"I'm sure that Hantei the 38th, may he dwell forever with the Sun Goddess, would appreciate that you still play the game," Kachiko said. She smiled, and the green flecks within her eyes sparkled.
"Not so skillfully as you, I fear," Kaede said. She reached out with her mind but sensed not even a trace of Kachiko's thoughts. Inwardly, Kaede's frustration welled.
Kachiko laughed and started to move on another area of the board. "How are your brothers?" she asked.
Kaede repressed a chill. "They were well—the last time I saw them," she said. She placed a black piece on an intersection next to one of Kachiko's, trying to begin a circling maneuver.
"Was that when you went home to Kyuden Isawa?" Kachiko asked. "I had reports that all the Elemental Masters had gathered."
"As is our custom," Kaede said.
"I thought such a meeting unusual at this time of year," Kachiko said. She began a counterattack against Kaede's circling maneuver.
"Routine business," Kaede replied. "Affairs of the clan."
"Sometimes," Kachiko said, "the affairs of clan—or even the empire—must take a back seat to personal considerations. Don't you think that's so?"
"Never in my experience, Kachiko-sama, though your experience may be different from mine."
Kachiko smiled. "Was your father there?"
"If he was, I never saw him," Kaede answered, smiling back.
"Surely you must miss him," Kachiko said. "To lose someone so close is a great burden."
"He is not lost," Kaede said, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck rise. "He merely answers a different call than most."
"You think the Phoenix can count on his aid then, if such were ever needed?"
"I'm sure of it," Kaede said. "The ties of blood run deep."
"Yes," Kachiko said, "they do." In the Mother of Scorpion's eyes floated the ghost of Dairu, her dead son.
Kaede captured three pieces on the board and said, "Would that those ties ran so deep in Yogo Junzo."
Kachiko stopped in midmove, for only a second. She placed her piece down, but placed it badly. Kaede spotted the error.
"Though the name of Scorpion is banned, Junzo is a disgrace to it, nonetheless," Kachiko said.
Kaede nodded, keeping her eyes carefully on the empress. "Hai. You must be as ashamed of his actions as the Crane are of Hoturi's."
"More ashamed, I think," Kachiko said quickly. "Junzo never before set his personal ambitions above those of his clan."
"And you think Hoturi did?"
Kachiko's black eyes flashed. "I know it," she said, and then added, "all the court knows it."
"Is it true Hoturi's wife left him?" Kaede asked.
"I haven't inquired," Kachiko said. "It seems such a small point considering the state of things."
Kaede nodded. "Hai. Sometimes such small elements form a larger picture, though." She saw a weakness in Kachiko's defense on the board and wondered whether to exploit it.
"Of course," Kachiko said. "But sometimes, small elements are just that, and nothing more."
"When he was researching at our library, I once heard Junzo remark that 'One small stone can start a landslide.' I wonder if he's cast such stones in our midst."
"If he has, he's likely to be buried by a rockslide of his own creation," Kachiko said.
"Only if the rest of us discover his weaknesses and act against him," Kaede said.
"Junzo's weakness is his ego—his overwhelming pride in his own abilities," Kachiko said. "That hubris will destroy him eventually, even if the other clans slaughter each other and he rides across the mountains unopposed." A cold fire descended on the Mother of Scorpion's eyes. She smiled as if with some inward satisfaction.
"I pray to the Fortunes you are right, Kachiko-sama," Kaede said. "I pray Junzo never leaves the dark lands. Though I pray, as well, that the other clans will cease their senseless bloodshed."
"Spoken like a Phoenix," Kachiko said, smiling. She placed another white stone on the board, still apparently oblivious to the weakness in her defense.
Kaede considered a moment. She let the Void fill her. Still, she sensed nothing where the empress sat. Could Kachiko be so soulless? "I pass," Kaede said.
Kachiko, distracted for a moment, looked back at her opponent, surprised. "Oh," she said. "I pass as well. Our game is over, it seems."
"By my count, you have won, Empress," Kaede said. She bowed, nearly touching her head to the grass.
"Domo arigato, Kaede-san," Kachiko said. " A good game. Perhaps we can play again tomorrow."
"Perhaps," Kaede said. "If you wish."
Kachiko nodded. "You may go," she said. She produced a fan from the sleeve of her robe and waved it. Kaede noticed that the fan featured a subtle Scorpion design.
The Mistress of the Void rose and walked toward the palace. She stretched out with her senses as she went and perceived a shadowy figure moving through the trees to Kachiko s left. She didn't have to glance back to know that it was Aramoro, Kachiko's Scorpion brother-in-law.
Kaede set course for the baths. Somehow her meetings with Kachiko always left her feeling unclean. A noise caught her attention as she walked. Hammers. The endless echoing of hammers filled the great halls and spilled out into the afternoon air.
No matter how many hours the laborers worked, the damage done to the castle seemed irreparable. And was it Kaede's imagination, or did the plaster walls seem less white than they had just the day before?
As she entered the bathhouse, Kaede wondered if the empire, like the castle, was crumbling from within.
xxxxxxxx
Hours later, after her bath and following a poetry reading by Kakita Yoshi, Kaede crested the final short stairway and emerged atop one of the palace's open-air towers.
Ishikawa went with her. There, the two of them found his brother, Kiaku, waiting for them. The autumn stars blazed brightly in the sky overhead. The night was calm. Not even a sea breeze brushed their hair. Far below, they still heard the echoes of hammers working late into the night.
The three of them sat cross-legged in a circle around the trapdoor. Kiaku produced a jar of sake and three cups. He poured some for each, raised his glass, and said, "To friends, well met."
Kaede and Ishikawa nodded to the toast, and the three of them drank. They gazed silently at the stars for a time, each contemplating a favorite constellation. For Kaede, it was the Phoenix—though some part deep inside her tugged her eyes to the Lion as well. She wondered at the fate of her former fiance, the ronin Toturi.
Turning to Kiaku, she said, "Kiaku, you've been traveling lately. Do you have any news of Toturi?"
Kiaku glanced nervously at his brother, who gazed uncomfortably back.
"I know," Kaede said, "that we're not to speak his name within the palace—or anywhere else. Something inside me, though, compels me to ask. Is there news? Has he been hurt?"
"No, not hurt, Kaede-san," Kiaku said. "Not so far as I know, anyway. He fights valiantly against the forces of the Evil One, though he is vastly outnumbered. If only some great clan would give him aid. ..." He stopped, remembering Kaede's position. "I'm sorry, my lady. I spoke out of turn." He took another drink.
"Toturi's ronin status has cost him dearly, Kaede-san," Ishikawa said. His warm breath gathered above his head in a small white cloud. "Hoturi's dark army presses his former Crane kinsman to the brink of extinction. It's all the Black Lion can do to hold Junzo's forces in check. Toturi's former clan won't help him. And who can blame them?"
"The Lion are pawns of the emperor," Kiaku said impatiently, "and the emperor is the pawn of ..." He stopped and his eyes wandered to the castle below.
"Yes, I know," Kaede said. "I can't believe that even Kachiko, tor all the hatred in her heart, would let the empire fall to Junzo, though."
"Who knows what's truly in a Scorpion's heart?" said Ishikawa.
Kiaku shook his head and took another drink. He exhaled and watched the cloud of breath drift into the heavens. "Who knows? Not I—even t
hough I serve her celestial husband. The only heart I comprehend is Toturi's."
"What do you mean, Kiaku?" Kaede asked.
"Just that his is a cause I can understand. The Crab have fought the darkness so long that the two are almost indistinguishable. The Crane have turned on themselves like rabid wolves. The Lion tight for honor—but have forgotten whose honor they fight for. The Dragon sit in their stronghold, invulnerable and oblivious. The Unicorn stop to pick up every stray cur they see. The Mantis are ronin sell-swords, who could trust them? And the Phoenix ..." Here Kiaku remembered himself again, and stopped.
"What about the Phoenix?" Kaede prodded.
Kiaku looked from Kaede to his brother and back again. He folded his arms across his chest. "I'd rather not say."
Kaede turned her gaze to her friend. "Ishikawa . . . ?" she asked. Her breath ringed her head like a pale halo.
Ishikawa squirmed where he sat. Then, screwing up his courage, he said, "Kiaku feels as I do—the Phoenix are far too isolated, my lady. If your clan would intervene ..."
"We have sent our army to fight against Hoturi," Kaede said.
"Only a small part of your army," Kiaku said anxiously. "Tsukune is a good leader, but she's young. And I've heard that she and Hoturi have a past together."
Kaede's cheeks reddened. She called up her inner calm and said. "They were friends growing up, that's true. We thought perhaps she could turn aside his wrath."
"Hoturi is a mad dog," Ishikawa said. "Only death will turn him aside now—his death, or that of his people." He took another drink.
"Ujimitsu is with our army, when his duties allow," Kaede said. Despite her discipline, pressure built within her chest.
"Kaede-san," Ishikawa said, "it is not enough. Your people must step in. You have the power. You should use it."
Kaede rose, feeling anger and sorrow both welling up inside. "You do not know the burden, the responsibilities of our power," she said. "We walk paths others cannot tread, do work others may never know! Who are you to judge us?"
Ishikawa stood, holding out his hands. "Kaede, I'm sorry," he said. "Forgive me."
They looked at each other, emotions burning on their faces. The blackness of night surrounded them. The stars blazed uncaringly in the sky. Kiaku sat quietly, wise enough not to intervene.
Finally, Kaede turned her eyes down and said, "I, too, am sorry."
Ishikawa stepped forward as if to embrace her, but stopped short. "It's this damn plague," he said, "this damn war. We're all standing on razors."
"Hai," Kaede said. Tears budded on the corners of her eyes; she willed them away. "We are all of us birds, trapped in cages of our own design," she said. She sat down once more. Ishikawa did the same.
The three of them sat silently for a time, sipping sake and watching the stars spin.
Finally, Kiaku said. "Toturi isn't caged."
"But he is ronin," said Ishikawa.
"If he is, perhaps all of us should be ronin," Kiaku replied. "My term of service is up. Nothing holds me here. I will leave the imperial household and join the Black Lion. Come with me— both of you. I know Toturi would find a place for us in his army."
Kaede shook her head. "I have duties, both to my clan and to the emperor," she said. "I cannot leave."
Ishikawa looked from his brother to Kaede and back again.
"I, too, have duties that keep me here," he said.
They sat silently and drank until the jar of sake was gone. Then they went quietly down into the castle and returned to their quarters. The cloud of their words lingered in the air atop the tower until an ocean breeze carried the ghost of the conversation away.
THE PATH OF EVIL
In the end, Ke-o-kecha sent three ratlings to guide the Master of Earth. Tadaka would have preferred fewer, but three was a sacred number to the nezumi, and so the Phoenix shugenja gracefully deferred to his host's superstition.
Mouse was one of the guides. Ke-o-kecha praised her knowledge of the lands and cleverness in avoiding the minions of the enemy. With her came Kra'no'krree—called Krree—a warrior nezumi with a battle-scarred muzzle and a strong sword arm. The third of their group was Chihu, a young, likable ratling who enjoyed the sound of his own voice. All were dressed for travel and had pouches of supplies hanging from their thin obi. Long tanto daggers hung at their belts next to the pouches, and each of the nezumi wore a few battered pieces of armor. Krree carried a small, round shield.
Tadaka scratched the stubble growing on his chin and adjusted his round hat on his head. He'd resecured the stone he took from
the brim, and the rocks rattled gently as he made ready to leave the ratling encampment. His wounds still burned slightly, but he chanted a sutra to banish thoughts of them from his mind.
His ratling guides milled about nervously as the village turned out to see the group off.
"Good good hunting, Tadaka-sama," Ke-o-kecha said. "May your fur shine even when you are old old and your tail hair falls out." He bowed to the Phoenix shugenja.
"May your whiskers always be subtle," Tadaka said, bowing in return.
The ratling chief turned from his guest to the guides. "Honor of our pack is yours," he said to them. "Guide Tadaka-sama as you would your brother."
Mouse, Krree, and Chihu bowed and raised their tails in reverence to their leader. They touched their whiskers to the ground three times.
Tadaka walked between the tall boulders and out of the bowl valley. The three nezumi followed. Their pack members cheered and thumped their tails in approval.
The land sank quickly as the four of them left the encampment. Soon they were surrounded by the gloom of the Shadow-lands. Mouse walked next to Tadaka, as she knew the way best.
"Mouse good at staying out of trouble," Chihu said, "but only after making trouble first." He laughed.
Mouse scowled at him. "If your tongue were sword, Chihu," she said, "you could slay Evil One from here."
Both Krree and Chihu laughed at her rejoinder, and even Tadaka cracked a smile.
"Is Junzo's lair far?" the Master of Earth asked.
"Three walks and two sleeps," Mouse said. "Last walk is short short. Maybe not past lunch."
"That four walks and three sleeps for rest of pack," Krree said. "Mouse walks quick."
"Walk fast because much practice fleeing," Chihu said. He smiled at her, showing his prominent front teeth. She growled and stuck out her tongue in reply.
"When I accidentally almost find dark place," Chihu added with a grin, "it take me five walks,"
"And the Howling Mire you spoke of?" Tadaka asked.
"Reach Unaru Numa after lunch after first sleep," Krree said. " Kra'no'krree has hunted many times along swamp edge."
"But not dare go further, Chihu guess," said Chihu.
"Chihu talk brave, but always hide when trouble comes," Mouse said. Chihu stuck out his tongue at her. She laughed.
The land they walked through was irregular, pitted with gullies and craters, and dotted with standing boulders. Some of the rocks reminded Tadaka of sacrificial stones. Dark stains that might have been blood ran down the sides of the rocks.
Less and less now he saw the kind of wholesome stone he'd found in the ratlings' village. These new rocks were black and shot through with iridescent yellow-green veins—the taint of the Shadowlands. I adaka felt the pure earth slipping ever deeper beneath his feet. Soon it would be consumed entirely by the evil influence of this place. When that happened, Tadaka's powers would be lessened. The Master of Earth had come prepared to fight on his own.
The nezumi chattered as they walked, nipping at each other. Tadaka realized all three were scared, even the hunter Krree. Squabbling was a way to keep up their courage. The Master of Earth said nothing to them about it. The nezumi would know when to fall silent.
They saw no game as they traveled, and only a few small creatures—twisted animals infected with taint. The ratlings threw stones to scare the creatures off. After a time, Mouse and the others grew less bois
terous in their chatter.
Before sleep on the first day, they came to a waterfall that ran backward. The noise of its deluge was like a great hissing snake. Its black waters emanated from a wide, bubbling pool. They cascaded upward from the tainted earth into the gray sky. The waterfall's top remained hidden in the mists. Its dark liquid stank of decay and corruption.
Krree and Mouse avoided the water, but Chihu ventured to the edge of the pool. He tossed a charred stick into the liquid. It was sucked into the torrent and sailed up into the air. He wanted to experiment further, but Tadaka insisted they move on.
Always, the Shadowlands fog glowed around them. They had no day or night to judge by, so they walked until they were tired.
They traveled a good distance from the cursed waterfall before making camp to sleep.
The ratlings set guards, but Tadaka merely crossed his legs and slipped into meditation. He left enough of his consciousness behind that he could react quickly to any danger. Fortunately, the sleep time passed uneventfully.
After they woke, they crossed into a land of smooth, curving rocks—like a wide frozen river. The surface of the rocks was slippery, and the small band picked their way across it with care. At one point Tadaka rounded a corner and found himself staring up at the rest of his party. The ratlings blinked and rubbed their eyes when they spotted the Master of Earth rooted to the overhang above their heads. It took a while before he could convince the skittish nezumi to round the corner and join him.
The laws of nature do not apply in this cursed land, Tadaka thought to himself. There is no night or day, no up or down. The only distinction is between good and evil—and even that dims the farther we travel.
Eventually the sloping stones gave way to a dry, cracked plain dotted with diseased plants. Deformed insects poked their heads from the cracks in the earth, only to scuttle away.
Gradually a new sound came to Tadaka's ears, like the wailing of the wind, but the Master of Earth felt no breeze. The sound became clearer when they stopped to eat. The nezumi broke out their water jugs and some dried meat and vegetables. Tadaka stuck to his own provisions: water from jade vials, dry seaweed, some nuts and dried fruit.
L5r - scroll 04 - The Phoenix Page 13