and told him that he would know if he was lying. The same Satsu who stood in front of me and had no idea that I was anything other than who I said I was.”

Norogumi smiled. “I will enter the next world with joy in my heart, sensei.”

 

           

The Mantis

 

The Shining Court of the Celestial Heavens defied all mortal terms that might be employed to describe it. Its beauty was beyond all imagining, beyond all words. It was where the Sun and Moon held court, and perhaps busier now than ever before. The ascension of the Jade Sun and Obsidian Moon had fundamentally altered the Heavens themselves. What had once been broken and imperfectly recreated had been recreated once more, this time properly. The ramifications of that event had not yet subsided.

This cannot be permitted to occur, rumbled the voice of Thunder.

It is inevitable. It shall happen as ordained. The Order is above all else.

Thunder looked at Fire with a discerning expression. Ours is not to question, but to obey.

Thunder coiled and uncoiled in a demonstration of its agitated state. The mortal Kamoko is permitted to remain. Why not the mortal Yoritomo?

You know that the mortal Kamoko is permitted to remain on the luxury of the Kami, Air said softly. They are the children of Amaterasu and Onnotangu. The Jade Sun and the Obsidian Moon wish to honor them and the memory of their parents. The mortal Kamoko will be permitted to remain in place of their lost sister until such time as she returns.

This is unjust, Thunder said. It must not stand.

The choice is not yours to make, Celestial boomed. This is not for such as us to debate. The once-mortal must be expunged from the Heavens unless they have the patronage of another. The minor Fortunes, the souls of the dead Emperors… these alone are to be permitted. No others may dwell among the splendors of the Heavens. So it has been decreed.

There is nothing that can be done to alter this, Water agreed. It is as it will be.

Thunder was silent, considering. There is something that can be done, it finally said.

You must not consider this, Void whispered. Your intention will unmake you.

I have no choice, Thunder said. It is my purpose.

Your purpose is not to cozy with mortals! Celestial said, its voice nearly a roar. You are the patron of heroes! Your call is to inspire!

None have ever been more inspired than he, Thunder said.

Your place among us will be forfeit, Earth rumbled. Your place among the Heavens will be his. You shall be cast out, and your duty will become all the more difficult as a result. You know this to be true.

I do, Thunder answered. It changes nothing.

Such temerity! Celestial’s tone was indignant. Such gall! Your ties to the mortals have corrupted you! Do as you must. The Heavens shall be grander without your presence!

I regret that we must be at odds, the dragon said, but my course is unwavering. I shall cede a portion of my divinity to the mortal Yoritomo. He shall stand among the Heavens not as Fortune, but as an equal to the Kami. His position shall be assured.

It is done, came the mournful tone of Air. And now, it is you who have no place here. The Heavens reject you, Thunder. Be gone from this place forevermore.

 

           

The ship had not yet even fully reached the dock before the young messenger leaped from the deck. She hung gracefully in the air for a single pristine moment, then landed nimbly on the dock and was running. She darted past several others assembled on the docks, many of whom swore at her or at the very least levied scathing glares that, under different circumstances, might have made the young woman very uncomfortable. Today, however, none of it mattered. She raced up the stairs that led to the palace proper, taking them three or even four at a time.

“Halt.”

She froze at once, recognizing the tone of one who was accustomed to being obeyed. She raised her head, her breath coming very fast and labored after the long run, and saw an imposing figure barring the path up the stairs. From the look of him, he had been on his way down to the docks and had simply been in her way. His kimono bore marks of rank, and his weapons were decorated with numerous battle accolades of the Yoritomo, but he was not of their blood. “I beg you, my lord,” she said breathlessly, “allow me to pass. I must see Lord Naizen at once.”

“That is somewhat presumptuous, is it not?” the man asked. “Lord Naizen is quite busy.”

“He will wish to see this, my lord,” she said, holding up a scroll.

The man frowned, and held out his hand. “I am Moshi Kalani, first mate of Yoritomo Naizen’s personal vessel. I wish to see the scroll.”

She handed it over at once and he inspected the seal. “This is from Yoyonagi-sama?”

“Hai,” she answered. “There have been significant developments in the Imperial City. Naizen-sama’s attention is needed at once.”

Kalani frowned. “Who are you?”

She bowed sharply. “Moshi Taya,” she answered. “I was present in the Imperial City at the time of… of the incident.”

Kalani nodded. He tucked the scroll in his obi and turned to head back into the palace. “Follow me,” he commanded. “The Champion may have questions that only you can answer.”

Wordlessly, Taya followed.

 

           

The waters of Ningen-do caused a strange sensation that at first Thunder did not recognize. It was curious, something the dragon had never truly experienced before, and it spent some time considering the matter as it glided effortlessly through the seas. Finally, after some reflection upon past conversations with the many mortal vassals that had served it over the years, Thunder decided that the water was cold.

That a being such as itself could experience cold was a strange notion, and one that had ramifications that it did not fully comprehend yet. It was a powerful entity, certainly, perhaps more so than any other living thing within the mortal realm. It was immortal as well, immune to the ravages of age, poison, disease, and the rest. But now, with the cold seeping into its scales, its bones, its very soul, Thunder was forced to acknowledge the possibility that now, with its fullness of its divinity granted to another, banished from the Celestial Heavens to the mortal realm, possibly for eternity, that it might have no choice but to consider the possibility of physical danger. The Heavens would no longer protect its wayward child. The divine had no place in the mortal realm. It had been decreed. Even the sons and daughters of the Sun and Moon were not immune, much less the elemental dragons. It was powerful, yes, but it could die, and if it did, Thunder had no notion of what might happen to it after that.

The very idea was absurd beyond anything that Thunder had ever considered. An elemental dragon, in danger? A divine creature of the universe, worried for its life? For its soul? Preposterous! And yet, had such a thing not happened once before? Had Air, as true and loyal a colleague as Thunder had ever known, not been torn apart and remade as the detestable Shadow Dragon? Such a thing could never happen again, of course, for the Lying Darkness that had committed the act was no more, and Air had of course been replaced with a new incarnation in the Celestial Heavens, but the act had been committed once, and could conceivably again.

The thought of the Shadow Dragon caused Thunder to growl almost involuntarily. What a wretched abomination it was! Perhaps now Thunder was in a position to take direct action against the monstrous blasphemy. Or, if not, then at least it could act through intermediaries. Caution was called for however, for vulnerability was a burden the dragon was not accustomed to bearing.

Fortunately, there were those it could call upon for aid, now more so than ever.

 

           

The weathered features of Yoritomo Naizen twisted into a frown, perhaps even a scowl, as he surveyed the contents of the scroll the messenger had delivered to the islands. “You say these two simply… appeared? In the Imperial Court, and no one thought to question their motives? I find that laughable.”

“I know it must sound ridiculous, my lord,” Taya reported in a wavering voice. “Even I imagine that it must have been so, and I was present. And yet, there was something about them both… something undeniable. No one who looked upon them could question them, my lord. It was unthinkable.”

Naizen glanced at his advisors. Kalani was inscrutable as ever, and Moshi Eihime bore what could best be described as a bemused expression. “Bah,” Naizen finally said. “You are young, and youth can easily be made a fool of. But Sachina and Yoyonagi were present, it seems, and I will not so easily discount their testimony.”

“Of course, my lord,” she said, her head bowed.

“What do we make of this, then?” Naizen said. “A tournament? Sponsored by the Heavens themselves? I can scarcely imagine such a thing is real.”

“It would be in our best interest to assume that it is,” Kalani said. “The other clans will surely do so. If we are mistaken, we lose nothing. If we decline, however, and the opportunity proves genuine, then we have lost immeasurably.”

“I would agree,” Eihime added. “Whom would we send for such a thing, however? Our most ‘virtuous’ individuals are not necessarily our most capable.” She glanced at Kalani. “Present company excluded, of course.”

“I will attend, of course,” Naizen said.

“As you should, my lord,” Eihime agreed, “but you should not take part.”

The Scourge of Storms raised an eyebrow. “Eh?”

“We must assume that the clans will spare nothing to win,” she clarified. “If by some chance you were to compete and be defeated, Naizen-sama, an event that surely could only come about as a result of the most base and vile treachery, then your name would be sullied before an entire Empire regardless of the final outcome.”

“Your name should remain free of such taint,” Kalani agreed. “You are a man feared throughout the Empire. It is an advantage that should not be easily discarded, or even placed at risk?”

“Avoid risk?” Naizen spat. “When did we become the Crane?”

Kalani bowed deeply. “The decision is yours and yours alone, my Champion. I have but offered my counsel as you once instructed me to do in all things.”

“Yes, and you have an annoying habit of being right,” Naizen said with a snarl. “I might have liked it better back when I mistakenly believed you were mute.”

My champion.

“Gah,” Naizen said suddenly, grabbing his head and staggering to one knee in the middle of the room. “Uhh…”

“My lord?” Kalani stepped forward in alarm. Both Eihime and Taya had also grabbed their heads, but they did not seem to be suffering as badly as Naizen. “My lord, what ails you?”

My champion. I have need of you.

“Argh,” Naizen hissed. “Of… of course. Just… a moment.” The Mantis Clan Champion staggered out of the room into an adjoining chamber, followed closely by both Kalani and Eihime, the latter of whom had reached out to the former for support. Naizen passed the rack where his weapons rested and instead clutched at his armor, seizing the mis-matched helm from its top and placing it roughly on his head. “Yes,” he said, his voice uneven. “What is it you require, my patron?”

“I can’t hear it now,” Eihime whispered. “The helmet seems to… to baffle it somehow.”

“What are you talking about?” Kalani said, his voice tight to keep from shouting. “What is happening?

Eihime pointed to their Champion, who stood rapt in his helmet, not moving. “The Helm of Thunder,” she said. “The Thunder Dragon has called for him.”

“What?” Kalani said, peering carefully at the helmet. “What does that mean?”

“Kalani!” Naizen roared, ripping the helmet off. “Give the order to ready the ship immediately!”

“At once, my lord!” Kalani said. “What is our destination?”

“Not ours,” Naizen corrected. “Eihime will accompany me. You remain here and prepare a list of competitors for this tournament. You will oversee it personally.”

“As you command,” Kalani said, clearly concerned. “My lord, how shall I order the crew?” The destination would determine the length of the sails and the preparations to be made.

“The open sea,” Naizen said. “We go to speak to the great Thunder Dragon. In person.”

 

           

The Scorpion

 

The plain was empty, with long grass that waved gently in the autumn breeze. There were no remarkable features of any sort save for a rocky clearing. Two lone samurai stood amid the grasses, surveying the area for some time. They did not speak, as if perhaps listening to the breeze. The shorter of the two twisted his head every few minutes, as if sniffing the air. “Yes,” he finally said. “This will do.”

“What happened here?” the other asked.

“Treachery,” the little man said. “A great temple stood here once. It was destroyed by a wrathful Lion warlord during the period our clan was exiled across the Burning Sands. It was burned, and what remained was dismantled one stone at a time. Each stone was ground to dust and scattered to the four winds.”

“Bah,” the other said. “The Lion have such a penchant for melodrama.”

“Degradation is a powerful weapon,” the little man disagreed. “Unfortunately for the warlord in question, the Scorpion were too consumed with rebuilding to ever take offense at his actions. He died longing for us to attempt to take vengeance against him, and give him the excuse he desired to launch a righteous war against us.”

“Pathetic,” the man said. “Tell me, Ukon, what divinations can you read here?”

Soshi Ukon looked up at the other man curiously. “Are you actually interested, Toson-sama?”

“Of course not. But the new lady of the Soshi places great stock in such things, apparently, and I wish to proceed with the project as soon as possible. So, what do your little trinkets tell you?”

Ukon scowled, his normally twisted features made almost inhuman by the gestures, but he cast a handful of small carved tiles into a bowl and looked at the results. “The kawaru ensures a fruitful endeavor,” he finally said. “All is in readiness.”

“Excellent,” Shosuro Toson said. “I will notify Paneki-sama personally.”

 

           

Kyuden Bayushi always maintained an air of quiet activity. Individuals moved through the palace with purpose, their every move and gesture full of assurance. It was thus at all times, regardless of whether or not they actually had business at hand. No one who ever visited the palace, either a scheduled guest or a surprise arrival, ever walked away without the impression that the Scorpion Clan’s schemes were countless and myriad.

Today, of course, there were actually important matters at hand, Toson reflected. One month ago, Bayushi Paneki had instructed his attendants to make the castle ready for winter court. And not just any winter court either, but the Emperor’s Winter Court. As of yet there was no Emperor, and Toson had no confidence that any means of selecting one would be found at any time in the near future. Privately he doubted that there would ever be another Emperor. Samurai craved service, that much was true enough, but as far as he was considered, service to his clan and Champion was sufficient. Toson did not require an Emperor to serve. The lack of one, in fact, made the sort of activities he performed, or ordered performed, on behalf of his clan that much easier, in fact.

The chamber in which Paneki met with his closest advisors was in a region of the palace closed to visitors, and indeed to most Scorpion in attendance. Only a few were permitted to pass the guards and enter. Toson suspected there were other such rooms, perhaps even more restrictive in who was permitted to enter. He was not so arrogant or foolish as to assume that his status as daimyo of the Shosuro family was enough to allow him access to all the secrets of the man the Empire often called the Master of Secrets. Toson adored secrets. He loved to possess them, and to ferret them out in others. They fulfilled him in some manner, but he suspected that the burden his lord carried would have soured him on them altogether, and that simply wouldn’t do.

Toson stopped in his tracks.

The door to the chamber was open. There were no guards. That had never happened in the many times that Toson had been coming here. He placed his hand on the hilt of his blade and instantly shifted into his duty stance. Under normal circumstances, Toson was silent, almost hidden as he moved through the corridors. Now, he was like a wraith that slid along the wall and crossed the threshold without even the faintest rustle of cloth.

Despite his silence, Bayushi Miyako looked up the moment that Toson crossed the through the doorway. “Your creature is here, husband,” she said, almost hiding the disgust from her voice.

Toson smiled and sheathed his blade. He bowed very deeply. “Forgive me, my lady. It was not my intent to disturb you.”

Miyako forced a smile. Despite her absolute loyalty to the Scorpion Clan since her wedding to Bayushi Paneki, she was still the former commander of the First Imperial Legion, and a man like Toson disgusted her utterly. Not that he could blame her, of course. “I presume you were summoned?”

“No,” Bayushi Paneki answered his wife’s question. He glanced up from the scrolls he was reading. “I assume that your presence indicates something of importance, Toson?”

“Yes, my lord,” he bowed. “I have news regarding the temple reconstruction project we discussed.”

“Ah, yes,” Paneki said. “Unfortunately you will have to wait. Something of greater importance has arisen.”

Toson raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Of course, my lord,” he said, and began to withdraw.

“Remain,” Paneki ordered. “You may have an opinion on this matter that could be of use.”

“Of course.” Toson glanced back over his shoulder. “Forgive me, my lord, but your guards?”

As if summoned, two bushi arrived, each carrying an armload of scrolls. “The records you requested, my lord,” one murmured reverently.

Paneki nodded. “Very good. This will do for the moment. Resume your post. No one is to be admitted.”

“Hai,” the senior of the two said, and the two men exited, closing the door behind them.

Toson frowned, but waited patiently without asking questions. Paneki glanced up at him after a few moments. “Where did you come from?” he asked.

“I found a suitable location south of the mountains,” he answered. “A day’s travel from Shamate Pass, more or less.”

“You would have encountered no one who could have passed on word,” Paneki said. “There has been… a development.”

“I see,” Toson said. “Is it a matter that you require me to handle?”

The enormously pregnant Miyako managed a scathing glare, but Paneki waved the comment away. “Nothing of the sort. Tell me, Toson, are there any men in your service that you would consider… virtuous?”

“My lord?” Toson said.

 

           

“Enough about this tournament,” Paneki said after a time. “Tell me what you have learned regarding the matter of the temple.”

Toson bowed his head respectfully. “Along with a representative of the Soshi, I have located a site where a Scorpion temple once stood before it was razed to the ground by the Lion during our absence from the Empire. It turns out that the temple was made famous in our absence by the incident. A rather provocative play was written by a Crane playwright condemning the Lion for their role in its destruction, and the alleged deaths of several monks who refused to abandon their duties despite the Lion’s destructive intent.”

“Rebuilding it will likely cause friction between the Lion and Crane, then,” Paneki observed. “How fortuitous. How soon can construction begin?”

“As soon as your order is given, my lord.”

The Master of Secrets nodded. “It is given. Have the scrolls we recovered moved there at once. Once the temple is completed and our… unique modifications in place, then we will announce their recovery.”

Miyako looked quizzical. “Scrolls, husband?”

Paneki smiled. “Forgive me, my dear. I have not yet had the chance to fully discuss the results of our endeavors in the north. When our agents destroyed the so-called ‘Hidden Temple,’ they recovered a large number of scrolls that were in storage. Our scholars believe that they were removed from Otosan Uchi during or shortly after it was besieged by Daigotsu. Many of them are unique and were believed destroyed.”

She nodded. “Announcing their recovery will bring greater attention to the temple. And many visitors as well, I imagine.”

Toson frowned. “Forgive me my lord, but I must ask… why would we wish to ensure visitors? Particularly when we are concealing such sensitive materials beneath the temple?”

“To ensure vigilance,” Miyako answered. “A constant threat means constant attention to detail, constant diligence in the execution of duty.”

“Precisely,” Paneki said. “The perfect means by which to protect this Oni’s Eye that we find ourselves in possession of.”

Toson shuddered at the mention of the thing, and he thought he saw Miyako mouth an invocation to the Fortunes. “Have you chosen whom you wish to oversee its study, my lord?”

“Study is an inappropriate word,” Paneki said. “I wish it to be scrutinized, observed. It is not to be used, never to be used, without my direct authorization. I want that understood by all who serve there, Toson. If they partake of its abilities without my order, you will oversee their deaths without hesitation.”

“Of course, my lord.”

“There has been enough corruption among our ranks,” Paneki said grimly. “I will tolerate no more during my lifetime.”

“It would be my great pleasure to assist you in achieving such a goal,” Toson said, bowing deeply. “Would you like me to have Soshi Korenaga eliminated?”

Paneki seemed to consider the idea. Korenaga was a shugenja, by all accounts completely loyal to the clan, who had become corrupted when he had opened a Black Scroll that the Scorpion had retrieved from the Tomb of the Seven Thunders prior to its destruction. Korenaga had been assigned to study the scroll and learn its secrets, but Paneki had been enraged that it had been opened. Korenaga had been permitted to live, but his corruption had warranted constant, around-the-clock monitoring by the Yogo family. Toson had petitioned for his death on more than one occasion. “No,” Paneki finally said. “I have considered it, but no. I believe he may yet have worth. I want him stationed at the temple.”

There was a moment of complete silence. “Are you absolutely certain that is wise, husband?” Miyako asked quietly. For once, Toson was extremely grateful for her presence, because he could not ask the question himself.

“He is not to touch the Eye itself,” Paneki ordered. “He is to study every bit of information we possess, and on those occasions when I command it to be used, he is to observe. Perhaps his altered state will grant him insight that others will not possess.” He glanced at Toson. “I want you to oversee this project in its entirety. You ensure the safe transport of the materials recovered from the Hidden Temple. Work with Soshi Yukimi to select the personnel who will study the scrolls and the Eye itself. No one is to set foot within the temple without your personal approval. And if there are any failures of loyalty, you will ensure that the damage is completely contained. Do you understand?”

“It is my great honor, my lord,” Toson said.

“You have never failed me, Toson,” Paneki added as he turned back to the scrolls. “Succeed in this and you will be rewarded with my full confidence. Few men have ever possessed it. Your predecessor was one such man. Perhaps you can exceed even his accomplishments one day.”

Toson could not resist a slight smile. “I will not fail you, my lord.”