L5r - scroll 05 - The Crab

by Stan Brown

  The oni leaned back and considered, his expression similar to the one Kisada wore in such situations—half disbelief and half curiosity.

  "Sitting on the throne is no guarantee of control. The emperor cannot master his own wife, let alone the ambitions of (he clans. Taking the throne wouldn't give me unquestioned authority over anyone.

  "But I can rule the country—control the movement of troops. You want me to assure that the Rokugani forces will not wage war against your troops. I cannot guarantee that even I could do that from Otosan Uchi," Kisada paused dramatically. "But I can promise that when I seize control of Beiden Pass!"

  "The pass?" croaked the oni. It scratched its chin with a finger made of entwined tentacles. "You will not move against an emperor you know to be weak and unable to rule, but you will make a military maneuver that will bring you in conflict with every other clan in your empire?"

  Kisada threw his head back and laughed. "After fighting the Crab for so long, I'd have thought you'd understand us better! My duty is to protect the empire, whether from unholy monstrosities or from honorless dogs. If other clans cannot see that civil war is a threat to the empire, I have no compunction about teaching them with steel and blood."

  The oni nodded. "You truly are a man of vision, Crab Lord."

  Kisada waited. So far the oni had agreed to nothing.

  "I cannot accept this proposal. The taking and holding of a mountain pass is a temporary thing. What you win today, you could lose tomorrow. If anything goes wrong for you, my army's inaction will bring Fu Leng's wrath down on us all."

  "What is the difference?" demanded the Great Bear. "Could I not just as easily lose the throne, if I decided to make it mine?"

  The oni laughed that terrible, grating laugh. "Any warrior can kill a foe or take a pass—but it takes a legend to kill an emperor!"

  "So you reject my offer?" Kisada was obviously displeased.

  "As I said," the oni continued, "I cannot completely hold off our attacks based on your plan. However, I can offer you two things: a reduction in aggression against your position, and support in your efforts to take the pass, if not the throne."

  The Great Bear blinked several times.

  "Support?" said Kisada. "What do you mean support? And how severely would you curtail your assault on the Wall?"

  The oni smiled so broadly that several tendrils snapped and whipped around at the side of the creature's maw.

  "I offer support in the form of troops. I will send as many of my warriors with you as you like. Our mission is to invade Rokugan—Fu Leng never said anything about waging war against the Crab in order to do so."

  Kisada cocked his eyebrow and tilted his head slightly. "You will place your troops under my command?"

  "No," the oni looked aghast. "They will not fight for your cause. But they will march by your side and bolster the apparent size of your army. Your army will seem an unstoppable force. Tell me how many troops you wish to take. Every goblin, ogre, and zombie that follows you is one more creature who will not be assaulting your precious wall in your absence."

  Kisada sat as still as a decorative suit of armor. For a very long time he said nothing. "You want me to march my army off to war alongside an army of our greatest enemies? How can we possibly trust that your warriors will not turn on us the minute we lie down to sleep? How can I be sure that you will not order your beasts to wait until we are engaged in battle with our enemy, then attack us from our exposed flanks?"

  "And how do I know, Hida Kisada, that you will not march my subjects into the heart of enemy territory and slay them where they stand? Trust, you see, cannot always be earned. Sometimes mutual suspicion is enough. I respect you, Crab Lord. I do not trust you. This proposal is so perilous for both of us that we cannot enter into it with duplicity in our hearts. We have no choice but to be true to one another."

  xxxxxxxx

  From their vantage at the plateau's edge, Yakamo and Yori could make out most of what the oni said. Its voice resonated low and clear and seemed to travel through the very ground itself. However, they could not hear a word said by the Great Bear.

  "How can he accept such a proposal?" Yakamo said.

  "Your father is a cunning general," replied Yori, though he knew the question was rhetorical. "He knows that sometimes the most strategic tactic is not the most likely to succeed. The one your enemy least expects is."

  Yakamo looked at the shugenja.

  "If he does agree," Yakamo said, this time specifically to the shugenja, "what does that mean for the Crab? For a thousand years we have defined ourselves by our fight against the Shadow-lands. If we march into battle with those creatures at our sides, what do we stand for?"

  Yori smiled underneath his hood. He had been waiting for Yakamo to ask this question, and now he needed to be careful in answering it. He had to let the silence hang for just the right amount of time, and he himself had to appear to struggle with the matter. The shugenja raised a hand to his long mustache and stroked it pensively. This was the art of manipulation. This was the moment when years of planning came together.

  "History is replete with tales of enemies who became the closest of allies," he finally said in his practiced, faraway voice— the one that made it seem he was drawing on some mystical store of knowledge. "If Kisada succeeds in bridging this gulf, he may well be remembered as the greatest leader in the history of the empire."

  Yakamo grunted in agreement. As far as he was concerned, his father already deserved that accolade.

  "Savor this moment, Yakamo-san," Yori continued. "It is one that history will remember for centuries to come. Make yourself a part of it. Use it to improve your own karma."

  Yakamo became still, his eyes never leaving his father's yet-silent figure.

  xxxxxxxx

  "Very well," Kisada finally answered. "I will take two thousand of your troops to march alongside mine."

  The oni clapped its tremendous hands together once.

  "So it shall be," the creature said. "They will report to your Wall at first light tomorrow. Remember, they will follow you and take your marching orders, but they will not fight for you."

  Kisada smiled wryly. "But they will, I think, defend themselves if attacked by other forces."

  "Without a doubt."

  Both Kisada and the oni burst into laughter, but not at each other. For the first time, the two ancient enemies laughed together.

  "Now have your shugenja release me, and we will drink a toast to our new alliance."

  Kisada grew deathly quiet.

  "We are not allies," he said. "And you are not leaving that prison."

  "What?" roared the oni.

  "Let's call it 'insurance,'" the Great Bear said. "I need some guarantee that your soldiers here will behave themselves while my army is divided. I suspect that even depleted by two thousand, your army could continue to throw their lives away on our blades for weeks before we noticed a slack in your attacks."

  "You are indeed clever—and quite correct," replied the oni. "But the fact is that my army poses a greater threat to your position if I am imprisoned and cannot punish them for disobeying my orders, which they do with alarming frequency."

  Kisada considered this. "So what I need is a way to put you back in command of your forces and still maintain the position of strength I have while you're my prisoner."

  "I know how you can accomplish such a thing," said a figure who had not been there a moment before. It was small and thin, and its face was hidden beneath a black velvet hood.

  "Yori!" Kisada snapped.

  "I humbly apologize for disobeying your orders, Tono," the shugenja said, bowing deeply. "But I believe I know how to overcome your current conundrum."

  "Yes?"

  "Give the oni a name," Yori said. His voice had a musical lilt, as though he was explaining some incredibly obvious fact to a young child.

  "A name?" Kisada asked.

  "A name," said the oni. "My Dark Lord and master does not allow his minions su
ch luxuries."

  Kisada stared wide-eyed. He could not begin to fathom an existence without an identity—particularly with a life as long as

  an oni's.

  "Fu Leng knows the power of a name, the fear it can instill and the devotion it can inspire," the creature continued. "He forbids us from having or taking names. Only the children of the other kami may name us."

  "More correctly," Yori said, "someone can share his name with the oni and thus control it. When a human gives his name to a creature of darkness, the two are inextricably linked. If the person is sufficiently resolute, he will control the oni."

  "And if the person is less strong-willed?" asked the Crab daimyo.

  "Then I would control him," answered the oni.

  "Essentially, yes," agreed Yori.

  The Great Bear straightened his armor and raised himself to his full height.

  "Give the creature my name," Kisada said.

  "No!"

  Yakamo came running up to the group. He stopped nose-to-nose with his father and placed himself directly between the Great Bear and the imprisoned oni.

  "You are clearly the best choice, Father," he said. "No one can match your courage, determination, or strength. But in the coming days you will be responsible for overseeing the single most important military campaign in Rokugan's history. The strain of controlling so forceful a creature as this," he looked over his shoulder, "would jeopardize the entire operation." Yakamo bowed deeply. "I humbly ask to be given this terrible responsibility."

  Kisada's first reaction was to deny Yakamo's request. The young man had all ready been through so much, and would be going through even more in the weeks ahead.

  Kuni Yori stepped up and whispered in Kisada's ear.

  "Who better than the heir to the Crab daimyo?" the shugenja hissed. "His reputation will be secured not only among our clan but among all the others as well—the man who tamed an oni. Tono, you may be disliked in some quarters, but no one doubts your capabilities. Yakamo must be given the chance to prove himself for all the world to see. This is the stuff from which legends are made!"

  Kisada ground his teeth—a sound like the one made when the oni smiled. "Very well. You have my consent."

  "The containment spell will have to come down," Yori said. "I will need to lay my hands on both parties. The naming ritual is perfunctory, but accuracy is required."

  The Great Bear grunted assent, then shot the oni a glare warning it against trying to escape.

  The beast nodded solemnly.

  With a simple snap of Yori's fingers, the glowing white sphere winked out of existence. The oni, though, did not tumble to the ground in a heap. Instead it nimbly rolled in midair and landed softly in a three-point stance, like a runner preparing to sprint. Rather than burst away, the oni stood tall, and then sat on its haunches.

  Both Yakamo and the oni held out their right hands.

  Kuni Yori clutched Yakamo's wrist and wrapped his hand around one ropelike tendril of the oni's thumb. He closed his eyes and began to mumble in an ancient tongue remembered only by sorcerers. He called to the elements, as he had to forge the prison. His body began to shiver as though someone even larger and stronger than Kisada stood behind the shugenja, shaking him vigorously.

  Yakamo began to shake as well, his armor rattling like an army of Shadowlands skeletons climbing the Wall. He began mumbling in the same language as Yori, echoing the shugenja's words mere seconds after he spoke them. The oni too began to shiver. Every tendril on the creature twitched individually, and Kisada feared it might fly into a thousand pieces.

  The three of them stayed that way, connected and shuddering, for a full minute.

  Yori's eyes shot open. The hood flew off his painted face as though an invisible hand tugged it. All three participants llirew their heads back and howled one word to the heavens— " Yakamooooooooooo!"

  That name rolled out like a word of power, bringing the shuddering trance to an end. The contact between oni and shugenja ;ind samurai broke.

  Yori pulled his hood low over his face and hid his hands inside his sleeves. He stood stock still for a very long time.

  Yakamo slumped momentarily, then stood upright. He shook his head as if slightly disoriented.

  The oni stood proud and tall, its attitude even more human than before. However, the tendrils covering its body continued to writhe and pop. Parts of the creature's head and arms seemed to be bulking up—it was metamorphosing before Kisada's eyes.

  "I have a name!" the oni cried. Its voice had less of the unnatural popping and grating than before; it was even beginning to sound more human. Raising both hands to the overcast sky, it threw its head back and laughed long and loud.

  "You have your freedom, Yakamo no Oni," Kisada said calmly. "Will you order your minions to lessen their assaults ;igainst my positions?"

  Yakamo no Oni looked at the Great Bear and smiled. Something about the shape the creature was taking felt disturbingly familiar.

  "So long as my samurai travel with you in peace, I order that aggression against the Crab wall cease," Yakamo no Oni said with a gracious bow.

  "Will your troops be ready to depart in the morning?" asked Kisada. He would never acknowledge the Shadowlands forces as samurai.

  "Hai!" said the creature.

  Kisada grunted and nodded. Without further ceremony, he spun on his heel, returned to his horse, mounted, and urged it back in the direction of the Wall.

  "One more thing, Kisada."

  The daimyo stopped but did not turn to face the oni.

  "We have taken a historic first step today," said the creature, "but there is so much more we could do for each other. My previous offer remains open, should you decide a mountain pass is not enough for you."

  "Beiden Pass is not a mere mountain pass. It is the heart of the empire."

  "Still," Yakamo no Oni said. "If you give me one life, one innocent life, I will put you on the Emerald Throne."

  "Get on your horses," the Great Bear barked at his son and adviser. "It is time to save the empire."

  PRELUDE TO WAR

  Are you Crab samurai, or whining children afraid of the shadows cast on your wall?"

  The assembled generals shuffled uncomfortably. At some point in their careers every one of them had been reprimanded by Hida Kisada for some transgression, but before now he had never called any of his soldiers cowards. Of course, the day was filled with things that had never happened before.

  In the past, Kisada had always met with his generals in the privacy of his command tent. Though the commander issued orders, the atmosphere had been casual. As much as Kisada was daimyo, he was also one of them—a soldier who had earned his position by serving on the Wall. Today, though, the Great Bear made them stand at attention in his courtyard while he sat imperiously on the tatami dais and issued commands.

  Those commands were the greatest surprise of all. How could the daimyo berate them for

  balking at the idea of marching into battle side by side with creatures from the Shadowlands?

  The generals looked to Hida Tsuru, Kisada's brother. As a rule, the other generals did not like Tsuru. He had all the worst aspects of the Hida family—the perfectionism, the demand for absolute obedience, and, most of all, the temper—but few of their finer qualities. Although he was an accomplished warrior, he did not have his brother's (or even his nephew's) leadership skills; his men followed him because they had to, and because he was a deadly fighter. His samurai held their commander in more fear than awe. Still, if anyone could talk sense to the Great Bear, it was Tsuru.

  "It is not that we are afraid, Kisada-sama," Tsuru ventured. "Our entire lives have been spent slaying these creatures—we have nothing for them in our hearts but contempt. You cannot expect samurai to fight alongside their most hated enemy."

  The other generals nodded and murmured their agreement.

  "Brother, you are a fine general, and as skilled a warrior as I've ever seen," Kisada's voice was flat and even, but it conta
ined an edge of anger sharper than any blade in the Crab armies. As he spoke he stepped closer and closer to Tsuru until the faceplate of his helmet was flush against the younger officer's nose. "But you know less than nothing about the matters at hand! As we prepare for this campaign I would rather take the advice of your horse.' At least it will do what it is told and not waste time balking!"

  Tsuru's cheeks flushed, and his hands clenched but did not flinch as his brother's breath and spit flew from the helmet.

  Kisada whirled to face the rest of the generals.

  "I have ruled this clan for more than twenty years. In all that time have you ever known me to do anything that was not in the best interest of the Crab?"

  "lie!" the generals said as one, Tsuru more loudly than any three others.

  "Have I ever put my personal interest above any samurai under my command?"

  "lie!"

  "Do you understand the ramifications of the empress's declaration? Do you see that civil war is about to tear the empire to pieces?"

  "Hai!"

  "And do any of you—any of you—have even the beginnings of a plan that will stop the dissolution of the empire, prevent the i Ian from being destroyed by our own supposed allies, rip power away from the treacherous Lady Scorpion, and prevent the Shadowlands from overrunning Rokugan?"

  Silence.

  The Great Bear waited.

  "Anyone?"

  Someone coughed nervously.

  "Well then," Kisada continued, his voice calmer, "I expect you all to go back to your posts and prepare your men for the upcoming campaign. They will be fighting an enemy unlike any they have ever faced—Rokugani samurai! Our purpose is not to win a war but to prevent one. It is the same battle we Crab have fought for a thousand years, and I expect nothing less than absolute success!"

  "Hai!" answered the generals as they bowed and backed out of the courtyard.

  "That could have gone better," said Sukune from the corner where he stood next to Yakamo.

  Before the audience had begun, Kisada asked both his sons to stand off to the side and say nothing. "Just wear the sternest face you can, and growl when I do," he'd said. They had no idea what he was going to tell the generals. Still they did as their father ordered, staring down the generals with a look of contempt that Kisada taught them the day they finished their training and became full fledged samurai. The look was surprisingly effective, even on older or higher-ranking officers.