Virtue

 

by Brian Yoon

Edited by Fred Wan

 

Ryoko Owari, the City of Stories

 

Ryoko Owari was one of the largest cities in the Scorpion lands. It served as a hub for much of the trading that occurred in the territory. Merchants from the Crab lands moved their goods through the city to peddle their wares in the Scorpion lands and further north. Merchants constantly moved in and out of the large city, on the lookout for buyers and sellers. To Tsuruchi Etsui, it seemed every merchant had decided at the same time to enter the city. He had hoped the road to the Temple Quarter would be quiet and empty, yet he could barely move because of all the peasants and merchants using the route. The sun beat down on him mercilessly, and the rancid smell of the city and the droppings of countless horses threatened to overwhelm him.

It seemed like a lifetime had passed when Etsui finally reached the walls to the city. Several Scorpion samurai manned the gate, checking the papers of all the passersby. One of them approached the young Mantis. Unlike his peers, his face was mostly uncovered but for a small bandana covering his nose and mouth. He was young for his station, and Etsui briefly wondered how the boy had managed to obtain it. The guard bowed slightly and Etsui returned the gesture.

“Your papers, please,” the guard said politely.

Etsui passed over his travel papers without complaint. The Scorpion unfurled the scroll and began to examine it with a careful eye. Etsui knew exactly what the guard would see; the papers were endorsed by the Tsuruchi daimyo himself and approved by the governor of the city. The authority of the travel papers was beyond reproach.

The guard looked up at Etsui. “You come with excellent connections,” he said with a disinterested tone, but his eyes betrayed his surprise. “What is your purpose in the city?”

“Some rest, no more,” Etsui replied.

“Rest, here? You would be more successful elsewhere, I think. Ryoko Owari is not known for its tranquility.”

Etsui simply waited and looked at the guard. The Scorpion looked at the papers then glanced at the Mantis again. Flustered, he quickly closed the scroll and handed it back to Etsui. “You are approved to travel in any of the quarters in the city. Respect the guards and the firemen who enforce peace, and you’ll not run into trouble within these walls.”

“We shall see,” Etsui replied. He nodded solemnly to the man and walked through the gate.

 

           

The Temple Quarter was a curious sight. The only other time Etsui had ever stepped foot in the City of Lies was on business in the Merchant Quarter. He had stayed for a few days in a dingy inn in the middle of the quarter, listening to the city that seemed to never sleep. The Temple Quarter was only a few minutes walk from that building, yet it was like stepping into another city. The bustle and rowdiness that characterized the Merchant Quarter was gone, replaced by the sound of birds and the rustling of the trees in the wind. The merchants that lined the roads here were calmer, content with waiting for their customers over yelling out their wares at the top of their lungs. Monks and newcomers to the area were quiet, as if to acknowledge the sanctity of the area.

The main road through the Temple Quarter was wide enough to support several carriages side by side at once. Along the road, merchants had set up their wares and behind them, countless temples filled the city sector. Some of the buildings dedicated to the most important fortunes were huge. The Temple of Daikoku loomed over the rest of the buildings in the city, and the temples to the rest of the Seven Fortunes seemed to be as large as luxurious estates. The newly built Temple of the General faced the temples of the Seven Fortunes. It was slightly smaller than the temples to the Seven Fortunes but just as elaborate.

Etsui looked around and stood in awe of the sight. The guard outside had been wrong. One could easily find serenity here.

His revelries were interrupted by a loud laughter, discordant with the environment and his mood. Etsui turned behind him to face the disturbance with a slight frown on his face. A group of men walked through the middle of the road, without a care for anyone in their way. Monks and merchants quickly moved out of their way, and their confident swagger spoke much about their confidence. Etsui noted neither uniforms nor weapons beyond rudimentary wooden ones. A few of them had bells embroidered on their kimono.

Soon, they caught up to Etsui, laughing and joking with each other. Etsui watched them, motionless. The gang stopped, puzzled, and slowly began to realize that the young Mantis had no intention of budging from his path. The largest of them, a burly, ugly man with the bell on his kimono, stepped directly in front of them.

“You there!” he yelled. “Move out of the way!”

Etsui stared back at the man silently, but made no move. Grins began to creep up on the faces of the gang. They slowly spread out, making a half circle in front of him, and began to finger their weapons. They were little more than sticks, but in the numbers facing Etsui they were more than enough.

The leader spat on the road next to Etsui and chuckled. “Young Mantis-san, perhaps all your sailing has melted the sense out of you. We’re the Temple Road Firemen, see? We’re in charge of protecting this quarter from anyone who might threaten these temples. It would do to show some respect, Mantis-san.”

Etsui spoke softly, and the firemen quieted down to hear his words. “I give respect where respect is due.”

The leader’s face grew red. “Are you looking down on me because you’re a samurai? My duty here is prestigious! You raise your sword against me and I’ll show you your pride is misplaced!”

Etsui looked past the gang leader and slowly surveyed the people behind him. The rest of his gang had also lost their smiles. Unsettled by Etsui’s calm and confidence, the firemen were beginning to grow angry and nervous. Behind them, merchants watched with fascination at the growing conflict, and the others on the road averted their eyes. A beautiful Crane stood next to a vendor, her eyes fixed on Etsui. Her enigmatic smile hinted at her amusement, and she seemed uninterested in coming to his aid. He was on his own.

Etsui turned back to the leader and smiled at him. The fireman’s face grew redder.

“Mocking me?! You cause trouble, Mantis, and I’ll end it,” the leader snarled. He drew his tonfa and grabbed it tightly in his right hand. Etsui could see the others do the same from the corner of his eye.

“Let me explain the situation, fireman,” Etsui said. He raised his voice to reach everyone around him. “You are loud. You are disrespectful of the road. You disturb the peace of this place. I mean no harm to you, but I will not be pushed around by a neighborhood bully. I will not shed blood in this holy place. My blades are bound by peace knots and I have no intention of drawing it against the likes of you.”

Etsui did not move but he began to radiate a sense of pure danger. To those around him, Etsui looked like a tiger, ready to spring. It was completely irrational, but the firemen felt they were the ones outnumbered and surrounded.

“But of course,” Etsui said quietly, “I do not need them.”

The leader’s face grew pale, and he looked around at his men behind him. He quickly placed his weapon away. “Perhaps I was a bit hasty,” he said. “Be on your way, Mantis-sama.” The firemen quickly left, subdued by their encounter with Etsui.

Etsui looked back toward the vendors, but the Crane had disappeared.

 

           

Etsui stepped inside the altar room of Daikoku and looked around. Though the temple was the biggest in the area, no one was currently inside the expansive room. A figure of Daikoku, elaborate and no doubt very expensive, stood on a dais in the middle of the room. The giant statue was carved from a pink flawless stone, and Etsui had never seen its like before. He knelt in front of the statue, placed his swords by his side, and closed his eyes. Before he could clear his mind of his distractions, the sound of footsteps reached his ears. He remained still, forcing himself from tensing up. He opened his eyes and turned his head toward the entrance.

A woman in a powder blue kimono stood, framed by the light in the entrance. Etsui looked closer; it was the Crane he had seen on the street. She stepped into the room, still wearing the same enigmatic smirk. He bowed politely, a gesture she returned perfunctorily. She stopped next to Etsui and examined him. Now that she was closer, he took the chance to examine her closely. From this distance, Etsui could tell that she was an older woman. She had taken great pains to hide the fact with extensive makeup, and she was still one of the most beautiful women Etsui had ever seen. Her hair was jet black, eschewing the fashion chosen by many Crane.

“Greetings,” he said.

“Greetings, Etsui-san,” she replied.

Etsui’s eyes widened. “How do you know who I am?”

Her eyes twinkled in amusement. “It is my business to know such things, Etsui-san.”

Etsui nodded as recognition hit him. “I see. I am glad to meet you, Crane-san.”

She shifted, and her hair cascaded over her shoulder. “I was sent by Master Silk.”

“I think I remember you from my travels,” Etsui said slowly. “You visited the Imperial Palace during a fete hosted by Yoritomo Yashinko. You are Kakita Kyruko.”

Her lips thinned. “Yes, I am,” she said stiffly. “And I am here to watch your progress, Tsuruchi Etsui. You are on an important task. It would not do to dawdle.”

“I know my duty,” Etsui replied.

“Do you really?” she asked, raising a perfect eyebrow. “I wonder why you would draw attention to yourself by fighting the firemen in broad daylight.”

“They were disrespectful, and needed to be taught a lesson.”

“You caused a scene, and now people will remember you as the man who stood up to the firemen’s bullying,” Kyruko said. “That is not our way. It is best to not draw attention to your arrival here at all.”

“Perhaps you are right, Kyruko-san,” Etsui conceded.

Kyruko made a show of looking at her surroundings. “And what of this? I suppose it is fitting, given that you are a Coin.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why do you linger here in reverence to a Fortune? What thoughts plague your mind?”

“I am not a pious man,” Etsui said defensively. “I do not believe the Fortunes should dictate our fate.”

“Yet I find you groveling before this statue as if you expect a heavenly hand to come guide you to the right answer,” Kyruko spat.

“It is a simple ritual of peace, no more,” Etsui replied. “I find meditation calming, and this place is certainly fitting for the task.” He stood up.

“I do not blame you, Etsui-san. After all, you are a young man, and there are a few things that will always distract a man. A possible affront to his pride is one. And several other things…” Kyruko cocked her head to one side and smiled mischievously.

“But as I was saying, Kyruko-san,” Etsui said, “I appreciate your help, but it is not required here. I will do my duty and report my findings to my superiors.”

Kyruko’s eyes darkened with anger. “It was not a request, Etsui, and it is not negotiable. What you seek will go to the hands of the Silk. After all, that is our task. We gather the information pertinent to the Kolat. If you are not up to the challenge, I can finish the operation alone.”

Kyruko dropped her hands to her sides. A silent alarm rang in Etsui’s mind. She was ready to kill him, and she would kill him here and now, without a care for the location. There was only one response he could make.

 

           

They stepped into the temple together, Etsui leading a few footsteps before Kyruko. The Temple of the General was recently created, and everything still looked as if it had never been marred by human touch. Trees lined the walls of the temple, and beautiful steps of pure white stone led up to the shrine itself.

“This seems an odd place to hide one’s last words,” Kyruko said idly.

“Who are we to question the thoughts of the emperor?” Etsui said. “I have heard, though, that General Toku always held a special place in the emperor’s heart. Perhaps he planned it from the beginning, when he ordered the temple created.”

“Perhaps,” Kyruko replied.

The doors to the shrine opened, and a monk of the order stepped out. He was an old man who must have been a bushi in his prime. By his size, Etsui guessed the man had been a Crab. The monk spotted Etsui and made his way directly toward the Mantis. When he drew close, he turned to Kyruko.

“Your orders have been executed to the letter, my lady,” the monk said. He knelt at Kyruko’s feet. “Your privacy tonight is assured.”

“Good. Secure the gate.”

The monk nodded then shoved past Etsui. Kyruko waved her hand imperiously to Etsui. “Come. Lead me to the scrolls.”

Etsui nodded. She was certainly more than she claimed to be, but whatever she was, it was out of his league. He would simply do what he had to do, and leave the situation. They walked up the steps and entered the building. The monk had done his job well; Etsui could not see any evidence of others on the premises.

Etsui had never been inside the shrine before, but he knew his life depended on whether or not he could find the scrolls. He quickly scanned the room. A few scrolls lined the walls, detailing the general’s feats in Toturi’s Army and the years following the Second Day of Thunder. A large statue of the general as a young man dominated the middle of the room. There was nothing that looked to readily hide an emperor’s last words.

“So, where is it?” Kyruko said.

“I am not sure,” Etsui replied. “I only know that it is in this room, somewhere. The emperor was dying. We didn’t have much time.”

“Yes, yes. There are few places to hide in this room, so it cannot take long.” Kyruko said. She stood in the middle of the room and watched as Etsui searched wall to wall. Etsui looked behind scrolls, tapped the floor and the walls for signs of a hollow point with no avail. The statue was too large to be moved easily, and Etsui dismissed it as a logical hiding spot.

Finally, Etsui’s eyes fixed on a small stone tablet in front of the statue itself. Incense and other offerings covered the top of the slab. Etsui walked over and shifted the incense bowl away to the side. The character for virtue was engraved on the surface.

“Here,” Etsui said. “It must be under this.”

“Are you sure?” Kyruko asked dubiously.

“Yes. His last words pointed me towards virtue. This must be it.” Etsui grabbed the objects placed on top of the tablet and shoved them aside.

“Come in,” Kyruko called out loud. “We need your strength.”

The monk came in immediately at her summons. When he saw what Etsui was trying to do, he immediately came over to help move the stone slab. Together, they pushed the tablet away from the statue. When they finished, Etsui turned back to see if his guess had been correct. Kyruko was already there, her hands reaching into a small hole on the floor. She drew back a scroll case, embroidered with gold and marked with an imperial chrysanthemum. From the case, Kyruko withdrew a scroll. Her handling of it, Etsui was surprised to see, was almost reverent.

The scroll itself was magnificent. It was inscribed on black parchment, a rare and expensive material used almost exclusively for Imperial proclamations. The seal was intact and flawless; if it was a forgery, then it was the finest that Etsui had ever seen, and he was not inexperienced in the finer arts of forgery. In addition to the Imperial seal, the scroll also bore a much smaller symbol, the personal chop of Emperor Toturi III. The seal was intricate, and difficult to reproduce. Only the finest hand could duplicate such a seal, and only then when they had one to study. Perhaps a handful of men in the Empire could accomplish such a feat, and even then there were few who would even attempt it; to do so was treason, and the penalty was immediate execution.

For once, Etsui noted, Kyruko seemed to hold no words of contempt or arrogance, and her eyes shined with genuine pleasure. She unfurled the scroll and began to scan its contents. Etsui moved behind her and began to read over her shoulder. The calligraphy was beautiful yet pragmatic, as if its writer preferred legibility and function over style. He began to read and realized it was written by the emperor himself.

In the event of my untimely death with no natural heir, the scroll read in part, it is my will that the Shogun Kaneka take the throne as Toturi the Fourth.

 

           

“I do not understand,” Etsui said some time later. “When I was stationed in the Imperial City, the feud between the Emperor and his brother was common knowledge. I do not understand why the Emperor would have chosen a man that has always been his enemy as his successor.”

“For all his pragmatism, Naseru could not escape his family’s annoying tendency toward sentiment,” Kyruko said with a smirk. “He would of course choose a successor from his own family, and who better than Kaneka? Sezaru? I think not.”

Etsui frowned at her remarks, but did not address her tone. “Still,” he offered, “why not choose the Empress?”

“Because she was too recently a Lion,” Kyruko answered, “and the Lion have a history of making enemies out of allies. If she had five more years to shed the association with her former clan, perhaps. As it is, only Kaneka commands the respect necessary to assume the throne, and even that is suspect.” She shrugged. “He is the best of a poor lot.”

“He has refused the throne since his brother’s death,” Etsui observed.

“They say he swore never to take it,” Kyruko observed. “Perhaps he considers that oath binding even after death. And if that is true, then perhaps he has a depth of character most of us have not seen. Perhaps that is why Naseru chose him.” She shrugged again. “All I know is that Kaneka’s weak-willed lack of ambition makes him weak, even of his addled brother thought otherwise.”

“What will we do now?” Etsui asked.

“The Emperor’s last words must be used to better the Empire,” Kyruko said with that same arrogant smirk. “I have had my operatives prepare a forgery to replace this. There will need to be alterations, of course, in order to ensure that there are no questions regarding its authenticity. That can be done within the city, however. Two days, perhaps, certainly no more than three, and we can replace everything and await its ‘discovery’ in a few weeks.”

Etsui shook his head. “But those are the words of the Emperor himself. Do we dare…”

Kyruko cut him off with quiet, mocking laughter. “We have an opportunity here to shape the future of the Empire. You saw the scroll. The Emperor left specific information to be carried out upon his death. This information must be controlled and utilized to enforce our will upon the Empire. Trade agreements. Changes in the taxed rice from the different territories. All will be according to plan.”

“The will of the Emperor—”

“The Emperor is dead,” Kyruko interrupted sharply, “and the Kolat must continue. We know what is best for the Empire, Etsui-san. Have faith that we will only alter it to better the world.”

“And his chosen heir?” Etsui asked.

“I do not like Kaneka,” Kyruko said. “He killed my favorite uncle after all, but my feelings are irrelevant in this matter. Naseru chose him as his heir.” Kyruko pointed to the Kolat-made scroll. “Fortunately, we will still be following his wishes. We want Kaneka in power, and so he will be. Our version names the Shogun as heir as well. Now, have I smoothed away all of your worries?”

Etsui finally nodded and stepped back. Kyruko nodded at the monk. The silent monk placed the forgery in the hiding place, and together with Etsui replaced the tablet where it originally stood. The monk disappeared and left the samurai alone in the room. Etsui and Kyruko stared at each other.

“You have managed to impress me, Etsui-san,” Kyruko said slowly, “Perhaps I was too harsh when we first met. I could use a man like you to pass along information about the Coin Sect. Together we can form an alliance that will bring new strength to the Kolat. I could protect you, and offer you other boons as well. You will benefit as surely as I will.” Her smile took on a decidedly predatory nature. “What do you say, Etsui? Will you join me?

Etsui smiled weakly. There was little he could do other than to agree. If he did not, after all, he felt certain she would kill him. “Of course, lady Kyruko,” he said. He wondered idly if he would be able to betray her before she betrayed him.