L5r - scroll 04 - The Phoenix

by Stephen D. Sullivan

  "I would return home before this place destroys my soul," she said, feeling emotions well up. "I can hardly bear to be here any longer. The walls of the castle weigh me down, the air crushes my lungs. There is evil in here, Ishikawa, pure evil."

  Ishikawa nodded. "Hai, the empress."

  She shook her head. "No, beyond that. Something even Kachiko can't control. A sickness, like the plague that poisons the land—but not a physical sickness, a disease of the soul."

  "So, why don't you leave?"

  "I doubt the empress will let me," Kaede said. "She wearies of our cat-and-mouse games, but she doesn't want me to go."

  "She's like a serpent that torments a caged bird."

  "A bird. Yes." Kaede said, adjusting her feather-patterned kimono. "But I'm not sure if she's tormenting me, or trying—in her own way—to ask for help." "Help?" Ishikawa scoffed. "That woman? What kind of help could she need that her brother-in-law couldn't provide?"

  "Even revenge grows stale after a time, my friend," Kaede said. She reached across the gently smoldering fire pit and put her hand on his.

  Ishikawa started to reply, and then stopped. He closed his mouth and looked into the eyes of the Mistress of the Void.

  "I... " she began, and then faltered, her lips slighdy parted.

  He leaned over the fire pit and kissed her. Heat from the coals welled up between them. Sweat formed on their brows. Kaede twined her fingers around his. Ishikawa drank the sweetness of her lips.

  With a shudder, she pulled free. Their lips parted, and they both sat back on their tatami. She pointed her chin down and looked at the floor. He turned his head away from her.

  "I'm sorry," he said.

  "Don't be," she replied quietly. "I wanted to as well. It's just..."

  "Just what?" he asked.

  "I still have duties to perform," she said, pulling her kimono tight across her breast.

  "Is it your engagement to Toturi?" Ishikawa asked. "I thought the emperor called that off."

  "What the emperor commands and what the heart feels are two different things."

  Ishikawa leaned back; his face grew grim. "You still have feelings for the Black Lion, then."

  "Yes. No. I'm not certain," she said. "The whole world seems upside down—especially here, in the Forbidden City."

  "Hai," Ishikawa said, nodding grimly. "We should leave," he said. "Both of us. I'll find a way that even the empress can't foil."

  She noticed his cup was empty and refilled it. "I cannot go," she replied. "There's something else. Another reason."

  "What is it?"

  "The heir. You and I saved his life during the coup. I won't abandon him now. I can't, no matter how sick he is—not without trying to help him at least once more."

  "You tried before," he said, "but couldn't lift the plague." "I know," she said. "But all these long months I've studied the disease. I know more about it now. Perhaps I can burn the plague from his body. Perhaps I can succeed where I failed before."

  "And if you can't?"

  "Then you will need to get us both out of the casde, for I won't have the strength."

  Ishikawa nodded.

  "The trouble is getting to see Hantei," Kaede said. "Kachiko keeps him locked up tight. If I didn't know better, I'd think she feared him."

  "I doubt that," Ishikawa said. "He's still just a boy. And he may not be locked up as tightly as you think."

  "What do you mean?"

  Ishikawa rubbed his chin. "Recently, I've heard that the emperor wanders the palace late at night."

  "Where do you hear such stories?" Kaede asked.

  "From the guards. They're willing to tell me things that they'd never tell the Mother of Scorpions. They've seen Hantei prowling the back corridors of the palace, and they're worried. Something about him frightens them. It's as if he were a ghost. The few that have dared speak to him have been quite shaken."

  "And you believe these rumors?"

  Ishikawa nodded. "I do. Some of the men who have seen him are very reliable."

  "Does Kachiko suspect?"

  "No," he said, shaking his head. "If she did, she'd have someone's head on a pike."

  "How could the emperor get past Kachiko and her guards?" Kaede asked.

  "Scorpions can't be everywhere at once," Ishikawa said, "not even Kachiko and Aramoro."

  Kaede frowned. "So, what do you propose?"

  "The next time one of my men sees the emperor, I'll fetch you. We'll speak to him in the dead of night, far from Kachiko's influence."

  Kaede nodded. "All right. I'll await your call."

  xxxxxxxx

  Disquieting blackness swirled around Kaede. She found herself wandering the corridors of the palace, not sure of what she was looking for or even where she was. She wore a light kimono. Chill drafts raised goose bumps on her skin and made her shiver. White lanterns cast long shadows before her feet and down the length of the hall.

  A figure stepped from the shadows, barring her way. Kaede gasped; it was her father. He reached out and took her arm with his one good hand. Even in the dim light she saw that his fingers were gnarled and pockmarked. His grip was like iron.

  "You're hurting me," she said.

  Isawa Ujina looked at her, his eyes blazing beneath his hood. "The clan is in danger," he said."You are in danger."

  "Father, where have you been?" she asked. "It's been so long since we've seen you."

  "They won't listen to me," he said. "You must warn them."

  "Warn them of what?"

  "The darkness beyond the shadow," the Nameless One said. "They must fight it, not seek it out. Remember! Tell me you'll remember!" He shook her as he said it.

  "I'll remember, Father," she said. "But I don't understand. What do you mean?"

  "Remember, Kaede. Remember!" he said, still shaking her.

  The Mistress of the Void nodded, but the shaking didn't stop.

  "Kaede ..." Ujina cried plaintively.

  "Kaede!" echoed another voice.

  Kaede's eyes snapped open. She was lying on the futon in her room at the palace. A strong hand gripped her shoulder. A husky voice whispered in her ear. "Kaede!" The voice belonged to Ishikawa.

  Kaede sat up. "I was dreaming," she said. She ran her hands through her raven hair. Her sleeping kimono fell in revealing folds around her body.

  "Kaede, it's time," Ishikawa said. He let go of her shoulder and looked toward the door.

  "Time for what?" she asked sleepily.

  "I've found the emperor," Ishikawa said. "Get dressed. We must go quickly."

  The fog of sleep left Kaede's mind, and she nodded. Ishikawa stood guard while she fetched a heavier robe.

  They walked quickly through the halls, their bare feet making hardly a sound. Ishikawa used a series of secret passages to move through the palace. Finally, they reached a little-used corridor abutting the southern wall.

  Rounding a corner, they saw the wan form of Hantei the 39th. The boy emperor had propped open a small window and stood looking out across the bare gardens. He wore a pale silk kimono, decorated with designs of mountains and waterfalls.

  Ishikawa looked cautiously back down the corridor. "I'll stand guard—buy you time in case anyone comes. You go to the emperor. See what you can do."

  She nodded and said, "Be careful, Ishikawa." Reaching out, she squeezed his hand. His flesh felt warm and strong in the darkness.

  "You, too," he replied, letting her hand drop. He took up a position at the corner, out of sight of the emperor. Kaede turned and walked toward the boy.

  For a moment, Kaede wondered if she were still dreaming. Hantei stood still and silent. She couldn't even hear him breathing. She walked to within arm's reach before he turned to her. His brow was slick with sweat; his eyes were dark and liquid.

  "Kaede," he said languidly. "It is you, isn't it?"

  "Yes, Majesty," she said, bowing deeply. "It is I."

  "I couldn't be sure," he said, turning back to the window. "Everything seems like a dre
am sometimes."

  "Hai," Kaede replied. "I know what you mean. What are you looking at, Majesty?"

  "I'm trying to see my father," the boy said. "But I can't make him out through the snow."

  "Otennoo-sama," she said quietly, "your father is dead."

  "Is he?" Hantei replied. "I would swear that I hear him calling me. His voice is quiet, as if it comes from far away."

  "It's your fever speaking, Sire," Kaede said. "Perhaps I could lessen the fire."

  "Could you?" Hantei said, smiling. "I think I'd like that." He turned to her and held out his thin fingers.

  She reached out, embracing his pale hands in her dark-skinned ones. His skin was cold, clammy, his flesh soft—little more than skin over his bones.

  "Relax, Majesty. Open your mind to the healing."

  Hantei looked into her eyes. Kaede saw darkness behind his liquid orbs. She reached out with the power of the Void. Their eyes locked; their breath grew shallow; their hearts beat in time with each other.

  Kaede felt the pain of the emperor's heart in her own chest. His pulse was weak, irregular, fast. She let her power flow. Hantei's heartbeat slowed and became stronger. She moved on, feeling disease in every fiber of his being. It wrapped around his spine like a serpent, coiling and crushing. She thrust it back, clearing the paths of his nerves, sending the pain into infinity. She was winning this time! Winning!

  Disease surged through his blood. No, not plague, poison— some terrible venom brought on by the illness. She tried to fight it but could not. She needed Hantei's help, but he was too weak. She would have to strengthen him, give him hope.

  She melded their beings in the Void. She sought out his chi— the seat of his soul, the eternal heart of the samurai. Blackness sprang up around her like ink, but she pressed deeper, ever deeper.

  I will enlist his spirit in the battle, she thought. Together, we will banish this illness.

  She swam through the toxic sea of darkness, seeking the soul within. Finally, she saw a pinpoint of light, like a distant star. Urging her mind on, she flew toward it.

  Kaede raced forward. She could see its shape now—a man, strong and powerful; Hantei as he should be. The man had his back turned, looking away from the troubles that assailed him.

  She slowed as she drew near. Gently, she touched him on the shoulder. The glowing man turned. In his eyes, Kaede saw darkness, utter, complete darkness. A leering smile drew across his pleasant face, turning his countenance demonic.

  He reached toward her. She tried to pull back, but he caught her hands. His black eyes bored into her. Kaede's soul began to burn. She screamed and pulled back with all her might.

  The spell broke.

  Kaede opened her eyes and discovered the emperor's black orbs gazing at her. A slight smile broke across his waxen face. "Thank you," he said quietly. "Domo arigato, Kaede-chan."

  Kaede gasped, and her knees buckled. She fell to the floor, hitting her head against the hard wood. Dazed, she heard footsteps running toward her.

  "Kaede!" Ishikawa cried. "What happened? Are you all right? Where's the emperor?" He helped her sit.

  Kaede looked around. The boy emperor was nowhere to be seen. "I don't know. I don't know where he's gone."

  "Did you ... Did you cure him?" Ishikawa asked.

  Kaede shook her head, and her eyes moistened with tears. "I couldn't," she gasped. "I couldn't."

  "I'm sure you did your best," Ishikawa said. He put his strong arms around her shaking body.

  "It wasn't enough," she sobbed. "Not nearly enough. There's nothing more I can do. Get me out of here, Ishikawa. I need to go home. I need to see my brothers. Take me home to Kyuden Isawa."

  Ishikawa nodded and said, "I'll see to it."

  the way of the righteous

  For a moment, Tadaka didn't believe his eyes.

  The Kuni witch hunter looked like a pale ghost leaping down the defile. Her black hair streamed behind her. Her kimono billowed like a specter's robes. The demonic face of her mask leered at him. She aimed both tips of her double spear toward Tadaka's heart.

  "Wait!" he called. "It's me, Isawa Tadaka!" If the witch hunter heard, she didn't reply. Instead, she thrust at the Master of Earth's chest.

  Tadaka ducked aside. The points of her spear sliced the front of his tattered red kimono. She swung the spear sideways, like a staff, and caught him full in the chest.

  The air whooshed out of Tadaka's lungs, and he fell heavily against a tall rock. Pain shot up his back, and his skull glanced off the stone. For a moment, spots danced before his eyes. The witch hunter jabbed her spear at his

  chest again. Tadaka drew his katana only just in time to parry the thrust.

  "Have you gone mad?" he asked, spinning to his left. His left foot sank into the stream, and he nearly stumbled. The witch hunter spun her spear, aiming the butt end at his head. Tadaka ducked out of the way and retreated.

  The water at his ankles was cold, and the rocks underfoot were slippery. He splashed down the rivulet, trying to put some distance between himself and his foe.

  The witch hunter leapt down the stream after him. She used a rock on the right to jump to a taller one on the left. The Kuni vaulted high into the air, arcing over Tadaka's head. She landed lightly on her sandals behind him and slashed at his midsection.

  Tadaka wheeled. The cut missed him, but he stumbled back into the water. The witch hunter recovered and thrust at him again. Her aim was off, and the spear passed harmlessly between his right arm and his ribs.

  Tadaka seized a handful of gravel from the riverbed and flung it at her. Mud splattered her face and stones clattered off her jade mask. She shook her head, trying to clear her eyes, and flourished her spear in a defensive swirl.

  The Master of Earth staggered to his feet and grabbed the shaft of the weapon. He yanked hard, and the witch hunter lost her balance. She tumbled face first into the stream. Tadaka stepped past her as she wheeled, a jade knife suddenly in her hand.

  "Curse you!" Tadaka said. "Why are we fighting? We were friends last time we met!"

  The witch hunter didn't reply. Instead, she threw her tanto dagger at the Master of Earth.

  He batted it aside with his sword as the witch hunter rose to her feet. From within her robes she produced a jade globe, about the size of a chestnut. She threw it at his heart.

  Tadaka leapt back, slashing at the globe with his sword. Metal met jade, and the globe exploded into a ball of green flame. Tadaka fled backward as the ball expanded. Hot air singed his lungs. He prayed that he could keep his footing in the rough terrain.

  The witch hunter meant to kill him. Whether she was

  possessed, or undead, or crazy no longer mattered. He would have to use every means at his disposal to destroy her—or she would surely destroy him.

  The green fireball disbursed, leaving a clinging powder that stung Tadaka's eyes. The witch hunter advanced, swinging her double-pronged spear in an intricate kata.

  Tadaka retreated downstream. The boulders around them grew tall and started to show faint traces of Shadowlands taint. Tadaka tried to call out to the stone, but pain and exhaustion made his brain numb; the earth didn't listen. He knew he would have to buy time until he could bring his full prowess to bear.

  "Ob, blast it!" Tadaka called. "I could use some help here!" If the mujina heard, he didn't answer.

  "Call your demon friends," the Kuni witch hunter said, her voice as cold as ice. "I'll slay them as well." She paced steadily downstream after Tadaka, her forked spear ready.

  Tadaka kept retreating, biding his time, hoping to regain some of his lost strength. He placed his left hand against a boulder on the riverbank and felt a rumbling within. The sound of clattering rocks pricked his ears.

  The witch hunter heard it too and looked up. Stones rained down on them: first pebbles, then rocks, and then boulders.

  "Landslide!" Tadaka cried.

  "Your tricks won't save you!" the witch hunter screamed. She stepped back as the stones fell. A f
ist-sized rock caught her in the temple, shattering the upper portion of her mask. She grunted loudly as she fell back into the stream.

  "Hoo ha!" said Ob. "Was that a good trick, or what?" He appeared above the stream just in front of the fallen Kuni. "Pretty cool what a small rock in the right place can do, eh?"

  "Ob, look out!" Tadaka cried.

  The mujina vanished just as the witch hunter's spear cut the air where he had been hovering.

  "Cursed goblins!" the witch hunter said, rising to her feet. Her white robes were stained with mud and soaked with water. The kimono clung to her iron-sinewed limbs and skeletal body. She pulled another green globe from a hidden pocket in her sleeve.

  Tadaka turned and ran, putting as many large boulders between him and the Kuni as he could.

  Green fire roared down the defile after him, charring the rocks and filling the chasm with clinging green dust. Tadaka pulled his black hood up tight across his nose and kept running. Ahead, of him, the defile opened out into the flats at the edge of the Shadowlands.

  He emerged farther south than he had entered the hills, but the landscape before him looked just as forbidding—cracked earth, stunted plants, gray mist.

  The green fireball hadn't seriously hurt him. Additionally, it had kept the Kuni from following too closely.

  Reaching the end of the defile, Tadaka darted to the left, keeping close against the tall boulders. The tainted soil of the Shadowlands reached nearly to the hills, splashing up against the pure rock like an evil surf.

  He raised his sword in a defensive posture and said a sutra to clear his mind. Forms of incantations danced in his brain. He felt the power of the earth seeping back into his soul.

  The Kuni witch hunter sailed out of the defile, arcing high in the air like a pale, bony ghost. She landed solidly on her sandalled feet and turned to face her foe.

  Tadaka held his katana ready. "Why do you fight me?" he asked.

  "You will not pass," she said, cold venom in her voice.

  "My mission is vital!" he said. "You know it. You know who I am."

  "I know who you claim to be, but I also know what you are," she said. "You will not pass."

  Tadaka heard her inhaling in long gasps. At least, she is as mortal as I am. "I must return to my homeland."