"I heard voices," she said, "and I was worried for you."
He crossed the distance between them in one long step and grasped her shoulders roughly with his bony hands. "What did you hear?" he hissed.
"N-nothing, Otennoo-sama," she said. His ragged fingernails pinched her kimono and dug into her soft shoulders. "Only voices. I thought perhaps you were talking in your sleep."
Hantei looked at her, and she saw in his face that he wasn't sure whether to believe her lie.
"I hoped to comfort you," she said, subtly flexing her shoulders so that the front of her kimono slipped open. "Perhaps we should lie together awhile. You could tell me what troubled your slumber."
"Yes," the boy emperor said finally, the word hissing out from between his pale lips. "I was talking in my sleep. I had some bad dreams, but they've gone, now." He let her shoulders go, stood back, and gazed at her.
Kachiko took a deep breath and smiled lovingly at him as his eyes wandered over her splendid figure. She made no attempt to adjust the open front of her robe. "Shall we lie together, my husband?"
Hantei shook his head and looked away from her. "No. No, I .. ." He stumbled, and Kachiko caught him. She supported his thin frame against her elegant body and helped him back into the room and over to his bedroll. His flesh felt hot.
How can anyone live with such fire inside? Kachiko wondered.
"I think I should just rest awhile," the emperor finished.
She nodded understandingly. "If you need me," Kachiko said, holding her voice under tight control, "simply call." She eased him down onto the futon and lowered his head gently to the pillow.
He seemed little more than a boy now, very different from the iron-thewed man who had accosted her moments earlier. She smiled sweetly at him.
"I'm feeling better every day," he said, his dark eyes flickering closed. "Better every day."
As Kachiko stood, he fell into a deep slumber. She paused at the doorway, wondering if she had time to poison his water jug. She decided not to chance it; he might only be faking. After what she had seen and heard, the Mistress of Scorpions felt she could take no further risks.
She stepped quietly from the room and into the deserted corridor beyond. Only when she had slid the fusuma shut behind her did she dare to breathe once more. She wiped her sweat-slick hands on the hem of her kimono. Her heart pounded in her breast until she felt like it would burst out. She closed the front of her kimono and pulled it tight around her body.
Quickly, the Mother of Scorpions moved back to the secret panel. She opened it and hurried to the other end of the corridor. Stepping through the far panel, she felt somewhat safer, but only somewhat. She wished Aramoro were at her side: strong, confident Aramoro. Just his presence would make her feel better.
She brushed a sweaty lock of hair from her forehead and closed the passageway behind her.
"Not all secrets are so easily dealt with," said a voice.
Kachiko spun, her thoughts flashing to the daggers concealed in her hairpins. She didn't pull them, though, not yet.
In an alcove nearby stood a man in a green traveling cloak. He carried a long staff and wore the daisho swords of a samurai. The shadows in the corridor hid his face from her.
"How did you get here?" the Mother of Scorpions asked coldly, as though she might slay the intruder with her piercing gaze.
"I have friends in high places," he said, "just as you have friends in low ones."
Kachiko's eyes narrowed. She drew herself up to her full, regal height. "Who are you?"
"My name isn't important," he said, "what I've come to tell you is, though."
Kachiko almost laughed. "You're a messenger?"
"Among other things," the Hooded Ronin said. "You're frightened, I know."
"I'm not frightened."
"Your desires have made you overreach your considerable abilities, I think," the ronin said. "Ambition caused your husband's downfall. See that it does not cause yours as well."
"I could have you executed for speaking to me like this," Kachiko said icily. "I could have you killed just for being here."
"Then you'd never hear what I have to say."
The Mother of Scorpions frowned. "Speak, then."
"Though you are frightened now, it is nothing compared to what will come," the ronin said gently, "Soon, your bravery will be tested as it never has been before. When that time comes, you must be the woman your late husband thought you were. You must be the Scorpion."
Kachiko snorted derisively. "What else could I be, fool?"
"You could be the ambitious, frightened, hateful woman I see before me now," the cloaked man said calmly.
A wave of anger passed over Kachiko's beautiful face. Her mind flashed to her concealed daggers once more. Her right hand stole toward her hairpins.
At that moment, a balding middle-aged man rounded the corner at the far end of the hallway. Kachiko turned toward him like a tiger ready to spring but saw that it was only Seppun Bake.
The ronin moved quickly. His cloak swirled wide, hiding the alcove in which he stood. Kachiko turned back, but by the time she did, the Hooded Ronin was gone. His empty cloak rested on the floor.
The empress stepped into the alcove, knelt, and picked up the edge of the ronin's green hood. He must know the secret passages here nearly as well as I do, she thought. But, how? The distant sound of a flute wafted to Kachiko's ears.
Seppun Bake shuffled quickly down the hall to her side.
"Is there anything wrong, Highness?" he asked in his grating, high-pitched voice.
The empress rose, straightened her kimono, and adjusted the dagger hairpins holding her raven tresses. "No," she said. "Nothing wrong. Someone left a cloak here. The servants have been remiss in their cleaning."
"I'll see that the proper person is flogged," said Bake, bowing low.
Kachiko nodded, turned, and walked regally down the corridor away from him. "See that you do."
She didn't stop until she reached her private chambers. There, she sat in a dark corner, alone and silent, until she fell asleep.
THE LION'S DUTY
Waves crashed against the sandy shores outside the great capital of Otosan Uchi. The tall, white breakers still carried the sting of winter on their crests, but the southerly breeze held a hint of approaching spring.
The city itself ran uphill from the bay, cresting in the towering cliff-top palace. The imperial castle shone white in the rising sun—reflecting the dreams and the glory of the kami of Rokugan. The great waterfall, Fudotaki, crashed down from the cliffs, sending rainbow sprays high into the morning air. Even in the grip of the plague, even in the waning of winter, the castle and the Forbidden City spoke of the grandeur of the sun goddess, Amaterasu.
Soon, Matsu Tsuko thought, the plague will wash away and spring will blossom within Otosan Uchi. The emperor will leave the white walls of his palace and shine upon the people like his mother the sun goddess. We will defeat the Crab and send them scurrying back to their
holes along the Kaiu Kabe. Then the Lion can cast out the weak-kneed Crane and the sycophant Seppun and take their place in the councils of the emperor. The empire will be strong once more.
Sitting atop her proud steed, Tsuko gazed out over the waves. In the distance, tall white shapes bobbed to and fro. These ghostly silhouettes were not whitecaps, Tsuko knew, but the sails of the Crab armada. Soon, they would storm ashore and try to take the palace. Perhaps they would do as the traitor Shoju had done and overthrow the emperor.
Tsuko smiled. The Crab could not yet guess that the Lion were waiting for them. They'd know soon enough, though, and then the proud Crab would also know fear.
The Lion daimyo had prepared carefully for the coming battle. She'd arrayed her troops along the shoreline, protecting the most vulnerable spots, all the while leaving a few strategic beaches open for a Crab landing. Those beaches were traps, designed to lure the headstrong Crab into the Lion's jaws.
Tsuko looked forward to clashing sw
ords with Hida Kisada, the Great Bear himself. Kisada's battle prowess was renowned, and he had led the powerful Crab armies for many long years. Tsuko knew, though, that those years were beginning to tell on the Crab daimyo.
Part of her wished she could face Kisada in his prime. Another part rejoiced in anticipation of the Lion's victory—her victory.
The defeat of the Crab would quiet the tongues of doubters and make them forget about Toturi—supposedly the greatest general in the history of Rokugan. Tsuko snorted at the thought and spat into the coarse sand.
The Lion daimyo's heart thundered. For the first time in many months, she felt happy. This was where she belonged. This was the duty she was born to. None could doubt that her honor was spotless in this matter. None could serve the emperor better than she.
Kisada and Toturi had forgotten their honor. They had forsaken the oaths that bound their ancestors to those of the Hantei. Honor and oaths were things that Tsuko could never cast aside. That was why she would crush first the Crab and then the Black Lion himself.
Her samurai marched down the long strand of beach between Tsuko's massed troops and Otosan Uchi's wharves. Occasionally, a patrol would root out a Shadowlands straggler or a Crab sympathizer. The guards quickly put these traitors to the sword. They stuck the bodies on long poles as a warning to the Crabs coming to invade the capital.
Tsuko smiled and charted the arc of the sun overhead— watching time pass, anticipating the victory. Soon, now. Very noon. Her generals had their orders. All waited in perfect readiness.
She returned to her tent and pored over her battle maps one last time, just to be sure. The plans were perfect—deadly and flexible. Following them, she would lead the Lion to complete victory.
I'd like to see Toturi do better! Tsuko thought. She carefully rolled the plans into their cases.
As she did, a young samurai-ko named Mei opened the flaps "I the tent and bowed low. "A thousand pardons, Tsuko-sama," she said. "A messenger has come from the capital."
"Show him in," Tsuko said.
Mei bowed aside, and a bald-pated man stepped into the tent. Hie two yojimbo accompanying him lingered just outside the tent flaps. Black hair sprung up below the man's crown and hung in long strands over his narrow shoulders. He wore a carefully arranged kimono festooned with flower designs. His smile .rcmed cloying and insincere.
Tsuko recognized him as Seppun Bake, one of the emperor's yes men. Bake held no opinions of his own, preferring instead to reflect those of more powerful samurai. The Lion daimyo frowned. It was not unusual for the emperor to send written wishes for success in battle before a war. It was strange, however, that he should chose this sycophant to deliver the missive.
Bake looked around nervously and withdrew an ornate scroll case from his robes. He bowed and handed the silk to Tsuko. "Our glorious emperor sends his regard to the most loyal of his daimyo," Bake said. "As a servant of the Shining Prince, we are sure that you will understand his glorious instructions." Bowing again, he retreated quickly from the tent.
Tsuko scratched her head as she heard Bake and his bodyguards ride out of camp. Her eyes fell to the scroll in her hand. Something about the decorated silk made the fine hairs on the back of Tsuko's neck stand up. She pulled the scroll from the case and carefully unrolled it.
The characters painted on the scroll's silk burned into Tsuko's eyes and made her brain go numb. Tsuko knew now why the emperor had sent his best toady to deliver the message. No one with more honor could be trusted to relay such a missive.
The Lion daimyo let the scroll slip from her fingers. It dropped onto a low table and nearly slid over the edge. Tsuko wandered the tent in a daze, rubbing her head and trying to comprehend what she'd read.
By the grace of Amaterasu, we command our most loyal Matsu Tsuko to ride away from Otosan Uchi upon the opening of this scroll. She must leave the field of battle and not return. She is to appoint no one to command in her stead. By the will of the Fortunes, the Lion must fight this battle alone.
Do this without hesitation as you love your emperor and Rokugan.
—Emperor Hantei the 39th, the Shining Prince
Tsuko's head swam. Cold sweat broke out upon her brow. Could this be one of the Scorpion empress's tricks? No. Tsuko felt sure of it. Why would the Scorpion want the Lion to be lead-erless? Why would she want the troops protecting the city to be slaughtered? Why would she want the Crab to enter the great city?
But why would Emperor Hantei want such things either? It made no sense! Tsuko gazed once more at the emperor's hanko signature and imperial seal. The chilling reality of the parchment made her head spin. These orders came from the emperor himself; they could not be disobeyed, or even questioned.
Anger churned in Tsuko's breast. She stalked around the tent, kicking over her low dresser. Her carefully chosen victory wardrobe flew into the air and floated to the ground in a jumble.
She roared her defiance, seized the pavilion's brazier and overturned it, spilling the contents onto the tent's sole rug. Char-i oal sparked and ashes covered the silk's brilliant designs, turning them as dark as Tsuko's soul. Still the remains of the embers glowed, and the fire in the Lion's heart was not quenched.
In her mind's eye she saw the battle turning. What might have been a glorious Lion victory now degenerated into a vision of ignominious defeat. The blood of her troops would stain the sand and sea.
"I am sworn to obey the emperor in all things," she hissed quietly. "My pledge is my honor. My honor is my life." She put her hands to her temples and held on tight, feeling her head might explode.
Sparks and bright stars danced before her vision. Embers from the brazier caused the silk rug to smolder; the smoke stung her eyes and made her nostrils flare. She stumbled and leaned against the tent's central timber.
For a few long moments, she could do nothing but cling to the pole as she struggled with her emotions. Finally, the Lion daimyo mastered herself.
She had no options. There was only one thing she could do.
Tsuko threw back the flaps and exited the tent. Her dark eyes gazed past the battlefield and over the sea. The Crab loomed close now, very close. Heavily armored samurai stood on the gunwales of the boats, and Crab archers readied a volley to "soften up" the beachhead.
Turning from the ocean, she saw her samurai waiting patiently on the shores near the great capital. They needed only her command to crush the invaders. Tsuko clamped her teeth shut and willed her lips to stop quivering. She blinked back the moisture at the edges of her eyes. Many of these brave samurai would die today—and she could do nothing about it.
"Bring my horse," Tsuko barked to a guard standing near the doorway. The man bowed and quickly returned with her proud mount.
As she took her reins in hand, Matsu Yojo rode up, his handsome face smiling. "All is in readiness, Tsuko-sama," he reported. "This shall be a glorious day for the Lion." Still grinning, he bowed to her.
Tsuko glanced at him, her eyes filled with pride, anger, and sorrow. She turned away without a word and mounted her tall steed. She spurred her horse uphill, away from the battlefield.
As she rode out, a great cheer rose from her troops. They thumped their spears against their armor and called her name. Matsu Tsuko bit her lip and kept riding, not daring to look back.
The cheers built to a crescendo as she crested the hill above the city. The afternoon sun blazed in her eyes, scalding her sight. Her horse whinnied a question. "Don't stop," she whispered desperately. "Don't stop."
The horse trotted on. Tsuko heard the cheers turn to bewilderment as she dropped out of sight behind the hill. Cries of "Fire! The daimyo's tent is burning!" echoed to her. The roaring of the Crab-filled sea thundered in her ears. She heard the pulling of the oars, the creaking of the ships' timbers, the murmured anticipation of the Crab samurai.
On shore, her samurai cried out in confusion. Each voice was a dagger into Tsuko's heart.
Suddenly, a new sound: hoofbeats. She glanced back to see Matsu Yo
jo riding hard behind her. He reined up beside Tsuko.
"Mistress," he said in a perplexed voice, "where are you going? The battle is about to begin. Your samurai cry out for your leadership."
"I've been ordered from the battlefield by the emperor," Tsuko said, the words almost freezing on her lips.
"Ordered not to fight?" Yojo asked, shocked. "B-but that's the gravest insult!"
"Do you think I don't know that?" Tsuko roared, spinning on him. Her eyes blazed with anger. "There's nothing more I can do." She spurred her horse onward.
"But, who shall command our troops?" Yojo called plaintively.
"There's nothing more I can do," Tsuko called back, not daring to face her commander lest he see the tears in her eyes.
Yojo turned and galloped back toward the battlefield. Tsuko i rested the next hill and looked back. She saw Yojo's Lion banner, ilie one attached to his armor, flapping in the breeze as he disappeared beyond the ridge.
The Crab boats rolled ashore, just as Tsuko had anticipated, lull there was no one there to lead her people—no one to close the trap.
Her heart froze as the war cries of the two clans shook the hills. Time slowed to a crawl as the terrible tableau unfolded. Crab archers rained red-fletched death among the Lion troops. Brave samurai charged forward, only to be cut down in the surf before the Crab boats.
Some of her commanders, Yojo among them, tried to rally the I roops and organize them, but it was no use. The Crab struck quickly, swarming ashore and attacking with terrible brutality. The Lions fell back. Severed limbs littered the beaches like driftwood; the sea ran red with blood.
The invaders pushed forward, scattering the great city's defenders before them like kindling. Fires sprang up among Lion's tents. Horses neighed in fear and pain. Oni strode among the Crab forces. The demons killed everyone they encountered.
Tsuko gripped her reins tightly, knuckles white with exertion. She longed to ride down, to strike out, to slay the demons and to avenge her people. Yet, her oath held her fast.
With every Lion that toppled, a heavy blow fell upon her heart. She felt her spirit shatter into a million black fragments. All her years of impeccable service, all her vaunted Matsu honor—it all came down to this.
L5r - scroll 07 - The Lion Page 7