Then came the food: sumptuous, impressive courses, each impeccably timed and perfectly prepared. Each was more wonderful than the last. The feast began with dried fruits and pure white rice, followed by cold turtle soup and hot noodles. Peacock eggs wrapped in seaweed came next.
Sake servers made sure that every celebrant's cup remained brimming with warm rice wine.
Pickled fruit and ginger cleansed the palate between courses. More noodles then, served with abalone sauce followed by octopus, marinated with hot spices. Roast boar stuffed with fruit and herbs finished the feast.
By the time they reached the end, Dairu thought he might burst from pleasure. Surely the kitchens of Hantei had fallen directly from heaven.
Through it all the entertainment continued, though not in so bold a way as to disturb the diners. Undimmed by the fury of the storm outside, the party stretched into the night.
XXXXXXXX
The feast impressed Isawa Kaede—and she had been in the court long enough not to be impressed easily. It also annoyed her. Surely a visit by the Scorpion daimyo was no more important than a call by the leader of any other clan. Yet, Hantei the 38th always took special steps whenever Bayushi Shoju came to Otosan Uchi. What did the Scorpions do that was so important anyway? They were all liars, thieves, and assassins. Kaede folded her arms across her ample bosom and frowned.
The weather annoyed her as well. Something about it played on her nerves. Perhaps it was the combination of so many Scorpions and the raging storm outside. Scorpions always made her uneasy anyway. Scorpions liked this unsettling influence—it kept their enemies off guard.
Feasting with the Bayushi lord and lady also had a disquieting effect on Kaede's body this night. Or perhaps the incessant thunder caused her head to pound. Kaede hoped the weather would improve in time for the Fire Festival. Bonfires were notoriously hard to light when wet, and as a Phoenix, Kaede always enjoyed a good fire.
She raised her hand to her head and realized she was sweating, sweating far more than the humidity and temperature could explain. Am I ill? she wondered. She tried to summon her powers to vanquish the feeling, but couldn't concentrate.
Seated on the tatami next to her, Ishikawa leaned over and asked, "Is anything wrong?"
"No," said Kaede. "I mean, yes.... I mean I'm not feeling well."
"It's the heat," said the captain. "Perhaps you should retire."
"No," she replied. "Not yet. I don't want to be impolite."
"You needn't worry about leaving," Ishikawa whispered. "I saw the royal heir sneak out some time ago."
Kaede frowned. "With that Miya girl?"
"Yes. Matsuo's daughter. Yashika, I think."
"Yumika," Kaede said.
"That's it. She seems perfect for him."
"She's a vain, shallow girl, interested only in her own pleasure."
Ishikawa nodded. "As I said. Have you tried the natto? It's excellent."
Kaede smiled despite herself. "I'm not sure if my stomach is up to it."
"If you need to make a strategic retreat, I'm your man."
She reached out and almost touched his hand. "Perhaps I should. Let me make my good-byes." She got to her feet but brought her hand to her mouth as her stomach lurched.
"Don't worry about it," he said, jumping up to support her. "The emperor is far too busy enjoying himself. No one will even notice you've left."
"That's a fine thing to say."
"You know what I meant."
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Despite Ishikawa's words, Bayushi Shoju did notice as the Phoenix lady left the hall. Her departure advanced his plans nicely. If she were to cause any trouble later, it would be easy to subdue or eliminate her—and Ishikawa as well.
Shoju thought of the other dignitaries.
Yoshi of the Crane had left before the feast, returning to his home. He could offer no resistance. His young protegee Doji Shizue remained but was lame and powerless. Near her sat Seppun Daiori. Despite his addiction, he was a man of principle and therefore might prove difficult.
Shoju whispered instructions to a retainer to watch Daiori and neutralize him if necessary.
No one else posed a true threat. Miya Satoshi, the herald's son, had the youth to be a problem but not the temperament. His father, Yoto, had neither. Otomo Sorai was the emperor's troublemaker, but he was a politician. Even with a sword in his hand he would be no threat. The rest were minor officials and the sons and daughters of courtiers. They were rabble, all, but rabble in sufficient numbers could be dangerous. Shoju hoped his speech would persuade many of them to his point of view.
Killing might be necessary, but Shoju preferred to do as little as possible. The hum in his mind reminded him that the bloodsword felt differently.
Foremost in Shoju's thoughts, though, was the emperor. He was the key to the return of Fu Leng, and he sat within easy reach on his dais. His drunken heir had meanwhile slipped out with that Miya girl. Shoju had sent word to his ninja to track down Sotorii and kill him. The heir would not survive the night.
As sake washed away the last of the food, Shoju sensed that the time had come. Seizing the moment, he rose from the floor and looked at the emperor.
The hall grew quiet. Even the storm seemed to hold its breath.
The humming in the Scorpion daimyo's head, the siren song of Yashin, grew louder.
"Your Imperial Majesty, noble lords and ladies," he began, "I am honored to be among you tonight. The people in this room represent the finest folk in Rokugan."
There was light applause, and a murmur of agreement ran through the room.
Behind his double mask, Bayushi Shoju smiled.
"The road we travel in life is often a difficult one," he said. "It seldom leads where we think it will. My road led me into the bowels of my own castle. Kyuden Bayushi is old, and its secrets are deeply hidden. I suspect many of you would give your lives to discover some of those secrets. Some of you may do so yet—inadvertently, of course."
It seemed to many in the hall as if the grin on the Scorpion's pleasant mask actually grew wider.
Shoju continued. "Those secrets have cost the lives of Scorpions as well. Perhaps most famous of these lost souls is Bayushi Daijin, who plumbed the secrets of Uikku, the Serene Prophet. What he learned drove Daijin mad. He perished in the catacombs beneath the Bayushi palace. No one knew what he had discovered ... until now."
A whisper swept through the crowd. Bayushi Tetsuo appeared at his daimyo's side and handed Shoju an ornate scroll case. The young lieutenant slipped back into the crowd and surreptitiously left the hall.
The Scorpion lord held the scroll up for all to see. "Behold the testament of Bayushi Daijin!" he said. He began to unroll it. Green sparks flew from the parchment.
The crowd gasped. Even the dozing emperor seemed to become more alert.
Seppun Bake edged forward to get a better look. "Can this be true?" he asked. "Why was I not told? Why was his majesty not told?"
"Would I send a lowly messenger to foretell the end of the world?" Shoju asked, his mask bathed in the scroll's green light. "For that is what this scroll contains, the prophecy of the end of the Emerald Empire."
A cry went up from the assemblage.
Near the front of the hall, Seppun Daiori stood and shouted, "Impossible!"
Shoju turned his gaze on the man, and Daiori almost thought he could see red eyes blazing behind the smiling mask. "Quite true, I assure you," Shoju said. He held the scroll so that the others could glimpse the burning green characters. The scroll fought to roll itself shut. Shoju would not allow it. He was the artifact's master.
"The empire is strong," Daiori replied, folding his arms across his chest, "as is its emperor. We are not impressed by your magic tricks, Scorpion. What could destroy the power
of the clans? We are stronger now than we have ever been."
"Strong we may be," said Shoju, "but not invulnerable."
Upon his dais, the emperor stirred. He fixed Shoju with his eyes and sternl
y asked, "Who could have the power to threaten the empire?"
"Only one ..." Shoju said,"... Fu Leng."
At the name of the Evil One, huge green sparks leapt from the scroll. They shot into the air and disappeared within the vault of the chamber. A gasp went up from the audience, and murmurs of fear filled the room.
"The Evil One is locked away forever in his accursed land," said Bake. "The Crab tends the wall diligently. He will never escape. He will never return to Rokugan."
"Is that what your teachings tell you, Master Bake?" asked Shoju. "If so, they are wrong." Shoju stared hard at the emperor's religious advisor. Bake sat down.
The Scorpion daimyo let the parchment roll itself shut. The green sparks died away. "Listen," he said, lowering the scroll and setting it on the floor before the emperor, "for this is the prophecy of the return of Fu Leng." He waited for silence to settle over the hall.
"The scroll tells us that even now, the Evil One begins his return to Rokugan," Shoju said, turning and looking at all the guests in the room. "Unless we act, we are living in the final days of the Emerald Empire!"
"Are you saying you have the power to prevent this catastrophe?" Seppun Daiori asked skeptically.
Shoju nodded. "Yes. But the price will be terrible."
"Surely there must be another way," Bake said. "If the price is so high, why pay it?"
"The scroll tells us why," Shoju said, pointing to where the artifact lay. "Long hours I have pored over it with the best minds in my service."
Bake huffed. "But not the best minds in the empire."
"Would you debate me on this matter?" Shoju asked, allowing his honeyed voice just a hint of sarcasm. "If so, pick up the scroll; read it. You will forgive me if I continue my story while you do."
Bake scurried forward and picked up the scroll. The move surprised Shoju only a little. The emperor's hunched advisor thirsted for knowledge almost as much as he desired the emperor's praise. Fortunately, even if Bake foiled the ancient magic, even if he deciphered the key portions of the scroll, it would be too late for him to stop what Shoju had planned. The Scorpion ignored the sycophant and continued.
"The language of the scroll is archaic, difficult, but the story it tells is plain. There are signs that the return of Fu Leng is imminent, and you must believe me when I say that all these signs have been fulfilled.
"His return will be terrible indeed. Clan shall set upon clan like famished dogs. The rivers will run red with blood. Cities, and even entire homelands, will burn. That won't be the worst of it, for though Fu Leng's mortal pawns will cause much chaos, not all of the Evil One's minions are human."
Shoju turned slowly, glancing around the chamber, making sure he held everyone's attention. Outside the castle the storm raged in cadence with the Scorpion's words, punctuating his remarks.
"Recently, I fought an ogre not a day's ride from Kyuden Bayushi, the very heart of the Scorpion lands. The beast slew four of my men before my retainer slew it. Its very presence so far from the Carpenter's Wall, from the supposed edge of Fu Leng's territory, proves that the barriers between our world and Jigoku have grown thin indeed.
"I do not blame the Crab. They have fought long and hard against the minions of the Evil One. Rather, I blame all of us, every noble lord and lady in this room, for ignoring the signs that are now so apparent. We became secure in the lives we've led for so long, lives of petty squabbling and clan skirmishes, lives where securing favor at court means more than personal responsibility."
"The Scorpion are not blameless in this!" someone—
Shoju thought it was one of the Moshis—called from the back of the room.
"I will shoulder our share of the blame," Shoju said. "Just as I will shoulder the responsibility for our part in preventing what is to come. What is to come will be like nothing any of us have ever lived through before. Imagine the worst battle, the worst war any of you have ever fought in. Then imagine the Evil One's demons fighting in the battle as well.
"The scroll of Uikku foretells it:
"They will pit clan against clan, fueling the hate that will burn us to bones. They will rape the land, slay our women and children, set fire to our fields, our farms, our homes. The sky will burn orange with the flames of Jigoku. The ground will be stained black with blood.
"Disfigured bodies will litter the landscape. Friends, clan mates, family, mothers, daughters, fathers, and sons—all of them will fall before the Evil One. They will be torn to pieces; they will lose arms, legs, heads. Their eyes will be gouged out, their remains desecrated by Fu Leng's creatures.
"But the dead will be the lucky ones. Those who live will be slaves for the Evil One. Their bodies will be burnt, abused, and corrupted. Boils will cover their flesh; their teeth will rot; their fingernails will be pulled out. Parts the Evil One has no use for will be fed to the dogs.
"By day the survivors will toil in the boiling pits of Jigoku. By night they will sleep in open graves. They will drink blood and eat human flesh.
"The warfare of Fu Leng will be eternal. It will never end so long as there is one living man or woman or child to fight for the Evil One's amusement. They will fight not until death, but until there is no more of them left to fight. They will fight without arms, without legs, without even teeth. The most noble lords and ladies will be reduced to nothing more than eta—the unclean.
"When they can fight no more, they will be tossed upon a mountain of similar wretches. Bereft of arms, legs, teeth, they will not even be able to burrow out of the obscene pile. Instead they will wait in unspeakable pain and fear, wait to be taken to the supper table of their captors."
Shoju spun toward the audience. With one swift move, he twisted his pleasant mask upside-down. Now the happy face became an angry, demonic visage.
The guests gasped and shrieked at the sight. Later some swore that Shoju's face itself had become that of a devil. Others said they saw images of blood-covered demons dancing obscenely around the room. A few swore that the very chamber itself became—for an instant—as black as the pits of Jigoku.
Bake dropped the scroll he had been trying to open. In the back of the hall, one of Miya Matsuo's daughters screamed and fainted dead away.
Outside, thunder crashed.
Shoju slowly turned his frightening countenance toward the emperor.
The Son of the Sun Goddess paled and shrank back.
Behind his frightful mask, Shoju smiled. "Picture all this in your minds," the Scorpion said quietly. "Remember it well. This is the fate that awaits all of us when Fu Leng returns. That day is near. All of you in this room will live long enough to regret it if we do nothing." He bowed low, almost touching his mask to the tatami mat. As he rose, he caught the eye of his wife, Kachiko. She smiled.
The emperor drew an ornate fan from somewhere within the folds of his kimono and fanned himself. He looked old, weak, uncertain. "Bayushi Shoju," he said, forcing his voice to remain calm, "you have said that this doom is upon us. Yet you have also said that we are living in our final days unless we act. Is there something we can do to avoid this terrible fate?"
Cries of, "Yes! Yes! What must we do?" echoed from around the room.
Shoju nodded gravely. The song of Yashin grew strong in his mind.
"Some say prophecy cannot be changed. And yet. . . and yet . . . Shinsei teaches that we each hold our own destiny within us. Like him, I believe a man—a strong man—can control his fate." Shoju looked slowly around the room once more before finishing. "A single man," he said, "can change the world. The actions of one man alone could save the empire. This I believe with all my soul."
Hantei the 38th looked at him. "Are you this man, Bayushi Shoju? Could you save our kingdom?"
"I could, Majesty," Shoju said, "but to save the empire, I would have to contemplate the darkest deeds, commit the foulest acts. My people would have to sacrifice life and perhaps even honor to support me. No man could sacrifice more, yet I tell you now that, for the sake of the Emerald Throne, I would
do it."
"Then you must do so," said Hantei.
Shoju took a step toward the emperor's dais, turning and speaking to the rest of the room.
"I have commission to act in your name?" Shoju asked Hantei the 38th. "To do whatever is necessary by any means possible?"
"You have it."
"I have your support both in this life and the next? I have your word that from this point on what I do I do only as an extension of you yourself? That my hand is your hand, that my sword is the sword of the emperor?"
The Scorpion had approached now to within just a few feet of the frightened emperor.
Hantei fought back the fear and steeled his face. "You are my strong right arm," he said. "What you do, you do by my leave—no, by my command. Bayushi Shoju, do what you must to save the empire."
"Then it is done," Shoju said.
In his mind the song of Yashin grew to a piercing shriek. All this time the blood sword had hovered at the Scorpion lord's back, invisible and undetectable. It had waited a thousand years, and now its moment had come.
Shoju looked into the aging emperor's eyes and quietly said, "Forgive me, my friend."
The Scorpion reached behind his back with both hands and seized the hilt of the bloodsword.
In that instant, the sword became visible to those in the hall. They gasped as they saw it, shimmering like heat rising over the desert, red like the setting sun. Thunder crashed and shook the very foundations of the castle.
Bayushi Shoju brought the sword down in one long, smooth stroke.
Yashin struck the emperor, cleaving Hantei from collarbone to hip. The Son of the Sun Goddess, leader of the Emerald Empire, fell to the floor, dead.
THE SCORPION COUP
Concern written across his face, Seppun Ishikawa looked at Isawa Kaede. The Phoenix Mistress of the Void had refused to return to her own chambers. Instead she had chosen the night air and the storm. They stood together on one of the palace's roofed verandahs, buffeted by the power of the tempest. The rain soaked the hems of their kimonos.
L5r - scroll 01 - The Scorpion Page 17