L5r - scroll 03 - The Crane (13 page)

Outside, in the burning village, a horn sounded. Looking up from his bleeding shoulder, Toshimoko said, "More Lion?" He grimaced. "We haven't finished with these yet." Pain etched his face, but his voice and his sword were steady.

"No, Toshimoko." Hoturi stood slowly, testing his lightly injured leg. "That's not the sound of Lion troops. That's a northern troop cadence."

A shadow in the open street proved Hoturi's words. Three Lion lowered themselves into battle stances.

Hoturi stepped out of the hut.

The Lion soldiers roared to their companions and raised their blades.

A single Phoenix samurai-ko, her black hair shining over her flame-colored armor, stood wreathed in the smoke of Haikeun's buildings. She smiled peacefully, holding her sword gently in one hand. Behind her, two men stood, their robes shifting in the wind of the flames. As the Lion marched toward her, the young woman smiled and raised her sword.

At her cue, the men began to chant. The flames around her soared to the sky with the power of the kami. The Phoenix shugenja lifted the spirits of the flame to do their bidding. Chanting the mantra of the fire kami, they called to the blaze, summoning the heart of each flickering flame to life. Fire danced, arching higher above the street. It pulsed with the sound of the shugenjas' voices. It twisted across the dark road and glared from the sword of the samurai-ko.

The woman advanced through the shifting flames, stepping within the roaring inferno. As fire danced around her, the Lion retreated, their steps unsure.

With a powerful lunge, the Phoenix was upon them. Her bright sword was shrouded in burning flame.

The Lion screamed as its white-hot power struck through them. One was consumed in flame, and the other was cut apart by the samurai-ko's sword. As the third Lion fled from the onslaught, the woman smiled behind a thick veil of black hair.

"Honorable Hoturi-sama," she shouted over the battle sounds. "It seems you have a fight on your hands. Can we be of service?" Her eager grin belied the serious words.

"We would never begrudge you any kind of amusement, Tsukune-san!" Hoturi smiled at the staring Toshimoko for a moment, and then bowed in return to the samurai-ko. "Shiba Tsukune-san, this is my sensei, Kakita Toshimoko-san."

"Introductions can wait, my lord," Tsukune saluted both men. Her sword smoked from the heat of the Phoenix flames. Suddenly, through the smoke, Hotusi could see twenty more Phoenix bushi stood, confident and silent, behind Tsukune. With an eager smile, the samurai-ko said, "There are Lion to fight."

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The Lion retreated to the north, toward Matsu Tsuko's gathering armies. Their banners were torn and charred, but their golden mon still gleamed from more than twenty shoulders. Of the Phoenix, eighteen survived, including the two Isawa shugenja and their mistress. The village of Haikeun smoldered, but most of the buildings still stood.

Hoturi stood in the doorway of a heimin's hut and stared after the retreating Lion troops. They still had the upper hand. Tsuko still gathered troops to the north, threatening Sayo Castle and the winter provisions of the Crane.

Toshimoko lay on a mat within the huts. A young Isawa Yao bound his wounds and prayed to the spirits for the sen-sei's swift recovery.

"He was lucky not to lose the arm," Tsukune said, moving silently behind Hoturi and gazing after the Lion. As if she could read Hoturi's thoughts, she bowed slightly and continued. "Toshimoko-san will live to hold his sword for many more duels, Crane Champion. And, if his reputation correctly precedes him," her lips curved narrowly beneath a dark shock of hair, "to hold more than a few geisha as tightly as before."

Hoturi laughed. "Tsukune-san." Bowing, he admired Tsukune's athletic form. She had removed her armor and wore only the short gi of a bushi. It suited her, Hoturi thought. He looked away before she could notice how his eyes had strayed to the gentle curves hidden by the brightly colored plates of her do.

"Hoturi-sama." Her cheeks dimpled in the sunlight, and her eyes danced a dark brown. The wind lifted the sweat-dampened hair from her neck.

"What will you do now?" he asked.

"Katsuda is still injured, as are several of my men." Tsukune glanced at the village behind them. "This small town is not provisioned to feed my men for several weeks, nor can 1 move them far.

"Kyuden Kakita is only three days' march to the south," Hoturi smiled.

Tsukune nodded, and her eyes narrowed. "Tell me, Hoturi-sama," she said, looking north. "How long has it been since you traveled to the Phoenix lands?"

"Four years, my lady."

"Four years." She paused, straightening her obi and the sword that hung gently at her side. "And yet you would invite me to your palace, as if it were only yesterday." Tsukune looked up at Hoturi. Something moved behind her eyes, a memory of times long past. She had seen through his invitation—a legion of Phoenix, even small, would lend great strength to Kyuden Kakita's defenders. Trapped by early snows, they could be forced to remain through the winter—and reward their hosts with valor in battle, come spring.

"Come to my tent this evening, Crane Champion, and speak with me."

"You would discuss my offer of hospitality?"

"I would discuss your bargaining techniques." She smiled. "You have lost some of your wit since your marriage, Hoturi-sama. By now, you would have invited me to your tent, not waiting for me to ask you to mine." For an instant, she slepped toward him. He could smell the sharp scent of her athletic body.

A noise behind them disturbed their reverie. Toshimoko coughed, spitting something to the ground as he came toward the two bushi. He moved his arm gingerly. "Your healer is well trained," he said gruffly, bowing to the Phoenix samurai-ko.

"Thank you, Kakita-san," Tsukune smiled, turning. "If you wish to eat, there will be food at my tent in an hour. You are both welcome to test Phoenix hospitality."

"No, thank you, Shiba-san. I've already seen your hospitality when you fought the Lion." Toshimoko laughed. "I'd say the Phoenix make keen hosts." He indicated her blade and the retreating Lion army and laughed again. "I'll eat in my own tent, thank you very much."

She bowed, laughing, and turned toward her tent. "If you will excuse me, Samurai, I will go to bathe. The day has wearied me, and I must rest." Tsukune glanced again at Hoturi before she walked away. Her eyes revealed nothing of her inner thoughts.

Watching her retreat, Hoturi smiled. Though she was wearing only a simple rose-colored gi, it clung to her body with the sweat of the day's fighting. Trimmed silver patterns gleamed among the plain threads as a reminder of the Phoenix's wealth and prestige among the clans. Her silver rings, sign of her oath of fealty to her clan , were absent from her hands, but Hoturi knew that they were with her. Most likely, they had been hidden in her obi to leave her fingers free to wield her sword. Once she had bathed, they would return—constant reminders of the blood she had shed to become one of the chosen of the Elemental Masters.

Hoturi paused to make a proper bow to Toshimoko.

"You knew the Phoenix were coming."

"Yes," Hoturi said, "But I did not know the command would be hers. The Fortunes have made me a lucky man."

"You know her?"

Hoturi smiled. "Once, I knew her ... well."

"And now?" The sensei grunted.

"Now ..." The champion of the Crane paused, his smile fading. "She is a tool to secure allies for our clan."

Toshimoko stretched his arm again, testing its strength. "Do not forget your position. It is dangerous to play these games."

"Dangerous to lose, perhaps, but not dangerous for me."

Toshimoko glanced after the Shiba, watching as she stepped behind the silk flap of her large tent. The silver and rose banners of the Phoenix were being lifted by a young soldier, placing the pole of the mon firmly in the ground before the samurai-ko's tent "Very brave. I approve." Toshimoko winked at Hoturi. "But never underestimate your opponent, Hoturi. Nothing is ever as it seems." With a somber nod, the old sensei lowered his arm.

It had been four years since Doji Hoturi had spent the winter months in the cold northern lands of the Shiba. He still remembered the beautiful mountains, covered with snow and ice, waterfalls trickling slowly down the slopes. She had laughed then, when he approached her, laughed with cheeks reddened by the bitter winter wind. Tsukune had been more than a dalliance. She had been a lover. Hoturi stared after her, watching lanterns within the tent cast shadows on the walls.

Ameiko knew about the others, of course. She forgave him for them. Marriage did not imply faithfulness. Only loyalty. Hoturi would never harm Ameiko—but he could never love her. She understood that his duty to the clan came first. Watching the shadow of Tsukune's body slide across the silk walls of the tent, Hoturi smiled gently. His duty to the clan was to provide it with protectors against the Lion, to ensure that the Phoenix would travel to Kyuden Kakita.

Hoturi bathed in the river nearby, washing the sweat of battle from his skin. Though the mark on his leg still bled lightly, it was only a slight wound. The scar would be faint, and his leg could bear the weight even now. He dressed in a clean brown gi and hakima, the casual dress of a ronin. Though the Phoenix knew his true name, there were no other robes to wear.

The guard at the tent door saluted. His armored helm nodded in a deferential bow. "My lady is waiting for you, Doji-sama."

"Yes," said Hoturi. "I'm certain that she is." Confidently, he pushed aside the flap and stepped inside.

The tent was clean and sparse, ornamented only by the gleaming suit of armor on its stand and the dai-sho in their holder to one side. Golden glows emanated from three lanterns that hung from the arched ceiling, and the coals of a small fire glistened in the center of the earth floor. The Phoenix were wealthy, but such a display was almost certainly designed to impress. The Phoenix had intended to meet with him—but not, he suspected, in a small village under Lion attack.

"Four years, Hoturi," Tsukune said. She was kneeling beside her armor and cleaning the plates with a small scrap of oiled cotton. She lost no time before leaping to the subject— there was no polite banter or solemn conversation. Only a soft bow, demanded by protocol, and the curious tilt of her head. Tsukune rubbed at an imaginary speck on the smooth plate of her do. Beneath her calm demeanor, she was angry, and that was all the information he needed. "Four years."

"My lady," Hoturi bowed gracefully. "You have not yet asked me why I have come." Hoturi watched Tsukune place the enameled plate down, reaching for another and beginning the ritual of cleaning once more.

After a moment, Tsukune looked down at the armor in her hand and indicated a nearby cushion on the ground. "Rest, my Lord Hoturi-sama. You must be weary from the fighting."

"No more than you, Lady Tsukune-san." Formal titles, formal poses, as the two samurai considered their opening moves. No, thought Hoturi. Not opening moves. The true game belonged in someone else's hands. This was merely a diversion, a test before the true contest of wills. That would come when he reached Otosan Uchi, when he saw Kachiko again.

Tsukune was still speaking, and her voice drew him out of his thoughts."... to be the greatest Shiba bushi of his generation, but now he spends his time creating armor for the simplest samurai of the clan." Her voice smoothly covered the distance between them. She had not noticed his lapse. His eyes had not wandered, despite his racing thoughts.

"But you are not the simplest samurai, Lady Shiba." As he spoke, one of the heimin entered through the flap, bearing cups of rice and a warm pot of tea with two cups. She knelt on the floor just inside the tent, bowing low before placing food in front of the two samurai. "Your beauty shines as brightly as your blade. You are cherished among your clan, and we Crane are pleased to have you in our lands."

The faint reminder was enough to furrow her brow. Despite the debt he owed her for her assistance, these were Crane lands, and he was lord of the Crane.

Using the heimin's entrance as a convenient distraction, Tsukune smiled and set aside the metal plate and laces. "Ah, the food." Tsukune was not a courtier but a bushi, and her movements lacked the simple grace of a woman born to the highest court. With callused hands, she poured tea into the two small cups. The heimin bowed and backed through the tent flaps, her eyes lowered to the floor. With no such humility, Tsukune caught Hoturi's gaze and offered him one of the steaming cups. "Your land is bountiful, Crane Lord," she smiled, "but your heimin are frightened."

Lifting the tea to sip, Hoturi responded, "They know that the Lion may return."

"And they'll be murdered if you aren't here to defend them."

"That stone has not been turned."

Tsukune smiled, curiosity in her eyes. "Yet you are concerned enough to dress as a ronin in order to sneak to the emperor's city?"

Damn the woman, but she was still clever. "My journey is a secret, my lady." Let the cunning of the Phoenix be their own trap.

"Secrets?" Tsukune set down her tea and lifted her chopsticks. "I thought secrets were for Scorpions."

Allowing the jibe to pass, Hoturi took a long swallow of the tea. "There are no more Scorpions, Tsukune-san. Someone must carry their burden." Tsukune nodded in approval, and her smile grew. Hoturi continued, "And their burden leads me to Otosan Uchi, as you have already guessed."