L5r - scroll 03 - The Crane

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L5r - scroll 03 - The Crane Page 11

by Ree Soesbee


  Hoturi waved at his sensei. His pony continued down the sloping path. When last he saw this city, funeral pyres had surrounded it. He could still see the bodies of his friends placed into the flames. Hoturi remembered trying not to be afraid as his father died in the tents of the Crane, as the armies of the Doji, Daidoji, and Kakita looked to him for leadership. He remembered trying to be worthy of their trust....

  Trying not to be afraid for a woman that was not his to lose. Kachiko. She had been inside the city when the clans gathered for war. Hoturi remembered her smile, seeing the softness of her shoulder beneath her silk kimono. He had met her on a winter's day like this one, just before her engagement to the Scorpion Daimyo had been announced. She had been but fifteen years old and he only seventeen. That was nearly fifteen years ago. Since then, she had changed, growing cold and distant. For more than ten years, no word, no message of love or hate. Nothing at all except the emptiness of a love they had once shared.

  Slapping the reins against his steed's neck, Floturi rode toward the city's streets.

  xxxxxxxx

  Despite the evening's chill, the garden was full of blossoms. Gardeners tended the soft petals through the winter, encouraging the flowers to bloom despite the season. In preparation for an imperial announcement, they worked twice as hard, and the gardens put forth a last-second effort, overgrowing the path with exaggerated prosperity.

  Yoshi stepped through the hanging branches of the imperial walkway. Ah, the magic of the artisans. Even here, in the Imperial Palace, their efforts did not go unnoticed.

  Ahead of him stood the empress's guard. Her handmaidens were arrayed beneath silken hoods of gold and green. They circled like birds around the bench where another figure sat, as still as a garden statue. Around her, the flowers had closed with evening. Their petals whitely gleamed like early snow, but they still spread their fragrance upon the wind. Stone lamps glowed with soft fire.

  Three burly guards parted as Kakita Yoshi passed. They looked stoic, as if they were trying not to stare at the lithe man in the dark-blue kimono. Yoshi's white hair fluttered like a banner in the breeze. More than one of the handmaidens sighed softly beneath her concealing cloak.

  Kachiko had been true to her word: there were no other courtiers present—only the handmaidens, and his own attendants. This meeting was to take place between the empress and the foremost Crane courtier, and no others. No doubt, because of its very nature, it would be swift. Yoshi had known the empress would keep her word. All eyes in the palace followed her, and many belonged to his spies.

  The handmaidens bowed first, a bevy of wilting flowers followed by the smooth flutter of fans. Behind him, Yoshi could sense his attendants' response, perfect and effortlessly sincere.

  "Great Lady," he said, bowing gently. "I am honored by your audience. My prayers go to speed your husband to health, and may you both reign over the Emerald Empire for another thousand years." Of all the courtiers in the empire, only Yoshi could precisely manage the perfect blend of sincerity and politic that made such an elaborate greeting possible. Words, after all, were his specialty.

  She kept her hood above her face, her hands carefully tucked into the sleeves of her gold and purple kimono. Beneath the golden hood, the perfect silhouette of her mask curved lightly against the dark cowl of shadow. Her dark hair was pulled back. Only a few long wisps escaped to trail across the silk that covered her high breasts. She said nothing, only inclined her head gently in appreciation of his greeting.

  Yoshi quietly held out a hand, watching as the handmaidens peered toward him. At his side, one of his three attendants stepped forward, trying to glimpse the note he held.

  The Scorpion smiled, a gloved hand sliding from her kimono's thick sleeve to accept the plainly wrapped message. "I am pleased to tell you that his Excellency, Lord Doji-sama, will be attending the emperor's formal announcement." The words were too straightforward, but he had been advised to keep formality. "As always, the Crane are honored to have received the invitation."

  Kachiko smiled, slipping the acceptance note into her sleeve. Nodding, she stood. Her handmaidens clustered to her side. Even beneath the concealing cloak, her firm hip curved gracefully as she moved.

  One of the maidens stepped forward, bowing again as she began to speak. "My lady respectfully tenders her regrets that she is unable to continue your earlier conversation. Her grief over her husband's illness has robbed her of her ability to speak."

  Yoshi almost smiled. It was a clever ploy, one Bayushi Kachiko used infrequently. It saved her the dangers of conversation, reaffirmed her status as empress, and reminded of her husband's ailing health. A magnificent tactic but not enough to fend off a keen eye and sharp perception.

  Allowing Kachiko to step aside, her handmaiden bowed respectfully. Beneath the hood, the handmaiden's face peered. For a moment, Yoshi caught a glimpse of a delicate veil of silk. A Scorpion's mask. The few Scorpion allowed to freely wear their masks were those in the direct retinue of the empress. No simple handmaid, this, but one of Kachiko's most loyal retainers.

  The empress is frightened, he realized suddenly. Or she wishes me to believe she is. She has no fear of me—I am no bushi who could take her life. If she were to fear me, it would not be here that she showed her true face. What business does she have that her own assistants are not trusted enough to carry out? The Seppun sworn to her side would die for her, regardless of her past. It was not their business to question— only to serve to the death. Something more was at stake here, something even Kakita Yoshi's expert glance had nearly missed. The mask beneath the hood ... something about the way the empress held her hands in her sleeves . . . the slow movements of the handmaidens, as if screening their mistress—all became signals identifying the fox to the hunter.

  Watching the empress and her handmaidens retreat into the gardens, Yoshi noted something more—a figure standing in the shadow of a statue. Yoshi's eyes narrowed. He signaled his attendants to precede him into the Imperial Palace. From his sleeve, he withdrew a small mirror, just large enough to be covered by a curved palm. He walked toward the palace and glanced down into the mirror, catching sight of the empress and her maidens. The shadow detached itself from the stone as soon as the Crane were a safe distance away. The figure moved silently to the path and knelt before Bayushi Kachiko. Something gold glistened in the faint light of the stone lanterns. Then, the Crane were too far away to see clearly. Kachiko's three retainers moved to encircle the kneeling figure and the willowy empress.

  Yoshi put the mirror back into its secret pouch within his sleeve. Something was wrong—terribly wrong. Yoshi did not believe Kachiko's pretty lies. She was his oldest enemy in the court—and the only true challenge left to him since the Scorpion were destroyed. No matter whom she plotted against, a few well-placed whispers would shortly turn the matter to his advantage.

  Soon, he swore, resisting the urge to glance behind him, he would master her treacheries as well. When he did, the Imperial Court would belong, truly and without reservation, to him.

  "Thank you, my lady," he whispered to himself as his assistants opened the thick wooden doors into the palace, hearing the inner rice-paper screen slide aside. "You have given me a weapon against the Lion, and you don't even realize it." Yoshi allowed himself a single smile of victory, and then moved on.

  xxxxxxxx

  A few short hours after dawn, the court of Hantei the !9th gathered at the Imperial Palace, their robes and kimonos thickly bundled about them. The emperor had not directly addressed his court in several months, and the implication that he may be well enough to receive the courtiers of the six clans sent a ripple of excitement through the palace. The wide corridors were festooned with ivy and boughs of pine. Delicate flower arrangements artfully decorated every corner and alcove of the tremendous building.

  As Kakita Yoshi walked the halls, he could feel the age of the walls. The elegant architecture of a thousand years ago still stood proudly within the gleaming central city of the empire. F
or a thousand years, the line of the Hantei had ruled from this palace, giving the empire form and structure and guiding the clans.

  The new Hantei was no great emperor, though. He was too young, too impulsive, and too angry. His arrogance was not curbed by wisdom. Why else would the boy have chosen to wed the poisonous wife of his father's murderer? To end the Bayushi line? No. He had done so because the woman was beautiful. Hantei the 39th was useless, impressionable. The throne was in the hands of an idiot.

  Yoshi smiled. The emperor's ineptitude gave power to the Imperial Court, and thus to Yoshi. His command of the court hinged on favors given by the Crane Clan over the years, and a hundred lesser debts owed to Yoshi alone. With Hoturi as his banner, the way was easy.

  Hoturi had brought a fire to the clan, a balance between the aggression of the Daidoji and the politic of the Doji and Kakita. He also wisely left the Asahina, fourth family of the Crane, alone on their wide plain, discussing peace and med itating on the Tao. In every way, Hoturi had proven more a champion than his father. Tall, strong, courageous, and handsome, his image reflected everything Yoshi needed the

  Crane to be. Hoturi's strength of character did not matter— j only his charisma and the appearance of sincerity. It was a simple matter to gain loyalty from those who could see only with their eyes.

  Down the empty hallway came the sounds of a samurai practicing, the gentle chants that gave rhythm to the practice kata. Good. Hoturi and the old sensei were awake and preparing for the day. Yoshi's pale hand fluttered through his notes as he remembered all that he had seen in the garden. He had memorized all the faces, ensuring he knew what to say to everyone he would meet.

  Know your enemy—he thought, quoting the First Kakita ironically—even when your enemy has never touched a sword.

  This morning, the court whispered of a battle with the Lion to the south, in which Shiba Tsukune was said to have aided the Crane. Yoshi smiled. He already knew ten times more than the others did, firsthand from Hoturi. Yoshi knew even more than his champion. Though no one else had seen Kachiko for days, Yoshi had met with her last evening. The strings he had pulled to arrange the meeting had damaged his strength in the court for days. Still, the meeting had given him weapons against the Lion ambassadors. A small army of Lion destroyed in Crane lands by the Daidoji guard and a troop of traveling Phoenix—more than anything, it cemented the public opinion of an alliance between the Phoenix and the Crane. It was an alliance Yoshi was eager to ensure.

  Yoshi entered his chambers and waited until the Crane courtiers had gathered, including Hoturi and Toshimoko. After studying each in rapid appraisal, Yoshi led the Crane to the gardens. At his side, Doji Shizue and his other attendants walked silently. They had all been informed of their duties, but the tension of the court would shortly begin to fray their nerves. It was always so when the emperor spoke.

  Servants scampered through the hallways, and Toshimoko straightened his obi for the ten thousandth time.

  t loud Fortunes, Yoshi thought as he watched his brother walk. After nearly sixty years, the old Crane still hadn't mastered the ability to look casual. With Toshimoko, it was all or nothing—and court and courtiers, as far as he was con-c el ued, were nothing.

  I wo servants slid back the shoji doors into the imperial tourtyard. Courtiers raised their heads from conversation. I hey looking up from behind colorful fans and took in the beauty and glory of the Crane.

  Yoshi smiled gently, aware he was being studied, and looked up at his lord.

  1 loturi stood calmly. He appeared every inch the lord of the Crane, with a gleaming silver kimono over a silk tunic of darkest blue. The silver was just close enough to white that it reminded one of mourning, Yoshi noted. Well enough, that too could be used to their advantage—the lord mourned for the men lost under his command. He remembered those who had died fighting the Lion.

  A bell rang in the courtyard, announcing their arrival.

  Yoshi and his retinue bowed politely to the assemblage. Allowing Hoturi to step forward, Kakita Yoshi positioned himself at his lord's right elbow, completely prepared for the day's events.

  "We are honored to have the Crane Champion among us today." One of the Unicorn bowed. Instantly, Kakita Yoshi recognized the man as Ide Tadaji, foremost Unicorn courtier.

  "No, Lord Tadaji," Hoturi smiled and bowed as he recognized his Unicorn friend. "We are all honored to have been invited to the emperor's court. The day is pleasant, and surely, the emperor's health must be much improved, to see Amaterasu herself gracing the garden." Indeed, sunlight streamed around them, piercing the clouds effortlessly. The morning had deepened, and the budding flowers had begun to open in the early sunlight.

  "If the emperor grows healthy once more then surely the land will follow," the LTnicorn said hopefully. Though the Ide was simple to read, he was difficult to predict. "The plague that burdens the northern lands—I have heard that it has spread to your own, my lord."

  "Yes," Hoturi said carefully. He motioned for the Unicorn to walk with them, and seemed glad to see the gentle Ide once more. The two had been friends before the coup, when Hoturi spent much of his time in the Imperial Court. Time had lessened their companionship, but the two men still exchanged occasional letters. "Four villages have reported it, but it grows slowly. We have every reason to expect that our lands will be spared that particular pestilence."

  "We traded one plague for another." Toshimoko said rashly, and then blanched at his own words. "My pardon, my lord," he mumbled, picking a bit of lint from his twisted obi.

  The Unicorn seemed glad the ice had been broken. "My lord Hoturi-sama, if you have time while you are visiting your cousin, I should like to speak with you about the plague ... and other matters."

  Yoshi pulled a flower from a nearby bush, watching the dance of courtiers around them. Hoturi was handling the Uni corn's persistence well.

  "I will gladly meet you in the gardens while I am here. In a few days, perhaps?"

  "You are too kind, Lord Champion," Tadaji said, bowing again.

  Politely, Yoshi bowed to Tadaji, interrupting their conversation. "Tadaji, if you have the time, I also wish to speak with you about certain issues. The Unicorn are in need of rice, I hear, to feed the peasants in your southern provinces. With the battles among the minor clans, the Falcon will most likely not be able to return their usual tithe to your borders."

  Tadaji's face fell.

  Pity the Unicorn, Yoshi thought smugly. They cannot even tell you how they plan to feed their heimin from day to day.

  "The Falcon are at war?"

  "Oh, yes. Wasp brigands are attacking them, it is said. A village has already been lost near Kyuden Toritaka. Had you not heard?" Yoshi would have been surprised if Tadaji had said yes, considering the first battle had begun two days ago. I le raised his fan conspiratorially and led the Ide ambassador away from Hoturi and Toshimoko. "Some Lion say the Uni corn secretly attacked the Falcon in order to provide a false reason to invade Ikoma lands. Of course, that isn't true...."

  "Not at all!" Tadaji's features quirked.

  Noting Ikoma Ujiaki, the Lion courtier, marching angrily through the court, Yoshi stepped closer to Ide Tadaji. "See how angry the Lion are, simply because you and I are speaking? The Unicorn are unappreciated, your ways so badly misunderstood—"

  "Not here, Ryobu," Ujiaki said nearby, his hand touching another Lion's chest warningly.

  The young man blanched at his superior's touch, insulted by the public reprimand. His too-pale face reddened under a shock of dyed golden hair. "My brother is dead. His name was Hametsu. Matsu Hametsu."

  Stone-faced, Hoturi watched the confrontation. "Your brother died attacking the Crane." It was both a declaration and a response. Nearby courtiers raised their fans, pretending to ignore the simmering ferocity behind Hoturi's words. "He deserved to die, for breaking the emperor's edict against war.

  "The battle was fought at Haikeun village, rightfully a l ion holding. Half of Crane lands are rightfully the propert
y of the Lion. Your people have expanded into our territory for a hundred years, hiding behind words and edicts!"

  Yoshi remained beside the Unicorn, his lips moving softly behind the wide fan. Tadaji muttered something about Lion arrogance. The Kakita smiled. This test could not have come at a more perfect time.

  "I have no quarrel with you, Matsu," Hoturi stepped closer to the Lion, ignoring the ranking ambassador to stare 120 e> R.ee soesbee

  directly at the red-faced Matsu Ryobu. "But if your people believe they can march through peaceful lands and destroy our prosperity for the sake of your pride, I will turn your arrogance against you. Your brother is dead. Do you wish to see your entire house join him on the pyre?"

  Flinching, the Matsu reached instinctively for his blade, but the Ikoma's restraining hand became a shove. "Ryobu!" his master barked.

  Shaking with rage, the samurai lowered his hand, releasing the tsuba of his sword.

  Hoturi had not even moved. His shoulders were tensed, his legs spread, but his hands remained at his sides.

  "Ryobu-san, would you think to insult the emperor by bringing war into his very garden?" asked a woman's voice. It was soft, but its command was clear to all. As she spoke, the courtyard bell tolled belatedly, as if in apology. Even the heimin had not noticed her smooth entrance—designed to embarrass courtiers too engrossed in politics to pay attention to the Imperial House.

  The empress had arrived.

  With a swish of silk, the empress moved, her attendants spreading out around her like the spokes of an elegant fan.

  Immediately, the Lion fell to his knees. His face showed rage and humiliation. Heads bowed. Heimin lowered knees to the ground. Even the stammering Crab fell silent.

  The empress walked among them, ignoring them as befit her station. By law, her commands were no more than the requests of the emperor's wife—but in reality, they were far more. Every word she spoke carried the weight of an imperial command.

  Hoturi bowed slowly, allowed by station to keep his head above the rest of the court. For a second, the honey-colored eyes behind the lace mask flickered in his direction. A soft smile spread across her perfect features. "Rise, honored guests," the empress said, moving among them with a delicate motion of her hips. "And enjoy this rare day." She paused near Hoturi, eyes delicately lowered behind the mask that flattered rather than hid her features.

 

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