L5r - scroll 05 - The Crab (15 page)

As the last slivers of sunlight dropped behind the Wall, Kisada's thoughts plunged into darkness. He pondered again the lesson of the first Crab: You are only as strong as your weakest point; plan a strategy around that weakness, and you can never be defeated.

XXXXXXXX

Sukune awoke ten hours later, feeling rested but not refreshed. Too many things weighed on his mind and spirit. He knew the

Crab would make an inviting target. He had seen it in the delegates' eyes as he'd left. They'd watched him, the lone Crab, scuttle away. They'd mumbled and plotted and wondered if after all these years on the Wall, the clan was not standing on its last legs.

Of course, the same delegates had been asking the same questions about all the other clans. Each sought the opponent against which it had the best chance for success.

Sukune rose and straightened his kimono. It was nearly time to get his brother and return to the command tent. He remembered Yakamo's terrible defeat. He had been so worried about the impending civil war that he'd forgotten to see how his brother was dealing with his loss.

The young samurai tucked his katana and wakizashi into his belt. It was still an hour before sunrise. He could visit with Yakamo for a while before they met with their father.

Sukune walked across the compound toward Yakamo's tent. Yakamo must feel like someone asked to walk blindfolded through a familiar room—sure of the obstacles but unsure how to avoid them. The loss of his hand would require Yakamo to reexamine everything in his life. He would have to learn to see the world in a different, somewhat diminished light.

Sukune could offer his brother words of advice and encouragement. No one knew better than Sukune the pain of living with a body that could not keep up with the dictates of his mind—or the expectations of his spirit. He doubted Yakamo would want to hear such things yet, but eventually this incident could bring them closer. The brothers would finally and forever have something in common.

"Oy!" Sukune said just outside the flap to Yakamo's tent. It was a gruff greeting, one the younger Hida used only with his brother. It established that, despite their obvious physical disparity, Sukune was not going to allow Yakamo to bully him. "Yakamo-kun! I'm coming in!"

"Well then come in already!" came the answer, much more robust than Sukune had expected.

"How are you, Brother?" Sukune asked as he pushed through the flap. He halted when he saw Yakamo lifting a gigantic claw from a wooden box. Both the claw and the crate were so black they looked as though they'd been pulled half-burnt from a fire.

"What is that?"

"A claw! What does it look like?" Yakamo sneered. "And people say
you're
the smart one."

"Where did it come from?" Sukune asked, refusing to be baited. "It took our blacksmiths months to fashion my armor. How did they make this claw so quickly?" Like his brother and father, Sukune wore a suit of heavy armor when he went into battle. To compensate for his unimposing presence, he'd had the smithies forge his armor in the shape of a gigantic crab. Sukune did not merely wear the clan mon—he actually
became
a walking, fighting crab.

The claw twitched in Yakamo's hand. Though it was made of leather and iron, it moved with a life of its own. The center hinge opened and closed with a rhythmic pulse.

"By the kami!" Sukune jumped back and reached for his katana. "It is cursed!"

Yakamo laughed.

As the first rays of the sun pierced the veil of night, Sukune began to see.

"Y-you knew about this?" he asked suspiciously.

"Not at first," Yakamo chuckled. "I damn near threw the thing in the fire when it first moved. But then Kuni Yori explained to me that the claw was enchanted. That is what will make it so useful to me when I strap it on permanently. It will respond to my thoughts the way my own hand once did."

"Kuni Yori," muttered Sukune. "I should have known. That man is not to be trusted."

"Our father trusts him!" Yakamo returned. "Counsel that is good enough for our daimyo is good enough for
me\"

"Brother," Sukune said reasonably. "Even Father does not trust Yori completely. He picks and chooses when to accept or reject his twisted advice."

"True enough!" Yakamo countered. "And in this matter, Father sides with me."

"H-he agreed to this madness?" Sukune stammered in disbelief.

"Of course! This claw is my salvation!" Yakamo said proudly. He held the device aloft and marveled at it. "It is a weapon and a tool. Once it is attached, it will crush and block and do anything I ask it to, and it cannot be taken from me—ever!"

"It is an abomination!" Sukune could not believe that his brother would allow such a monstrosity to be attached to him or that his father would countenance such a thing. It was clearly wrong in every sense of the word. Had they all gone mad?

"Do you really want me to sit around and plan while others fight?" Yakamo asked boldly. "To spend the rest of my life a weakling like you?"

"Who are you to challenge your karma? Things happen for a reason, Brother. You should walk this path awhile. You may learn something from the experience. Your destiny may hinge on these lessons."

"Bah!" Yakamo spat. "Do not talk to me about destiny. It is my destiny to be the most feared warrior in all of Rokugan! And I will not allow that Dragon bitch to rob me of it!"

Sukune looked at him seriously. "Do not let pride and ambition cloud your judgment," he said quietly. "Take the clay that life gives you and make the best sculpture you can with it."

"I have taken life's opportunity! Do you think I went out looking for this thing?" The claw wriggled in Yakamo's grip, apparently displeased at being spoken of with such disregard. "No! Kuni Yori presented me with an opportunity, and I grabbed it!"

The younger Hida frowned. "Yori presented you with a temptation, and you succumbed.'"

"We are Crab!" Yakamo roared. "We fight with whatever weapons are available. We use any tactics we can think of. All that matters is that we win! We cannot lose or the empire falls!"

The claw opened and closed sharply, a soft, clacking applause punctuating Yakamo's outburst.

"Yes, but only when we stay true to our mission, Brother. We are just as capable of making mistakes as anyone else."

"Our mission is to protect the empire! Our destiny is to protect all of Rokugan from the forces of Fu Leng!"

Sunlight crept over the Wall and shone on the tent wall behind Sukune. He seemed to be enveloped by a golden halo as he shook his head ruefully.

"No man knows his own destiny," he said. "Anyone who claims otherwise is a dangerous fool."

XXXXXXXX

"It is my destiny to rale the empire!"

Sukune could not believe what his father was saying. Still, he knew better than to challenge Kisada.

The sun stood a full hand-width above the Wall, but the sky had grown overcast. Thick mists from the Shadowlands seemed to roll right through the Wall. Only faint light passed through the thick canvas of Kisada's command tent, making it hard for Sukune to see anything clearly. His father, brother, and Kuni Yori were mere silhouettes—shadow-puppets acting out a strange, unthinkable play.

"Can you explain that again?" Sukune asked. "I was so moved by your speech that—"

"Do not play etiquette games with me!" Kisada interrupted. "You think I have lost my mind, and you want to examine the root of my 'madness,' don't you?"

Sukune nodded. He saw no profit in denying his shock. His father would respect his honesty.

"Very well!" Kisada took a deep breath, preparing to launch into his reasoning again. "It is clear that Kachiko's decree was intended to have one effect—to set the clans against each other in a civil war unlike any Rokugan has ever known."

"Which apparently is already happening," said Yakamo. He clutched the stump of his left hand across his chest,
almost
managing to look casual, but Sukune knew him too well. His brother was obviously consumed with thoughts of his new "hand," and impatient to perform the required rituals to attach it permanently.

"Yes," Kisada continued. "Our clan's reputation and immobility make us a likely first target for nearly all the other clans. We must prepare to defend ourselves from attack. It will come, if not this fall, then certainly next spring."

"Hai!" said Sukune. So far he agreed with his father.

"If we must defend ourselves, and the weakest point of our defense is the fact that our army is immobile, we must choose a strategy that counters that weakness. We must not fight a defensive battle in the coming civil war—we must strike first, fast, and hardest."

This was where Sukune's support wavered. "I fail to see that as our only option," he said, hoping to lead into a more reasonable line of thinking.

Kisada burst back in. "There is another choice—to simply lay down our weapons and surrender like cowardly dogs! That is no choice! And it does the empire no good." His tone softened. "However, you are correct that we do not have to fight the other clans. Kachiko has made one mistake, and we will make her pay for it.

"In order for the clans to attack us or fight one another, they must move their armies back and forth across the empire. But the Spine of the World stands in their way. The only place it is convenient to move large numbers of troops across those mountains is Beiden Pass. If we control the pass, we can stop this war before it starts."

"A most brilliant plan, Tono," said Kuni Yori from behind the daimyo.

It seemed to Sukune as though his father and brother and the shugenja had formed a strategic alliance to deny his sensible objections. He felt like the Crab Clan itself—wanting only a sane path through these turbulent times but beset on all sides by unreasonable opponents.

"So we take and hold Beiden Pass," Sukune said slowly. "This will impress the emperor so much that he will name the Crab heirs to the Emerald Throne? Is that your plan?"

"This is not about gaining the emperor's blessing!" said Kisada. "We know that this whole directive is based on the Lady Scorpion's planning. She has no intention of allowing any clan to reach a position of power. She will find some way to make our efforts seem sinister and aggressive."

Sukune wondered how
else
the other clans ought to view the Crab leaving their positions on the Wall to seize control of Beiden Pass. It was a blatantly aggressive act.

"She will try to rally them to drive us out of the pass so that blood can spill in every corner of the empire. But we are the Crab! If we've held this wall for centuries against the inhuman onslaught of tire Shadowlands, we can hold Beiden Pass for a thousand years! By controlling the pass I will control the empire!"

Yakamo and Yori both stomped their feet and hooted loudly.

"Eventually the other clans will see that we are not fomenting war or attempting to overthrow the emperor. We are merely enforcing peace. Then they will join us, and we can remove the Lady Scorpion—and if she has poisoned his brain beyond recovery, the emperor, too. But we will do it together, as a united empire!"

Sukune still did not share his father's enthusiasm or the sense that this was the surest way to victory. He did, however, agree that with the threat of all-out civil war, this might well be the least bloody and quickest way to save the empire.

"What about the Shadowlands?" Sukune asked. "I agree that our army could hold Beiden Pass indefinitely. But even we do not have enough troops to hold both the Wall and the pass at the same time. Can we give up our centuries-long duty to hold back the forces of Fu Leng?"

"Certainly not!" Kisada snapped. "Protecting the empire from the Dark God is our
most
important duty."

Sukune was relieved to hear his father say that. He was not shirking his responsibility as Crab daimyo. He was still the levelheaded commander he had always been.

"That is why I am going to visit the oni we captured two years ago. I intend to take it up on its offer."

THE DEMON YOU KNOW

Lightning flashed in the dark gray clouds above, but no bolts flew down to earth—at least none Kisada could see. Though the autumn was warmer than usual, this wasn't heat lightning. Thunder rumbled low and resonant in the air. It felt as if the daimyo stood too close to someone pounding on a tremendous taiko drum.

As near as Kisada could tell, he and his samurai were the only living things for miles around— very strange so deep in the Shadowlands. He brought many of the same warriors who had accompanied him the last time—two years ago when they rode out to retrieve his lost tetsubo.

"Are you certain the oni is still where we left it?" The Great Bear turned in his saddle to face Kuni Yori. The shugenja rode a respectful dozen feet or so behind his daimyo.

"As I told you, Tono," Yori's words were muffled. Despite the heat, he wore the heavy hood of his black velvet robe up completely covering his face. "My spell of containment has

not been shattered. Unless the creature found a way to escape without disturbing the walls of its prison, it is there yet."

Yakamo chuckled. "Not the guarantee I was hoping for." The young Hida rode next to his father and looked back at the shugenja with open contempt. Although Yori had supplied the claw that would replace his lost hand, the shugenja had not yet completed preparations for the ritual to attach the mechanism.