Chasing the Wind
Chapter 10
Spring, 1235 - Shiro Sano Kakita
Harun was silent more a long time, trying to find the words to express what had happened. He could feel his emotion rising, overcoming him. He took a long sip of tea and a few deep breaths.
“My apologies, sensei,” said Harun. “This part of what happened, it’s difficult to talk about. I’m not doing much credit to all the court training we were given.”
Kenshin nodded silently.
Harun cleared his throat, took another sip of tea and continued.
“We rode west for most of the day, following the river,” said Harun. “There were just the three of us, and a few guards.”
“Was there still threat from the Onyx?” Kenshin asked.
Harun shook his head. “Not really, but there weren’t not about to risk everything when we were so close.” He took another sip of tea. “The Unicorn had been making aids all winter, in preparation for pushing on further west in the spring. But it would all be for nothing if Majid and Zetsubou failed…”
Winter, 1235 - Unicorn Lands
They arrived at the place as the sun was setting, Harun could see the light fading across the endless plains. Harun stood there a moment, enjoying the atmosphere. At least, until Majid told him to stop dawdling and help set up the camp.
Between them and the guards there were four yurts. Two for the people and two for the horses Zetsubou helped them set them up before going down to river while Majid and Harun saw to the food. Rice as well as chicken skewers cooked over the fire with flatbread and hummus. When it was ready they all sat down sat around the fire, eating what they could which wasn’t much. The guards spoke, but for Majid, Harun and Zetsubou tension hanging over them was palpable and there was little talk.
When it too cold to remain outside, Harun and Zetsubou went into the yurt and Majid went to see to the horses. Harun pulled his cloak close around him, sitting close to the porcelain brazier next to Zetsubou who was deep in thought.
“Harun,” said Zetsubou at last, “I’ve wanted to tell you for some time how grateful I am to have you here.”
“Thank you, Zetsubou,” said Harun.
“I think you know by now how much danger we could be in,” said Zetsubou.
“Danger of failing?” Harun asked.
“No, I don’t think we will fail,” said Zetsubou, shaking his head. “The danger is to us, or rather to Majid and myself.” He looked at Harun. “It’s hard to explain, but you need to be ready to act.”
“To do what, Zetsubou?” Harun asked, a little worried.
“To kill me,” Zetsubou said quietly.
Harun looked at Zetsubou in shock. “Surely…”
“Harun,” said Zetsubou seriously, “Majid and I have discussed this many times once we knew what we needed to do. We aren’t talking about a blood sacrifice, this isn’t blood magic. But strange things do happen during powerful magic rituals. I might…not be myself, something might happen to me.” He looked at Harun solemnly. “I need you to promise me you will kill me before that happens…”
“Zetsubou—“
“Harun, promise me!”
Harun bowed his head. “I promise.”
“Thank you,” said Zetsubou with a nod. “There is one more thing that I need to say to you, in the event of my death—“
“Zetsubou!”
“In the event of my death,” Zetsubou repeated patiently, “I have prepared papers back in my tent for you to carry out. My instructions are clear. I also want you to go and see my brother, Akodo Kibo in Shiro sano Ken Haya in Lion Lands. He will need friends and I know it will help him to see you.”
Harun felt a little sick talking to Zetsubou about this, plans for his death. But a samurai must always be ready for his death.
“I promise,” Harun said. “What about your family?”
“Majid will see to that,” Zetsubou said quietly. “We have known each other for years, since the second seal. It will be better coming from him.”
Harun nodded gravely. “I hope that neither of us have to do any of this.”
“So do I,” said Zetsubou. “But as Akodo-no-kami said, we all must be ready for our deaths.”
The evening might have been pretty dour had Majid not returned then and livened things up. They passed around some sake, played shogi—Majid even gave Harun a quick lesson. Majid then got out a set of pipes and began to play, a lilting airy tune that was rather soothing.
Afterwards, when Majid was asleep. Harun and Zetsubou sat at the tent door watching the snow fall, they were rugged up warm and the porcelain heater was that their backs. Zetsubou was silent, pensive.
“Harun,” Zetsubou said after a long silence, “is it true that you are considering staying here in Unicorn lands? Perhaps becoming a Unicorn yourself?”
“It is, or rather was,” said Harun.
“Was? You have decided to leave?”
“Not exactly,” said Harun. He told Zetsubou the whole story, delicately skipping over the parts with Asuna and hoping that Zetsubou understood what he was implying.
“Harun,” Zetsubou said when he had finished. “Have I told you what you mother wanted out of her life? What drove her?”
Harun shook his head.
“There were many things,” Zetsubou said. “She wanted the happiness of a family that had been taken from her, wanted to return home, to the steppes of the Unicorn plains…but she gave all those up those after you were born for a different purpose, so that you and others could have those things…and others.” He looked at Harun. “Something tells me that you are looking for a purpose, is this true?”
Harun nodded.
“Have you found it yet?” Zetsubou asked, his lion eyes shining with understanding and kindness.
“No,” said Harun, “I am starting to wonder if I ever will.”
“Your purpose may end up finding you, Harun,” said Zetsubou. “And it may not be something that you like.”
Harun nodded, staying nothing, staring out at the snow.
They retired to bed after that, getting a few hours of sleep and then rising several hours before the dawn. Harun dressed warmly in his wool and fur cloak, Majid and Zetsubou in their shugenja robes. Zetsubou in yellow and brown, Majid in white with black void mons on his shoulders with the colourful beaded necklace and rings he always wore. He also painted his face white, with black on his mouth, cheeks and around his eyes.
The last time Harun saw Majid like this, it was before the attack on Shiro Moto.
We prepare out bodies for death, he had said at the time. He met Majid’s eyes, the Moto nodded seriously.
It was time.
They headed out of the camp and down to the river, the guards had been instructed to keep their distance.
The Firefly River was a ribbon of silver in the early morning twilight. Just beside it was a torii archway and in front of that, further up on the riverbank were a few stones piled high into a small column.
It’s a shrine, Harun realised, but he saw nothing to signify who it was to.
Majid went up to the stone platform and begun to lay out a few things while Zetsubou went down to the archway. Not sure what to do, Harun went over to Majid. The Moto was laying out spell scrolls, but also there was a small round box in white jade, inlaid with crystal and ivory and engraved with symbols of the elements. Harun wondered what that was, but Majid and Zetsubou seemed to be busy so he waited.
“All is ready,” said Majid to himself, he then turned to see Zetsubou coming towards them. “Well?”
Zetsubou nodded. “We can begin,” he said.
“Good,” said Majid with a nod. “There is just one more thing.” He turned to Harun. “I’ll need your amulet.”
Harun looked questioning at him.
“It’s for your protection,” said Majid. “Trust me.”
He reached inside his clothing for the amethyst talisman. Karasu had given it to him last spring. Given to him for safekeeping by his mother, given to her by Zetsubou. Engraved on it were the mons of the Crab and Unicorn clans. He looped it over his head and handed it to Majid.
Majid held it in one hand and muttered a few words, moving his hands. Then he handed it back to Harun.
“It’s a meishodo now,” Majid said. “It will protect you if you need it.”
He put it back on, concealing it beneath his clothing, the seriousness in Majid’s voice was worrying. Zetsubou was far more reassuring.
“Harun, what we are going to do now is open a door into Yomi, to the realm of the blessed ancestors,” he said. “You will hear and see things, the shryo, the souls of the ancestors, we will petition to help us cleanse the lands.”
“This,” said Majid, indicating the jade box, “is how we hope to succeed. It took me years to create it. Inside is the light of Tengoku, which is what will cleanse the land.”
Harun nodded. “Will it work?”
Majid and Zetsubou exchanged a concerned glance.
“We have hope,” said Zetsubou.
They all stood in front of the platform, Zetsubou in the middle and Harun and Majid either side. Zetsubou took up a spell scroll and began to read it, saying the words to open the door into Yomi.
“Blessed Ancestors, we seek your wise guidance,” he said. “Come among us, so that we may hear your wisdom.”
A soft, warm wind began to blow and Harun thought he could smell…fresh grass was it. Fresh grass, like spring. Beneath the spans of the torii arch, a gentle light began to appear. Then, with a bright burst of light, they could see through the arch to another place. Full of light, and green, with the sound of the wind through grass and of birds singing.
Majid and Harun helped Zetsubou to a sitting position, his back against the stone pillar. The Akodo’s face was deep in concentration as he opened the portal. From the archway, there was a flicker of light. Majid looked over at it.
“Someone has come through,” he said to Harun.
They heard a voice, coming like birdsong on a breeze, bursting with joy and love.
“Harun, my son!”
Harun looked up, a short figure was coming—no running—towards him. His features a blur of light and colour, not identifiable, but Harun thought he knew.
“Father?”
The shryo smiled, his features coming into focus. He was short, shorter than Harun. He wore a kimono patterned with blue and purple circles. He had a beard, small and fine compared to Harun’s. But what Harun noticed most of all were his, not just shining with the joy of seeing him, Harun recognised them as his own.
“I’ve waited so long,” said Nakura. He reached forward, but his hands passed right through Harun’s. “To see you, to speak with you…oh my son.” He laughed, looking Harun up and down. “You sure take after your mother’s people, but we only ever talked about having girls.” He grinned. “And nothing about you being a Crane.”
“Father, I…” Harun was choked up with emotion. He never imagined this would ever happen, at least, not while he was still alive. What does one say to the spirit of one’s dead father?”
Someone else emerged from the archway. A woman. She wore the lamellar armour as was worn by the samurai at the dawn of the empire, but she had no daisho, instead carrying a spear wearing the conical hat of an ashigaru.
“What’s all this, Nakura?” she asked impatiently. “This can all wait, there’s work to be done.” She then turned to Harun. “And I think I know who you are. If your mother had followed my advice, you wouldn’t be here.”
Harun almost laughed, which somehow seemed very inappropriate. He had an idea who she was, but Majid certainly knew. He went into a deep bow and motioned for Harun to do the same.
“Hikahime-no-fortune,” said Majid solemnly. “We are honoured by your presence and aid in this sacred task.”
“Never mind that,” Hikahime said, dismissing their formalities. “We know why you are here, we all do.”
“All?” Harun repeated.
Some more shryo emerged from the archway. A wild-looking, bearded Moto clad in leather and fur; a young Crane woman who carried a splendid daisho, and wore the robes of a kenshinzen; and finally some true Kitsu.
The Kitsu looked most strange. they was covered in golden fur, yet wore armour like a samurai. They had the face, mane, paws and claws of a lion, yet they walked upright like a man and carried a spear.
Harun took a quick look back at Zetsubou for his reaction. There was a lot of strain on his face as he clearly was in a lot of pain from keeping the portal, but he did look pleased and even a little surprised.
More came out, many, many more. Some wearing the same lamellar armour Hikahime wore. They crowded out of the torii arch, standing around before them with many more behind them. Their spirit forms emitting soft light. The Blessed Ancestors of Yomi, all there to provide aid.
One of the Kitsu approached them. Majid and Harun bowed low.
“Honoured Kitsu and shryo of the Blessed Guard,” said Majid, his voice solemn and clear. “We petition you to aid us to gain Tengoku’s Favour once more. We wish to cleanse the land of the taint and restore harmony.” He bowed again, holding the small jade box in his hands. “We offer this, made of all that is pure and sacred that will serve as a means to heal the lands.”
The Kitsu was silent for a long moment, then nodded. “This acceptable,” he said, his deep and growling. “But know this as well: this is but a first step in restoring the harmony between Tengoku and Ningen-do. For this to be finished, more must be done. All of the kami must return home, the line of Hantei must be reconciled with the line of Iweko, and there must be balance between the Dragons of Jade and Obsidian.” He looked between Harun and Majid. “All of this must happen, and it must happen in its own time. Do you understand this?”
Harun and Majid nodded. Zetsubou made a movement that could have been a nod.
Before anyone could say anything more, Nakura immediately stepped forward. “Harun, you can’t stay here,” said Nakura. “I know out here you are pulled towards the life your mother and I wanted for you, but there is much for you to do, my son.”
“I understand, father,” said Harun.
“You better,” said Hikahime from somewhere behind him. “How are you going to fight for the Legion way out here? How are you going to take Toshi Ranbo?”
The Kitsu turned and looked at the rising sun. “It is time,” he said. “The offering must be made.”
Majid nodded and motioned for Harun to stand beside Zetsubou. The atmosphere grew tense, that was enough for Harun to realise that now came the danger. He looked down at Zetsubou, he was pale, sweat was pouring down him, obviously in a lot of pain to keep the door open. But when Majid looked his way, Zetsubou nodded to proceed.
Majid held out the jade box with one hand, with his other he touched each of the rings on his fingers and each of the colourful beads of the necklace he wore.
The very air grew thick and seemed to twist and ripple before Harun’s eyes. Harun’s vision blurred, he began to feel heavy and lightheaded, as if he were about to faint. The jade box in Majid’s hand began to shine with soft light.
The shryo, the Kitsu, knelt down where they stood and bowed their heads in prayer. Behind them, Harun could see rows and rows kneeling down. He remained standing, ready, so did Majid and Kitsu in front of him. He began to speak.
“Yomi has always stood to guide the mortals of Ningen-Do and to protect Tengoku from the taint of Jigoku,” he said, leading them in prayer. “Now, we lend our strength for Tengoku’s light to cleanse the land.”
The box shined even more brightly, almost blindingly so. The Kitsu reached out, and took it. There came a great burst of tiny white lights from the box, like a thousand shooting stars rising up from the box and flying up high over their heads.
Then Zetsubou screamed in pain, his shrieks akin to an animal in a fire, a lost soul in torment.
“It’s the Void!” Majid shouted to Harun. “His body, it can’t take the energy needed to complete the ritual. Harun, you have to…”
I promised him, thought Harun, unsheathing his katana. He raised it above his head before he struck down Zetsubou, giving him mercy from the pain.
But Zetsubou held out a hand, his screams subsided but he was clearly in pain.
“What’s going on?” Harun asked Majid.
“The poor fool,” Majid said. “He has to finish it, we can’t stop it.”
Harun took a quick look towards the portal. The shryo were still kneeling and praying, the tiny stars rising from the box and then falling like silver rain from the sky.
Zetsubou gave another cry, this one much quieter and far more heartbreaking. He was in pain, probably dying. Was the ritual finished? Would the land be cleansed?
Harun looked at Majid. Majid nodded. Harun raised his katana again, ready to do his duty.
“No!” shouted the Kitsu, his voice like thunder. He lunged forward and grabbed Zetsubou’s shoulder. “You have served well, brother, but your duty is now at an end. Rest now.” The Kitsu grabbed Zetsubou’s hand, pulling him forward so hard that Zetsubou was slumped face down his red hair brilliant against the white of the snow. And pulled Zetsubou’s spirit from his body.
“Zetsubou!” Harun dropped his katana rushed over to him. Kneeling beside him, grabbing him, turning him over, shaking him. Zetsubou’s eyes were closed as if he was sleeping, he looked peaceful, without pain. “No, no!”
“Harun!”
He looked up. Zetsubou was standing there, above his own body that was lying in Harun’s arms.
“No, it can’t happen,” pleased Harun.
Zetsubou smiled sadly. “We all knew it would end like this. Even your mother. Even you.”
He then turned to join the skyro who welcomed him among their number. Then little by little, after bowing and acknowledging Harun and Majid, they started to fade away.
Tears flowed down Harun’s cheeks. This was not supposed to happen. Zetsubou was so good, so kind. He had a wife, children, a home they were all happy in.
“Harun.”
He looked up again. It was his father, smiling down at him with pride. He put a hand on Harun’s shoulder, and for the briefest of moments, Harun felt his father’s touch. “The sun is rising, we can’t stay. I am proud of you, my son. You have honour that I never had in my life.”
“You honour me, father,” said Harun through his tears. There was so much more he wanted to say, but there wasn’t time. “Will I see you again?”
“Nakura nodded. “There is much before that, Harun, that you must do. Good thing you have your mother’s courage.”
“Father!” He reached out as Nakura’s spirit faded away with the rising sun. He closed his eyes, trying to quell the anguish in his heart.
Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was warm, it was alive.
“This is how he wanted it, Harun,” said Majid. “And this is how it must be.”
“But…” Harun’s voice broke with emotion.
“Yes, I know,” said Majid. “But us, the living, we must carry on.”
They broke camp and left the same day, making steady progress towards Shiro Moto. The mood was sombre. Harun rode in the lead, Majid behind him leading Zetsubou’s horse, riderless. Zetsubou’s body had been secured safely in one of the ox carts, wrapped in blankets.
Snow started to fall and an icy wind picked up as they rode west, which didn’t help the mood. Harun was grateful when Shiro Moto came in sight.
As they proceeded through the camp, the riderless horse did not go unnoticed. A few people questioned them, but they didn’t stop, not until they reached the guest camp. A few people came out to meet them when they arrived, Kousuda, Kouta, Hokori. But they stopped, shocked.
Kousuda looked stricken. “Harun, is it…”
Harun nodded gravely.
Majid carried Zetsubou’s body to the yurt that the Lion delegation shared. Ikoma Sesuke, his yojimbo, came out, his face grave. He bowed his head as Zetsubou was carried past.
Kousuda started to walk towards him, but Harun rode off. He couldn’t face anyone, not tonight.
Harun passed a fretful night with little sleep. And when he did sleep, his dreams were troubled. He saw Zetsubou, sprawled out on the snow, lifeless. He saw Majid, his black and white face paint looking terrifying in the dawn light. And he saw his father, his face vanishing before Harun’s eyes.
He woke with the grey dawn and dressed, pulling the hood of his cloak over heads head when he went outside into the whirling snow. Fighting through the icy wind, he sought shelter within the walls of the shiro.
Inside the walls there was a little less wind, but there were few people about that day. The few that were heading for the tenshukaku or the tea house.
Then he saw a lamp, a circle of light in the whirling snow. It was Gimu the monk, he looked indifferent to the weather, heading into the shrine as if it were any other day.
Hikahime…he looked up to see name written on nobori flags outside the shrine, fluttering furiously in the wind.
Harun went in. Inside, Gimu was making tea on a small brazier. He looked up.
“Ah, Kakita-sama, will you join me?”
“I don’t mean to intrude, Gimu-san,” said Harun.
“Nonsense, the weather is called and your presence is no intrusion,” said the monk.
“Then I will join you,” said Harun, sitting on the bare stone next to Gimu. The warmth of the brazier felt good. So did the tea which Gimu gave to him in plain earthenware cups. Strong and robust, like the Moto made it.
“I’m worried that there’s something wrong, drinking tea inside a shrine,” said Harun.
“If it was, this one doubts that she would mind,” said Gimu, nodding to the scroll of Hikahime hanging on the wall above the prayer sticks.
Harun managed a small smile, remembering what she had said to him. How are you going to fight for the Legion way out here? she had said. How are you going to take Toshi Ranbo? Such big pronouncements, he hardly felt equal to them.
“Did you know her, Gimu-san?” Harun asked, then remembered that such questions to a monk were rather impertinent. “My apologies, it’s just that…I met her yesterday, just before Zetsubou died.”
“No apologies are needed, Kakita-sama,” said Gimu. “This one has known someone who has met her.” He smiled wistfully. “Knew her very well, he did.” He cleared his throat. “Tell me what happened.”
Harun told the monk everything, far more than he had intended. But it felt good to talk about it. Made it more real and easier to deal with.
Gimu listened patiently, filling Harun’s cup up. “That is quite a tale, Kakita-sama,” he said. “You came here on one wind, it appears that you will leave on another.”
Harun nodded, sipping his tea. “It seems right, now, to leave,” he said. “I think I needed to hear it, but I didn’t think it would come from the shryo of my father.” He looked down into his cup. “I could have belonged out here, far away from everything.”
“Duty,” said Gimu with a nod. “Duty is, not chosen. And sometimes in a way we don’t like.”
“Zetsubou said that,” said Harun with a sad smile. “His duty…” He choked up…”
“He knew his duty, Kakita-sama,” said Gimu. “And now you know yours, you would do the same no doubt.”
Harun nodded, it was instilled in every samurai. To be an instrument of your lord’s will, to be ready to die.
“Fighting with the legion,” said Gimu, looking at Hikahime’s picture. “You will do well, Kakita-sama. She knew best.”
Gimu’s words were a balm to Harun. He found he could look forward, as Zetsubou would have wanted. The weather broke, grew miler. Harun was able to go riding with Majid. They didn’t speak much, the silence served as solace to both of them.
As the weather grew milder, the thaws began. And with the thaws came the first new shoots of spring green. Harun smiled through his tears. They had succeeded, the lands had been cleaned and Zetsubou’s death had not been in vain. The Kitsune and Morishita between them made the garden inside the shiro courtyard grow with maple trees, fir and a cherry blossom.
It would not be long until they left now, court was winding up. He had managed to talk with Kousuda and Kouta about the ritual, but they were busy finalising the treaties with the Unicorn and Crane and had little time.
“Come around on the last night,” Kousuda said. “We can talk before we leave.”
There were a few things to be attended to before that. He went to the Utaku camp and asked after Asuna. When he arrived, he was told she wasn’t there.
Harun sighed, he should have expected this.
“Please convey my good wishes for her future,” said Harun. “And my apologies. I treated her badly, she deserves much better. And give her this.” He gave the Utaku a small sprig of maple, taken from the new tree.
Maple for great blessings, Harun thought as he walked away, sometimes the Crane know how to say difficult things without words.
He turned to look back just before he was out of sight. He could see her, peering out of one of the yurts. They met eyes for a brief moment, he made a slight bow towards her and then walked away.
The next morning a low mist hung over Shiro Moto, Harun was on his way to the dojo when he saw something that caused him to stop. Gimu, coming out of the walls of the Shiro, holding a lamp. On his other side he was supporting someone. Tall, bearded, and with a limp.
Chinua, Harun realised. Should he approach?
Moto Tengri came out, leading Chinua’s horse. He and Gimu helped Chinua to mount. They talked, no longer than a moment, then Gimu and Tengri bowed low.
“Kuirichitai,” said Majid’s voice. He came to stand beside Harun. “The last ride.”
Chinua rode off, disappearing into the morning mist. He did not look back.
The last days of court brought a lot of last minute activity. Packing to be done, farewells to be said. Last kumis passed around and dances around the fire.
Harun knew he had to leave, but he was sorry to.
One day, he promised himself, I will bring Arahime out here. She had as much Unicorn blood as I do, she will understand.
One who was not leaving, and was quite happy not to be was Yukari. Now Moto Yukari, she would be joining the Khol alongside her husband and stepdaughter.
“So, it’s going to be you rides to conquer the Unicorn lands,” Harun teased.
Yukari gave him a friendly punch on the arm. She had fully embraced wearing the bare-armed leather tunics of the Moto and had tied her hair back in many braids. “As long as I get to ride and fight and drink kumis,” she said. “You’re an idiot for not staying, must have been that father of yours.”
“Well, it was the Crane one at least,” said Harun.
“You’re a damn fool for leaving, Harun,” she said. “But you’re as stubborn as your mother, so I will miss having you around.”
Isanko and Janisha came to Harun’s yurt for tea. The girl was enthralled to finally be inside one, and listened intently as Harun told the story of the ritual. And of Zetsubou’s death.
“I liked him,” she said simply. “He was kind to me, and had kind eyes.”
Janisha had one more thing to reveal about Harun’s father Nakura.
“There was something else that he promised, but he never managed to do,” she said. “Kitsune Mori was destroyed by the Kaiu during the war. Nakura made a vow before the entire Imperial Court that he would devote his retirement to its recovery and see that his heirs did as well.”
“And that’s me,” said Harun. “That is, if I have any heirs or live to see retirement.”
“You are the last of your bloodline, Harun,” said Janisha. “You need to make sure that happens.”
When Isanko and Janisha left, Harun promised Isanko that he would write and visit when he could. And again, he marvelled that one day that that nine year old girl would one day be Empress of Rokugan.
Perhaps another story for those heirs I don’t have yet, he thought.
On the last evening Harun went over to the guest camp, walking past the Lion yurt where he knew Zetsubou’s body was. He entered the Crane yurt where Kousuda received him.
“Harun, it was good of you to come,” said Kousuda, shaking hands warmly. “I must apologise, the end of any court is always a rush to get things done.”
“No need, oji-san,” said Harun. “We all have our duty.”
“Indeed,” agreed Kousuda, noting Harun’s seriousness.
They sat down, Kousuda provided generous but simple fare. Miso soup, yakitori chicken skewers, steamed nikumun buns filled with miso-flavoured rice. And finally, tea and daifuku.
“I thought you would have wanted to have meat on the last night,” said Harun.
Kousuda chuckled. “I got a supply of jerky that should tide me over for a while, but don’t tell anyone. Did you manage to try some at all?”
“Yes, at Yukari’s wedding,” said Harun. “It seems so silly now, such a small thing after what has happened.” He looked into his cup. “I suppose you know now what has happened.”
Kousuda nodded gravely. “Majid told me, he said you were with Zetsubou,” he said. “That must have been difficult, Harun.”
“I was spared from…doing it myself,” said Harun. “Zetsubou had asked me, but I think was better.” He took a sip of tea. “He asked me to go to Lion lands. Take his body, see his brother.”
“Majid also said that you saw Hikahime-no-fortune and your father Nakura,” said Kousuda.
“Yes,” said Harun. “I didn’t expect that at all, it seems so strange…people have told me about him, but to meet him myself…”
“Treasure it, Harun,” said Kousuda. “But don’t let it hold you back.”
“I won’t, oji-san,” said Harun. “And yes, I did see Hikahime-no-fortune. You knew her, didn’t you?”
“I did,” said Kousuda with a nod. “And I am very happy you have as well. I worked with her at the Winter Court at Shiro Mirumoto. So did your mother, Doji Arami-sama and Zetsubou’s brother Akodo Kibo. They drafted the treaties that secured the Shogunate and the Last Legion, what became the Emerald Legions.”
“The Shogunate?” Harun asked. “You mean, Akodo Kano?”
Kousuda nodded.
“But why?” Harun asked, incredulously.
“Politics,” answered Kousuda simply. “You understand what it was like then, Harun. It was a time of chaos and famine. The Onyx had taken much of the empire but there were those who had risen up to strike back. One of those was Akodo Kano, the other was the Last Legion. It’s unthinkable now that anything like this could happen, but the thing is they already had. We were fighting for our own survival, and so many were starving. So we had to use the tools we were given. That meant compromise, and that meant Kano.”
“Did you know then what could happen?” Harun said. “That Kano would rebel?”
“We knew it was a distinct possibility,” said Kousuda. “But again, we needed him and had to support him to get the Legion legitimised. Your mother spent a long night with Hikahime, putting all sorts of restrictions of what Kano could and couldn’t do. And to further safeguard things we, or rather your mother, put forward Karasu’s name to be Emerald Champion.”
“He told me about that,” said Harun. “It was the day after my father was killed, but she still stood in front of the whole court and put his name forward.”
Kousuda nodded. “She also saved Hikahime’s life, I supposed she didn’t tell you that when you saw her yourself.”
Harun shook his head.
“There was some sort of incident with the Onyx, one of their yojimbo had tried to assassinate the Jade Champion,” Kousuda said. “Hikahime just happened to be there and saved the Jade Champion’s life, killing the assassin. Then she was on trial because she killed him with a katana.” Kousuda took a sip of tea and then continued. “I remember, your mother was frantic, if Hikahime died there was a fair chance that the Legion would rebel. She eventually got us into the trial, before the Emperor himself.”
Harun’s eyebrows shot up. “Before the Emperor? How?”
“Through Chinua, I think,” Kousuda said. “But when we were there, we hardly had to say anything at all. Lord Mirumoto Shikei, he was Champion of the Dragon Clan then, basically said everything we had come to much better and with far more authority. So we just let him and sat there watching the show. Between Lord Shikei and the treaty, which had backdated the Legion to always being Imperial, Hikahime was set free.” He gave a small smile. “Yamada had never been to a court before, the Utaku avoid the courts. Yet with her as delegation head, we accomplished all our goals. She saw to her duties to the Unicorn clan, and to you…but she lost everything she gained for herself.”
“Zetsubou told me that she wanted to return home,” Harun said. “Now that I have been here, I understand why.”
“I do hope,” said Kousuda sadly, “that one day, when it is all over with Michio and the Black Hand, that she will.”
Before he left the guest camp, Harun went in to the Lion yurt. Zetsubou was lying on a futon, wrapped up with a blanket, his eyes closed and his face peaceful as if he were sleeping.
Majid was also there.
“I thought I might find you here,” said Harun. “I guess this is where we part?”
“Not yet, not that easily,” said Majid. “You will see me at Shiro sano Ken Haya, no dount the Lion will turn out in force for the funeral of one of their heroes.”
Harun looked down at Zetsubou’s peaceful face. “I hope so, his sacrifice shouldn’t be forgotten.”
“We will remember,” said Majid. “And we can make sure that Zetsubou is not forgotten, by telling everyone about him. How he lived, how he died. Then they will know too and can tell others.”
“Zetsubou would not have liked that,” Harun said slyly.
“Well, we can’t always get what we want,” said Majid. “And we certainly can’t control how we are remembered.” He handed Harun a satchel full of letters. “Better for you to do that than me, I’m going to look very out of place in Lion lands. Not, that that won’t stop meeting you there.”
And so the next day, when the sky was clear and the first signs of grass were beginning to appear through the snow, Harun left Unicorn lands. He travelled with Ikoma Sesuke, the Lion riding in the ox cart where Zetsubou’s body was secured.
They went east, following the river. At Sesuke’s request, they stopped at the place where Zetsubou had died. The torii arch and stone platform were still sanding. It was perfectly peaceful with no sign at all of what had happened there.
The next day they continued on, crossing the river near Kaeru Toshi and entering the lands of the Lion Clan.
Chapter 10
Spring, 1235 - Shiro Sano Kakita
Harun was silent more a long time, trying to find the words to express what had happened. He could feel his emotion rising, overcoming him. He took a long sip of tea and a few deep breaths.
“My apologies, sensei,” said Harun. “This part of what happened, it’s difficult to talk about. I’m not doing much credit to all the court training we were given.”
Kenshin nodded silently.
Harun cleared his throat, took another sip of tea and continued.
“We rode west for most of the day, following the river,” said Harun. “There were just the three of us, and a few guards.”
“Was there still threat from the Onyx?” Kenshin asked.
Harun shook his head. “Not really, but there weren’t not about to risk everything when we were so close.” He took another sip of tea. “The Unicorn had been making aids all winter, in preparation for pushing on further west in the spring. But it would all be for nothing if Majid and Zetsubou failed…”
Winter, 1235 - Unicorn Lands
They arrived at the place as the sun was setting, Harun could see the light fading across the endless plains. Harun stood there a moment, enjoying the atmosphere. At least, until Majid told him to stop dawdling and help set up the camp.
Between them and the guards there were four yurts. Two for the people and two for the horses Zetsubou helped them set them up before going down to river while Majid and Harun saw to the food. Rice as well as chicken skewers cooked over the fire with flatbread and hummus. When it was ready they all sat down sat around the fire, eating what they could which wasn’t much. The guards spoke, but for Majid, Harun and Zetsubou tension hanging over them was palpable and there was little talk.
When it too cold to remain outside, Harun and Zetsubou went into the yurt and Majid went to see to the horses. Harun pulled his cloak close around him, sitting close to the porcelain brazier next to Zetsubou who was deep in thought.
“Harun,” said Zetsubou at last, “I’ve wanted to tell you for some time how grateful I am to have you here.”
“Thank you, Zetsubou,” said Harun.
“I think you know by now how much danger we could be in,” said Zetsubou.
“Danger of failing?” Harun asked.
“No, I don’t think we will fail,” said Zetsubou, shaking his head. “The danger is to us, or rather to Majid and myself.” He looked at Harun. “It’s hard to explain, but you need to be ready to act.”
“To do what, Zetsubou?” Harun asked, a little worried.
“To kill me,” Zetsubou said quietly.
Harun looked at Zetsubou in shock. “Surely…”
“Harun,” said Zetsubou seriously, “Majid and I have discussed this many times once we knew what we needed to do. We aren’t talking about a blood sacrifice, this isn’t blood magic. But strange things do happen during powerful magic rituals. I might…not be myself, something might happen to me.” He looked at Harun solemnly. “I need you to promise me you will kill me before that happens…”
“Zetsubou—“
“Harun, promise me!”
Harun bowed his head. “I promise.”
“Thank you,” said Zetsubou with a nod. “There is one more thing that I need to say to you, in the event of my death—“
“Zetsubou!”
“In the event of my death,” Zetsubou repeated patiently, “I have prepared papers back in my tent for you to carry out. My instructions are clear. I also want you to go and see my brother, Akodo Kibo in Shiro sano Ken Haya in Lion Lands. He will need friends and I know it will help him to see you.”
Harun felt a little sick talking to Zetsubou about this, plans for his death. But a samurai must always be ready for his death.
“I promise,” Harun said. “What about your family?”
“Majid will see to that,” Zetsubou said quietly. “We have known each other for years, since the second seal. It will be better coming from him.”
Harun nodded gravely. “I hope that neither of us have to do any of this.”
“So do I,” said Zetsubou. “But as Akodo-no-kami said, we all must be ready for our deaths.”
The evening might have been pretty dour had Majid not returned then and livened things up. They passed around some sake, played shogi—Majid even gave Harun a quick lesson. Majid then got out a set of pipes and began to play, a lilting airy tune that was rather soothing.
Afterwards, when Majid was asleep. Harun and Zetsubou sat at the tent door watching the snow fall, they were rugged up warm and the porcelain heater was that their backs. Zetsubou was silent, pensive.
“Harun,” Zetsubou said after a long silence, “is it true that you are considering staying here in Unicorn lands? Perhaps becoming a Unicorn yourself?”
“It is, or rather was,” said Harun.
“Was? You have decided to leave?”
“Not exactly,” said Harun. He told Zetsubou the whole story, delicately skipping over the parts with Asuna and hoping that Zetsubou understood what he was implying.
“Harun,” Zetsubou said when he had finished. “Have I told you what you mother wanted out of her life? What drove her?”
Harun shook his head.
“There were many things,” Zetsubou said. “She wanted the happiness of a family that had been taken from her, wanted to return home, to the steppes of the Unicorn plains…but she gave all those up those after you were born for a different purpose, so that you and others could have those things…and others.” He looked at Harun. “Something tells me that you are looking for a purpose, is this true?”
Harun nodded.
“Have you found it yet?” Zetsubou asked, his lion eyes shining with understanding and kindness.
“No,” said Harun, “I am starting to wonder if I ever will.”
“Your purpose may end up finding you, Harun,” said Zetsubou. “And it may not be something that you like.”
Harun nodded, staying nothing, staring out at the snow.
They retired to bed after that, getting a few hours of sleep and then rising several hours before the dawn. Harun dressed warmly in his wool and fur cloak, Majid and Zetsubou in their shugenja robes. Zetsubou in yellow and brown, Majid in white with black void mons on his shoulders with the colourful beaded necklace and rings he always wore. He also painted his face white, with black on his mouth, cheeks and around his eyes.
The last time Harun saw Majid like this, it was before the attack on Shiro Moto.
We prepare out bodies for death, he had said at the time. He met Majid’s eyes, the Moto nodded seriously.
It was time.
They headed out of the camp and down to the river, the guards had been instructed to keep their distance.
The Firefly River was a ribbon of silver in the early morning twilight. Just beside it was a torii archway and in front of that, further up on the riverbank were a few stones piled high into a small column.
It’s a shrine, Harun realised, but he saw nothing to signify who it was to.
Majid went up to the stone platform and begun to lay out a few things while Zetsubou went down to the archway. Not sure what to do, Harun went over to Majid. The Moto was laying out spell scrolls, but also there was a small round box in white jade, inlaid with crystal and ivory and engraved with symbols of the elements. Harun wondered what that was, but Majid and Zetsubou seemed to be busy so he waited.
“All is ready,” said Majid to himself, he then turned to see Zetsubou coming towards them. “Well?”
Zetsubou nodded. “We can begin,” he said.
“Good,” said Majid with a nod. “There is just one more thing.” He turned to Harun. “I’ll need your amulet.”
Harun looked questioning at him.
“It’s for your protection,” said Majid. “Trust me.”
He reached inside his clothing for the amethyst talisman. Karasu had given it to him last spring. Given to him for safekeeping by his mother, given to her by Zetsubou. Engraved on it were the mons of the Crab and Unicorn clans. He looped it over his head and handed it to Majid.
Majid held it in one hand and muttered a few words, moving his hands. Then he handed it back to Harun.
“It’s a meishodo now,” Majid said. “It will protect you if you need it.”
He put it back on, concealing it beneath his clothing, the seriousness in Majid’s voice was worrying. Zetsubou was far more reassuring.
“Harun, what we are going to do now is open a door into Yomi, to the realm of the blessed ancestors,” he said. “You will hear and see things, the shryo, the souls of the ancestors, we will petition to help us cleanse the lands.”
“This,” said Majid, indicating the jade box, “is how we hope to succeed. It took me years to create it. Inside is the light of Tengoku, which is what will cleanse the land.”
Harun nodded. “Will it work?”
Majid and Zetsubou exchanged a concerned glance.
“We have hope,” said Zetsubou.
They all stood in front of the platform, Zetsubou in the middle and Harun and Majid either side. Zetsubou took up a spell scroll and began to read it, saying the words to open the door into Yomi.
“Blessed Ancestors, we seek your wise guidance,” he said. “Come among us, so that we may hear your wisdom.”
A soft, warm wind began to blow and Harun thought he could smell…fresh grass was it. Fresh grass, like spring. Beneath the spans of the torii arch, a gentle light began to appear. Then, with a bright burst of light, they could see through the arch to another place. Full of light, and green, with the sound of the wind through grass and of birds singing.
Majid and Harun helped Zetsubou to a sitting position, his back against the stone pillar. The Akodo’s face was deep in concentration as he opened the portal. From the archway, there was a flicker of light. Majid looked over at it.
“Someone has come through,” he said to Harun.
They heard a voice, coming like birdsong on a breeze, bursting with joy and love.
“Harun, my son!”
Harun looked up, a short figure was coming—no running—towards him. His features a blur of light and colour, not identifiable, but Harun thought he knew.
“Father?”
The shryo smiled, his features coming into focus. He was short, shorter than Harun. He wore a kimono patterned with blue and purple circles. He had a beard, small and fine compared to Harun’s. But what Harun noticed most of all were his, not just shining with the joy of seeing him, Harun recognised them as his own.
“I’ve waited so long,” said Nakura. He reached forward, but his hands passed right through Harun’s. “To see you, to speak with you…oh my son.” He laughed, looking Harun up and down. “You sure take after your mother’s people, but we only ever talked about having girls.” He grinned. “And nothing about you being a Crane.”
“Father, I…” Harun was choked up with emotion. He never imagined this would ever happen, at least, not while he was still alive. What does one say to the spirit of one’s dead father?”
Someone else emerged from the archway. A woman. She wore the lamellar armour as was worn by the samurai at the dawn of the empire, but she had no daisho, instead carrying a spear wearing the conical hat of an ashigaru.
“What’s all this, Nakura?” she asked impatiently. “This can all wait, there’s work to be done.” She then turned to Harun. “And I think I know who you are. If your mother had followed my advice, you wouldn’t be here.”
Harun almost laughed, which somehow seemed very inappropriate. He had an idea who she was, but Majid certainly knew. He went into a deep bow and motioned for Harun to do the same.
“Hikahime-no-fortune,” said Majid solemnly. “We are honoured by your presence and aid in this sacred task.”
“Never mind that,” Hikahime said, dismissing their formalities. “We know why you are here, we all do.”
“All?” Harun repeated.
Some more shryo emerged from the archway. A wild-looking, bearded Moto clad in leather and fur; a young Crane woman who carried a splendid daisho, and wore the robes of a kenshinzen; and finally some true Kitsu.
The Kitsu looked most strange. they was covered in golden fur, yet wore armour like a samurai. They had the face, mane, paws and claws of a lion, yet they walked upright like a man and carried a spear.
Harun took a quick look back at Zetsubou for his reaction. There was a lot of strain on his face as he clearly was in a lot of pain from keeping the portal, but he did look pleased and even a little surprised.
More came out, many, many more. Some wearing the same lamellar armour Hikahime wore. They crowded out of the torii arch, standing around before them with many more behind them. Their spirit forms emitting soft light. The Blessed Ancestors of Yomi, all there to provide aid.
One of the Kitsu approached them. Majid and Harun bowed low.
“Honoured Kitsu and shryo of the Blessed Guard,” said Majid, his voice solemn and clear. “We petition you to aid us to gain Tengoku’s Favour once more. We wish to cleanse the land of the taint and restore harmony.” He bowed again, holding the small jade box in his hands. “We offer this, made of all that is pure and sacred that will serve as a means to heal the lands.”
The Kitsu was silent for a long moment, then nodded. “This acceptable,” he said, his deep and growling. “But know this as well: this is but a first step in restoring the harmony between Tengoku and Ningen-do. For this to be finished, more must be done. All of the kami must return home, the line of Hantei must be reconciled with the line of Iweko, and there must be balance between the Dragons of Jade and Obsidian.” He looked between Harun and Majid. “All of this must happen, and it must happen in its own time. Do you understand this?”
Harun and Majid nodded. Zetsubou made a movement that could have been a nod.
Before anyone could say anything more, Nakura immediately stepped forward. “Harun, you can’t stay here,” said Nakura. “I know out here you are pulled towards the life your mother and I wanted for you, but there is much for you to do, my son.”
“I understand, father,” said Harun.
“You better,” said Hikahime from somewhere behind him. “How are you going to fight for the Legion way out here? How are you going to take Toshi Ranbo?”
The Kitsu turned and looked at the rising sun. “It is time,” he said. “The offering must be made.”
Majid nodded and motioned for Harun to stand beside Zetsubou. The atmosphere grew tense, that was enough for Harun to realise that now came the danger. He looked down at Zetsubou, he was pale, sweat was pouring down him, obviously in a lot of pain to keep the door open. But when Majid looked his way, Zetsubou nodded to proceed.
Majid held out the jade box with one hand, with his other he touched each of the rings on his fingers and each of the colourful beads of the necklace he wore.
The very air grew thick and seemed to twist and ripple before Harun’s eyes. Harun’s vision blurred, he began to feel heavy and lightheaded, as if he were about to faint. The jade box in Majid’s hand began to shine with soft light.
The shryo, the Kitsu, knelt down where they stood and bowed their heads in prayer. Behind them, Harun could see rows and rows kneeling down. He remained standing, ready, so did Majid and Kitsu in front of him. He began to speak.
“Yomi has always stood to guide the mortals of Ningen-Do and to protect Tengoku from the taint of Jigoku,” he said, leading them in prayer. “Now, we lend our strength for Tengoku’s light to cleanse the land.”
The box shined even more brightly, almost blindingly so. The Kitsu reached out, and took it. There came a great burst of tiny white lights from the box, like a thousand shooting stars rising up from the box and flying up high over their heads.
Then Zetsubou screamed in pain, his shrieks akin to an animal in a fire, a lost soul in torment.
“It’s the Void!” Majid shouted to Harun. “His body, it can’t take the energy needed to complete the ritual. Harun, you have to…”
I promised him, thought Harun, unsheathing his katana. He raised it above his head before he struck down Zetsubou, giving him mercy from the pain.
But Zetsubou held out a hand, his screams subsided but he was clearly in pain.
“What’s going on?” Harun asked Majid.
“The poor fool,” Majid said. “He has to finish it, we can’t stop it.”
Harun took a quick look towards the portal. The shryo were still kneeling and praying, the tiny stars rising from the box and then falling like silver rain from the sky.
Zetsubou gave another cry, this one much quieter and far more heartbreaking. He was in pain, probably dying. Was the ritual finished? Would the land be cleansed?
Harun looked at Majid. Majid nodded. Harun raised his katana again, ready to do his duty.
“No!” shouted the Kitsu, his voice like thunder. He lunged forward and grabbed Zetsubou’s shoulder. “You have served well, brother, but your duty is now at an end. Rest now.” The Kitsu grabbed Zetsubou’s hand, pulling him forward so hard that Zetsubou was slumped face down his red hair brilliant against the white of the snow. And pulled Zetsubou’s spirit from his body.
“Zetsubou!” Harun dropped his katana rushed over to him. Kneeling beside him, grabbing him, turning him over, shaking him. Zetsubou’s eyes were closed as if he was sleeping, he looked peaceful, without pain. “No, no!”
“Harun!”
He looked up. Zetsubou was standing there, above his own body that was lying in Harun’s arms.
“No, it can’t happen,” pleased Harun.
Zetsubou smiled sadly. “We all knew it would end like this. Even your mother. Even you.”
He then turned to join the skyro who welcomed him among their number. Then little by little, after bowing and acknowledging Harun and Majid, they started to fade away.
Tears flowed down Harun’s cheeks. This was not supposed to happen. Zetsubou was so good, so kind. He had a wife, children, a home they were all happy in.
“Harun.”
He looked up again. It was his father, smiling down at him with pride. He put a hand on Harun’s shoulder, and for the briefest of moments, Harun felt his father’s touch. “The sun is rising, we can’t stay. I am proud of you, my son. You have honour that I never had in my life.”
“You honour me, father,” said Harun through his tears. There was so much more he wanted to say, but there wasn’t time. “Will I see you again?”
“Nakura nodded. “There is much before that, Harun, that you must do. Good thing you have your mother’s courage.”
“Father!” He reached out as Nakura’s spirit faded away with the rising sun. He closed his eyes, trying to quell the anguish in his heart.
Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was warm, it was alive.
“This is how he wanted it, Harun,” said Majid. “And this is how it must be.”
“But…” Harun’s voice broke with emotion.
“Yes, I know,” said Majid. “But us, the living, we must carry on.”
They broke camp and left the same day, making steady progress towards Shiro Moto. The mood was sombre. Harun rode in the lead, Majid behind him leading Zetsubou’s horse, riderless. Zetsubou’s body had been secured safely in one of the ox carts, wrapped in blankets.
Snow started to fall and an icy wind picked up as they rode west, which didn’t help the mood. Harun was grateful when Shiro Moto came in sight.
As they proceeded through the camp, the riderless horse did not go unnoticed. A few people questioned them, but they didn’t stop, not until they reached the guest camp. A few people came out to meet them when they arrived, Kousuda, Kouta, Hokori. But they stopped, shocked.
Kousuda looked stricken. “Harun, is it…”
Harun nodded gravely.
Majid carried Zetsubou’s body to the yurt that the Lion delegation shared. Ikoma Sesuke, his yojimbo, came out, his face grave. He bowed his head as Zetsubou was carried past.
Kousuda started to walk towards him, but Harun rode off. He couldn’t face anyone, not tonight.
Harun passed a fretful night with little sleep. And when he did sleep, his dreams were troubled. He saw Zetsubou, sprawled out on the snow, lifeless. He saw Majid, his black and white face paint looking terrifying in the dawn light. And he saw his father, his face vanishing before Harun’s eyes.
He woke with the grey dawn and dressed, pulling the hood of his cloak over heads head when he went outside into the whirling snow. Fighting through the icy wind, he sought shelter within the walls of the shiro.
Inside the walls there was a little less wind, but there were few people about that day. The few that were heading for the tenshukaku or the tea house.
Then he saw a lamp, a circle of light in the whirling snow. It was Gimu the monk, he looked indifferent to the weather, heading into the shrine as if it were any other day.
Hikahime…he looked up to see name written on nobori flags outside the shrine, fluttering furiously in the wind.
Harun went in. Inside, Gimu was making tea on a small brazier. He looked up.
“Ah, Kakita-sama, will you join me?”
“I don’t mean to intrude, Gimu-san,” said Harun.
“Nonsense, the weather is called and your presence is no intrusion,” said the monk.
“Then I will join you,” said Harun, sitting on the bare stone next to Gimu. The warmth of the brazier felt good. So did the tea which Gimu gave to him in plain earthenware cups. Strong and robust, like the Moto made it.
“I’m worried that there’s something wrong, drinking tea inside a shrine,” said Harun.
“If it was, this one doubts that she would mind,” said Gimu, nodding to the scroll of Hikahime hanging on the wall above the prayer sticks.
Harun managed a small smile, remembering what she had said to him. How are you going to fight for the Legion way out here? she had said. How are you going to take Toshi Ranbo? Such big pronouncements, he hardly felt equal to them.
“Did you know her, Gimu-san?” Harun asked, then remembered that such questions to a monk were rather impertinent. “My apologies, it’s just that…I met her yesterday, just before Zetsubou died.”
“No apologies are needed, Kakita-sama,” said Gimu. “This one has known someone who has met her.” He smiled wistfully. “Knew her very well, he did.” He cleared his throat. “Tell me what happened.”
Harun told the monk everything, far more than he had intended. But it felt good to talk about it. Made it more real and easier to deal with.
Gimu listened patiently, filling Harun’s cup up. “That is quite a tale, Kakita-sama,” he said. “You came here on one wind, it appears that you will leave on another.”
Harun nodded, sipping his tea. “It seems right, now, to leave,” he said. “I think I needed to hear it, but I didn’t think it would come from the shryo of my father.” He looked down into his cup. “I could have belonged out here, far away from everything.”
“Duty,” said Gimu with a nod. “Duty is, not chosen. And sometimes in a way we don’t like.”
“Zetsubou said that,” said Harun with a sad smile. “His duty…” He choked up…”
“He knew his duty, Kakita-sama,” said Gimu. “And now you know yours, you would do the same no doubt.”
Harun nodded, it was instilled in every samurai. To be an instrument of your lord’s will, to be ready to die.
“Fighting with the legion,” said Gimu, looking at Hikahime’s picture. “You will do well, Kakita-sama. She knew best.”
Gimu’s words were a balm to Harun. He found he could look forward, as Zetsubou would have wanted. The weather broke, grew miler. Harun was able to go riding with Majid. They didn’t speak much, the silence served as solace to both of them.
As the weather grew milder, the thaws began. And with the thaws came the first new shoots of spring green. Harun smiled through his tears. They had succeeded, the lands had been cleaned and Zetsubou’s death had not been in vain. The Kitsune and Morishita between them made the garden inside the shiro courtyard grow with maple trees, fir and a cherry blossom.
It would not be long until they left now, court was winding up. He had managed to talk with Kousuda and Kouta about the ritual, but they were busy finalising the treaties with the Unicorn and Crane and had little time.
“Come around on the last night,” Kousuda said. “We can talk before we leave.”
There were a few things to be attended to before that. He went to the Utaku camp and asked after Asuna. When he arrived, he was told she wasn’t there.
Harun sighed, he should have expected this.
“Please convey my good wishes for her future,” said Harun. “And my apologies. I treated her badly, she deserves much better. And give her this.” He gave the Utaku a small sprig of maple, taken from the new tree.
Maple for great blessings, Harun thought as he walked away, sometimes the Crane know how to say difficult things without words.
He turned to look back just before he was out of sight. He could see her, peering out of one of the yurts. They met eyes for a brief moment, he made a slight bow towards her and then walked away.
The next morning a low mist hung over Shiro Moto, Harun was on his way to the dojo when he saw something that caused him to stop. Gimu, coming out of the walls of the Shiro, holding a lamp. On his other side he was supporting someone. Tall, bearded, and with a limp.
Chinua, Harun realised. Should he approach?
Moto Tengri came out, leading Chinua’s horse. He and Gimu helped Chinua to mount. They talked, no longer than a moment, then Gimu and Tengri bowed low.
“Kuirichitai,” said Majid’s voice. He came to stand beside Harun. “The last ride.”
Chinua rode off, disappearing into the morning mist. He did not look back.
The last days of court brought a lot of last minute activity. Packing to be done, farewells to be said. Last kumis passed around and dances around the fire.
Harun knew he had to leave, but he was sorry to.
One day, he promised himself, I will bring Arahime out here. She had as much Unicorn blood as I do, she will understand.
One who was not leaving, and was quite happy not to be was Yukari. Now Moto Yukari, she would be joining the Khol alongside her husband and stepdaughter.
“So, it’s going to be you rides to conquer the Unicorn lands,” Harun teased.
Yukari gave him a friendly punch on the arm. She had fully embraced wearing the bare-armed leather tunics of the Moto and had tied her hair back in many braids. “As long as I get to ride and fight and drink kumis,” she said. “You’re an idiot for not staying, must have been that father of yours.”
“Well, it was the Crane one at least,” said Harun.
“You’re a damn fool for leaving, Harun,” she said. “But you’re as stubborn as your mother, so I will miss having you around.”
Isanko and Janisha came to Harun’s yurt for tea. The girl was enthralled to finally be inside one, and listened intently as Harun told the story of the ritual. And of Zetsubou’s death.
“I liked him,” she said simply. “He was kind to me, and had kind eyes.”
Janisha had one more thing to reveal about Harun’s father Nakura.
“There was something else that he promised, but he never managed to do,” she said. “Kitsune Mori was destroyed by the Kaiu during the war. Nakura made a vow before the entire Imperial Court that he would devote his retirement to its recovery and see that his heirs did as well.”
“And that’s me,” said Harun. “That is, if I have any heirs or live to see retirement.”
“You are the last of your bloodline, Harun,” said Janisha. “You need to make sure that happens.”
When Isanko and Janisha left, Harun promised Isanko that he would write and visit when he could. And again, he marvelled that one day that that nine year old girl would one day be Empress of Rokugan.
Perhaps another story for those heirs I don’t have yet, he thought.
On the last evening Harun went over to the guest camp, walking past the Lion yurt where he knew Zetsubou’s body was. He entered the Crane yurt where Kousuda received him.
“Harun, it was good of you to come,” said Kousuda, shaking hands warmly. “I must apologise, the end of any court is always a rush to get things done.”
“No need, oji-san,” said Harun. “We all have our duty.”
“Indeed,” agreed Kousuda, noting Harun’s seriousness.
They sat down, Kousuda provided generous but simple fare. Miso soup, yakitori chicken skewers, steamed nikumun buns filled with miso-flavoured rice. And finally, tea and daifuku.
“I thought you would have wanted to have meat on the last night,” said Harun.
Kousuda chuckled. “I got a supply of jerky that should tide me over for a while, but don’t tell anyone. Did you manage to try some at all?”
“Yes, at Yukari’s wedding,” said Harun. “It seems so silly now, such a small thing after what has happened.” He looked into his cup. “I suppose you know now what has happened.”
Kousuda nodded gravely. “Majid told me, he said you were with Zetsubou,” he said. “That must have been difficult, Harun.”
“I was spared from…doing it myself,” said Harun. “Zetsubou had asked me, but I think was better.” He took a sip of tea. “He asked me to go to Lion lands. Take his body, see his brother.”
“Majid also said that you saw Hikahime-no-fortune and your father Nakura,” said Kousuda.
“Yes,” said Harun. “I didn’t expect that at all, it seems so strange…people have told me about him, but to meet him myself…”
“Treasure it, Harun,” said Kousuda. “But don’t let it hold you back.”
“I won’t, oji-san,” said Harun. “And yes, I did see Hikahime-no-fortune. You knew her, didn’t you?”
“I did,” said Kousuda with a nod. “And I am very happy you have as well. I worked with her at the Winter Court at Shiro Mirumoto. So did your mother, Doji Arami-sama and Zetsubou’s brother Akodo Kibo. They drafted the treaties that secured the Shogunate and the Last Legion, what became the Emerald Legions.”
“The Shogunate?” Harun asked. “You mean, Akodo Kano?”
Kousuda nodded.
“But why?” Harun asked, incredulously.
“Politics,” answered Kousuda simply. “You understand what it was like then, Harun. It was a time of chaos and famine. The Onyx had taken much of the empire but there were those who had risen up to strike back. One of those was Akodo Kano, the other was the Last Legion. It’s unthinkable now that anything like this could happen, but the thing is they already had. We were fighting for our own survival, and so many were starving. So we had to use the tools we were given. That meant compromise, and that meant Kano.”
“Did you know then what could happen?” Harun said. “That Kano would rebel?”
“We knew it was a distinct possibility,” said Kousuda. “But again, we needed him and had to support him to get the Legion legitimised. Your mother spent a long night with Hikahime, putting all sorts of restrictions of what Kano could and couldn’t do. And to further safeguard things we, or rather your mother, put forward Karasu’s name to be Emerald Champion.”
“He told me about that,” said Harun. “It was the day after my father was killed, but she still stood in front of the whole court and put his name forward.”
Kousuda nodded. “She also saved Hikahime’s life, I supposed she didn’t tell you that when you saw her yourself.”
Harun shook his head.
“There was some sort of incident with the Onyx, one of their yojimbo had tried to assassinate the Jade Champion,” Kousuda said. “Hikahime just happened to be there and saved the Jade Champion’s life, killing the assassin. Then she was on trial because she killed him with a katana.” Kousuda took a sip of tea and then continued. “I remember, your mother was frantic, if Hikahime died there was a fair chance that the Legion would rebel. She eventually got us into the trial, before the Emperor himself.”
Harun’s eyebrows shot up. “Before the Emperor? How?”
“Through Chinua, I think,” Kousuda said. “But when we were there, we hardly had to say anything at all. Lord Mirumoto Shikei, he was Champion of the Dragon Clan then, basically said everything we had come to much better and with far more authority. So we just let him and sat there watching the show. Between Lord Shikei and the treaty, which had backdated the Legion to always being Imperial, Hikahime was set free.” He gave a small smile. “Yamada had never been to a court before, the Utaku avoid the courts. Yet with her as delegation head, we accomplished all our goals. She saw to her duties to the Unicorn clan, and to you…but she lost everything she gained for herself.”
“Zetsubou told me that she wanted to return home,” Harun said. “Now that I have been here, I understand why.”
“I do hope,” said Kousuda sadly, “that one day, when it is all over with Michio and the Black Hand, that she will.”
Before he left the guest camp, Harun went in to the Lion yurt. Zetsubou was lying on a futon, wrapped up with a blanket, his eyes closed and his face peaceful as if he were sleeping.
Majid was also there.
“I thought I might find you here,” said Harun. “I guess this is where we part?”
“Not yet, not that easily,” said Majid. “You will see me at Shiro sano Ken Haya, no dount the Lion will turn out in force for the funeral of one of their heroes.”
Harun looked down at Zetsubou’s peaceful face. “I hope so, his sacrifice shouldn’t be forgotten.”
“We will remember,” said Majid. “And we can make sure that Zetsubou is not forgotten, by telling everyone about him. How he lived, how he died. Then they will know too and can tell others.”
“Zetsubou would not have liked that,” Harun said slyly.
“Well, we can’t always get what we want,” said Majid. “And we certainly can’t control how we are remembered.” He handed Harun a satchel full of letters. “Better for you to do that than me, I’m going to look very out of place in Lion lands. Not, that that won’t stop meeting you there.”
And so the next day, when the sky was clear and the first signs of grass were beginning to appear through the snow, Harun left Unicorn lands. He travelled with Ikoma Sesuke, the Lion riding in the ox cart where Zetsubou’s body was secured.
They went east, following the river. At Sesuke’s request, they stopped at the place where Zetsubou had died. The torii arch and stone platform were still sanding. It was perfectly peaceful with no sign at all of what had happened there.
The next day they continued on, crossing the river near Kaeru Toshi and entering the lands of the Lion Clan.