The Duty of War
Chapter 13
Winter, 1236 - Kuyden Hida
The next afternoon, Harun dressed carefully. Everyday he had been at Kyuden Hida he was scrutinised, but seeing the nakodo he knew this would be like nothing else he had experienced. Everything about him would be examined. Would it be enough? Would the gift he had obtained be seen worthy?
He took it out and looked at it again. It was a painting, in the traditional Crane style, showing the return of the Unicorn to Rokugan.
The Crane, they have already judged me, thought Harun angrily as he rolled the painting back up, and this is probably how they plan to be rid of me.
He closed his hand into a fist.
If they wish to know me, then let them know me…
Harun made his way through the castle to where the Crane were quartered. A servant told him the right room, but the sound of his name made him stop in the doorway.
He turned around and saw who is was. A girl of about ten years old wearing delicate grey silks with white hair in braids. The daughter of Haihime and Daigotsu Kanpeki’s granddaughter.
“Isanko-chan,” said Harun with a smile. He made a bow. “I was beginning to wonder when I would see you.”
“You could have asked,” she said, grinning. “Is it true they call you the gaijin Crane?”
That name, given to him by Shimekiri, had followed Harun from Toshi Ranbo. It was no surprise that it was being repeated here.
“I am called many things,” said Harun good naturedly.
He looked past Isanko to see two men coming closer. Of course, this was her father Doji Sorei and her protector the ronin Kumo.
“You are quite famous now,” said Isanko. “And important.”
“Well, one day you could be,” Harun suggested. He bowed as Doji Sorei went to stand behind his daughter. “Doji-sama, a pleasure to see you and your daughter are well.”
“Likewise,” said Sorei cordially.
“I trust your wife, the Lady Haihime, is also well?” Harun asked, ignoring Sorei’s aloofness.
“My wife does as she always has,” said Sorei, he put a protective hand on his daughter. “I do hope you excuse us,Kakita-chui we have a prior engagement and cannot dally here.”
Harun made another bow. “Of course.”
“Please come to see us,” Isanko said earnestly.
Harun looked over at Sorei’s impassive face. The Doji seemed reluctant, but not overly so. “I’ll do my best,” he promised.
As Sorei conducted his daughter away, the ronin Kumo turned slightly. What happened next was not what Harun expected. The ronin bowed.
“Kakita-chui,” he said, then turning to walk back with his charges.
Harun stared at him. Just what was this ronin’s game? And who was he?
The room where Doji Nashikyo received him made Harun feel as if he had left Kyuden Hida and was at the estate of some notable in Crane lands. One of the stone walls was covered with a tapestry, from the other hung a scroll painted with flowers and birds. A table was in front of the scroll with cushions around it, an arrangement of irises and bamboo in the centre in a vase.
Harun made a bow. “Thank you for inviting me, Doji-sama,” he said. He presented gift for the appropriate offerings and refusals and then was invited to sit.
Nashikyo sat across from him pouring tea. Harun guessed she was about middle aged, been in the trade for a number of years. Her kimono and its various accents were up to the latest fashion, her hair and make up in the understated style that many older Crane women seemed to favour.
“I suppose…” Harun said. “I am not the first to meet you in this way.”
“Nor are you the last, Kakita-chui,” Nashikyo said. “When the snow lies deep in the winter, no one knows how many new shoots will rise when it thaws.”
Harun sipped his tea, his face perfectly bland. If Nashikyo wished to know him, then let her make the effort.
“This is your first time attending the Imperial Court, is it not?” Nashikyo asked, offering him a wagashi cake which were shaped like little flower buds.
“Yes,” answered Harun, accepting a cake.
“And yet,” remarked Nashikyo, “I have not seen you at many of the events. The Winding Water Banquet, for instance, is quite the chance to make the acquaintance of many at court.”
Harun took a sip of his tea, placing his cup back carefully. “Given the current…mood around my actions at Toshi Ranbo, I thought it…prudent to avoid such an event,” he said. “From what I understand about the…nature of the banquet, the sake tends to loosen tongues. I wish to…avoid such embarrassment.”
“But you did choose to distinguish yourself just yesterday before the entire Imperial Court,” said Nashikyo. “You spoke quite eloquently too.”
“That was a personal obligation,” said Harun. “I was a friend of Zetsubou-no-shryo and I was with him when he died. I owe it to his memory to make sure his sacrifice is known to all.”
“So, you value personal obligations quite highly, Kakita-chui?” Nashikyo asked.
“Very much,” said Harun. “I suppose even more now since the time I spent with the Legion. You very much depend on the man next to you.”
“Does it matter who this man is?” Nashikyo asked.
“Only that his sword is not claimed by Jigoku and that he can stand and fight beside,” said Harun.
“So, birth, training, tradition…surely these matter more?” Nashikyo pressed.
“They matter,” said Harun, his voice hardening. “But forgive me, Doji-sama, you have not fought on the field of battle where all that can save your life is a friendly blade beside you. I have.”
Nashikyo poured more tea. “You speak with such experience for one so young, Kakita-chui. You are almost eighteen winters gone?”
Harun nodded. “Perhaps I am simply the product of the times I was brought up in. I became what I needed to be.”
“There are other paths,” insisted Nashikyo. “Higher ones, ones more worthy.”
These words had to come from his father, and may be the reason why Karasu wasn’t there at all.
“There are,” agreed Harun, placing his tea cup down.
“You chose not to do this,” said Nashikyo. “To break with tradition, may I ask why?”
“To save the lives of those who would have died that day,” Harun answered. “That was my purpose.”
“But that was not the result,” said Nashikyo.
Harun shrugged. “So it seems.”
“You may offer seed to the wind, Kakita-chui,” said Nashikyo. “But no matter where it falls, it still must leave your hand.”
“But still the seed will sprout,” countered Harun. “Is this not true?”
“Not always,” said Nashikyo. She looked at the vase between them. “I enjoy irises, but if I were to plant them on a public road I would not see many blooms.”
Harun drank down his tea in one draught, the scalding pain seemed to fit his mood. “I am not gardener, Doji-sama, but I thought iris came from bulbs, not seeds.”
“You are right,” the nakodo said coldly. “You are no gardener.” She sipped her tea, her voice took on a different turn. “I know you have been reticent to attend the events of court, Kakita-chui, but I have heard that the art exhibition of the Turquoise Championship contestants will be particularly fine.”
“It is?” Harun asked.
“Indeed,” said Nashikyo. “If you were to attend, Kakita-chui, you may find it to your advantage.”
“I will consider it, Doji-sama,” said Harun.
Harun immediately went to the dojo after leaving the nakodo, not even bothering to change out of his court clothes. The place was quiet aside from the students, which suited Harun fine.
He picked up a bokken and immediately went into the Ten Thousand Days kenjutsu drill, and at a furious pace. Once he was done, he went to it again, and again. And again. Sweat stains started to form under his arms as well as roll down his face, his breathing started to become laboured. But he continued, pushed past the limits of his endurance. The wooden practice sword a blur in front of him.
Sweat started to pour down his hands, making the handle slippery. He made another lunge and it slipped from his fingers, falling to the tatami mat.
He heard a laugh. “I thought it was supposed to be the other way around.”
Harun turned to see Hida Nasu. He bowed. “Hida-sama.”
“Kakita-chui.” Nasu bowed in reply. “That was how it went, wasn’t it? The baka dropped his katana, and then you attacked?”
“Yes, it was, Hida-sama.” said Harun. “The jade augmented ball entered his shoulder, stopping his first strike. That was the plan. Dropping his katana…that was just luck.”
Nasu tilted his head, looking at Harun curiously. “You are an odd one, Kakita-chui,” he said. “I have known bushi who have done less than you, and they never leave you in doubt of their exploits. Something you I haven’t seen you do.”
“Perhaps it’s because I don’t need to,” said Harun. “All people have to do is look at me, they know what I have done and they have already made up their minds.”
“There is more to it than that, I think,” said Nasu.
Harun grinned. “You are more perceptive than I gave you credit for, Hida-sama. To be honest, I have never wanted to distinguish myself for the sake of it, I stood out already.” He held out his hands, emphasising their darker tinge. “People have always stared and whispered, so I wanted to prove that I was more than what they thought of me.”
“Well,” said Nasu with a chuckle. “You did that.”
“Yes,” agreed Harun.
“You know what they’re calling you?” Nasu asked. “The Gaijin Crane.”
“I have heard,” said Harun quietly.
Nasu took a step closer to him. “Kakita-chui, if you are looking for the Crane to give you what you deserve, you are not going to get it. But there are others who will.”
“The Crab?” Harun asked.
“Yes,” conceded Nasu. “And others. I know if it came to it, I would be honoured to fight beside you.”
“Thank you, Hida-sama,” said Harun. “I’m…not sure what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything, you have done more than enough,” said Nasu. He picked up a bokken, grinning at Harun. “Let’s see if I can have you on the mat this time, neh? And it’s Nasu.”
Harun went back to his room feeling more battered than he had been since he had left Toshi Ranbo. But he felt good. Alive. Exhilarated. But he was looking forward to a hot bath and a quiet evening. Perhaps a few games of Fortunes and Winds with Koharu.
But when he arrived back where the Legion guests were quartered, he saw Koharu speaking with a familiar figure. White hair, burn scars on his face, subdued clothing. It was Kumo.
Kumo turned and bowed deeply when Harun approached. “Kakita-chui, I had hoped to find you here. I wanted to personally express my appreciation for your handling of that bothersome bird. He was quite the irritating problem.”
Harun returned Kumo’s bow. “You mean Shimekiri?”
Kumo nodded.
Harun had no heard Kumo speak at length before, and there was a quality to the older man’s voice that Harun did not expect of a ronin. A certain polish and fluidity, like silk, almost as if he had training as a courtier. And a confidence, almost an arrogance, as if he was not cowed at all by being a simple ronin in the Imperial Court.
“Indeed,” said Kumo. “The methods you used, it shows an incisiveness that I would not expect from someone of your age…or background.”
Harun wasn’t sure why Kumo’s smile made him feel uncomfortable, but it did. “There are some who would not agree with your assessment.”
“And there are some who would,” countered Kumo. He reached into his clothing and then pulled out a coin. Harun didn’t recognise it but could see it was made of gold.
“This but a small token,” said Kumo, offering the coin. “But I promise, it does have quite a story behind it.”
“Something such as this clearly has more value to yourself than to me” said Harun coldly. “I cannot accept.” Kumo’s familiarity irritated him.
“Its value is what makes it worthy of one such as yourself,” said Kumo, his words flowing like warm honey. “Please, accept with my complements.”
“And this is why I loathe to part you from it,” said Harun. “Its value and significance are known to you, not to me.”
Kumo gave a dry laugh. “Such knowledge is hardly privileged, Kakita-chui,” he said. “If you were to ask, say your aunt Kakita Kyoumi-sama, I am sure you will discover more. I believe Kakita-sama takes an interest in such things.”
Now that threw Harun. What would Kyoumi know of a coin that by all appearances was of gaijin origin? And how did a ronin know that she would? As much as Harun was curious, these were not questions he was prepared to ask Kumo. The only thing then was to accept the gift and hope Kyoumi would be forthcoming with him.
“Then I accept, Kumo-san,” Harun said.
Kumo placed the coin in Harun’s hand with a bow. “I will take up no more of your time, Kakita-chui,” he said, leaving quickly.
Harun examined the coin. He was right, it was gaijin, but more than that he didn’t know. It had strange markings on it Harun couldn’t decipher.
“That is what he gave you?” Koharu came out of her room.
Harun nodded.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I’m not sure,” Harun answered.
Harun knew that going to speak Kyoumi would be easier for him than others, which is probably why the ronin Kumo approached him. But he knew he needed to be careful, as much as he didn’t agree with the Crane Clan’s opinion on him, he didn’t want it to reflect badly on her.
Fortunately, the art exhibition made such things easier.
The art exhibition was to be held in one of the large courtyard of the castle. Usually this was where Crab bushi trained and drilled, but today scaffolding had been erected to hang the art works on, paintings and tapestries, and stands to display sculpture and ceramic ware. There was work in many different styles from many different artists from all over the empire. And between the paintings were poems on pieces of coloured paper, mostly haiku and tanka but Harun saw at least one Unicorn travel poem.
There were also musicians, seated on cushions and chairs with their instruments, spread out strategically so the music would not intermingle.
The crowd was getting rather large, Harun was determined to enjoy himself despite the cold looks and raised fans he got from people. But it was also fairly easy to see who was there while also keeping his distance.
There was Doji Teruhime, the Crane Champion’s daughter, she was surrounded by a veritable coterie. She didn’t even look in Harun’s direction. He also saw the Mantis Champion, Yoritomo Kagawa in conversation with Isawa Koyo who, judging by his stony face, clearly wished to be elsewhere.
But he could not see Kyoumi, not yet anyway. He turned his attention to a painting of green fields and a winding river, the serenity broken by an invading army of Onyx charging in from one side.
“Quite the contrast, is it not?” said a voice beside him.
Harun turned to see Doji Nashikyo. He didn’t realise before how short she was, coming up to his shoulder.
“It is a contrast,” said Harun, bowing. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Doji-sama.”
Nashikyo nodded slightly. She had an air of efficiency about her, as it she wished to do her duty to Harun as quickly as possible and be done with it.
“Kakita-chui, I was wondering if you could enlighten me about something.” She nodded to a Unicorn sitting on a stool near by playing a stringed instrument with a bow. “Can you tell me the name of that instrument? Surely you know given your background.”
Harun frowned, he knew exactly what she meant by his ‘background’. “It is called a morin khuur, Doji-sama,” he said. “It is similar to a shamisen, but I believe horse hair is used for the strings instead of silk.”
“Most interesting,” said Nashikyo. “I thank you, Kakita-chui.”
In front of the musician was a young woman, she wore a simple kimono and obi in the colours of Crab Clan. She then turned her head and Harun recognised her. That was Nasu’s cousin, the Hiruma Daimyo’s daughter and heir. What was her name? Nasu had introduced them at the banquet. Yosoko, that was it.
“The sound is not to everyone’s taste,” continued Nashikyo. “But I suppose it is enjoyed by some.”
“Yes, yes it is,” said Harun, still examining Yosoko.
So, this is the woman I am going to marry…
She was tall, but not taller than he was. Not unattractive, but of course nothing compared to the stunning beauty of Crane women. She was strong, from what Nasu had told him, and knew her way around a sword and bow.
Ever since Nashikyo had suggested the art exhibition Harun knew something like this could happen. The tradition of the hidden “first look” the omai, was still maintained among the Crane. Harun had hoped seeing his intended would stir something in him. But when he looked at the woman who had been chosen for him to marry and he felt…nothing for her.
But then Nasu’s words came back to him. Among the Crab Harun would have the respect and recognition he would never get for the Crane. The Crab had already shown this with giving him the honour of having his name in their Hall of Ancestors. This was further proof of that, a very illustrious match. Close ties to the Champion’s family. The prospect that one of his own children would one day be Daimyo of a Great Clan family…
Perhaps, she improves on further acquaintance, Harun thought.
“Tell me, what do you think of the music, Kakita-chui?” Nashikyo asked.
“It is…unusual but I find it pleasing,” said Harun. “But did you know the Unicorn usually have a throat singer accompany a morin khuur?”
“Oh?” Nashikyo looked at him with interest.
“Yes, alone I think the music is good but somewhat wanting,” said Harun. “But together with the khoomei singer…it is a harmony that can stir the heart.”
Nashikyo nods. “Quite,” she said. “You must excuse me, Kakita-chui.”
Harun bowed. “Of course, Doji-sama.”
He turned his attention back to the painting though it swam before his eyes. He had just seen his future before him and all the feeling he could summon was a grudging acceptance.
Oh Arahime-chan, how I miss you…
“Harun? Is there something wrong?”
Akodo Koneko approached him. She had done her hair in a new style, pulled back from her usual braids with waves from her forehead framing her face.
“Not with you, Koneko-chan,” Harun said, summoning a smile. “I did not see you after the Lion petition.”
“Mother had me watch from the gallery,” she said. “I did try to find you after, but Miraiko said you had gone.” She examined Harun’s face. “Harun…you look sad. If there is something wrong you can tell me. Let me help you as you helped me.”
Harun knew he could not lie to her. “I suppose everyone will know soon enough,” said Harun. “The Crane woman I was just speaking to was a nakodo, and she just showed me the woman I would be marrying.”
“Marry? Oh.” Koneko’s face fell.
Harun nodded. “It is a little hard for me to take as well,” he said. “Somehow I always thought it would all happen differently.”
Koneko nodded quickly. “I…I think we all do,” she said. “Harun, could you excuse me? I’m not feeling very well.”
She left before Harun could say anything else.
Harun blinked. Had he said something to upset her?
But before he could think about this further, Kyoumi finally came into view. She was talking to Susumu Shibatsu, the Spider Clan Champion and the Emperor’s brother. He was surprisingly limber for a man of his advancing years. They stopped before a porcelain sculpture on a stand showing a Crab bushi riding a carp.
Harun stood a discreet distance away looking something else. Green dragons circling around the rim of a gold vase. Waiting for either of them to walk away.
Then, not twenty steps away he saw someone else. Crown Prince Kiseki, looking a great deal more mature than when Harun had seen him at Shiro sano Kakita last year. And accompanying him, in the impassive stance of a yojimbo, was Harun’s father Karasu.
For what seemed like an age, Karasu and Harun locked eyes. Neither of them made any sign to each other, or attempted to say any words. They had not spoken since Otosan Uchi. Harun expected to see coldness from his father, but that was not what he saw. He saw sadness, disappointment.
The moment passed, the both averted their eyes. The prince was now speaking to a Crane girl, and behind her appeared to be her mother.
Harun stared. This meeting was staged and cannot be a coincidence, he thought, but…isn’t he supposed to marry Isanko? What does this mean now?
Shibatsu bowed and walked away. Harun quickly approached Kyoumi, standing opposite her with the sculpture between them. “Oba-sama,” he said, making a bow.
Kyoumi gave him a brief nod, but as the Voice of the Emperor there was little she could do to acknowledge Harun in public. Harun decided to be as brief as he could.
“I was given this, I was told you would know more about it.” Harun handed her the coin.
Kyoumi examined the coin. She was very still. “Where did you get this?”
“It was given to me, by—”
“No,” Kyoumi interrupted, she secreted the coin inside one of her sleeves and raised her fan. “You need to bring to me the one who gave it to you.”
“You know more about this?” Harun asked.
“Later,” she said softly, signalling with her fan that Harun should go.
Harun left her, a million questions circling his mind. Kumo was right, Kyoumi did seem to recognise the coin. But why? And how did Kumo know she would. And honestly, who was Kumo anyway?
He looked for where his father had been, but he had gone.
Later that day, Harun walked with Hida Nasu on the walls around Kyuden Hida. They walked among the bushi that were on duty who acknowledged them as they passed. Nasu seemed to know many of them personally and it did please them to be known.
Harun was growing to like Nasu’s company, but that wasn’t the only reason he was here. If he was to be marrying into the Crab, then he knew he better know Kyuden Hida more as he might be staying here given Shiro Hiruma was still in enemy hands.
“Hida-sama?” Harun asked when they were finally alone.
“Nasu, please,” said the Crab.
“Sorry, Nasu-sama, I wish to ask you something,” said Harun.
“Go ahead,” said Nasu.
“Did you have much to do with my betrothal?” asked Harun.
“Eh?”
“I…guess you don’t know,” said Harun. “Well, it looks like I might be marrying your cousin.”
“Yosoko?”
Harun nodded.
Nasu grinned. “This is wonderful news. Yosoko is a great girl and you should be very happy, and a welcome addition to the Crab.”
Harun smiled. “Thank you, Nasu-sama. I only found out today, nothing has been settled yet.”
“From what you have told me, Harun, the Crane is eager to be rid of you,” said Nasu.
Harun nodded sadly.
“Well, to answer your question, I haven’t had anything to do with it. But Yosoko has asked about you,” said Nasu.
“What did you tell her?” Harun asked.
“What would I tell her? That you have a different pair of chopsticks for each meal. That you…” He grinned. “That you spend three hours each morning shaping your beard.”
“That is hardly fair,” Harun argued. “I only need two.”
They both laughed. If this was what being a Crab was going to be like, Harun was all for it.
“There is something I wanted to ask you Harun, but since you are joining the Crab I think it’s more important,” said Nasu. “I’ll be leaving for the Wall in a few days with fresh troops. I’d like if you were to come with me.”
Harun looked at him in surprise. “Me? See the Wall?”
Nasu nodded.
“I would be honoured, Nasu,” said Harun. “I accept.”
“Good then,” said Nasu, pleased.
Harun looked to where he could see the Wall on the horizon. “Is it really as big as they say it is?”
“Bigger,” said Nasu. “They say no one forgets their first time.”
They both laughed again.
“So, we will be gone for three days, maybe four,” said Nasu. They started walking again, Nasu taking heavy, confident strides. “And we get the chance be dazzled by your golden Crane armour.”
Harun’s voice caught in his throat. “Actually…I no longer have it.”
“What?!?” Nasu stopped and looked at Harun, a look of complete shock on his face. “What do you mean you no longer have your armour? Was it stolen?”
“No, but…” Harun could feel his cheeks burn with embarrassment. “At Toshi Ranbo my father took it from me. He said after what I did…that I no longer deserved to wear it.”
Nasu approached Harun. He gently put a hand on Harun’s shoulder. “I had no idea that it was this bad. To deprive a samurai of his armour…”
Harun nodded. “I am sorry, I had hoped to see the wall with you.”
Nasu pointed an accusing finger at Harun. “Don’t you dare apologise for what you have done, Harun. Ever! It is disgusting how they are treating you.”
Harun gave a weak smile.
Nasu started walking again. “Don’t worry about the armour, I’ll fix it,” he said. “Maybe it would be good for you to get away from here for a few days.”
“I can’t disagree,” said Harun.
Harun looked for Koneko for the rest of the day but she wasn’t to be found. He even went and asked for her where the Lion were quartered but they didn’t know either. So the next day he went through the tunnel and went down to the beach. Perhaps she would be there.
The wind was intense down on the beach, whipping up the waves into a fury. Harun looked around but Koneko wasn’t in sight. He walked up the beach looking for her, still not seeing her. Could she be in those caves up ahead?
As he neared the caves he could see light coming from inside one, so he went inside. The opening was narrow, but he could see it opened up further in. He could see a figure, kneeling before several flickering candles that surrounded a small statue. It was a man, bare skin to his waste, broad-shouldered. Burn marks down one side of his body. White hair.
Kumo.
Harun knew he should have left then, but this could be his once chance to find out more about Kumo. Slowly, carefully, he went closer.
Kumo was speaking, but he couldn’t make out the words. Harun tried to get nearer, hear what he was saying. One step…two steps...
Then Kumo turned. His face a mask of fury. His pale skin was golden in the candle light. His right arm red…with blood. “What are you doing here, boy?”
“What are you doing?” Harun drew his sword. “You will stop this now and come with me!” He didn’t know much about magic, but he knew blood meant maho.
Kumo laughed. It was raucous and mocking…sort of reminiscent of how Shimekiri had sounded before Harun had killed him. “Look, you fool!” He pointed to the statue of Shahai, the Fortune of Blood where he had been kneeling moments before. “You are just like your mother Yamada, charging in with your sword without knowing.”
Harun froze. “How do you know my mother?”
Kumo laughed again. “It is hardly a secret. And I knew you for her son as soon as I saw you.” He grinned, cold and mocking like a skull. “You think I was always a ronin? I was there when your father Yasuki Nakura was killed. Yamada, covered in his blood after he did the only decent thing in his life.” Kumo shook his head. “Pathetic.”
“You’re wrong,” Harun said, his hands firmly on his sword. “My father was a brave man who died to save my mother, and me! I will not listen to your lies!”
“Lies? Ha! Why should I make up a story when the truth is far, far more interesting?” Kumo challenged. “Ask Janisha, ask Kyoumi. Or better yet…ask that man who you call father. They are the ones who lied to you.”
“That’s not true!” Harun shouted. But his arguments felt weak, flat.
“That duel your father got your mother into was entirely of his own making. All he had to do was keep his mouth shut about the ashes, then nothing would have happened. Couldn’t even do that, and your mother—fool she was—stood by him.” He looked at Harun coldly. “The best thing Nakura could do was walk into that sword.”
Nakura’s own words came back to him. You have honour that I never had in my life… you have your mother’s courage…
“I won’t believe it!”
Kumo continued as if Harun had not spoken. “I did have to give Yamada credit though, that revenge she had for your father’s death I did not think her capable of. Even with the help of those Black Hand fanatics.” He grinned. “You know that shiny armour you wore at Toshi Ranbo? Well, the one who made is courted your mother. And then she murdered him, and his wife.” He laughed again. "She killed Shogun Kano too, did you know that? Cut off his head and wrapped his guts around a pole. And they say the Spider are barbarians..."
“But…”
“You know it, don’t you? That’s why she abandoned you! She left you, her only child so she could carve a path of blood through Rokugan with Shiba Michio. And the fact that you, her only son, committed the biggest outrage since Kakita picked up a sword fits so well. I was there when she condemned the Crane for using gaijin weaponry.”
“NO!”
Harun raised his sword and prepared to strike. Kumo did not move.
“Going to kill me, are you? Well, you probably could, your blade is quicker than hers was. But do you really know what you are doing?”
“Killing a nameless ronin that no one will miss,” Harun said coldly.
“Kill me, and you doom Rokugan,” Kumo said. “I will see the line of Hantei restored by any means necessary. I have worked for nearly twenty years for this and I will not fail! And I will not let you, Kyoumi or anyone else stop me.”
“I cannot let you pass,” said Harun, his voice as sharp as his blade.
“Still trying to be the hero,” said Kumo with a laugh. “If you want to do the right thing, you will let me pass. And you will take me to Kyoumi, she will make you see sense even if you cannot.”
Harun didn’t move.
“You were there for the prophecy,” said Kumo. “You know what must happen.”
He was right, Harun remembered the words of the Kitsu….the line of Hantei must be reconciled with the line of Iweko…
And Kumo was the agent to make that happen.
Harun sheathed his sword. “This doesn’t mean I trust you.”
“Of course,” said Kumo. “You know where to find me.” He went back inside the cave.
Harun left the cave, kicking up stones as he walked. Kumo’s words, what he had said, they couldn’t be true. But…then the ronin had no reason to lie to Harun.
Harun kept walking.
Harun received word from Nikako that Koneko had been found, but that she did not wish to see anyone. All Harun could do was convey his apologies and good wishes to her mother. He still did not know what he had done or said that had upset her so.
He received word from Kyoumi as well, unmarked but for a small bird painted in the corner. It said that she would be in the rock garden tomorrow afternoon. Harun made sure the information was passed on to Kumo. He didn’t like it at all, but he had no choice.
The Hida War College which operated out of the Kyuden Hida dojo hosted a tournament of sword displays. Each contestant would show a display of skill or strength against an opponent, the winner decided by a team of judges. Each of the Great Clans submitted a candidate, and the guests from the Imperial Legions had been given that right as well. Harun had been quickly settled to represent the Legion, given encouragement to “Show them all up”.
The Master Sensei of the Hida War College, Hida Sato, was judging and he had invited Doji Teruhime and the Taisa of the First Legion Katsura Hisato to judge with him.
Harun sat with the combatants and watched with some eagerness for his turn. Akodo Miraiko was representing the Lion Clan, but her demonstration with paper targets paled in skill next to her opponent Kakita Yashiro. The Kakita had done a rather beautiful display of slicing paper cranes in half after they were scattered in the air. Harun had seen Yashiro around the castle, usually in the company of Doji Teruhime so they hadn’t spoken.
No doubt that’s Teruhime’s doing, Harun thought, staring across at her, and I wouldn’t past her to spread about the “gaijin Crane” name.
It came to Harun’s turn, and by accident or design he faced Hida Nasu. The two bowed and the judges motioned for Nasu to go first.
Nasu called for rolled tatami mats to be brought. A row of four were lined up close together, and then another row and another. Three rows of rolled tatami mats.
Nasu drew his katana and went into a wide swing, with one slash he sliced off the tops of the mats making an upward diagonal cut. All of them, but one which was only nicked slightly with the edge of his sword. The Hida came back for it though, cutting off the top and giving the rest of them another shaving. Nasu bowed to the applause to the audience and Harun joined in.
When Nasu stepped to the side, Harun began his own display. From inside one of his sleeves he took out an apple. He then threw the apple into the air then drew his sword and sliced the apple in two as it fell through the air.
Impressive, but not amazing. While the audience gave respectable applause while Harun sheathed his sword and picked up the pieces. He then took a bite of one of the apple halves and then tossed it into the air. In a flash of steel, Harun drew his sword again, skewering the apple on the tip of his sword on the very space where Harun had bitten into it.
He bowed to the much warmer applause of the audience, then sat down and cleaned his blade.
Harun faced off against a Mantis next, progressing to the finals which was of course against Kakita Yashiro. They bowed to the judges and Yashiro went first. He was calm and didn’t seem to notice Harun at all, perfectly in the moment. This just infuriated Harun.
Look at him, Harun seethed, he just wants to show me up in front of everyone. Especially Teruhime. But I’ll show him.
A small candle was put in front of Yashiro. The candle was lit. Yoshiro stood in front of the candle silently for a moment, then drew his katana. There was a flash of movement as he cut towards the candle, cutting off the tip and resting it on the point of his sword for all to see. And it was still lit.
There was enthusiastic applause for Yashiro, especially from the Crane. Harun stood there very still, cold with anger.
It had to be deliberate, the trick with the candle. His father Karasu was known from it, taking the top of a still lit candle and using it to light a fire to make tea or light a lantern. Harun closed his fist as the anger built up inside him like a fire. This was an insult, and all part of the Crane’s plan to further embarrass him.
I’ll show them, Harun thought as he took up his position for his display.
He signalled motioned for Koharu to stand across from him with her bow. Harun stood still, his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to spring into action.
I’ll show them, thought Harun, the anger bubbling away, I’ll show them all, they’ll have to respect me now after this…
Koharu fitted an arrow to her bow and made the shot. Harun drew his sword, the blade slicing through the air as he attempted to split it…and missed. In his anger he had gotten the timing wrong, the arrow going over his blade and planting itself in a wooden pillar.
Harun stared at it. I missed, how could I miss? He felt cold all over.
He took his bow with as much grace as he could muster, acknowledging Yashiro’s victory. But he had to stand there while Yashiro was congratulated.
And then, when he was sure he didn’t need to be there a moment longer, Harun left.
The next afternoon, Harun went to the rock garden near where the Imperials and Chosen were quartered with Kumo. The two did not exchange any words beyond exchanging greetings. Kumo being affable and pleasant certainly did not help Harun’s mood.
Kyoumi was sitting on a stone bench at one side of the rock garden. Her attire was slightly more simpler than Harun had seen her wearing on the dais, easier to move in but still fitting her status as Voice of the Emperor. She carried a pale blue parasol decorated with birds and flowers, not just protection from the winter sun but giving some measure of privacy.
Harun went over to her and introduced Kumo. The ronin made a low bow, but Harun noticed something. A curious exchange between them beyond the formalities and courtesies.
They know each other, Harun realised, This…this is impossible!
“Thank you, Harun-kun,” said Kyoumi. Her tone indicated that he was dismissed, but her fan signalled that she didn’t want him to leave. So he went some distance away, sitting on another stone bench sitting across from two women who were playing go.
Harun watched them, though he couldn’t hear what was being said the exchange between them was interesting. Kyoumi was still, quietly listening while Kumo was far more animated, angry even. When Kyoumi shook her head, this only seemed to make things worse. Kumo gesticulated wildly, his voice rising in volume so Harun could hear what was being said.
“…I swear, if you do not arrange this marriage I’ll take matters into my own hands. I’ll take both of them and leave Rokugan, you can watch your Empire burn just as I watched mine…”
He spoke with such viciousness that Harun stood, his hand on his katana.
You ronin scum…how dare you!
“…you need Haihime to finish this, Yuhumi will never stop fighting you…”
Harun’s face was hard. Should have killed you when I had the chance…
Kyoumi looked up, looking at Harun directly in the eyes. That was enough for Harun to stop, and with a slight shake of her head he sat back down.
He stared openly now at Kumo, not bothering to hide the revulsion for the ronin.
When Kyoumi spoke her voice was calm, and not only did Kumo calm down, he looked pleased. He stayed just long enough to get a confirmation from her, and as soon as she nodded he bowed and left.
Harun quickly came up beside Kyoumi. “Should I…”
Kyoumi shook her head. “Let him go, he got what he came for,” she said, her voice having a slight edge to it.
Harun looked at her in surprise. But whatever came over Kyoumi had passed and she was herself again.
“Come, let us have some tea,” Kyoumi said, leading Harun inside. “I have been wanting to talk to you.”
The cold stone chamber was as stoic as any of the Crab, large and cold. The new Voice had found a way of making it her own, however. Along one wall hung two long scrolls, each completed with perfect calligraphy. One held the single word: "History". The other, a different word: "Tomorrow." By each delicate ikebana stood, the soft, silver buds of the willow, and the gnarled bark of the oak. Interestingly by there also lay a single, impossibly out of season, silk flower. A low table was set before the Voice, arranged with tea in a simple porcelain pot. She gestured Harun forward.
"Come."
He paused for a moment to really look at her before entering. Her delicate hands, her hair heavily streaked with grey, the face impassive and cool with makeup that made it impossible to determine her actual age. He remembered once, long ago, when she taught him and Arahime to swim, splashing and laughing in the shallow waves of the ocean. It seemed forever ago.
Maybe it was.
Harun slid into place across the table.
He watched her make the tea, a million questions going through his mind. Who was Kumo? How did Kyoumi know him? Was he trustworthy? If he wasn’t, why did Kyoumi just give him what he wanted? If he was then was he right about all those things he said about Harun’s birth parents? And if he was right why had Harun been lied to?
Harun felt his anger rising. It was bad enough how he was being treated by the Crane, but the prospect that those closest to him had lied to him was almost too much to bear. This was his heritage, a part of his own identity and to find out it was based on deception...
He sat there silently, watching Kyoumi serve the tea. She said she had wanted to talk to him. Well, he wasn’t going to stop her. But he would get answers.
Kyoumi pours the tea slowly, deliberately, not surrendering to haste. As Harun's anger grew, she watched him, moving slowly through the parts of the tea ceremony. It was all Harun could do to hold his temper, but he managed to follow the ancient ritual, even if his heart pounded in his chest with questions she was not answering.
But finally, as the first cups were ritually drained, the Voice of the Emperor spoke. "I sat where you do, Harun-kun. Eighteen years ago, at my first winter court. A thousand eager questions on the tip of my tongue, struggling to hold them all in. The Princess of Ashes across from me, the tea poured by the Lord of the Emerald Spider. Sometimes, no action is better. Sometimes questions are better answered with silence than speech. This is one of those times. Do you know who she is, the Princess of Ash? Haihime?"
Harun nodded. “She is Kanpeki’s daughter.”
"Yes. Born of the blood of the Hantei." Kyoumi takes another sip of tea. "Save for her daughter, the last, perhaps, of the direct Line."
A long silence stretched out between them, a silence Kyoumi allowed to fill with all of Harun's impatience. "What of your enemy? You fight with the Legions. Do you know who you fight? What do you know of Yuhmi?"
“He is in charge of the Onyx, took over when Kanpeki died,” says Harun. “We thought he was at Toshi Ranbo, but he’d fled.”
Harun looked at his teacup. What does this have to do with anything?
"He is an Oni Lord," the fragile-looking Kakita said without the slightest waver. "Created from the severed arm of Daigotsu, and granted the name of Hantei. Pierced and reforged with the blade of the Hantei, and empowered with the Tao of Fu Leng. From the reports we received over the years, he has sipped power from the souls of the Empire like a giant insect, until, bloated and swollen, he was the one who finally claimed the life of the weakened and mad Daigotsu Kanpeki, bringing all under its own control."
She paused, but her stormy grey eyes were locked on Harun's, unblinking. "No weapon, no magic, not even those of gaijin pepper, can touch him. Jigoku has extended its hand over him. No matter how many times we defeat his minions, he will return, and draw up the armies of hell with him to wage war on the Empire. There is none that can harm him. Save one."
Harun looked up. “Haihime?” What Kumo said...is that what he meant?
"Yes." Her sonorous voice was impassive. "This war will never end until Yuhmi is slain, by a true Hantei heir. There is no other."
Harun looked at her. “Is that what Kumo said?” He asked. “Why would you trust him at all?”
He watched her answer carefully, this was but the first step of what he wanted to know.
"This is what Kumo has said. But this is also what those in thrall to the darkness we have captured and tortured to find answers have said. This is what the assassins that have been sent to slay him and survived have said. This is what the Scorpion traitors who turned on him and failed have said. We know this because it is true."
She gave the softest of sighs. "I would never trust Kumo. I know who—and what—he is. But that does not make him wrong."
As she spoke, the light in the room dimmed and Harun could feel a chill breeze blow across the back of his neck. It stirred the Voice's hair, but her face remained still.
Harun started at her, his mouth open in shock. “What? But...how? He can’t be right...because if he is...”
Harun took deep breaths in and out to stop from flying into a rage.
How could you? All of you, lying to me when all I ever wanted was the truth...
She seemed to address his thought before he spoke it. "No. We did not lie. But you did not know all the truths you sought. But you are an adult now. And I am here and willing to answer. Ask plain and I will answer."
Her tone was soothing, but filled with authority, and her grey eyes watched him, unblinking.
The words came fast out of Harun’s mouth. “Why did my father die? Why was he in that duel at all? Why did he let the Scorpion kill him?” He took a deep breath. “I was told he was a hero, saving my mother’s life and mine. Are you saying that that is not what happened?”
If Kyoumi is surprised at the line of questioning, she does not show it. But she does not soften the blows her words have to offer either.
"Your birth father died because he placed himself firmly between the Scorpion and their chosen vengeance. Then in a moment of rashness, boasted of this fact before the very Throne of Heaven. Rather than flee, when the Scorpion swore he would pay for their humiliation, he, and your mother, thought they could hang their hopes, their futures, on the Traditions of Kakita, not realizing that the Scorpion had long before abandoned all such pretence. As so many have since."
Kyoumi's expression did not change.
"In a moment of clarity, there, at the end, he realized he could not allow you and your mother to suffer or die for his mistake. Not when his own life would be enough. He chose to take the final blow of the duellist’s blade himself rather than let her be his champion."
The traditions of Kakita... That smarted, but Harun brushed it aside.
”Why wasn’t I told this before?” Harun asked, his voice a little calmer but still angry. “I met his spirit right before Zetsubou died, and I didn’t know the whole story. But he thought I did.”
The Voice tilted her head and allowed her eyes to soften with compassion. "At first, it was because we initially believed there was a chance that even Nakura's death would be insufficient to sate the Scorpion's thirst for vengeance. And that even the home of the Emerald Champion could not protect you. Later? Because you might seek vengeance of your own, ignorant as you were if what vengeance your mother had claimed. And if we had told you of what she had done, you would have to have grown up bearing a burden no child should have to bear. That which you carried was heavy enough. We could protect you from this. For a little time."
“Vengeance? From my mother?” Harun turned cold. “That’s true as well?”
"Yes." There was a stiffness there, like a shut door with something terrible behind it.
Normally Harun would accept this, but not now. “Tell me.”
Kyoumi folded her hands in her lap and gazed through Harun as if to some dark memory long past. "She was only a girl. A gilded viper. Raised by the Onyx Scorpion to be a weapon of the courts, but not by her own choosing, no more than it was a choice for any of them. I had felt the sting of her words before in the court, and carried my shame, as had others; she was gifted with a wicked tongue. But they were only words still, intended to provoke and confuse, placed by her lord's command. It was her words that provoked Nakura to make his rash boast."
She paused, eyes fixed on the distance.
"But in the end, she had managed to escape. Betrayed Kanpeki, stirred the Scorpion Lord Nitoshi into action. Married a skilled smith. She fled to Otosan Uchi to make for herself a new nest far from corruption's touch. Over time, with her husband's affection, she began to shake off the call and, somehow, out of that twisted darkness make a path for herself towards a light, however dim."
Kyoumi's voice softened, hinting at a distant grief. "I found them. After. The Silent Maiden had peeled their faces off with a knife. Him first. Tied this little viper up and made her watch while she flayed him alive. Then she killed her, piece by piece, still screaming."
Kyoumi's eyes went directly to Harun's, locking him into place. "The Scorpion was my cousin."
Harun turned pale. This was a side of Kyoumi he had never seen. He shuddered.
“I am sorry, I should not have asked.” He felt rather small. “Kumo...we spoke on the beach. He told me very gladly all I didn’t know. He used the truth as a weapon, and one that I have used to attack you.”
Kyoumi waved her hand dismissively. "That is what he is. His name is...was...Susumu Ketsueki. A high ranking follower of Kanpeki and a priest of Shahai. Once, long ago. But he had more loyalty to the blood of the Hantei than to the one destroyed his family and tortured him into something...other. He swore his life to serve the true Hantei line, and when Haihime was found, he found a way out of the trap Kanpeki had placed him in. Only a fool would underestimate his power, or the lengths he would go to get what he desired, for he would gladly see the Empire in ashes if it meant that she would rule over them. But he is willing to help bring an end to this madness and allow this age to die so that a new Empire may be born, as long as it bears the blood of the Hantei at its head."
Kyoumi picked up her cup of tea. "Haihime’s husband, Sorei-san has watched and cared for the child with great loyalty, compassion, and duty every moment of her life. She is untainted and her spirit is pure. This sacrifice will yet be another the Crane will make to see this through. After everything else that has been sacrificed, it is a small enough thing."
“You mean the marriage?” Harun asked. “Isanko and Prince Kiseki? Is that what Kumo wanted?” He picked up his teacup and let it warm his hands.
"Yes.” Kyoumi answered. “And on your life, you must let no one know who it was that sought this."
Harun nodded without hesitation. “I promise,” he said. He had another thought. “Is that what happens now, Oba-san? Does it matter anymore how we do the things we do as long as they’re done?”
He hadn’t had the chance to talk with her about Shimekiri yet. He had hoped that if she was not sympathetic then she would at least listen to him more than his father Karasu had.
It may have been trick of the wavering light, but for a moment the breezes that drifted through the room and Kyoumi looked...old. She sighed.
"Oh, my poor boy," she answered, great pity in her voice. "Does it matter how we do things as long as they are done? We are the Crane. It is our place to choose what matters in this world. And, despite everything, all the wars and the bloodshed and horror, we, your parents, have tried to hold onto making the 'How' matter. Tried to keep showing that how you do things does matter. If it does not, then what place is there for honour? For sincerity and courtesy and bushido itself? What place is there for art and beauty, when the 'How' no longer matters? What place is there for Samurai? We are nothing but thugs with swords if the 'How' does not matter."
She brushed an elegant finger around the lip of her cup. "It is because of our failure that you ask this question. Because we have had to slip, and slip, and give up little pieces of that "How" to try to defeat an evil that makes the very earth scream in agony. We have tried to bring that into alignment with the Heavens. Show that the ‘How’ does matter, and that we only needed to update the traditions to grant new meaning. But our efforts were not enough. Not if our own children cannot see why the 'How' matters."
Again, she looked into Harun's dark eyes with her piercing eyes of stormy grey.
"If you are Crane, it is up to you to create the Empire we live in. Do you truly want to live in an Empire where 'How we do things' does not matter? Where what matters is only that they get done?"
“No, no I don’t,” said Harun. “But I have seen things that make me question it. I fought alongside ronin, heimin, people I trusted not because of what they were but because they who they were and what they could do. I saw my friend die, cut to pieces in front of my eyes while people stood by and let it happen.” He took a sip of tea to compose himself. “Many more Crane would have died that day for no reason at all. But I stopped it, I saved them. And no one cares.”
"Tell me of that day," Kyoumi said, lifting her tea to her lips.
Harun took a sip of tea and began his tale. “Takano Unit, we were to be one of the first into the city on the Mantis boats,” Harun began. “Father was there to see us off. It was raining.” He took a breath. “We were all there on the deck with the Mantis when we saw the Phoenix’s wave. It looked...beautiful. But then we got inside the city and saw the destruction it had wrought, saw the...the bodies. And heard them, slamming against the side of the boat.”
He closed his eyes. He could still hear them sometimes, especially in his nightmares.
“When we landed had to fight for every scrap of ground,” he continued. “There were some Dragon bushi, something happened to them, I still don’t know. We had to kill them, and they might have killed us had the Crane not arrived.” He paused. “Had Kakita Isamu-sama not arrived.” He smiled sadly. “My friend, Doji Kouta was with him.” He took a sip of tea, composing himself. “We fought our way through the palace itself then, it was dark and confusing. But we made it to the throne room, and there was Shimekiri, sitting on the throne itself grinning at us like a madman. Isamu-sama, he had told me earlier not to interfere. He went up on the dais and challenged Shimekiri...”
Harun paused again. Blinking, remembering. It was as if he had forgotten Kyoumi was there at all. “He was the first victim. Isamu, he was so good, so skilled...but it wasn’t enough. Shimekiri took his head and threw it off the dais. “Kouta was next, no one stopped him. No one even tried and he never had a chance, the poor fool.” He ran his hands over his face. His anger rising again. “I had to do something, I had to. Someone had to stop Shimekiri, for good. No one was really trying. All I had to do look at Daidoji Akemi. I had seen what she could do with her gaijin powder weapon, if I could just get her to throw off his first strike...I knew I had just one chance. I do hope nothing has happened to her.” He took another sip of tea. “But I knew if I killed him that would be the end. If I killed him, no one else would need to die that day. And if he killed me...well I was ready for that.”
He was quiet again for a moment. “I still couldn’t believe when it worked, when I had him, when I had the chance to end him and avenge all the deaths he had caused.” He looked up at Kyoumi. “But when it was done...all they cared about was how I did it, not the fact that he was dead. That was what they were trying to do. What else did they want from me?”
Kyoumi listened closely to Harun's words. "It is difficult to stand aside. To watch others die in your place when you think there must be some way you can help. You are not the first to feel this way, Harun. And you were gifted with a way to help, even though you knew when you did it that that was not the plan, that that was not your orders. The deaths of Isamu, of Kou. They must have felt useless. Meaningless. Perhaps you even still feel that way. Do you? Do you feel their deaths were devoid of meaning? Do you know why they made the choices they made?"
“Kouta and Isamu-sama were willing to sacrifice themselves,” said Harun. “But their deaths didn’t change anything, they didn’t have impact. Shimekiri was still there without a scratch on him after.”
"Did you see Doji Uchisuke and Kakita Hotsume? They were in the room with you."
Kyoumi's voice was calm and reasoned. The names, two of the finest Kenshinzen the Kakita school had to offer.
“No, I didn’t,” said Harun. “There were lots of people in the throne room, they probably saw me though.”
A slight dip of her head. "They were there to observe Isamu and Kouta. Fifty senpai of the Kakita Academy had travelled to have the honour of facing Shimekiri. All of them expected to die, if only to wear him down piece by piece. But, one of them, or Uchisuke or Hotsume, once they had observed his techniques, worn him down, and been blessed by the blessings of the Kami thanks to the Asahina...they would have killed Shimekiri. They were there to give their lives to redeem the Kakita Dueling Academy. To show that, in spite of all adversity and the corruptions of Jigoku, the Heavens really would bless the path of Kakita. That justice could be found on the edge of a sword, wielded by the pure of heart."
She quietly took a sip of her tea. "The fundamental belief in the Way of the Sword, that the world can fall into black and white at the will of the Heavens. This belief you have studied since that first day you and Arahime..." Her voice caught just a tiny bit. "were tested for the Dojo... this belief has saved thousands of lives. Ended thousands of blood-feuds. Stopped battles before they had begun. Isamu and Kouta and Uchisuke and Hotsume and the rest...and Karasu, they could not allow the Empire to believe that a creature like Shimekiri would be the final word for Kakita's Way. The Pure of Heart had to be victorious. So people would, once he was gone, have a way to believe in Iaijutsu again. To believe in us."
Harun knew Kyoumi was right, he had been raised with these values, not just learned them at the dojo. The lives saved, the justice done by the blade of a Kakita. That mattered, that still had to matter. But... “But...but...I killed him,” said Harun, he still felt strongly about what he did but no longer angry. “Does that mean nothing?”
Kyoumi looked at the boy...man...steadily. "More would have died, to wear the Blood Crane down. More lives lost on his blade. What they will do with their lives...that is up to them. But their lives are not 'Nothing.' "
He still looks so young. Like Kousuda. Younger.
"Beyond that? What was sacrificed for you to complete your plan? The son of the Emerald Champion, the Topaz Champion, an officer of the Imperial Legion, Kakita-trained all his life...used a gaijin-pepper weapon during a false duel to defeat an enemy he challenged. An enemy that had just been declared the finest duellist since Kakita. He did this before the eyes of members of every clan, the Imperial Legions. What does that mean before the clans?" Her face softened in pity, and she reached out a hand towards him. "My poor Harun. You are still Crane. What do you think it means?"
Karasu’s words from Toshi Ranbo came back to him.
Twelve hundred years...you threw it all away in one moment...How many others do you think will try and do what you did?
He was wrong, Kyoumi was wrong...they had to be. All those centuries, all that tradition, all the sweat and steel and blood...it still had to mean something. If it all could be thrown away by so easily, how much did it matter at all?
“No, no I won’t believe it,” he said. Quickly, firmly, as if saying the worse would dismiss all doubts including his own. “What I did...what I had to do to kill Shimekiri I am not proud of. They won’t throw twelve hundred years of Iaijutsu tradition all away because of me. They can’t.”
Kyoumi spreads her hands. "The avalanche has already started; It is too late for the pebbles to vote. But...there is hope. It might yet be redeemed, but those stories are beyond us now."
Harun shook his head. “Respectfully, Oba-san, I disagree.” He took a sip of tea. “Besides, I’m not going to be in the clan much longer to provide further embarrassment by my mere presence. You know about my betrothal?”
Perfect control, her voice cool. The Voice of the Emperor. "I had heard there were inquiries."
Harun looked up, curious about her change in tone. “Well, the first meeting is tomorrow, the Hiruma Daimyo and his daughter, father, the Nakodo everyone...they all seem very determined to have it all over and done with,” he said, looking into his teacup. “So, I will be not returning north with you, I am staying here. Hopefully that will be enough.” He didn’t sound happy about it at all, had resigned himself to the inevitable. And he of course couldn’t tell her how he really felt. That him marrying another was somehow the ending of all hope that Arahime might be found alive. That he could have a future with her.
"And so life goes on." She inclined her head. "I wish you well, always, Harun-kun."
A gentle dismissal, but a dismissal none the less.
Harun finished his tea. He felt as if they were on opposite sides of a great chasm. Harun wanted to reach across, find the words to heal that rift. But there were none.
Chapter 13
Winter, 1236 - Kuyden Hida
The next afternoon, Harun dressed carefully. Everyday he had been at Kyuden Hida he was scrutinised, but seeing the nakodo he knew this would be like nothing else he had experienced. Everything about him would be examined. Would it be enough? Would the gift he had obtained be seen worthy?
He took it out and looked at it again. It was a painting, in the traditional Crane style, showing the return of the Unicorn to Rokugan.
The Crane, they have already judged me, thought Harun angrily as he rolled the painting back up, and this is probably how they plan to be rid of me.
He closed his hand into a fist.
If they wish to know me, then let them know me…
Harun made his way through the castle to where the Crane were quartered. A servant told him the right room, but the sound of his name made him stop in the doorway.
He turned around and saw who is was. A girl of about ten years old wearing delicate grey silks with white hair in braids. The daughter of Haihime and Daigotsu Kanpeki’s granddaughter.
“Isanko-chan,” said Harun with a smile. He made a bow. “I was beginning to wonder when I would see you.”
“You could have asked,” she said, grinning. “Is it true they call you the gaijin Crane?”
That name, given to him by Shimekiri, had followed Harun from Toshi Ranbo. It was no surprise that it was being repeated here.
“I am called many things,” said Harun good naturedly.
He looked past Isanko to see two men coming closer. Of course, this was her father Doji Sorei and her protector the ronin Kumo.
“You are quite famous now,” said Isanko. “And important.”
“Well, one day you could be,” Harun suggested. He bowed as Doji Sorei went to stand behind his daughter. “Doji-sama, a pleasure to see you and your daughter are well.”
“Likewise,” said Sorei cordially.
“I trust your wife, the Lady Haihime, is also well?” Harun asked, ignoring Sorei’s aloofness.
“My wife does as she always has,” said Sorei, he put a protective hand on his daughter. “I do hope you excuse us,Kakita-chui we have a prior engagement and cannot dally here.”
Harun made another bow. “Of course.”
“Please come to see us,” Isanko said earnestly.
Harun looked over at Sorei’s impassive face. The Doji seemed reluctant, but not overly so. “I’ll do my best,” he promised.
As Sorei conducted his daughter away, the ronin Kumo turned slightly. What happened next was not what Harun expected. The ronin bowed.
“Kakita-chui,” he said, then turning to walk back with his charges.
Harun stared at him. Just what was this ronin’s game? And who was he?
The room where Doji Nashikyo received him made Harun feel as if he had left Kyuden Hida and was at the estate of some notable in Crane lands. One of the stone walls was covered with a tapestry, from the other hung a scroll painted with flowers and birds. A table was in front of the scroll with cushions around it, an arrangement of irises and bamboo in the centre in a vase.
Harun made a bow. “Thank you for inviting me, Doji-sama,” he said. He presented gift for the appropriate offerings and refusals and then was invited to sit.
Nashikyo sat across from him pouring tea. Harun guessed she was about middle aged, been in the trade for a number of years. Her kimono and its various accents were up to the latest fashion, her hair and make up in the understated style that many older Crane women seemed to favour.
“I suppose…” Harun said. “I am not the first to meet you in this way.”
“Nor are you the last, Kakita-chui,” Nashikyo said. “When the snow lies deep in the winter, no one knows how many new shoots will rise when it thaws.”
Harun sipped his tea, his face perfectly bland. If Nashikyo wished to know him, then let her make the effort.
“This is your first time attending the Imperial Court, is it not?” Nashikyo asked, offering him a wagashi cake which were shaped like little flower buds.
“Yes,” answered Harun, accepting a cake.
“And yet,” remarked Nashikyo, “I have not seen you at many of the events. The Winding Water Banquet, for instance, is quite the chance to make the acquaintance of many at court.”
Harun took a sip of his tea, placing his cup back carefully. “Given the current…mood around my actions at Toshi Ranbo, I thought it…prudent to avoid such an event,” he said. “From what I understand about the…nature of the banquet, the sake tends to loosen tongues. I wish to…avoid such embarrassment.”
“But you did choose to distinguish yourself just yesterday before the entire Imperial Court,” said Nashikyo. “You spoke quite eloquently too.”
“That was a personal obligation,” said Harun. “I was a friend of Zetsubou-no-shryo and I was with him when he died. I owe it to his memory to make sure his sacrifice is known to all.”
“So, you value personal obligations quite highly, Kakita-chui?” Nashikyo asked.
“Very much,” said Harun. “I suppose even more now since the time I spent with the Legion. You very much depend on the man next to you.”
“Does it matter who this man is?” Nashikyo asked.
“Only that his sword is not claimed by Jigoku and that he can stand and fight beside,” said Harun.
“So, birth, training, tradition…surely these matter more?” Nashikyo pressed.
“They matter,” said Harun, his voice hardening. “But forgive me, Doji-sama, you have not fought on the field of battle where all that can save your life is a friendly blade beside you. I have.”
Nashikyo poured more tea. “You speak with such experience for one so young, Kakita-chui. You are almost eighteen winters gone?”
Harun nodded. “Perhaps I am simply the product of the times I was brought up in. I became what I needed to be.”
“There are other paths,” insisted Nashikyo. “Higher ones, ones more worthy.”
These words had to come from his father, and may be the reason why Karasu wasn’t there at all.
“There are,” agreed Harun, placing his tea cup down.
“You chose not to do this,” said Nashikyo. “To break with tradition, may I ask why?”
“To save the lives of those who would have died that day,” Harun answered. “That was my purpose.”
“But that was not the result,” said Nashikyo.
Harun shrugged. “So it seems.”
“You may offer seed to the wind, Kakita-chui,” said Nashikyo. “But no matter where it falls, it still must leave your hand.”
“But still the seed will sprout,” countered Harun. “Is this not true?”
“Not always,” said Nashikyo. She looked at the vase between them. “I enjoy irises, but if I were to plant them on a public road I would not see many blooms.”
Harun drank down his tea in one draught, the scalding pain seemed to fit his mood. “I am not gardener, Doji-sama, but I thought iris came from bulbs, not seeds.”
“You are right,” the nakodo said coldly. “You are no gardener.” She sipped her tea, her voice took on a different turn. “I know you have been reticent to attend the events of court, Kakita-chui, but I have heard that the art exhibition of the Turquoise Championship contestants will be particularly fine.”
“It is?” Harun asked.
“Indeed,” said Nashikyo. “If you were to attend, Kakita-chui, you may find it to your advantage.”
“I will consider it, Doji-sama,” said Harun.
Harun immediately went to the dojo after leaving the nakodo, not even bothering to change out of his court clothes. The place was quiet aside from the students, which suited Harun fine.
He picked up a bokken and immediately went into the Ten Thousand Days kenjutsu drill, and at a furious pace. Once he was done, he went to it again, and again. And again. Sweat stains started to form under his arms as well as roll down his face, his breathing started to become laboured. But he continued, pushed past the limits of his endurance. The wooden practice sword a blur in front of him.
Sweat started to pour down his hands, making the handle slippery. He made another lunge and it slipped from his fingers, falling to the tatami mat.
He heard a laugh. “I thought it was supposed to be the other way around.”
Harun turned to see Hida Nasu. He bowed. “Hida-sama.”
“Kakita-chui.” Nasu bowed in reply. “That was how it went, wasn’t it? The baka dropped his katana, and then you attacked?”
“Yes, it was, Hida-sama.” said Harun. “The jade augmented ball entered his shoulder, stopping his first strike. That was the plan. Dropping his katana…that was just luck.”
Nasu tilted his head, looking at Harun curiously. “You are an odd one, Kakita-chui,” he said. “I have known bushi who have done less than you, and they never leave you in doubt of their exploits. Something you I haven’t seen you do.”
“Perhaps it’s because I don’t need to,” said Harun. “All people have to do is look at me, they know what I have done and they have already made up their minds.”
“There is more to it than that, I think,” said Nasu.
Harun grinned. “You are more perceptive than I gave you credit for, Hida-sama. To be honest, I have never wanted to distinguish myself for the sake of it, I stood out already.” He held out his hands, emphasising their darker tinge. “People have always stared and whispered, so I wanted to prove that I was more than what they thought of me.”
“Well,” said Nasu with a chuckle. “You did that.”
“Yes,” agreed Harun.
“You know what they’re calling you?” Nasu asked. “The Gaijin Crane.”
“I have heard,” said Harun quietly.
Nasu took a step closer to him. “Kakita-chui, if you are looking for the Crane to give you what you deserve, you are not going to get it. But there are others who will.”
“The Crab?” Harun asked.
“Yes,” conceded Nasu. “And others. I know if it came to it, I would be honoured to fight beside you.”
“Thank you, Hida-sama,” said Harun. “I’m…not sure what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything, you have done more than enough,” said Nasu. He picked up a bokken, grinning at Harun. “Let’s see if I can have you on the mat this time, neh? And it’s Nasu.”
Harun went back to his room feeling more battered than he had been since he had left Toshi Ranbo. But he felt good. Alive. Exhilarated. But he was looking forward to a hot bath and a quiet evening. Perhaps a few games of Fortunes and Winds with Koharu.
But when he arrived back where the Legion guests were quartered, he saw Koharu speaking with a familiar figure. White hair, burn scars on his face, subdued clothing. It was Kumo.
Kumo turned and bowed deeply when Harun approached. “Kakita-chui, I had hoped to find you here. I wanted to personally express my appreciation for your handling of that bothersome bird. He was quite the irritating problem.”
Harun returned Kumo’s bow. “You mean Shimekiri?”
Kumo nodded.
Harun had no heard Kumo speak at length before, and there was a quality to the older man’s voice that Harun did not expect of a ronin. A certain polish and fluidity, like silk, almost as if he had training as a courtier. And a confidence, almost an arrogance, as if he was not cowed at all by being a simple ronin in the Imperial Court.
“Indeed,” said Kumo. “The methods you used, it shows an incisiveness that I would not expect from someone of your age…or background.”
Harun wasn’t sure why Kumo’s smile made him feel uncomfortable, but it did. “There are some who would not agree with your assessment.”
“And there are some who would,” countered Kumo. He reached into his clothing and then pulled out a coin. Harun didn’t recognise it but could see it was made of gold.
“This but a small token,” said Kumo, offering the coin. “But I promise, it does have quite a story behind it.”
“Something such as this clearly has more value to yourself than to me” said Harun coldly. “I cannot accept.” Kumo’s familiarity irritated him.
“Its value is what makes it worthy of one such as yourself,” said Kumo, his words flowing like warm honey. “Please, accept with my complements.”
“And this is why I loathe to part you from it,” said Harun. “Its value and significance are known to you, not to me.”
Kumo gave a dry laugh. “Such knowledge is hardly privileged, Kakita-chui,” he said. “If you were to ask, say your aunt Kakita Kyoumi-sama, I am sure you will discover more. I believe Kakita-sama takes an interest in such things.”
Now that threw Harun. What would Kyoumi know of a coin that by all appearances was of gaijin origin? And how did a ronin know that she would? As much as Harun was curious, these were not questions he was prepared to ask Kumo. The only thing then was to accept the gift and hope Kyoumi would be forthcoming with him.
“Then I accept, Kumo-san,” Harun said.
Kumo placed the coin in Harun’s hand with a bow. “I will take up no more of your time, Kakita-chui,” he said, leaving quickly.
Harun examined the coin. He was right, it was gaijin, but more than that he didn’t know. It had strange markings on it Harun couldn’t decipher.
“That is what he gave you?” Koharu came out of her room.
Harun nodded.
“What is it?” she asked.
“I’m not sure,” Harun answered.
Harun knew that going to speak Kyoumi would be easier for him than others, which is probably why the ronin Kumo approached him. But he knew he needed to be careful, as much as he didn’t agree with the Crane Clan’s opinion on him, he didn’t want it to reflect badly on her.
Fortunately, the art exhibition made such things easier.
The art exhibition was to be held in one of the large courtyard of the castle. Usually this was where Crab bushi trained and drilled, but today scaffolding had been erected to hang the art works on, paintings and tapestries, and stands to display sculpture and ceramic ware. There was work in many different styles from many different artists from all over the empire. And between the paintings were poems on pieces of coloured paper, mostly haiku and tanka but Harun saw at least one Unicorn travel poem.
There were also musicians, seated on cushions and chairs with their instruments, spread out strategically so the music would not intermingle.
The crowd was getting rather large, Harun was determined to enjoy himself despite the cold looks and raised fans he got from people. But it was also fairly easy to see who was there while also keeping his distance.
There was Doji Teruhime, the Crane Champion’s daughter, she was surrounded by a veritable coterie. She didn’t even look in Harun’s direction. He also saw the Mantis Champion, Yoritomo Kagawa in conversation with Isawa Koyo who, judging by his stony face, clearly wished to be elsewhere.
But he could not see Kyoumi, not yet anyway. He turned his attention to a painting of green fields and a winding river, the serenity broken by an invading army of Onyx charging in from one side.
“Quite the contrast, is it not?” said a voice beside him.
Harun turned to see Doji Nashikyo. He didn’t realise before how short she was, coming up to his shoulder.
“It is a contrast,” said Harun, bowing. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Doji-sama.”
Nashikyo nodded slightly. She had an air of efficiency about her, as it she wished to do her duty to Harun as quickly as possible and be done with it.
“Kakita-chui, I was wondering if you could enlighten me about something.” She nodded to a Unicorn sitting on a stool near by playing a stringed instrument with a bow. “Can you tell me the name of that instrument? Surely you know given your background.”
Harun frowned, he knew exactly what she meant by his ‘background’. “It is called a morin khuur, Doji-sama,” he said. “It is similar to a shamisen, but I believe horse hair is used for the strings instead of silk.”
“Most interesting,” said Nashikyo. “I thank you, Kakita-chui.”
In front of the musician was a young woman, she wore a simple kimono and obi in the colours of Crab Clan. She then turned her head and Harun recognised her. That was Nasu’s cousin, the Hiruma Daimyo’s daughter and heir. What was her name? Nasu had introduced them at the banquet. Yosoko, that was it.
“The sound is not to everyone’s taste,” continued Nashikyo. “But I suppose it is enjoyed by some.”
“Yes, yes it is,” said Harun, still examining Yosoko.
So, this is the woman I am going to marry…
She was tall, but not taller than he was. Not unattractive, but of course nothing compared to the stunning beauty of Crane women. She was strong, from what Nasu had told him, and knew her way around a sword and bow.
Ever since Nashikyo had suggested the art exhibition Harun knew something like this could happen. The tradition of the hidden “first look” the omai, was still maintained among the Crane. Harun had hoped seeing his intended would stir something in him. But when he looked at the woman who had been chosen for him to marry and he felt…nothing for her.
But then Nasu’s words came back to him. Among the Crab Harun would have the respect and recognition he would never get for the Crane. The Crab had already shown this with giving him the honour of having his name in their Hall of Ancestors. This was further proof of that, a very illustrious match. Close ties to the Champion’s family. The prospect that one of his own children would one day be Daimyo of a Great Clan family…
Perhaps, she improves on further acquaintance, Harun thought.
“Tell me, what do you think of the music, Kakita-chui?” Nashikyo asked.
“It is…unusual but I find it pleasing,” said Harun. “But did you know the Unicorn usually have a throat singer accompany a morin khuur?”
“Oh?” Nashikyo looked at him with interest.
“Yes, alone I think the music is good but somewhat wanting,” said Harun. “But together with the khoomei singer…it is a harmony that can stir the heart.”
Nashikyo nods. “Quite,” she said. “You must excuse me, Kakita-chui.”
Harun bowed. “Of course, Doji-sama.”
He turned his attention back to the painting though it swam before his eyes. He had just seen his future before him and all the feeling he could summon was a grudging acceptance.
Oh Arahime-chan, how I miss you…
“Harun? Is there something wrong?”
Akodo Koneko approached him. She had done her hair in a new style, pulled back from her usual braids with waves from her forehead framing her face.
“Not with you, Koneko-chan,” Harun said, summoning a smile. “I did not see you after the Lion petition.”
“Mother had me watch from the gallery,” she said. “I did try to find you after, but Miraiko said you had gone.” She examined Harun’s face. “Harun…you look sad. If there is something wrong you can tell me. Let me help you as you helped me.”
Harun knew he could not lie to her. “I suppose everyone will know soon enough,” said Harun. “The Crane woman I was just speaking to was a nakodo, and she just showed me the woman I would be marrying.”
“Marry? Oh.” Koneko’s face fell.
Harun nodded. “It is a little hard for me to take as well,” he said. “Somehow I always thought it would all happen differently.”
Koneko nodded quickly. “I…I think we all do,” she said. “Harun, could you excuse me? I’m not feeling very well.”
She left before Harun could say anything else.
Harun blinked. Had he said something to upset her?
But before he could think about this further, Kyoumi finally came into view. She was talking to Susumu Shibatsu, the Spider Clan Champion and the Emperor’s brother. He was surprisingly limber for a man of his advancing years. They stopped before a porcelain sculpture on a stand showing a Crab bushi riding a carp.
Harun stood a discreet distance away looking something else. Green dragons circling around the rim of a gold vase. Waiting for either of them to walk away.
Then, not twenty steps away he saw someone else. Crown Prince Kiseki, looking a great deal more mature than when Harun had seen him at Shiro sano Kakita last year. And accompanying him, in the impassive stance of a yojimbo, was Harun’s father Karasu.
For what seemed like an age, Karasu and Harun locked eyes. Neither of them made any sign to each other, or attempted to say any words. They had not spoken since Otosan Uchi. Harun expected to see coldness from his father, but that was not what he saw. He saw sadness, disappointment.
The moment passed, the both averted their eyes. The prince was now speaking to a Crane girl, and behind her appeared to be her mother.
Harun stared. This meeting was staged and cannot be a coincidence, he thought, but…isn’t he supposed to marry Isanko? What does this mean now?
Shibatsu bowed and walked away. Harun quickly approached Kyoumi, standing opposite her with the sculpture between them. “Oba-sama,” he said, making a bow.
Kyoumi gave him a brief nod, but as the Voice of the Emperor there was little she could do to acknowledge Harun in public. Harun decided to be as brief as he could.
“I was given this, I was told you would know more about it.” Harun handed her the coin.
Kyoumi examined the coin. She was very still. “Where did you get this?”
“It was given to me, by—”
“No,” Kyoumi interrupted, she secreted the coin inside one of her sleeves and raised her fan. “You need to bring to me the one who gave it to you.”
“You know more about this?” Harun asked.
“Later,” she said softly, signalling with her fan that Harun should go.
Harun left her, a million questions circling his mind. Kumo was right, Kyoumi did seem to recognise the coin. But why? And how did Kumo know she would. And honestly, who was Kumo anyway?
He looked for where his father had been, but he had gone.
Later that day, Harun walked with Hida Nasu on the walls around Kyuden Hida. They walked among the bushi that were on duty who acknowledged them as they passed. Nasu seemed to know many of them personally and it did please them to be known.
Harun was growing to like Nasu’s company, but that wasn’t the only reason he was here. If he was to be marrying into the Crab, then he knew he better know Kyuden Hida more as he might be staying here given Shiro Hiruma was still in enemy hands.
“Hida-sama?” Harun asked when they were finally alone.
“Nasu, please,” said the Crab.
“Sorry, Nasu-sama, I wish to ask you something,” said Harun.
“Go ahead,” said Nasu.
“Did you have much to do with my betrothal?” asked Harun.
“Eh?”
“I…guess you don’t know,” said Harun. “Well, it looks like I might be marrying your cousin.”
“Yosoko?”
Harun nodded.
Nasu grinned. “This is wonderful news. Yosoko is a great girl and you should be very happy, and a welcome addition to the Crab.”
Harun smiled. “Thank you, Nasu-sama. I only found out today, nothing has been settled yet.”
“From what you have told me, Harun, the Crane is eager to be rid of you,” said Nasu.
Harun nodded sadly.
“Well, to answer your question, I haven’t had anything to do with it. But Yosoko has asked about you,” said Nasu.
“What did you tell her?” Harun asked.
“What would I tell her? That you have a different pair of chopsticks for each meal. That you…” He grinned. “That you spend three hours each morning shaping your beard.”
“That is hardly fair,” Harun argued. “I only need two.”
They both laughed. If this was what being a Crab was going to be like, Harun was all for it.
“There is something I wanted to ask you Harun, but since you are joining the Crab I think it’s more important,” said Nasu. “I’ll be leaving for the Wall in a few days with fresh troops. I’d like if you were to come with me.”
Harun looked at him in surprise. “Me? See the Wall?”
Nasu nodded.
“I would be honoured, Nasu,” said Harun. “I accept.”
“Good then,” said Nasu, pleased.
Harun looked to where he could see the Wall on the horizon. “Is it really as big as they say it is?”
“Bigger,” said Nasu. “They say no one forgets their first time.”
They both laughed again.
“So, we will be gone for three days, maybe four,” said Nasu. They started walking again, Nasu taking heavy, confident strides. “And we get the chance be dazzled by your golden Crane armour.”
Harun’s voice caught in his throat. “Actually…I no longer have it.”
“What?!?” Nasu stopped and looked at Harun, a look of complete shock on his face. “What do you mean you no longer have your armour? Was it stolen?”
“No, but…” Harun could feel his cheeks burn with embarrassment. “At Toshi Ranbo my father took it from me. He said after what I did…that I no longer deserved to wear it.”
Nasu approached Harun. He gently put a hand on Harun’s shoulder. “I had no idea that it was this bad. To deprive a samurai of his armour…”
Harun nodded. “I am sorry, I had hoped to see the wall with you.”
Nasu pointed an accusing finger at Harun. “Don’t you dare apologise for what you have done, Harun. Ever! It is disgusting how they are treating you.”
Harun gave a weak smile.
Nasu started walking again. “Don’t worry about the armour, I’ll fix it,” he said. “Maybe it would be good for you to get away from here for a few days.”
“I can’t disagree,” said Harun.
Harun looked for Koneko for the rest of the day but she wasn’t to be found. He even went and asked for her where the Lion were quartered but they didn’t know either. So the next day he went through the tunnel and went down to the beach. Perhaps she would be there.
The wind was intense down on the beach, whipping up the waves into a fury. Harun looked around but Koneko wasn’t in sight. He walked up the beach looking for her, still not seeing her. Could she be in those caves up ahead?
As he neared the caves he could see light coming from inside one, so he went inside. The opening was narrow, but he could see it opened up further in. He could see a figure, kneeling before several flickering candles that surrounded a small statue. It was a man, bare skin to his waste, broad-shouldered. Burn marks down one side of his body. White hair.
Kumo.
Harun knew he should have left then, but this could be his once chance to find out more about Kumo. Slowly, carefully, he went closer.
Kumo was speaking, but he couldn’t make out the words. Harun tried to get nearer, hear what he was saying. One step…two steps...
Then Kumo turned. His face a mask of fury. His pale skin was golden in the candle light. His right arm red…with blood. “What are you doing here, boy?”
“What are you doing?” Harun drew his sword. “You will stop this now and come with me!” He didn’t know much about magic, but he knew blood meant maho.
Kumo laughed. It was raucous and mocking…sort of reminiscent of how Shimekiri had sounded before Harun had killed him. “Look, you fool!” He pointed to the statue of Shahai, the Fortune of Blood where he had been kneeling moments before. “You are just like your mother Yamada, charging in with your sword without knowing.”
Harun froze. “How do you know my mother?”
Kumo laughed again. “It is hardly a secret. And I knew you for her son as soon as I saw you.” He grinned, cold and mocking like a skull. “You think I was always a ronin? I was there when your father Yasuki Nakura was killed. Yamada, covered in his blood after he did the only decent thing in his life.” Kumo shook his head. “Pathetic.”
“You’re wrong,” Harun said, his hands firmly on his sword. “My father was a brave man who died to save my mother, and me! I will not listen to your lies!”
“Lies? Ha! Why should I make up a story when the truth is far, far more interesting?” Kumo challenged. “Ask Janisha, ask Kyoumi. Or better yet…ask that man who you call father. They are the ones who lied to you.”
“That’s not true!” Harun shouted. But his arguments felt weak, flat.
“That duel your father got your mother into was entirely of his own making. All he had to do was keep his mouth shut about the ashes, then nothing would have happened. Couldn’t even do that, and your mother—fool she was—stood by him.” He looked at Harun coldly. “The best thing Nakura could do was walk into that sword.”
Nakura’s own words came back to him. You have honour that I never had in my life… you have your mother’s courage…
“I won’t believe it!”
Kumo continued as if Harun had not spoken. “I did have to give Yamada credit though, that revenge she had for your father’s death I did not think her capable of. Even with the help of those Black Hand fanatics.” He grinned. “You know that shiny armour you wore at Toshi Ranbo? Well, the one who made is courted your mother. And then she murdered him, and his wife.” He laughed again. "She killed Shogun Kano too, did you know that? Cut off his head and wrapped his guts around a pole. And they say the Spider are barbarians..."
“But…”
“You know it, don’t you? That’s why she abandoned you! She left you, her only child so she could carve a path of blood through Rokugan with Shiba Michio. And the fact that you, her only son, committed the biggest outrage since Kakita picked up a sword fits so well. I was there when she condemned the Crane for using gaijin weaponry.”
“NO!”
Harun raised his sword and prepared to strike. Kumo did not move.
“Going to kill me, are you? Well, you probably could, your blade is quicker than hers was. But do you really know what you are doing?”
“Killing a nameless ronin that no one will miss,” Harun said coldly.
“Kill me, and you doom Rokugan,” Kumo said. “I will see the line of Hantei restored by any means necessary. I have worked for nearly twenty years for this and I will not fail! And I will not let you, Kyoumi or anyone else stop me.”
“I cannot let you pass,” said Harun, his voice as sharp as his blade.
“Still trying to be the hero,” said Kumo with a laugh. “If you want to do the right thing, you will let me pass. And you will take me to Kyoumi, she will make you see sense even if you cannot.”
Harun didn’t move.
“You were there for the prophecy,” said Kumo. “You know what must happen.”
He was right, Harun remembered the words of the Kitsu….the line of Hantei must be reconciled with the line of Iweko…
And Kumo was the agent to make that happen.
Harun sheathed his sword. “This doesn’t mean I trust you.”
“Of course,” said Kumo. “You know where to find me.” He went back inside the cave.
Harun left the cave, kicking up stones as he walked. Kumo’s words, what he had said, they couldn’t be true. But…then the ronin had no reason to lie to Harun.
Harun kept walking.
Harun received word from Nikako that Koneko had been found, but that she did not wish to see anyone. All Harun could do was convey his apologies and good wishes to her mother. He still did not know what he had done or said that had upset her so.
He received word from Kyoumi as well, unmarked but for a small bird painted in the corner. It said that she would be in the rock garden tomorrow afternoon. Harun made sure the information was passed on to Kumo. He didn’t like it at all, but he had no choice.
The Hida War College which operated out of the Kyuden Hida dojo hosted a tournament of sword displays. Each contestant would show a display of skill or strength against an opponent, the winner decided by a team of judges. Each of the Great Clans submitted a candidate, and the guests from the Imperial Legions had been given that right as well. Harun had been quickly settled to represent the Legion, given encouragement to “Show them all up”.
The Master Sensei of the Hida War College, Hida Sato, was judging and he had invited Doji Teruhime and the Taisa of the First Legion Katsura Hisato to judge with him.
Harun sat with the combatants and watched with some eagerness for his turn. Akodo Miraiko was representing the Lion Clan, but her demonstration with paper targets paled in skill next to her opponent Kakita Yashiro. The Kakita had done a rather beautiful display of slicing paper cranes in half after they were scattered in the air. Harun had seen Yashiro around the castle, usually in the company of Doji Teruhime so they hadn’t spoken.
No doubt that’s Teruhime’s doing, Harun thought, staring across at her, and I wouldn’t past her to spread about the “gaijin Crane” name.
It came to Harun’s turn, and by accident or design he faced Hida Nasu. The two bowed and the judges motioned for Nasu to go first.
Nasu called for rolled tatami mats to be brought. A row of four were lined up close together, and then another row and another. Three rows of rolled tatami mats.
Nasu drew his katana and went into a wide swing, with one slash he sliced off the tops of the mats making an upward diagonal cut. All of them, but one which was only nicked slightly with the edge of his sword. The Hida came back for it though, cutting off the top and giving the rest of them another shaving. Nasu bowed to the applause to the audience and Harun joined in.
When Nasu stepped to the side, Harun began his own display. From inside one of his sleeves he took out an apple. He then threw the apple into the air then drew his sword and sliced the apple in two as it fell through the air.
Impressive, but not amazing. While the audience gave respectable applause while Harun sheathed his sword and picked up the pieces. He then took a bite of one of the apple halves and then tossed it into the air. In a flash of steel, Harun drew his sword again, skewering the apple on the tip of his sword on the very space where Harun had bitten into it.
He bowed to the much warmer applause of the audience, then sat down and cleaned his blade.
Harun faced off against a Mantis next, progressing to the finals which was of course against Kakita Yashiro. They bowed to the judges and Yashiro went first. He was calm and didn’t seem to notice Harun at all, perfectly in the moment. This just infuriated Harun.
Look at him, Harun seethed, he just wants to show me up in front of everyone. Especially Teruhime. But I’ll show him.
A small candle was put in front of Yashiro. The candle was lit. Yoshiro stood in front of the candle silently for a moment, then drew his katana. There was a flash of movement as he cut towards the candle, cutting off the tip and resting it on the point of his sword for all to see. And it was still lit.
There was enthusiastic applause for Yashiro, especially from the Crane. Harun stood there very still, cold with anger.
It had to be deliberate, the trick with the candle. His father Karasu was known from it, taking the top of a still lit candle and using it to light a fire to make tea or light a lantern. Harun closed his fist as the anger built up inside him like a fire. This was an insult, and all part of the Crane’s plan to further embarrass him.
I’ll show them, Harun thought as he took up his position for his display.
He signalled motioned for Koharu to stand across from him with her bow. Harun stood still, his hand on the hilt of his sword, ready to spring into action.
I’ll show them, thought Harun, the anger bubbling away, I’ll show them all, they’ll have to respect me now after this…
Koharu fitted an arrow to her bow and made the shot. Harun drew his sword, the blade slicing through the air as he attempted to split it…and missed. In his anger he had gotten the timing wrong, the arrow going over his blade and planting itself in a wooden pillar.
Harun stared at it. I missed, how could I miss? He felt cold all over.
He took his bow with as much grace as he could muster, acknowledging Yashiro’s victory. But he had to stand there while Yashiro was congratulated.
And then, when he was sure he didn’t need to be there a moment longer, Harun left.
The next afternoon, Harun went to the rock garden near where the Imperials and Chosen were quartered with Kumo. The two did not exchange any words beyond exchanging greetings. Kumo being affable and pleasant certainly did not help Harun’s mood.
Kyoumi was sitting on a stone bench at one side of the rock garden. Her attire was slightly more simpler than Harun had seen her wearing on the dais, easier to move in but still fitting her status as Voice of the Emperor. She carried a pale blue parasol decorated with birds and flowers, not just protection from the winter sun but giving some measure of privacy.
Harun went over to her and introduced Kumo. The ronin made a low bow, but Harun noticed something. A curious exchange between them beyond the formalities and courtesies.
They know each other, Harun realised, This…this is impossible!
“Thank you, Harun-kun,” said Kyoumi. Her tone indicated that he was dismissed, but her fan signalled that she didn’t want him to leave. So he went some distance away, sitting on another stone bench sitting across from two women who were playing go.
Harun watched them, though he couldn’t hear what was being said the exchange between them was interesting. Kyoumi was still, quietly listening while Kumo was far more animated, angry even. When Kyoumi shook her head, this only seemed to make things worse. Kumo gesticulated wildly, his voice rising in volume so Harun could hear what was being said.
“…I swear, if you do not arrange this marriage I’ll take matters into my own hands. I’ll take both of them and leave Rokugan, you can watch your Empire burn just as I watched mine…”
He spoke with such viciousness that Harun stood, his hand on his katana.
You ronin scum…how dare you!
“…you need Haihime to finish this, Yuhumi will never stop fighting you…”
Harun’s face was hard. Should have killed you when I had the chance…
Kyoumi looked up, looking at Harun directly in the eyes. That was enough for Harun to stop, and with a slight shake of her head he sat back down.
He stared openly now at Kumo, not bothering to hide the revulsion for the ronin.
When Kyoumi spoke her voice was calm, and not only did Kumo calm down, he looked pleased. He stayed just long enough to get a confirmation from her, and as soon as she nodded he bowed and left.
Harun quickly came up beside Kyoumi. “Should I…”
Kyoumi shook her head. “Let him go, he got what he came for,” she said, her voice having a slight edge to it.
Harun looked at her in surprise. But whatever came over Kyoumi had passed and she was herself again.
“Come, let us have some tea,” Kyoumi said, leading Harun inside. “I have been wanting to talk to you.”
The cold stone chamber was as stoic as any of the Crab, large and cold. The new Voice had found a way of making it her own, however. Along one wall hung two long scrolls, each completed with perfect calligraphy. One held the single word: "History". The other, a different word: "Tomorrow." By each delicate ikebana stood, the soft, silver buds of the willow, and the gnarled bark of the oak. Interestingly by there also lay a single, impossibly out of season, silk flower. A low table was set before the Voice, arranged with tea in a simple porcelain pot. She gestured Harun forward.
"Come."
He paused for a moment to really look at her before entering. Her delicate hands, her hair heavily streaked with grey, the face impassive and cool with makeup that made it impossible to determine her actual age. He remembered once, long ago, when she taught him and Arahime to swim, splashing and laughing in the shallow waves of the ocean. It seemed forever ago.
Maybe it was.
Harun slid into place across the table.
He watched her make the tea, a million questions going through his mind. Who was Kumo? How did Kyoumi know him? Was he trustworthy? If he wasn’t, why did Kyoumi just give him what he wanted? If he was then was he right about all those things he said about Harun’s birth parents? And if he was right why had Harun been lied to?
Harun felt his anger rising. It was bad enough how he was being treated by the Crane, but the prospect that those closest to him had lied to him was almost too much to bear. This was his heritage, a part of his own identity and to find out it was based on deception...
He sat there silently, watching Kyoumi serve the tea. She said she had wanted to talk to him. Well, he wasn’t going to stop her. But he would get answers.
Kyoumi pours the tea slowly, deliberately, not surrendering to haste. As Harun's anger grew, she watched him, moving slowly through the parts of the tea ceremony. It was all Harun could do to hold his temper, but he managed to follow the ancient ritual, even if his heart pounded in his chest with questions she was not answering.
But finally, as the first cups were ritually drained, the Voice of the Emperor spoke. "I sat where you do, Harun-kun. Eighteen years ago, at my first winter court. A thousand eager questions on the tip of my tongue, struggling to hold them all in. The Princess of Ashes across from me, the tea poured by the Lord of the Emerald Spider. Sometimes, no action is better. Sometimes questions are better answered with silence than speech. This is one of those times. Do you know who she is, the Princess of Ash? Haihime?"
Harun nodded. “She is Kanpeki’s daughter.”
"Yes. Born of the blood of the Hantei." Kyoumi takes another sip of tea. "Save for her daughter, the last, perhaps, of the direct Line."
A long silence stretched out between them, a silence Kyoumi allowed to fill with all of Harun's impatience. "What of your enemy? You fight with the Legions. Do you know who you fight? What do you know of Yuhmi?"
“He is in charge of the Onyx, took over when Kanpeki died,” says Harun. “We thought he was at Toshi Ranbo, but he’d fled.”
Harun looked at his teacup. What does this have to do with anything?
"He is an Oni Lord," the fragile-looking Kakita said without the slightest waver. "Created from the severed arm of Daigotsu, and granted the name of Hantei. Pierced and reforged with the blade of the Hantei, and empowered with the Tao of Fu Leng. From the reports we received over the years, he has sipped power from the souls of the Empire like a giant insect, until, bloated and swollen, he was the one who finally claimed the life of the weakened and mad Daigotsu Kanpeki, bringing all under its own control."
She paused, but her stormy grey eyes were locked on Harun's, unblinking. "No weapon, no magic, not even those of gaijin pepper, can touch him. Jigoku has extended its hand over him. No matter how many times we defeat his minions, he will return, and draw up the armies of hell with him to wage war on the Empire. There is none that can harm him. Save one."
Harun looked up. “Haihime?” What Kumo said...is that what he meant?
"Yes." Her sonorous voice was impassive. "This war will never end until Yuhmi is slain, by a true Hantei heir. There is no other."
Harun looked at her. “Is that what Kumo said?” He asked. “Why would you trust him at all?”
He watched her answer carefully, this was but the first step of what he wanted to know.
"This is what Kumo has said. But this is also what those in thrall to the darkness we have captured and tortured to find answers have said. This is what the assassins that have been sent to slay him and survived have said. This is what the Scorpion traitors who turned on him and failed have said. We know this because it is true."
She gave the softest of sighs. "I would never trust Kumo. I know who—and what—he is. But that does not make him wrong."
As she spoke, the light in the room dimmed and Harun could feel a chill breeze blow across the back of his neck. It stirred the Voice's hair, but her face remained still.
Harun started at her, his mouth open in shock. “What? But...how? He can’t be right...because if he is...”
Harun took deep breaths in and out to stop from flying into a rage.
How could you? All of you, lying to me when all I ever wanted was the truth...
She seemed to address his thought before he spoke it. "No. We did not lie. But you did not know all the truths you sought. But you are an adult now. And I am here and willing to answer. Ask plain and I will answer."
Her tone was soothing, but filled with authority, and her grey eyes watched him, unblinking.
The words came fast out of Harun’s mouth. “Why did my father die? Why was he in that duel at all? Why did he let the Scorpion kill him?” He took a deep breath. “I was told he was a hero, saving my mother’s life and mine. Are you saying that that is not what happened?”
If Kyoumi is surprised at the line of questioning, she does not show it. But she does not soften the blows her words have to offer either.
"Your birth father died because he placed himself firmly between the Scorpion and their chosen vengeance. Then in a moment of rashness, boasted of this fact before the very Throne of Heaven. Rather than flee, when the Scorpion swore he would pay for their humiliation, he, and your mother, thought they could hang their hopes, their futures, on the Traditions of Kakita, not realizing that the Scorpion had long before abandoned all such pretence. As so many have since."
Kyoumi's expression did not change.
"In a moment of clarity, there, at the end, he realized he could not allow you and your mother to suffer or die for his mistake. Not when his own life would be enough. He chose to take the final blow of the duellist’s blade himself rather than let her be his champion."
The traditions of Kakita... That smarted, but Harun brushed it aside.
”Why wasn’t I told this before?” Harun asked, his voice a little calmer but still angry. “I met his spirit right before Zetsubou died, and I didn’t know the whole story. But he thought I did.”
The Voice tilted her head and allowed her eyes to soften with compassion. "At first, it was because we initially believed there was a chance that even Nakura's death would be insufficient to sate the Scorpion's thirst for vengeance. And that even the home of the Emerald Champion could not protect you. Later? Because you might seek vengeance of your own, ignorant as you were if what vengeance your mother had claimed. And if we had told you of what she had done, you would have to have grown up bearing a burden no child should have to bear. That which you carried was heavy enough. We could protect you from this. For a little time."
“Vengeance? From my mother?” Harun turned cold. “That’s true as well?”
"Yes." There was a stiffness there, like a shut door with something terrible behind it.
Normally Harun would accept this, but not now. “Tell me.”
Kyoumi folded her hands in her lap and gazed through Harun as if to some dark memory long past. "She was only a girl. A gilded viper. Raised by the Onyx Scorpion to be a weapon of the courts, but not by her own choosing, no more than it was a choice for any of them. I had felt the sting of her words before in the court, and carried my shame, as had others; she was gifted with a wicked tongue. But they were only words still, intended to provoke and confuse, placed by her lord's command. It was her words that provoked Nakura to make his rash boast."
She paused, eyes fixed on the distance.
"But in the end, she had managed to escape. Betrayed Kanpeki, stirred the Scorpion Lord Nitoshi into action. Married a skilled smith. She fled to Otosan Uchi to make for herself a new nest far from corruption's touch. Over time, with her husband's affection, she began to shake off the call and, somehow, out of that twisted darkness make a path for herself towards a light, however dim."
Kyoumi's voice softened, hinting at a distant grief. "I found them. After. The Silent Maiden had peeled their faces off with a knife. Him first. Tied this little viper up and made her watch while she flayed him alive. Then she killed her, piece by piece, still screaming."
Kyoumi's eyes went directly to Harun's, locking him into place. "The Scorpion was my cousin."
Harun turned pale. This was a side of Kyoumi he had never seen. He shuddered.
“I am sorry, I should not have asked.” He felt rather small. “Kumo...we spoke on the beach. He told me very gladly all I didn’t know. He used the truth as a weapon, and one that I have used to attack you.”
Kyoumi waved her hand dismissively. "That is what he is. His name is...was...Susumu Ketsueki. A high ranking follower of Kanpeki and a priest of Shahai. Once, long ago. But he had more loyalty to the blood of the Hantei than to the one destroyed his family and tortured him into something...other. He swore his life to serve the true Hantei line, and when Haihime was found, he found a way out of the trap Kanpeki had placed him in. Only a fool would underestimate his power, or the lengths he would go to get what he desired, for he would gladly see the Empire in ashes if it meant that she would rule over them. But he is willing to help bring an end to this madness and allow this age to die so that a new Empire may be born, as long as it bears the blood of the Hantei at its head."
Kyoumi picked up her cup of tea. "Haihime’s husband, Sorei-san has watched and cared for the child with great loyalty, compassion, and duty every moment of her life. She is untainted and her spirit is pure. This sacrifice will yet be another the Crane will make to see this through. After everything else that has been sacrificed, it is a small enough thing."
“You mean the marriage?” Harun asked. “Isanko and Prince Kiseki? Is that what Kumo wanted?” He picked up his teacup and let it warm his hands.
"Yes.” Kyoumi answered. “And on your life, you must let no one know who it was that sought this."
Harun nodded without hesitation. “I promise,” he said. He had another thought. “Is that what happens now, Oba-san? Does it matter anymore how we do the things we do as long as they’re done?”
He hadn’t had the chance to talk with her about Shimekiri yet. He had hoped that if she was not sympathetic then she would at least listen to him more than his father Karasu had.
It may have been trick of the wavering light, but for a moment the breezes that drifted through the room and Kyoumi looked...old. She sighed.
"Oh, my poor boy," she answered, great pity in her voice. "Does it matter how we do things as long as they are done? We are the Crane. It is our place to choose what matters in this world. And, despite everything, all the wars and the bloodshed and horror, we, your parents, have tried to hold onto making the 'How' matter. Tried to keep showing that how you do things does matter. If it does not, then what place is there for honour? For sincerity and courtesy and bushido itself? What place is there for art and beauty, when the 'How' no longer matters? What place is there for Samurai? We are nothing but thugs with swords if the 'How' does not matter."
She brushed an elegant finger around the lip of her cup. "It is because of our failure that you ask this question. Because we have had to slip, and slip, and give up little pieces of that "How" to try to defeat an evil that makes the very earth scream in agony. We have tried to bring that into alignment with the Heavens. Show that the ‘How’ does matter, and that we only needed to update the traditions to grant new meaning. But our efforts were not enough. Not if our own children cannot see why the 'How' matters."
Again, she looked into Harun's dark eyes with her piercing eyes of stormy grey.
"If you are Crane, it is up to you to create the Empire we live in. Do you truly want to live in an Empire where 'How we do things' does not matter? Where what matters is only that they get done?"
“No, no I don’t,” said Harun. “But I have seen things that make me question it. I fought alongside ronin, heimin, people I trusted not because of what they were but because they who they were and what they could do. I saw my friend die, cut to pieces in front of my eyes while people stood by and let it happen.” He took a sip of tea to compose himself. “Many more Crane would have died that day for no reason at all. But I stopped it, I saved them. And no one cares.”
"Tell me of that day," Kyoumi said, lifting her tea to her lips.
Harun took a sip of tea and began his tale. “Takano Unit, we were to be one of the first into the city on the Mantis boats,” Harun began. “Father was there to see us off. It was raining.” He took a breath. “We were all there on the deck with the Mantis when we saw the Phoenix’s wave. It looked...beautiful. But then we got inside the city and saw the destruction it had wrought, saw the...the bodies. And heard them, slamming against the side of the boat.”
He closed his eyes. He could still hear them sometimes, especially in his nightmares.
“When we landed had to fight for every scrap of ground,” he continued. “There were some Dragon bushi, something happened to them, I still don’t know. We had to kill them, and they might have killed us had the Crane not arrived.” He paused. “Had Kakita Isamu-sama not arrived.” He smiled sadly. “My friend, Doji Kouta was with him.” He took a sip of tea, composing himself. “We fought our way through the palace itself then, it was dark and confusing. But we made it to the throne room, and there was Shimekiri, sitting on the throne itself grinning at us like a madman. Isamu-sama, he had told me earlier not to interfere. He went up on the dais and challenged Shimekiri...”
Harun paused again. Blinking, remembering. It was as if he had forgotten Kyoumi was there at all. “He was the first victim. Isamu, he was so good, so skilled...but it wasn’t enough. Shimekiri took his head and threw it off the dais. “Kouta was next, no one stopped him. No one even tried and he never had a chance, the poor fool.” He ran his hands over his face. His anger rising again. “I had to do something, I had to. Someone had to stop Shimekiri, for good. No one was really trying. All I had to do look at Daidoji Akemi. I had seen what she could do with her gaijin powder weapon, if I could just get her to throw off his first strike...I knew I had just one chance. I do hope nothing has happened to her.” He took another sip of tea. “But I knew if I killed him that would be the end. If I killed him, no one else would need to die that day. And if he killed me...well I was ready for that.”
He was quiet again for a moment. “I still couldn’t believe when it worked, when I had him, when I had the chance to end him and avenge all the deaths he had caused.” He looked up at Kyoumi. “But when it was done...all they cared about was how I did it, not the fact that he was dead. That was what they were trying to do. What else did they want from me?”
Kyoumi listened closely to Harun's words. "It is difficult to stand aside. To watch others die in your place when you think there must be some way you can help. You are not the first to feel this way, Harun. And you were gifted with a way to help, even though you knew when you did it that that was not the plan, that that was not your orders. The deaths of Isamu, of Kou. They must have felt useless. Meaningless. Perhaps you even still feel that way. Do you? Do you feel their deaths were devoid of meaning? Do you know why they made the choices they made?"
“Kouta and Isamu-sama were willing to sacrifice themselves,” said Harun. “But their deaths didn’t change anything, they didn’t have impact. Shimekiri was still there without a scratch on him after.”
"Did you see Doji Uchisuke and Kakita Hotsume? They were in the room with you."
Kyoumi's voice was calm and reasoned. The names, two of the finest Kenshinzen the Kakita school had to offer.
“No, I didn’t,” said Harun. “There were lots of people in the throne room, they probably saw me though.”
A slight dip of her head. "They were there to observe Isamu and Kouta. Fifty senpai of the Kakita Academy had travelled to have the honour of facing Shimekiri. All of them expected to die, if only to wear him down piece by piece. But, one of them, or Uchisuke or Hotsume, once they had observed his techniques, worn him down, and been blessed by the blessings of the Kami thanks to the Asahina...they would have killed Shimekiri. They were there to give their lives to redeem the Kakita Dueling Academy. To show that, in spite of all adversity and the corruptions of Jigoku, the Heavens really would bless the path of Kakita. That justice could be found on the edge of a sword, wielded by the pure of heart."
She quietly took a sip of her tea. "The fundamental belief in the Way of the Sword, that the world can fall into black and white at the will of the Heavens. This belief you have studied since that first day you and Arahime..." Her voice caught just a tiny bit. "were tested for the Dojo... this belief has saved thousands of lives. Ended thousands of blood-feuds. Stopped battles before they had begun. Isamu and Kouta and Uchisuke and Hotsume and the rest...and Karasu, they could not allow the Empire to believe that a creature like Shimekiri would be the final word for Kakita's Way. The Pure of Heart had to be victorious. So people would, once he was gone, have a way to believe in Iaijutsu again. To believe in us."
Harun knew Kyoumi was right, he had been raised with these values, not just learned them at the dojo. The lives saved, the justice done by the blade of a Kakita. That mattered, that still had to matter. But... “But...but...I killed him,” said Harun, he still felt strongly about what he did but no longer angry. “Does that mean nothing?”
Kyoumi looked at the boy...man...steadily. "More would have died, to wear the Blood Crane down. More lives lost on his blade. What they will do with their lives...that is up to them. But their lives are not 'Nothing.' "
He still looks so young. Like Kousuda. Younger.
"Beyond that? What was sacrificed for you to complete your plan? The son of the Emerald Champion, the Topaz Champion, an officer of the Imperial Legion, Kakita-trained all his life...used a gaijin-pepper weapon during a false duel to defeat an enemy he challenged. An enemy that had just been declared the finest duellist since Kakita. He did this before the eyes of members of every clan, the Imperial Legions. What does that mean before the clans?" Her face softened in pity, and she reached out a hand towards him. "My poor Harun. You are still Crane. What do you think it means?"
Karasu’s words from Toshi Ranbo came back to him.
Twelve hundred years...you threw it all away in one moment...How many others do you think will try and do what you did?
He was wrong, Kyoumi was wrong...they had to be. All those centuries, all that tradition, all the sweat and steel and blood...it still had to mean something. If it all could be thrown away by so easily, how much did it matter at all?
“No, no I won’t believe it,” he said. Quickly, firmly, as if saying the worse would dismiss all doubts including his own. “What I did...what I had to do to kill Shimekiri I am not proud of. They won’t throw twelve hundred years of Iaijutsu tradition all away because of me. They can’t.”
Kyoumi spreads her hands. "The avalanche has already started; It is too late for the pebbles to vote. But...there is hope. It might yet be redeemed, but those stories are beyond us now."
Harun shook his head. “Respectfully, Oba-san, I disagree.” He took a sip of tea. “Besides, I’m not going to be in the clan much longer to provide further embarrassment by my mere presence. You know about my betrothal?”
Perfect control, her voice cool. The Voice of the Emperor. "I had heard there were inquiries."
Harun looked up, curious about her change in tone. “Well, the first meeting is tomorrow, the Hiruma Daimyo and his daughter, father, the Nakodo everyone...they all seem very determined to have it all over and done with,” he said, looking into his teacup. “So, I will be not returning north with you, I am staying here. Hopefully that will be enough.” He didn’t sound happy about it at all, had resigned himself to the inevitable. And he of course couldn’t tell her how he really felt. That him marrying another was somehow the ending of all hope that Arahime might be found alive. That he could have a future with her.
"And so life goes on." She inclined her head. "I wish you well, always, Harun-kun."
A gentle dismissal, but a dismissal none the less.
Harun finished his tea. He felt as if they were on opposite sides of a great chasm. Harun wanted to reach across, find the words to heal that rift. But there were none.