L5r - scroll 05 - The Crab (9 page)

Though the coup had concluded three days before, Otosan Uchi still burned. Soldiers from all the clans worked to put out the flames. The aftermath was almost worse than the coup.

Bayushi Shoju was dead, slain by Akodo To-turi's own hand. The Emerald Throne—symbol of the beauty and unity of the empire—had been sundered in the fight. Most assumed it was Shoju's final act of defiance, that if he could not

rule Rokugan no one would. Others whispered that Toturi's sword had carved the cleft. Toturi declined to say exactly how the damage was done.

Whoever did the actual deed, this was a sign so powerful that even Kisada had to admit the significance. The coup was over, but the empire remained divided.

In a strange twist of fate, while the Scorpion did kill Hantei the 38th, courtiers had spirited the emperor's son away before any harm could come to him. Already Hantei the 39th had returned to the Forbidden City. On the surface, this seemed a perfect ending—the rightful heir would simply ascend to the throne, and everything would go back to the way it was. However, after Toturi had defeated Bayushi Shoju, he had declared himself the new emperor.

A samurai steeped in tradition and pride, Toturi immediately stepped aside once he learned that the heir lived. There was no question in anyone's mind that Toturi was better suited to rule than this sixteen-year-old boy, but it was a matter not of suitability. It was a matter of honor.

Right away, Hantei the 39th began showing his lack of experience and wisdom. Rather than calling for the immediate death of the usurper's wife Kachiko, he announced that he would marry the witch. Then the new emperor ordered Akodo Toturi stripped of his rank and name. The single most revered samurai in Rokugan became a ronin. Masterless and nameless, Toturi was sent to wander.

"A fine way to reward someone for giving up a throne he could have kept!" muttered Kisada.

"How sad that Toturi was so rash in his ascension," said a cool, feminine voice from behind the Great Bear.

Kisada turned.

Bayushi Kachiko, the Lady Scorpion, silently moved to his side. She wore a scarlet kimono—a vestige of her now-outlawed clan. Her hair was pulled back into an intricate knot. She wore a mask, as all Scorpions did, but hers was more natural than most. She had a delicate, vaguely butterfly-shaped lattice of crimson paint and lavender lace affixed around each eye. It made Kachiko seem as though she could see all things at once, and that was not far from the truth.

The Scorpion Clan was well known for its information network—they had spies everywhere and raised the social skills of flattery and polite gossip to art forms. No one trusted a Scorpion, yet everyone spoke to them. And the most cunning, most sweetly engaging, most subtly seductive Scorpion of all was Bayushi Kachiko.

In spite of himself, Kisada found Kachiko's presence at his elbow both distracting and welcome.

"Toturi did what was in the empire's best interest!" The Great Bear shook his head and focused on the discussion rather than Kachiko's intoxicating perfume. "He believed—we
all
believed—that Shoju slew the young Hantei. Toturi knew that the throne could not sit vacant long and, if he did not take it, a new fight would break out between the clans. He knew that
he
was the one person we would all support as the new emperor. He claimed the throne for the sake of Rokugan, not to fulfill some personal ambition."

Kachiko raised her eyebrows as if scandalized.

Another mask, thought Kisada. Kachiko changed moods to suit her situation. She could appear demure and chaste one moment and lascivious the next. Under it all she was as cold and calculating as a trained assassin.

"Of course Toturi did what he thought was best," she said and flashed a smile. "But if he was willing to make that sacrifice, he should have been willing to do what was necessary to keep the throne. Particularly from the weakling son of the former emperor."

"Th-that man is to be your husband!" Kisada could barely stammer out the words. He looked over his shoulder to see the young Hantei the 39th complaining that the cleft throne hurt his delicate behind. Kisada would have laughed if not for the dire consequences this unproven ruler spelled for the empire.

"How can you slander him so?"

Kachiko leaned very close. Whether this was so that no one could possibly overhear her or so that her soft warm body would rub against the Great Bear, Kisada would never know.

"I have done what I needed to survive," the Lady Scorpion whispered. "I have saved myself from the execution that should have been my punishment for my late husband's crimes. This does not mean that I am blind to the fact that my future husband is a weak-willed, easily manipulated litde boy."

How boldly she laid out her plan, thought Kisada. Surely she means to become the power behind the throne, pulling the boy's emotions and planting ideas in his head so that he acted at her accord. The Scorpion had won the throne after all.

"That is not what is best for Rokugan!" Kachiko continued. "Toturi would have made a better emperor. If he had decided to kill the young Hantei, or even deny his claim to the throne, who would have opposed him? Certainly not the Crab Clan."

Kisada shifted uncomfortably but said nothing.

"Clearly the empire needs a strong leader. Clearly my fianc^ is not that. What will it mean? Can things go back to the way they were when so many men of action have come within a whisker's length of claiming greatness? Somehow, I doubt it. We are doomed to live in turbulent times until someone of conviction, power, and respect claims the Emerald Throne for himself."

"Or herself," Kisada said slyly.

Kachiko looked at him with mock disbelief. "A woman on the throne?" she said. "You know that would never happen."

"Perhaps not," agreed the Great Bear, "but even a demur wife has subtle control over a dominating husband. How much more power can a calculating wife wield over a hapless husband?"

Kachiko smiled gently, as if acknowledging his point. Very few people expected such keen insights from the Crab daimyo. "True, but how much
more
power would such a woman hold if she had a
strong
husband?"

"Are you shopping for a third husband even before your second honeymoon?"

Kachiko's smile only deepened.

"I know that my husband is not well liked or respected," she said becoming deadly serious again. "Neither of these conditions is likely to change in the coming months. You are right in assuming that I want what is best for me, Kisada-sama. But you do me a grave disservice if you think that I am not also interested in the health of the empire.

"You have done me the 'honor' of being straight to the point. I will offer you the same 'courtesy.'" She clearly was unimpressed with the Great Bear's lack of subtlety. "It is only a matter of time until the new Hantei meets the same fate as his father. This time no one will have the 'unscrupulous Scorpion Clan' to blame it on. This time it will be a clan of honor, one that believes in upholding the code of bushido and strengthening the bonds of tradition—so long as it puts them in power. I say that the empire would be much better served by a man of power and military vision—an emperor who can repair the damage done by an Imperial Palace filled with bureaucrats, not warriors.

"You are such a man, if rumors are true. With the support of the empress, you could repair this divided throne."

Kisada looked away from the Lady Scorpion. He gazed again at the capital in flames. So much had gone wrong in the last week. So many twisted and weak people were vying for power. The Great Bear longed to be back at the Kaiu Wall.

Then he remembered the oni's words.

Two voices, neither trustworthy, urged him to seize power. Why would the Shadowlands and the last remaining Scorpion want him on the throne? Was it possible to turn the machinations of evil against itself? Was it possible that he indeed was the best choice to repair the recently rent Emerald Throne?

"I will think upon what you've said, Lady Kachiko. Please ask no more of me."

She honored his plea, but as the Lady Scorpion turned to walk to her young husband's side, she suppressed a triumphant grin.

AT WHAT PRICE, WAR?

1 his is like old times again, my friend!" Kisada barked in the midst of a fight atop the Wall.

Hearing a new foe, he turned and swung his tetsubo furiously at eye level. If his opponent had been human, the blow would have crushed his skull. Unfortunately, Kisada faced an ogre, head and shoulders taller than he. His blow slammed into the creature's ribs but had little effect.

"If you say so, my lord," said Hiruma Waka. "But in the old days these beasts fell much quicker!"

His no-dachi flashed through the swarm of goblins and other terrible creatures. The nearly seven feet of its blade decapitated one foe and injured four more. The no-dachi was usually a young man's weapon, requiring brawn more than brains. Waka's arms no longer had the strength they did in the days when he and Kisada raided into the Shadowlands for the sheer joy of battle, but Waka used the gigantic

sword with cunning. Whirling strokes staved off several attackers while cutting a single target into pieces.

"Time is our enemy, Waka," Kisada said.

He thrust the broad flat head of the club into the ogre's midsection, hoping to steal its breath. The ogre's stomach proved as resilient as its side. The tetsubo pushed the monster back a few steps but didn't knock the wind from its lungs.

Now, the ogre had room to swing its tree trunk-sized arms to swat the Crab daimyo off the Wall.

"That's funny," Waka muttered. He swung his no-dachi in a double circle, once over his head and once at knee level. "I thought the Shadowlands were our enemy." Three legless goblins fell screaming to the stone walkway atop the Carpenter's Wall. An ogre clutched its hands to its now-blind eyes.

"You know what I mean!" Kisada dived over the ogre's arm as it swung in a deadly arc toward his neck. He rolled up behind the ogre, leaving the creature with an almost comical look on its face as it tried to find the Great Bear. "Nothing ever changes! The Wall is the same. The battle is the same. Even the enemy is the same. For all we know, we will fight these very same creatures again after the Shadowlands sorcerers raise them into undeath.

"The only thing that changes is us! We age. Our vision fades. Our reflexes slow. Eventually we weaken to the point where we can no longer adequately defend ourselves, and we do not return from the next battle. A noble death to be sure, but then the whole work of our lives, everything we fought for, goes unfinished."

The ogre found its target and turned.

Kisada swung his tetsubo in an upward arc.

The creature set its shoulders and gritted its teeth, anticipating a strike to the chin.

Kisada st ruck between the ogre's legs.

The creature howled piteously and fell to its knees.

"What are you saying, Kisada-kun?" Waka was an old enough warrior and friend to speak to the daimyo in such a casual manner. "That you don't want to fight anymore? That you want to retire before you fall one step short? That does not sound like the Great Bear! Not at all!"

"Of course that's not what I mean!" Kisada twisted his waist all the way to the right and uncurled himself in a powerful but dangerously off-balance swing. He struck the ogre across the cheek. The mighty blow broke the creature's spine. When the ogre fell lifeless to the ground its head faced the wrong direction.

"I meant that, like you, I am beginning to think about fighting like an old man. I'm considering very carefully who the real enemy is. I could fight the creatures of the Shadowlands for the rest of my life and three lifetimes more, and I could not really protect the empire. For every monster I slay, two more will rise to take its place. This border will never be secure."

"So who would you fight? Even the Great Bear cannot have a battle without an enemy."

Kisada caught his balance and looked around. For the moment the only enemies were the goblins that ringed Waka. Kisada engaged three of them.

"My duty is to protect the empire, and Rokugan has more enemies now than ever, But the greatest threats come from
within.
It has been two years since our emperor took the Emerald Throne, and the empire is no more stable than it was the day he stripped Toturi of his name."

Two years? Had it really been two years? Kisada marveled again at how time worked against them all.

"So what?" Waka blurted. The constant barrage of foes was beginning to steal his breath. "Nothing is different—not for the Crab. Whether it is one Hantei or another, Scorpion or Lion sitting on the throne, we still must defend the border. What concern is it of yours how the emperor runs his court?"

Kisada pondered the question as he crushed the first goblin's skull. How could he tell his friend of the opportunity he'd passed up—twice? The Great Bear knew that if he had taken the Emerald Throne, the empire would not be in the weakened condition it was now.

Hantei the 39th had turned eighteen, but he had not become a man. Shortly after ascending the throne, he contracted a plague— the same plague that now ravaged the countryside, a plague for which no healer or shugenja could find a cure. Some said the illness
70 # S
tan! IE