L5r - scroll 03 - The Crane (22 page)

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Far away, in a quiet corner of Kyuden Kakita, three green-eyed foxes crept through an open window, seeking the source of the mournful wail that had broken the night. The palace slept, each guard walking his post without disruption, unaware of the tremors that shook the half-world between spirit and man.

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The silk cords of Kachiko's obi untangled beneath his fingers, slipping to the floor as he twisted the knots free. "You have haunted me." His breath warmed her cheek.

She smiled, hands touching the crest of his shoulders and lightly brushed his collarbone. "Ten years ago, when I turned you away, I did it for your own good. There was a secret that I held, more important even than your love."

"More?" The silk was soft, catching at the nap of his fingers as he brushed his hands against her sides. "There was nothing more important to me than you."

"Liar." She smiled. "Your duty was always more important. Even when you lay beside me, I could sense your thoughts returning to your house."

"And what of you? Married to the daimyo of the Scorpion, what future did we have?"

"Oh, my love. We had all the future in the world. We simply didn't have the time to find it. I went to the mountains of the Bayushi, and when I returned, you were married as well."

Shuddering at her touch, Hoturi closed his eyes. Ameiko's face swam before him and then was gone. "Ameiko was my father's choice, not mine. I married her to please him."

"As I married Shoju, to escape the Shosuro house." Her arms slid around him. "Do you love her, Hoturi?"

The question seemed innocent, but Hoturi was loath to answer.

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The stars hung low in a thick black sky, twinkling like the tears of the Fortunes. Silently, the foxes nudged open the shoji screens of the chamber.

Seated upon the futon was a maiden, her hair disheveled around her shoulders, spreading out in a dark cloak upon the floor. She wept, rain sliding down her cheeks. The foxes circled, their red tongues lapping at the salt water, kissing away her tears.

Do not cry, Sister, they pled. We are with you.

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"Five years ago," Kachiko whispered, her warm breath I ickling the inner lobe of Hoturi's ear, "I sought beneath the labyrinth of Kyuden Bayushi. What I found there was as ancient as the empire itself."

"Shosuro's Hand?"

"Yes."

Images of the black stone fist flashed before Hoturi, and then were driven away by Kachiko's touch. "What is the hand?" Hoturi asked, trying to assemble his thoughts. Her scent, the warmth of her body near his made him remember nights long forgotten.

"It is the hand of the first Scorpion Thunder, the ancient hero who followed the prophet Shinsei into the Shadow-lauds. Of all the Thunders, only he emerged from that dark place." The ache of the days past seemed to fade as she touched his hands to her cheek. She continued, softly, "It is one of the most powerful artifacts of the ancient days, when spirits and kami walked the land, when the power of the Celestial Heavens remained in the empire."

"And you have found something else beneath the lost palace of your clan?" Hoturi pulled her against him, heart beating like a taiko drum.

"Something even more wondrous than you can imagine, i will show it to you," she promised.

"I want you to show me a great many things." He drew away from her, wanting to see her face:

Shadowed and mysterious, her lips parted in a remembered smile. Her eyes were large and bright, the color of golden honey in a sunlit plain.

"Hoturi—" Kachiko murmured, her lips trembling, so near his.

He wondered how any other woman could possibly have replaced her. The warmth of her body burned brighter than any other fire in the land. She was the moment before sleep, when all the world was peaceful and silent and nothing could be wrong. His strength had been no more than anger. For over a decade, he had fought against the life he had been given—his father's bitter words, his lost love for Kachiko. He had been no more than a stone on a go board, unable to deny the hands that moved him.

Pulling her close, he vowed to change it all. To have her once more, to right the wrongs of his arrogance and blindness ... It was time to change the world.

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She lifted the dagger to her throat. Her mournful wail broke the silence of the spirit world.

Around her, the foxes yipped and danced, pleading with their sister. Come with us, they begged her. Come with us, and we will take you home. You were never meant to be here for so long, never meant to stay.

Tears fell to the floor. "I love him," she mourned, "And he loves me. He must."

The kitsune leaped from side to side, their fox faces twisted in sorrow and in fear.

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"Do you love her, Hoturi?" A single tear ran down Kachiko's cheek.

He caught it on the tip of his finger. "No," he admitted quietly. "Of all the women in my life, all those with whom I have shared a moment, or a night, you were always there with me when 1 fell asleep." The wind blew softly through the gauze curtains, stirring the thin sheets into motion at the corners of the room.

He lowered his head, lips just above her own as he whispered, "I have always loved you."

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The knife cut once, twice, slicing through softness and bringing light in straight, bitter lines. Darkness fell to the floor, cut free from ties and bonds.

Ameiko dropped the tanto with a grief-stricken howl. She stood, her shorn hair pooling around her feet. The knife fell with her tears, landing softly upon the torn and forgotten tresses of humanity.

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Hoturi's mouth pressed against her own, sealing his love for Kachiko in a long, tender kiss. Her hands reached to hold him. A strange fire flooded his veins, rushing to his mind with the power of intimate poison. For a moment, he believed it was no more than the return of emotion, the sensation of his heart opening to her once more.

As his eyes began to blur, though, he knew it for what it truly was. His heart shattered into a thousand shards.

Kachiko stepped back, careful not to touch her tongue to her poisoned lips.

The champion of the Crane fell to his knees. His breath shortened in dreadful gasps.

"And I love you, Lord of the Crane."

The room twisted in strange patterns. The gauze curtains became ghosts of the past. Satsume's voice echoed in Hoturi's ears. "He will never prove himself worthy," it roared in his ears. "Not to me." Hoturi could not tell if the laughter he heard was Kachiko's or his father's.

Blackness grasped his mind and dragged him beneath the waters of conscious thought.

A shoji door slid aside, and another shadow entered the room. Kneeling before his lady, Bayushi Aramoro awaited her command.

"Take him below, to the dungeon cell we have prepared." She smiled victoriously. "Let him live with the rats and snakes for a while. Let him know the blackness our clan has endured because of the Crane. When I am ready, I will come for him."

"Your performance was excellent, Kachiko-sama," Aramoro said dangerously, rising to fulfill her order. He was thinner than Hoturi, but muscular, and he easily lifted the fallen Crane. "For a moment, I almost believed you, myself." When she did not respond, he bowed slightly and left in silence.

As the screen closed, the first rumble of thunder prowled through a blackened sky. Kachiko retied the silk cord of her obi and turned back to close the open windows.

When the rain fell, she could blame it for her tears.

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On the distant fields of Kyuden Kakita, four foxes fled into the wide woodland.

Lost forever to the world of men, one turned for a last long gaze at the lights of the distant palace. For a moment, the wind ruffled her shorn hair, reminding the young kitsune of all the things that would be left behind.

That place is not yours, Sister.
One of the other foxes nuzzled away her tears and barked encouragement.
You should never have stayed as long as you did. The ways of man are not the ways of the spirits. Leave them to their own destiny: it is not for us to change the will of fate.

I loved him.

We know.

The barren branches of the forest rustled wildly in the high wind, groaning with the coming storm. Then, following the others with a single mournful howl, the kitsune vanished forever into the Crane forests, leaving behind only memories and pain.

the imperial favor

Kakita-sama? the servant kneeling in the doorway was a minor son of the samurai caste, most likely a Seppun or Otomo.

Yoshi idly wondered what he was doing in this area of the Imperial Palace. Regardless, Yoshi would finish his calligraphy before responding to a servant with such atrocious manners.

The midmorning sun slanted quietly through the window. Beside him, Shizue remained silent. Ink glided delicately onto the thin sheet of rice paper. The Crane chambers were silent as the two of them rested in tranquil study. Only the faintest sense of tension rose from the servant kneeling in the doorway.

After a few more sweeps of his brush across the paper, Yoshi spoke. "If you wish to paint a bamboo tree, Shizue-san," Yoshi placed the brush in a cup of clear water, and ink spread

blackly through the water, "you must first study the tree, be one with the tree, memorize and become every inch of the tree. Then, you must forget about the tree, and simply paint."

Bowing, the young storyteller smiled, pleased to share the dawn with her mentor.

"Yes, Seppun-san?"

The servant bowed more deeply, and Yoshi assumed he had guessed correctly.

"Forgive the intrusion, Great Lord, but the emperor has decided to honor your request for a meeting."

"Excellent."

"You must come with me now, if you please."

The implication shocked even Yoshi. "Now?"

"His Imperial Majesty feels well enough to have visitors. That condition may not last, and his health is failing. If you wish to speak with him, so sorry, you must come while he is feeling well enough to receive your presence."

Yoshi nodded. "Of course." His mind racing, Yoshi set his thoughts to the task before him. The latest word from the Crane strongholds spoke of Crab marching toward Kyuden Kakita. Daidoji assaults had slowed the Lion to the north, but the Crab continued forward unmolested, driven before Toturi s armies at Beiden Pass. Already, the battles there had been vicious. The Crab were backing away from the mouth of the valley.

Gathering his things, Yoshi stood swiftly. He motioned to his assistants to clean up the paints and brushes. The painting would have to wait. "Shizue-san," he said as he followed the servant out the door, "if Lord Hoturi comes while I am gone, please tell him to wait. This meeting with the emperor will be of great interest to him, I am certain."

"And Master Toshimoko-san?" she inquired politely, bowing in agreement.

Yoshi paused, "No. He has other duties to perform."

Shizue nodded and began to wrap the brushes in a piece of wadded cotton, placing them in their ornate box.

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The door to the emperor's chambers was guarded by a dozen armed and armored Seppun, their brown-and-gold mon shining in the weak light of the winter sun. They bowed slightly to Yoshi, recognizing the white-haired courtier as one of the emperor's most trusted advisors.

The young servant knelt before the door, pressing his forehead to the ground. Behind him, Kakita Yoshi knelt on the smooth wooden floor of the hallway, his eyes resting on his folded hands.

The servant gently moved aside the painted paper screen, touching his head to the ground once more before he spoke. "Honored Master, Lord of the Seven Hills, your servant, Kakita Yoshi-sama, has come at your command."

A faint cough came from behind the screen, and then a soft assent.

The servant bowed again and moved smoothly to the side, sliding the screen door open to reveal Yoshi.

The Crane bowed from his kneeling seiza position, touched his head to his hands, and murmured the appropriate greeting. Yoshi's motions and words were absolutely perfect. Perfection, he reminded himself, was something at which the Crane excelled. "1 thank you, Great Master, for your time."

"You are . . . welcome, my servant." The young Hantei's voice was even weaker than it had been before the tournament.

Looking up, Yoshi saw a low futon, raised six inches from the floor and covered in blankets to keep out the winter's chill. The gold pillows that surrounded it contrasted with the rich cherry of the shining floor. A blazing fire heated the chamber from a low stone fireplace in the eastern wall. Two servants prepared tea over the fireplace, keeping it warm for the emperor.

"Come here, Yoshi-sama," the Hantei said, raising one blue-veined hand to summon the Crane forward.

Rising just long enough to take four steps forward, Yoshi saw the emperor truly. Without the powder and the thick robes, his condition was all too apparent. Thin limbs barely made ridges beneath numerous blankets. The emperor's skin was pasty and white, showing blue veins beneath every inch. The sores of the plague were not apparent on the young man yet, Yoshi thought gratefully, only too aware of the plague-ravaged Crane in the south.