L5r - scroll 03 - The Crane (19 page)

Yoshi whispered behind Hoturi, "All is well. We should proceed. Tadaji is to meet you in the gardens. You will not be missed here for some time, and the empress will not arrive until a moment before the contest."

Nodding, the Crane Champion entered the tournament grounds with his retinue. Beyond the fighting ground, he passed alone into the palace gardens.

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The gardens were empty except for one man. Ide Tadaji waited on a stone bench, a strange look of sorrow on his face. Hoturi approach and exchanged pleasantries, but he instinctively sensed that something was terribly wrong with the Unicorn.

"Her gracious lady has yet to grant me an audience," Hoturi began. Whatever was troubling his friend would come out in its own time. After all, Tadaji had requested the meeting. "I hope she decides to see me soon. Grave business requires my attention elsewhere."

"I had heard that a Lion army was headed for Crane lands...." Tadaji said.

Hoturi nodded and reviewed the basic strengths of the Crane, from their Phoenix allies at Kyuden Kakita to the possibility of southern snows. Hoping to draw out his interest and encourage a smile from the gentle Ide, Hoturi played to the man's clan pride. "I tell you this because you are my friend, and you are a Unicorn whom the Crane trust. Many of our samurai are dead or dying from the plague. The heimin have fled to the countryside. Villages have been destroyed by plague and pillaging Lion. Kyuden Kakita is guarded by only a tiny army, less than a third of what is needed against the Lion near Sayo Castle."

Tadaji's face lightened with realization of the trust being placed in him. Friendship began to overcome nervousness. Tadaji nodded briefly, as if trying to organize his chaotic thoughts. "The Lion are that strong?"

"Ten thousand and more."

Tadaji paused, considering "And when you arrived, you discovered that it was not the emperor but Kachiko you must deal with." The Unicorn shifted on the uncomfortable stone bench, wrapping his lame leg about the body of his cane.

In some ways, Tadaji had much in common with Shizue, Hoturi thought, remembering his sister's shifting walk. Perhaps that was why Hoturi had liked him from the beginning. Both had overcome their defective births to follow the path of their Tao. The thought made him smile. Then, also thinking of his talented sister, he allowed the smile to fade from his features.

Hoturi nodded, speaking of emperors and politics while his heart ached. Kachiko would not see him—her game, whatever it was, still waited. Enough, he thought angrily. "I have men in Otosan Uchi—Daidoji soldiers. They are anxious to return, and it is unwise to leave Kyuden Kakita undefended for so long."

Tadaji stared earnestly into the younger man's worried face. "Of all the clans of Rokugan, the Unicorn know the fear and desperation of standing alone in a fight. Seek an alliance with the Unicorn Clan, Hoturi-sama. We too stand against the storm of war that rumbles in the darkening sky. I can speak to Shinjo Yokatsu. He will agree to a meeting with the Crane if I request it."

"An alliance with the Unicorn," Hoturi said softly. Looking at Tadaji and letting real hope shine in his face, Hoturi bowed toward the ambassador to thank him. "I can think of no other clan I would rather trust at my side in these uncertain times."

May the Fortunes bless you, Yoshi-san, Hoturi thought. Your advice has brought allies to our cause. Your advice, and this good man's friendship.

Someone approached down the path, a thick-bodied man in a deep scarlet gi. His was a familiar stride, the sound and carriage of other days. Beneath a silk mask lurked a blackened face and the pale brown eyes of an assassin.

Hoturi touched his hand warningly to the hilt of his

katana. Every nerve in his body strained to kill.

The man was Bayushi Aramoro, Kachiko's brother-in-law and an enemy to the Crane.

Tadaji grasped the handle of his cane in dislike.

"Honorable Doji Hoturi-sama," Aramoro said, his voice oiled and slick. "Empress Kachiko requests that you do her and the emperor honor by attending her in the royal chambers in one hour."

"Please tell the lady that it is I who will be honored to appear at her request." Watching the tournament from the empress's private balcony could prove the opportunity he needed. Kachiko knew well that their conversation would go unheard from that vantage, yet she must also know that they would be watched from the courtyard below.

Aramoro bowed silently, his hands never leaving his sides.

Hoturi watched him, aware that a single movement could send them both to their deaths. Of all the samurai of the fallen Scorpion, this one was the most dangerous. The most dangerous, Hoturi corrected himself as the man began to leave, other than his mistress.

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Eight bushi still stood on the emperor's tournament field, eight samurai in gleaming hakima and gi, their clans' mon embroidered in glittering thread. The last duelists included two Lion, one Unicorn, one Crab, two Dragon, a member of the Fox Clan, and one Crane.

Toshimoko still stood, Hoturi noted with relief as the heimin guided him along the interconnected balconies. The imperial viewing chambers were directly above, in perfect position to see each strike and parry of the shining katana.

The next two opponents were called forth by Seppun Hake, the master of ceremonies. "Matsu Mori, son of Matsu

Agetoki, come forward and hail the throne. Mirumoto Hit-omi, daimyo of the Mirumoto, come forward and hail the throne." The man's voice was as spindly as his raised arms, which flapped in the breeze like winter branches. He snorted a cone of mist into the wintry air.

The two samurai stepped onto the tournament field. They bowed toward the emperor's balcony, some ten feet above them. Then—far more shallowly—they bowed toward each other.

On the balcony, the mon of the imperial family waved in a faint breeze. Golden chrysanthemums decorated intricately carved wooden rails. Two cushions provided a commanding view of the entire battlefield and each dais below, but one of the pillows was empty. The emperor, too ill to attend the gathering, had sent his blessing. And his wife.

Hoturi gazed across the balcony and bowed formally.

Reclining on the golden pillows, Kachiko gazed at the duels with a careful eye. Her rich kimono shone despite the relative shadow of the balcony's cloth sunshades.

Hoturi rose from his bow, uncertain if she had seen him.

A servant knelt before him, touching her head to the ground. This was no heimin, but a very young woman of noble house, servant to the imperial family. She had probably not even passed her gempuku, and she bore the mon of the Crane.

"I am Kakita Kaori, Master Hoturi-sama, servant to the Imperial Court and fostered to the care of Seppun Kossori. It is my honor to direct you to Her Imperial Majesty. She bids you meet with her and tell her of the battle, that the emperor will be well informed of each technique on the field of honor."

Clever Kachiko, Hoturi thought as he nodded. With such an excuse, he could stay on the balcony indefinitely—and he would be seen as serving the emperor. Very clever.

The attendant stepped to the side, motioning Hoturi forward. Beyond her skirted kimono, Kachiko rested, stirring the breeze with a waving fan. Though the day was cold, the habit seemed to be her way of passing time.

Hoturi paused to watch her for a moment before bowing again. "My lady Kachiko-sama," he murmured once they were alone.

"Hoturi, thank you for attending me," she smiled. Her reddened lips curved gently as her fan slowed in the air. Without looking in his direction, she indicated the pillow beside her own. "Rest, Lord Champion. The tournament reaches its height." As she spoke, her silken kimono slid gracefully across an outstretched arm, sheathing the pale skin in scarlet and gold.

Below the balcony stood Aramoro, his arms lowered at his sides and his legs spread as if to leap over the rail to defend his lady.

Noting the staunch guardian so much on edge, Hoturi chanced a faint grin.

Kachiko caught the implication and raised an elegant brow. "My lord, you do me much honor in attending my summons. Tournaments such as these often grow boring to a lady. Your observations are of much interest to me." Her voice was soft music, the delicate tones of a biwa.

"It will be difficult to turn my thoughts to blades when my eyes are caught by brighter stars."

She hid her smile behind the fan. "Look there, Hoturi, if you can draw your eyes away for a moment." She pointed toward the tournament ground.

Two samurai took their stances. The Dragon woman crouched low, her hands covered by the long sleeves of her haori vest. Her opponent leaned forward in an aggressive Matsu stance.

A shout pierced the still air, and the two opponents drew in a single arching strike. Their blades chimed against one another. The bright flash shone in the winter sunlight as they moved, shifting their balance. Within another breath, it was finished. The Lion fell to the ground. Blood began to stain the man's kimono, spreading crimson against the bright orange of the Lion Clan.

"She injured him?" Hoturi was shocked.

"She has yet to gain full control of her capabilities." Kachiko's artfully placed fingers were only inches from Hoturi's own. "She fought with the Crab in Beiden Pass, only a few days ago. Just before she came to Otosan Uchi."

"Days ... ?" Hoturi laughed softly. "You had her brought here for the tournament."

"Perhaps it should be seen more as pity to a wounded samurai in great need of allies. You have not looked very closely, Hoturi-sama." She leaned forward to whisper in his ear, and her warm breath brought shivers to the young man's spine. "Look again."

The field was clearing as the Lion's men came to carry him from the ground. Blood from his wound stained the soil beneath Mirumoto Hitomi's feet. She watched impassively as he was taken away. Suddenly Hoturi saw what lay beneath her long sleeves. Her right hand shone of stone and glass, the flesh changed to cold rock.

"Shinsei's blood," he swore.

Kachiko leaned back, laughter rippling from her pale throat.

"A gift from you, I expect."

"A gift from the emperor, of course. Little Hitomi was injured at the battle with the Crab, her hand severed by a Hida. What else was I to do for a loyal samurai of my husband's empire?"

"Where did you find it? What is it?" Hoturi shifted on his cushion, allowing a trailing lock of hair to brush against his hand.

She pretended not to notice. Silver bells tinkled from her obi, their echo as compelling as her laughter in the air. "It is Shosuro's Hand, an artifact of the fallen Scorpion." Beneath the bitterness of her clan's destruction, lay the pride of hard-earned triumph.

"Lost in the labyrinths of the Bayushi, beyond remembrance. You have my admiration, Empress, on your treasure-finding skills."

She laughed again, and placed her fan on the ground, delicately brushing his fingers with its sandalwood spine.

On the field, two more opponents were called, but Toshimoko was not among them. Again, the pause, the strike, and the blazing speed of master samurai. Before Hoturi could draw a breath, the last Unicorn in the tournament had fallen to his opponent's blade. This time, there was no blood. The strike was clean, and the duelist withdrew his blade before injuring the Shinjo. The applause that had been lacking after Hitomi's duel danced delicately through the crowd.

Hoturi struggled to stay focused on his task, on the tournament, on anything except the burning in his chest. After more than a decade apart, he had thought the emotions dead, fallen to three thousand days. As he looked at her, the jeweled amber eyes smiling down from behind her delicate lace mask, he knew it could never be so. There had been others since Kachiko, nameless and faceless save his wife, but nothing in the empire touched him as did her smile.

Kachiko lowered her chin. Her voice sank, becoming timid with grief. "You are staring, Lord Champion."

" I am blinded by the sun." The old compliment came easily to his lips, remembered by his heart more than his mind. For .1 second, he saw not an empress on silken pillows, but a maiden whose dark foxtail of hair cascaded across the green grass of a summer day. Forgotten laughter came to her eyes, and her lips curved into a maiden's blushing kiss.

As if reading his thoughts, she turned away. "I have grown old, Hoturi. I am not the girl you once loved."

"I never loved a girl, Kachiko. I loved you, for all you were. And I love you for all you have become. You have beaten them."

"Have I?" Her regal robes stiffened. A faint breeze shivered through the balcony. The tinkling of silver bells seemed almost somber, a temple's call to evening.

On the field, Bake screamed out another call to the samurai, but Hoturi did not hear it. "Your people have died, but you live. With me, you can be granted all that you have lost."

"Hoturi..." She nestled closer to him. Her fingertips slid down the length of the fan to brush against his. "I asked you to meet me because I have found something. Something very important." It was impossible to think with her eyes staring into his, her body so near. Silk rustled as she moved. He longed to carry her from the balcony. Her breasts moved softly beneath the thin fabric of her kimono, and she raised her fan to cover her lips from inquiring eyes. "I have no clan to turn to and no family to help me.... I need you to meet with me, tonight, in my chamber. I found something else in the labyrinth where my family had hidden Shosuro's Hand. I believe it can help us both...."