L5r - scroll 03 - The Crane (9 page)

Hoturi nodded. "And so you fear for your own life, as I'm sure many of my guests do. I assure you, Tsuru-san, the guards have been doubled, and the assassins will not return."

Puffed up with irritated pride, Tsuru blustered, "Fear? Me? I served on the Great Wall of Kaiu. I have destroyed three oni by my own hand and slaughtered ten legions of goblins! Why should I be afraid of mere men, here in the heart of the empire?"

"Excellent," Hoturi smiled. "Then you will do us the honor of returning to our other guests and informing them that they too have nothing to fear. I am certain they will trust the word of such an esteemed member of the Crab house."

Trapped again by his pride, Tsuru paused, his face reddening. He nodded. Bowing curtly, he stood and turned on his heel. As the Doji at the door bowed and opened the sliding screens, Tsuru muttered to himself, "I will tell them all. There is nothing to fear in the lands of the Crane."

Hoturi sipped his tea again, pretending not to have heard the insult. Kuwanan's face reddened with anger. Without glancing at his lord, the Doji closed the screen once more, standing in the hallway outside the doorway.

The red clouds of morning touched the corners of the sky, filtering the first rays of the Sun Goddess down onto the earth. As the windows brightened, Kuwanan stepped forward again, allowing his anger to cool into indignation.

"How can you allow him to speak that way? To disrespect your authority?"

Hoturi's demeanor changed abruptly. The last vestiges of his control slipped away. "Kuwanan-san," he barked with such fury that his brother took an involuntary step backward. Hoturi stood, raising himself from the cushion on the dais and stepping down to be level with his brother. In the early morning light, his face seemed carved from ice, the sharp cheekbones and strong jaw perfectly highlighted by the first rays of dawn. "If you believe I have allowed that low animal to have the better of me, perhaps your loyalty to your clan is misplaced."

Kuwanan, eyes wide from Hoturi's sudden assault, regained his footing and lashed out again. "He speaks to you as through you were barely his better—as though the attack was your planning."

"No doubt that is exactly what he has been led, by the Lion, to believe."

"Then why did you not contradict it?"

"If I had, would that not have been proof of its truth?" A full five breaths passed between them before Hoturi spoke again. "Right now, Tsuru walks through the palace as if at my command, informing the guests that Kyuden Kakita has not been compromised. That alone will speak a hundred scrolls. What do you think the Phoenix and the Unicorn will believe when they see the Crab moving at my will, and despite his rough words, speaking of the safety of my house? I do not care what Tsuru believes. I care what the empire sees. What the houses of the empire believe becomes truth. The defense of our clan is not gained by convincing your enemies of your sincerity. Only of your strength."

Kuwanan glanced at the stoic Daidoji guardsmen that stood behind the dais, their faces as emotionless as stone. They had not questioned their lord, although his motives had surely been as strange to them as they had seemed to Kuwanan.

The samurai felt his face grow red with shame. "Hoturi-sama, forgive me. You are right. It is not my place to question you."

A smile wickedly spread across Doji Hoturi's lips as he placed his hand on Kuwanan's shoulder. "Kuwanan-san, if it is not your place as my brother, then it is no man's place at all."

"Hai, Hoturi-sama." The friendliness that had grown between them as brothers returned, and Kuwanan's broad face broke into a half-hearted grin.

"The Lion have taught you that wars must be fought on the battlefields. Now that you are home," Hoturi continued, walking toward his chambers for some much-needed rest, "you must learn that not all battles can be won with swords."

"Sleep well, Brother."

"Three hours," said Hoturi, watching the Crane guards slide the shoji closed as he stepped through. "No more. There will be much to do once our friend Tsuru has spread the news."

In the silent court chamber behind him, Kuwanan bowed to the closing screen. For three hours, I will guard your court and house, my brother, thought the young samurai. And then, the battlefield will be yours again, complete with enemies and dangers that even the cunning Daidoji do not yet know.

I pray we have the weapons to fight them.

the emperor's city

The final day of the Festival of the Last Harvest broke with light gray clouds and a bitter wind beneath the bright sunshine of Amat-erasu. The waving banners of the Crane still hung in the air above the tournament ground. Within the palace, fires were lit to warm the festival halls. Artisans attempted to out-do one another with their cheer and cleverness. To the sight of a casual guest, it was a magnificent end to a strikingly beautiful four-day festival.

Hoturi stood in his private chambers, the letter still crumpled in his hand. Wind blew softly through open screens, carrying the scent of blossoms not yet touched by frost. The chamber was wide, artistically arranged to suit both convenience and beauty—the perfect room for the champion of the Crane. Yet still, standing in the middle of all this perfection, Doji Hoturi was having one of the worst days of his life.

In Otosan Uchi, four Crane ambassadors had been killed. All the deaths were blamed on 'accident of coincidence.' As accidental, he supposed, as the death of Jushin at the hands of those assassins.

Hoturi walked through his room, keeping his steps as light as possible. As a youth, he had often stomped, an attempt to imitate his father's burly stride. Now he walked with purpose, deliberately keeping his motions under control. With a faint push, the balcony door slid back. The balcony was high, with a view of the gardens unmatched anywhere else in the palace. From this view, Hoturi could see the gardens, the wide fields of the Crane, and the gates of Kyuden Kakita—gates now guarded by six Daidoji soldiers, their weapons readied for battle. So different, Hoturi thought, from the merriment of only a single day ago. Leaning on the ivy-covered stones of the balcony, he watched the wind blow through the trees.

Four Crane, four honest men of standing and culture, were dead by treachery and by the Lion Clan's misplaced pride. Let them burn, Hoturi thought, crushing the carefully written parchment that had come by urgent messenger. Let all Lion burn for their arrogance and their hatred. Since the first Matsu fell before the first Kakita's blade, all Lion have hated all Crane.

It wasn't like the Lion to be so underhanded. Their typical methods included brash attacks, calls for outright war, or insipid bragging to rally their brainless troops. But now, instead of the honest Akodo that once led the clan, a Matsu of no real lineage, no honor, and less courage had claimed the throne of the Lion.

Hoturi felt sick to his stomach over all that had been lost in the coup: the lives of the Scorpion, the honor of the Lion.

Toturi, my friend. What would you think of this, if you were here to make treaties and speak of peace?

He concentrated, remembering the words of Shinsei. "If you are willing to sacrifice yourself for all things, then you can be trusted with the world," read the words of the Thousand

Year Tao. One thousand years ago, the ancient Shinsei had come down from the mountains and taught the people of Rokugan the paths of enlightenment. His words had been carried on through generations of samurai. He had taught of peace and brotherhood, and the temples raised in his name still stood across the empire. Respect among equals. Peace between brothers.

It was time for peace to end, for the Lion to know that the Crane were no longer fodder for their blades.

It was time for war.

"I trust you are finished tearing that apart?" Toshimoko bowed lightly from the chamber archway.

Hoturi raised an eyebrow, surprised to see the sensei. He had not heard Toshimoko come through the main chamber. Too tangled in my own thoughts—Hoturi chastised himself. What if the nin ja had returned? Where would he be then?

Stepping through to the balcony, Toshimoko picked a dead leaf from the thick ivy that obscured the gray stone wall. He wore his katana neatly by his side, undisturbed by death and clean of the blood that had covered it the night before.

Hoturi glanced at him. "Sensei."

"If you're finished," Toshimoko continued, "you can come inside again. It is going to rain today. Might start soon. You're wasting your energy, standing there and encouraging it."

"Four men, Toshimoko. Four men dead in Otosan Uchi, because I could not stop the assassin here."

"Four?" Toshimoko snorted, stepping back into the room and reaching for a half-empty bowl of rice. "Imagine four thousand."

"What?"

Toshimoko looked up. "Four thousand."

Before Hoturi could ask for an explanation, the guard at the door slid open the shoji screen. "My lord," the guard's boyish face was as pale as rice paper, "Daidoji Kugai-san, here to see you."

Understanding, the Crane Champion felt a great weight settle on his slim shoulders. Kugai, chui lieutenant of the scouts sent to the Osari Plains, would abandon his duty for only one reason.

The Lion had begun to march.

A look at the weary, bedraggled Daidoji who knelt outside his chamber confirmed his expectation. "Kugai -san," Hoturi said, motioning for the man to rise. "Speak."

"The armies of the Matsu gather ... to the north of Osari, my lord." The soldier's words were weary from his rapid journey. Although Kugai was a veteran of many smaller battles, his scarred brow was drawn with tension, and his brown eyes refused to look up from the lacquered wood of the apartment floor.

"How many?"

"More than ten thousand, my lord. At first count."

"And how many Daidoji stand at Osari?" Toshimoko's question was almost rhetorical.

"Four thousand, Sensei. But we have five hundred more men just three days north of here, ordered to come to Kyuden Kakita for the winter. They could be turned northward toward Osari...."

"How long until the Matsu attack?" Hoturi asked, preparing his haori vest and reaching for his swords.

"Fewer than five weeks, my champion. Sooner, if they begin to forage across the border to capture the smaller towns. Most likely, the Daidoji at the Osari Plains will see battle within two."

"How soon can Yoshi-san get an appointment with the emperor?" Hoturi asked Toshimoko.

"Four weeks. No less. For any normal man, even that would be impossible. But Yoshi-sama," Toshimoko used the higher honorific while in front of the Daidoji samurai, "always seems to do the impossible."

"Four weeks is still too long. Even if the emperor immediately grants Kakita Yoshi's request, the Lion will not hear of it until their troops have already marched through the northern fields—the villages of Gusai and Horjintu, and Sayo Castle, with all our winter reserves of grain. If they should get their hands on it," Hoturi clenched his fist with rage, pressing his hand to the low table and fighting to preserve his composure.

Toshimoko's voice was calm. "If they take Sayo Castle before the first snow, the Crane will starve through the winter, and the Lion will continue the attack in the spring. They could even launch a strike against Kyuden Kakita, if the first thaw comes early."

"Kugai-san," Hoturi commanded the kneeling Daidoji. "Rest for seven hours. Then, take forty men, and tell Daidoji Uji to go with you. If anyone can slow the Lion advance, it will be Uji."

"Fighting in the winter," Toshimoko shook his head. "The Lion are surely mad."

"A madman controls all battlefields, Sensei. Unpredictability is the gift of fortune." Hoturi's voice remained somber as he spoke.

"Kakita's words."

"And my own, Toshimoko-san." Hoturi turned again to the Daidoji warrior, "Go."

The Daidoji stood. Sharply bowing, he stepped into the hallway and was gone.

"Come with me, Toshimoko-san." Hoturi left the chamber, placing the ancient sword of the Crane in his obi and turning the hilt into a sparring position.

The corridors of the upper palace were empty of guests, although music filtered through the thin walls and heating corridors. Below, the festival was ending, and guests prepared to turn homeward to spend the winter in memories of the wonder of the Crane court.

On the Osari Plains, the Daidoji would prepare for war.

"Yoshi can speak until his delicate face turns blue, but he will not be able to change the emperor's schedule." Toshimoko said. "We do not have the men ready to fight the Lion. Our troops are lodged for winter. We've already placed them in reserve, and the snows are beginning in the far north. Changing those orders now will mean men die marching, before they ever reach the Lion."

"I can reach the emperor."

Toshimoko stopped in the middle of the hallway, hardly believing his student's confident tone. "How?"

Pacing down a long stairwell of delicately enameled paintings, Hoturi withdrew a starched letter from his vest. The letter sent by Empress Kachiko, its imperial seal still intact, lay pressed against his fingers as he strode toward the lower levels of Kyuden Kakita. "She wishes to see me."

Shocked, Toshimoko paused in the stairwell. After a hushed intake of breath, he nearly shouted. "No."