Birds in their Nests
Chapter 4
The month that followed was a bit of a blur to Yamada. Kyoumi, Koko, and even Kousuda were constantly urging her to rest. And given Yamada was up through the night feeding Harun, she didn’t have a lot of energy to fight them.
Kokoro visited constantly, always with Nibui in tow who was very much subdued towards Yamada. The massive bruise around her eye she had had from when Yamada had struck her took a while to fade.
Just before the month of confinement was up, Kokoro examined her and pronounced her fit and healthy. But warned her that some of the changes that her body had undergone from carrying a child could be permanent.
“And you should not find it hard at all to bear more children,” she said confidently. “As long as everything went as it did before.”
“There will be no more children,” said Yamada. Her voice had a finality and coldness that even Kokoro did not question.
There might have been, once, added Yamada in thought once Kokoro had gone.
She looked down at Harun sleeping soundly on the tatami mat, his tiny little fist clutching the soft white blanket that covered him. So beautiful, so peaceful and innocent sleeping there. She loved every day she spent with him, but now each day was one closer to when she would have to leave him.
She touched his cheek, gently stroked his hair. Her promise to Michio, so easily made. But now…
When Yamada emerged from her confinement, the dying warmth of summer had been replaced by the chilly winds of autumn. The skies above Otosan Uchi were often grey and windswept, the maple trees shedding their leaves. But there was still colour. Kyoumi’s camellias were beginning to bloom, filling the garden with their white, pink and red blossoms.
A month on from his birth also signaled Harun’s entrance into the world and his blessing at the shrine. On a blustery day, Yamada wrapped Harun up warm and they all set off. Kyoumi and Kousuda walking together, along with Yukari as well as Shinjo Saeki.
Saeki had been the Unicorn Ambassador at the court in Shiro Mirumoto. She and Yamada had also travelled to Phoenix lands to secure the new home for the Blessed Herd. She had recently arrived in Otosan Uchi on her way south and was pleased to be included in the party.
Later, Kyoumi and Kousuda hosted everyone in their home. Tea and cakes were served as well as some hummus and flatbread.
Saeki took Harun on her lap, smiling as his hands explored the toy she had given him—a wooden horse on wheels. He also played with Saeki’s long hair, but she didn’t seem to mind. She had children of her own, she explained, all at Journey’s End Keep where many Unicorn still were.
“I do hope to bring them back here, and as many as we can manage,” she said. “Thanks mainly to you, Kousuda-san.” She nodded at him in this. His negotiations with Spider Champion Susumu Shibatsu had led to many Unicorn moving to Otosan Uchi, having a home in Rokugan while their ancestral lands were taken back. “It may be many years before the Unicorn Clan can gather on the steppes once more, but we will.”
Yamada nodded in agreement, but she felt a little awkward.
Like everyone else, she fully expects me to join the war in the spring, she thought, and I’m lying to her, and everyone else.
Yukari’s gift to Harun was a toy katana. He seemed most interested in it, which she hoped was an indication that he would go and kill some Onyx before they were all gone.
More visitors came with gifts, some Yamada had struck acquaintance with during her stay in the city. And there were some Unicorn as well, Utaku Shironaya as well as some other shiotome that had had babies that year. There were polite, making little conversation as was the nature of Utaku women. It was a strange feeling for Yamada, to feel apart from her own family.
As the Month of the Dog drew to a close, reports came through of the armies settling down for the cold months of winter. Otosan Uchi prepared for the remembrance of the dead with the Bon Festival. Rows of lanterns adorned the streets of the city and the servants gave the house a thorough cleaning.
On the morning of the festival, the entire household gathered before the family shrine. Offerings of food were made for the ancestors of the household, and those were dead who did not have family to remember them. Asahina Hiroki, a shugenja who had come for the occasion, led the prayers.
Bon was about remembering the dead, their spirits returning to speak with the living. And to Yamada, this particularly year had never felt more poignant.
Harun might never truly know his father, but perhaps from Yomi his father might know him.
The Parade of the Dead down the Emperor’s Road was something to see and they all came out to watch. Revellers danced, rattling bells and banging drums. Harun, tied securely to Yamada’s back, seemed to like watching the dragon dancers, leaping and whirling in the bright coloured silks held aloft on the poles. Of particular interest to Yamada were the Obsidian and Jade Dragons. They intertwined with each other, mirroring the others movement but in a different way. The Jade Dragon so lithe and elegant, the Obsidian wild and menacing.
And then, as the day drew to a close, many people went down to the harbour where the setting sun cast a halo that gave Golden Sun Bay its name. Small lanterns were released into the water, each having the name of a person who had died that year written on it. And as it had been another year of war and famine, many, many lanterns were set loose upon the water.
When it came time for Yamada’s turn, she put the brush in Harun’s hand and she guided it with her own to write Nakura’s name. She then set it loose on the water, watching it join the sea of light as fireworks exploded in the sky.
As autumn went on, Harun continued to thrive. He was a curious baby, content to watch things and grasp things in his reach with his tiny fists. Like the tail of the kite that had been hung to decorate a corner of Yamada's room. And he was almost always held. By Yamada, by Izumi or Sukine. And by Kyoumi or Kousuda. They said it was good practice.
Kyoumi, though, found her own pregnancy rather trying. The sickness passed but the fatigue did not. Kokoro put her on a diet of strong teas and broths to build up her energy. But this only seemed to help a little. Kyoumi, of course, insisted on continuing her duties with Kozan as usual. This caused more than a little disagreement between her and Kousuda until a compromise was reached. Kousuda had her promise to reduce the time she spent in the Imperial Palace, and to travel there by palanquin rather than walk. Kyoumi also agreed to get skilled assistance with her duties. Two scribes worked with her on rotation, taking down dictation from Kyoumi while she rested, running messages back and forward from the palace, or reading long documents for her and preparing summaries for her to read.
“I feel useless,” she said to Yamada. They sat on the terrace with Harun lying on a blanket between them, trying to eat his tiny fists. “But you do know what it’s like to feel capable, but unable.”
Yamada nodded. She had started getting back into her training and had found it very difficult at first to get back into fighting shape after the birth. At least now that Kousuda was home she could go to the Unicorn dojo some days. She even took Harun sometimes.
“It won’t be for long,” Yamada reminded her. “Just until the spring, and then you’ll have your child in your arms.”
Kyoumi gave a feeble smile and said nothing.
As autumn turned to winter, Otosan Uchi began to fil up with people arriving for the expected Imperial Court. Yamada was interested in what was going to happen over the course of the winter, but was glad to be very much on the periphery of this. Of course, staying in Kousuda and Kyoumi’s house she would be aware of what was going on.
And there were people she was looking forward to seeing. One of them she happened to encounter entirely by chance when she was out one afternoon.
She had been out to see Yukari with Harun. Things had much improved for Yukari since her marriage. She told Yamada she didn’t have to see people unless she really wanted to. Momoko had always been pressuring her younger sister to be more social, but when Yamada visited it was her husband Tatsumi who usually opened the door. He was far more open to visitors and conversation and seemed to take a delight in Harun.
Yamada was travelling back from their house, Harun secured in a sling on her back, crossing the Emperor’s Road into the Chisei District, when she saw them. The bright emerald green banners with the golden chrysanthemum and laurels. The Emerald Champion had arrived.
The crowd moved aside to let the large contingent through. Yamada moved with them trying to get a spot where she could see. First came the soldiers, in many colours all marching under the banner of the Emerald Legion, samurai and peasant marching side by side. There were waves, there were cheers. The people of Otosan Uchi had not forgotten them, back when they were the Last Legion and seemed to be the only thing between them and the hordes of the Onyx.
After the soldiers came some of the officers, some astride a horse, some on foot. And behind them, astride a white horse was the Emerald Champion himself, Kakita Karasu.
The reception he got from the crowd was slightly more muted. Not much was known about him before his appointment a year ago, and to many he seemed far too young for the position at the age of twenty. But Yamada, who had been instrumental in that, knew better. And she had hoped, hoped a lot.
She watched him as he rode by, tall and confident on the white mare. An impressive figure in the green armour of the Emerald Champion with its tassels, laurels and gold accents. The sword of the Emerald Champion at his side, his banner held aloft behind him.
What Yamada was most curious about was how the responsibility weighed on him. She remembered that afternoon a year ago at Shiro Mirumoto when she had first put the idea to him. To her surprise, the brash, flashy Kakita duellist she had met at the start of court had been truly humbled by it and the immense duty it meant. This had only helped matters.
But Karasu wasn’t betraying anything now. Beneath his green and gold helmet his expression was set and determined. Slightly detached from what was going on, but not enough to convey aloofness. Yamada watched him pass by. He didn’t see her or Harun, but then that was no surprise.
He’s probably trying to stay on that horse, she thought to herself with a wicked grin.
She turned to go, but another cheer at someone else riding by made her look back. Riding behind Karasu was an older man on a gaijin-bred war horse. He wore the purple of the Unicorn, covered in bright chain mail and his helmet had a horn on each side.
Yamada drew in a breath in surprise. That helmet, that armour, that wild Moto hair. It was unmistakable. It was the former Shogun of the Empire and founder of the Last Legion. Moto Taigo.
Yamada walked back quickly, her thoughts whirling. Her mind turning back to a year ago, back when it seemed an impossible task to get the Last Legion recognised. The price to get most of the Great Clans on their side was for the Unicorn Clan to support Akodo Kano, who at the time had declared himself Shogun of the Empire.
It was something that still did not sit well with her. To pass over the actual Shogun, Taigo. who had been appointed by the Emperor and was a member of her own clan to support Kano, someone whom most people had concerns about how far he would go to secure peace and order. By doing this, they had accomplished much, the results of which she had just witnessed. But she still wished there had been another way.
When she arrived back at Kyoumi and Kousuda’s house, Sumiko met her at the door.
“A visitor has arrived, Utaku-sama,” she said, holding Harun while Yamada removed her shoes.
“I’ll feed and settle Harun first, Sumiko,” she said, taking Harun from her. “Please convey my excuses and tell them I will be in shortly.”
It’s probably one of Kyoumi’s friends, Yamada thought when she was in her room.
When Harun was safely asleep, Yamada changed and then emerged from her room to see the guest. And she got a shock. Sitting at the table with Kyoumi and Kousuda was Doji Arami.
“Arami!” Yamada smiled in surprise. “When did you arrive? So quiet, but so very like you.”
“It is good to see you too, Yamada-san,” Arami said, standing up from the table and coming over to give her a courtly bow. “I only just arrived today, Kyoumi-san and Kousuda-san have generously invited me to stay while my residence is being made ready.” The words he said were perfectly conventional, but were spoken with a grace and elegance that at the same time did not draw attention to himself. “You are looking well,” he said.
“As are you,” said Yamada.
And different, she added in thought. Doji Arami, the quiet and unassuming courtier had walked away from Shiro Mirumoto with the post of Imperial Agriculturalist. He had spent the months since touring much of Rokugan on behalf of the Imperial Treasurer. Visiting farms, assessing the conditions of the land, talking to the peasants and assisting them with new ways of farming. But on that time on the road had had an effect, his lily-white skin had been touched by the sun. He looked thinner, leaner from the months of travelling.
But that wasn’t the only reason Arami had Yamada’s respect. Arami had been one of the signatories of the Shogun Treaty and the Last Legion Treaty, and an invaluable help to Yamada with the latter as she had written it herself and had needed help with the language.
And through the network of contacts he had made with the Emperor’s Chosen, he had saved the life of the peasant general Hikahime when she had been on trial for her life before the Emperor. Had Arami not helped, had Hikahime been executed, the Legion would likely have rebelled. Yamada may have been the one who was able to get the legion legitimized, by it was Arami who had saved it.
But all of this and the more he had done seemed quite removed from Arami’s demeanour. He was full of gifts, some special daifuku that was the first of a new recipe he had managed to get from a peasant far to the south in Crane lands. They had some at the end of their meal and it was soft, sweet, and very good. There was also a little jar of honey for Harun, rare and as precious as gold in these times of famine and want.
Arami was full of stories as well, telling of his travels in the lands of the Crane and Lion clans that he was able to visit. Speaking of the places he had visited and the people he had met.
“Many were happy to see that they had not been completely forgotten,” he said. “The harvest should be slightly better this year, but there is hope for next year and the year after.”
And hope is all we have for that, thought Yamada. Aloud, she said, “I assume you are quite a rider now, Arami-san,” she said. The Unicorn had shown their gratitude for him saving Hikahime by giving him a horse. A placid mare named Mari. Yamada had also made sure that Arami had a groom that travelled with him that could show him how to take care of his horse as well as show him how to ride.
The Doji gave a small smile. “The groom you sent with me, Sesuke, has been very patient with me,” he said. “It was a little slow at first, but with Mari’s faithful service I have been able to cover far more distance. I cannot thank you and your clan enough, Yamada-san.”
“It is we who should be thanking you, Arami,” said Yamada sincerely. “First you save the legion, now you save Rokugan.”
“Indeed,” said Kousuda, nodding in agreement.
“Thank you,” was all Arami could say.
Seeing Arami was a little embarrassed at all this praise, Yamada changed the subject.
“I saw Karasu-sama coming in,” she said. “In the full Emerald Champion regalia. Some of the Legion were with him, it was something to see.”
“Oh yes, Sumiko said the whole street was talking about it,” said Kyoumi. “I sent Izumi with a note to invite him here, but he sent one back saying he would call by later.
“He did?” Yamada asked, a little surprised.
There was a knock at the door and Izumi went to answer it.
When Karasu arrived, it was early evening. Izumi opened the door and she immediately dropped to her knees and pressed her face to the floor as was appropriate for meeting the Emperor’s Champion. When Karasu bid her to rise, she led him into the room and formally introduced him.
Everyone rose from the table and bowed formally to Karasu. How he reacted to this, Yamada couldn’t tell as Karasu’s on was impenetrable. It was still him, the weight of power and responsibility had not changed him much. But there was an effect, that couldn’t be denied, and this was only more noticeable as the evening went on. There was a distance between him and everyone else, a formality where there had once been easy camaraderie. Even between Karasu and Kyoumi who had been close. Karasu had changed, not too much, but enough.
He of course had changed out of his armour and the attire he wore was not formal, but clearly showed his difference in station. He wore a juban of a pale yellow with black hakama, covering that was a quilted jacket of emerald green.
Tea was served with some of Arami’s daifuku and the conversation turned a little lighter, led mostly by Kousuda. He asked Karasu about the Legion, of which Karasu was more than happy to speak of.
“When we arrived it was a little…mixed,” he told them. “The Legion was legitimised, we had supplies and weapons…but there was also the change in leadership.”
“I was worried about that,” Yamada confessed. “But it does look as if you managed to solve that. I noticed Moto Taigo rode in with in you.”
Kousuda’s eyes grew round with surprise and he swallowed his tea quickly. “Moto Taigo! You didn’t say he was with you!”
Karasu managed a slight smile that still didn’t break his on. “His help had been invaluable, him and Hikahime,” he said. “I still have a lot to learn from them, from both of them.”
Yamada nodded in approval. This was what she had been hoping for. A year ago when he had been appointed Emerald Champion, but he had been open to learning and in time would become the leader that the Legion needed.
Providing of course he wins the tournament, Yamada added in thought.
“How did things go with the Shogun?” Yamada asked. “Have you met with Akodo Kano-sama?”
“Well…” Karasu trailed off, deep in thought. “Let’s just say they could have gone better, and could have gone a lot worse,” he said. “We did manage to agree on terms though, and boundaries. The old Last Legion would become the new Emerald Legion, staying as it was. His army and any that the clans would send to him in support would form the rest of the Imperial Legions, with far more traditional organisation.”
“The Emerald Legions aren’t taking new recruits?” Kyoumi asked.
“We are, but only those who are free to volunteer themselves,” explained Karasu. “We’ve had a fair few Phoenix fleeing the turmoil in their lands, peasant and samurai, bushi and shugenja.”
There was a soft cry from Yamada’s room. It was Harun, he was awake and needed feeding. Karasu met her eye for a moment, a curious expression on his face that she couldn’t quite identify. She gave him a small smile, then excused herself to leave and tend to Harun.
As always, Harun was calmed by the sight of her and settled quickly on her breast. She tried to treasure every moment she spent with her son, right up until the day when she would have to leave him behind and she would no longer be his mother.
But now Karasu was here, that future was beginning to change shape. And almost before she was ready for it. Could she do it? It wasn’t really a choice. She had given her word to Michio, and now he was under the power of the Obsidian Dragon that promise mattered more.
Harun would have a good life. A father, and a mother now Karasu had married Asako Hitomi, brothers and sisters from the war orphans they would adopt. He would want for nothing.
But still, when she thought of that she felt the urge to hold Harun even tighter. Not to let him go. She looked down at him in her arms, his soft brown eyes looking up at her sleepily.
“This is the way it has to be, Harun-kun,” she said to her son. “And I guess a good start would be now.”
Yamada wrapped a white blanket around him.
“Let’s go and see your father,” she said, carrying him out with her.
Harun’s arrival in Yamada’s arms was met with smiled and sighs. Harun just seemed content to watch them all, his soft brown eyes taking in everything. She sat down at the table next to Arami. He turned towards them, holding the end of his fan out so the tassel dangled. Harun’s eyes watched it move, his chubby hands grabbed at it.
“Such quickness,” Arami remarked. “He’ll be a duellist yet.” He looked at Harun’s dark hands, perfect in their tininess. “He favours your Moto father, I am guessing?”
Yamada nodded. “I was hoping for that, a little,” she said. “None of us did, from myself or my older sisters.” She looked sad for a moment. “He does have Nakura’s eyes,” she said, smiling a little.
Karasu had been sitting quietly at the end of the table. Just watching, saying nothing. Again there was that expression on his face. A sort of softness, gentleness that Yamada had not seen in him. There was something else there too, a sort of amazement or wonder, as if something was slowly dawning on him.
“Would you like to hold him?” Yamada asked. But she already knew the answer.
She placed her son in Karasu’s arms. He seemed a little nervous at first, holding Harun as if he were fragile and could shatter like glass.
But then, gradually, he felt a little more confident. Gently, he stroked Harun’s curly black hair, gently touched his cheek, let Harun’s tiny hand clasp his finger.
Karasu whispered gently in Harun’s ear, his words with the softness of a butterfly’s kiss. “Hello, my son.”
And Harun, happy, warm and safe where he was, fell asleep in Karasu’s arms with a smile on his face.
Karasu looked up, his on completely gone from his face, the raw emotion having replaced it. In his face wasn’t just the respect of a person who would keep a promise, in there she saw a new father. There was the tenderness and love he would give Harun. There was also the fierce steel that would protect Harun from harm.
Kyoumi saw it too, she and Yamada met eyes across the table. Reassuring, comforting. Perhaps, at least for Harun, everything would be all right.
Kyoumi retired early, Arami went with Kousuda into the study to talk over trade and agricultural figures. Karasu went to leave, but Yamada wanted to talk to him first. So, after Yamada put Harun to bed, she joined Karasu outside on the terrace.
Out there, the air was chilly but perfectly still. The garden shone bright in the pale moonlight, the leaves and stones white with frost.
Karasu stood still, leaning against a pillar, the emerald green of his quilted jacket looked pale and sickly in the moonlight.
“I’m guessing you went to the palace after I saw you ride in,” said Yamada, her breath coming out in clouds in the cold air. “Is that where you are staying for court?”
“No,” Karasu said. “I’m at the barracks. Easier if there’s news and the tournament will be there.”
He was quiet, but Yamada knew what he was thinking.
“You’re going to win,” she told him. “Don’t worry about it.”
“That’s not all,” he told her. “Even if I do win, the result is not going to be as legitimate as it should. The Great Clans will send who they can spare, which is not the same as sending their best.” He looked at her, seeing the concern on his face. “Don’t worry, I’m confident I can make it go right in the end. So much of this job is about appearance, at least while I am here.”
“I think you know how to do that better than I do,” Yamada said quietly.
Karasu laughed, and it felt good to hear it. It lessened the distance between them a little.
“To be perfectly honest,” said Karasu. “I like this, this responsibility I’ve been given.” He sounded a little excited. “To serve, to help, to be of real use, to fight and to end this war.” He looked at Yamada again. “I only wish I could ask for your help, Yamada. Quite a few of the Legion know about you and what you have done, Hikahime saw to that. But to have you with our cavalry…”
Yamada pictured it in her mind. Riding Yoru at the head of a cavalry charge against the Onyx.
Oh, to be there…
She quickly dismissed it from her mind.
“I wish I could accept,” she said, truly meaning it. “But we all have our duties, our part to play. We have to fight this war, and end it so the children do not have to fight it for us.” She looked up at the moon. “I hope Harun will never have to fight in it.”
“So do I, Yamada,” said Karasu, his voice grave and solemn. “So do I.”
Chapter 4
The month that followed was a bit of a blur to Yamada. Kyoumi, Koko, and even Kousuda were constantly urging her to rest. And given Yamada was up through the night feeding Harun, she didn’t have a lot of energy to fight them.
Kokoro visited constantly, always with Nibui in tow who was very much subdued towards Yamada. The massive bruise around her eye she had had from when Yamada had struck her took a while to fade.
Just before the month of confinement was up, Kokoro examined her and pronounced her fit and healthy. But warned her that some of the changes that her body had undergone from carrying a child could be permanent.
“And you should not find it hard at all to bear more children,” she said confidently. “As long as everything went as it did before.”
“There will be no more children,” said Yamada. Her voice had a finality and coldness that even Kokoro did not question.
There might have been, once, added Yamada in thought once Kokoro had gone.
She looked down at Harun sleeping soundly on the tatami mat, his tiny little fist clutching the soft white blanket that covered him. So beautiful, so peaceful and innocent sleeping there. She loved every day she spent with him, but now each day was one closer to when she would have to leave him.
She touched his cheek, gently stroked his hair. Her promise to Michio, so easily made. But now…
When Yamada emerged from her confinement, the dying warmth of summer had been replaced by the chilly winds of autumn. The skies above Otosan Uchi were often grey and windswept, the maple trees shedding their leaves. But there was still colour. Kyoumi’s camellias were beginning to bloom, filling the garden with their white, pink and red blossoms.
A month on from his birth also signaled Harun’s entrance into the world and his blessing at the shrine. On a blustery day, Yamada wrapped Harun up warm and they all set off. Kyoumi and Kousuda walking together, along with Yukari as well as Shinjo Saeki.
Saeki had been the Unicorn Ambassador at the court in Shiro Mirumoto. She and Yamada had also travelled to Phoenix lands to secure the new home for the Blessed Herd. She had recently arrived in Otosan Uchi on her way south and was pleased to be included in the party.
Later, Kyoumi and Kousuda hosted everyone in their home. Tea and cakes were served as well as some hummus and flatbread.
Saeki took Harun on her lap, smiling as his hands explored the toy she had given him—a wooden horse on wheels. He also played with Saeki’s long hair, but she didn’t seem to mind. She had children of her own, she explained, all at Journey’s End Keep where many Unicorn still were.
“I do hope to bring them back here, and as many as we can manage,” she said. “Thanks mainly to you, Kousuda-san.” She nodded at him in this. His negotiations with Spider Champion Susumu Shibatsu had led to many Unicorn moving to Otosan Uchi, having a home in Rokugan while their ancestral lands were taken back. “It may be many years before the Unicorn Clan can gather on the steppes once more, but we will.”
Yamada nodded in agreement, but she felt a little awkward.
Like everyone else, she fully expects me to join the war in the spring, she thought, and I’m lying to her, and everyone else.
Yukari’s gift to Harun was a toy katana. He seemed most interested in it, which she hoped was an indication that he would go and kill some Onyx before they were all gone.
More visitors came with gifts, some Yamada had struck acquaintance with during her stay in the city. And there were some Unicorn as well, Utaku Shironaya as well as some other shiotome that had had babies that year. There were polite, making little conversation as was the nature of Utaku women. It was a strange feeling for Yamada, to feel apart from her own family.
As the Month of the Dog drew to a close, reports came through of the armies settling down for the cold months of winter. Otosan Uchi prepared for the remembrance of the dead with the Bon Festival. Rows of lanterns adorned the streets of the city and the servants gave the house a thorough cleaning.
On the morning of the festival, the entire household gathered before the family shrine. Offerings of food were made for the ancestors of the household, and those were dead who did not have family to remember them. Asahina Hiroki, a shugenja who had come for the occasion, led the prayers.
Bon was about remembering the dead, their spirits returning to speak with the living. And to Yamada, this particularly year had never felt more poignant.
Harun might never truly know his father, but perhaps from Yomi his father might know him.
The Parade of the Dead down the Emperor’s Road was something to see and they all came out to watch. Revellers danced, rattling bells and banging drums. Harun, tied securely to Yamada’s back, seemed to like watching the dragon dancers, leaping and whirling in the bright coloured silks held aloft on the poles. Of particular interest to Yamada were the Obsidian and Jade Dragons. They intertwined with each other, mirroring the others movement but in a different way. The Jade Dragon so lithe and elegant, the Obsidian wild and menacing.
And then, as the day drew to a close, many people went down to the harbour where the setting sun cast a halo that gave Golden Sun Bay its name. Small lanterns were released into the water, each having the name of a person who had died that year written on it. And as it had been another year of war and famine, many, many lanterns were set loose upon the water.
When it came time for Yamada’s turn, she put the brush in Harun’s hand and she guided it with her own to write Nakura’s name. She then set it loose on the water, watching it join the sea of light as fireworks exploded in the sky.
As autumn went on, Harun continued to thrive. He was a curious baby, content to watch things and grasp things in his reach with his tiny fists. Like the tail of the kite that had been hung to decorate a corner of Yamada's room. And he was almost always held. By Yamada, by Izumi or Sukine. And by Kyoumi or Kousuda. They said it was good practice.
Kyoumi, though, found her own pregnancy rather trying. The sickness passed but the fatigue did not. Kokoro put her on a diet of strong teas and broths to build up her energy. But this only seemed to help a little. Kyoumi, of course, insisted on continuing her duties with Kozan as usual. This caused more than a little disagreement between her and Kousuda until a compromise was reached. Kousuda had her promise to reduce the time she spent in the Imperial Palace, and to travel there by palanquin rather than walk. Kyoumi also agreed to get skilled assistance with her duties. Two scribes worked with her on rotation, taking down dictation from Kyoumi while she rested, running messages back and forward from the palace, or reading long documents for her and preparing summaries for her to read.
“I feel useless,” she said to Yamada. They sat on the terrace with Harun lying on a blanket between them, trying to eat his tiny fists. “But you do know what it’s like to feel capable, but unable.”
Yamada nodded. She had started getting back into her training and had found it very difficult at first to get back into fighting shape after the birth. At least now that Kousuda was home she could go to the Unicorn dojo some days. She even took Harun sometimes.
“It won’t be for long,” Yamada reminded her. “Just until the spring, and then you’ll have your child in your arms.”
Kyoumi gave a feeble smile and said nothing.
As autumn turned to winter, Otosan Uchi began to fil up with people arriving for the expected Imperial Court. Yamada was interested in what was going to happen over the course of the winter, but was glad to be very much on the periphery of this. Of course, staying in Kousuda and Kyoumi’s house she would be aware of what was going on.
And there were people she was looking forward to seeing. One of them she happened to encounter entirely by chance when she was out one afternoon.
She had been out to see Yukari with Harun. Things had much improved for Yukari since her marriage. She told Yamada she didn’t have to see people unless she really wanted to. Momoko had always been pressuring her younger sister to be more social, but when Yamada visited it was her husband Tatsumi who usually opened the door. He was far more open to visitors and conversation and seemed to take a delight in Harun.
Yamada was travelling back from their house, Harun secured in a sling on her back, crossing the Emperor’s Road into the Chisei District, when she saw them. The bright emerald green banners with the golden chrysanthemum and laurels. The Emerald Champion had arrived.
The crowd moved aside to let the large contingent through. Yamada moved with them trying to get a spot where she could see. First came the soldiers, in many colours all marching under the banner of the Emerald Legion, samurai and peasant marching side by side. There were waves, there were cheers. The people of Otosan Uchi had not forgotten them, back when they were the Last Legion and seemed to be the only thing between them and the hordes of the Onyx.
After the soldiers came some of the officers, some astride a horse, some on foot. And behind them, astride a white horse was the Emerald Champion himself, Kakita Karasu.
The reception he got from the crowd was slightly more muted. Not much was known about him before his appointment a year ago, and to many he seemed far too young for the position at the age of twenty. But Yamada, who had been instrumental in that, knew better. And she had hoped, hoped a lot.
She watched him as he rode by, tall and confident on the white mare. An impressive figure in the green armour of the Emerald Champion with its tassels, laurels and gold accents. The sword of the Emerald Champion at his side, his banner held aloft behind him.
What Yamada was most curious about was how the responsibility weighed on him. She remembered that afternoon a year ago at Shiro Mirumoto when she had first put the idea to him. To her surprise, the brash, flashy Kakita duellist she had met at the start of court had been truly humbled by it and the immense duty it meant. This had only helped matters.
But Karasu wasn’t betraying anything now. Beneath his green and gold helmet his expression was set and determined. Slightly detached from what was going on, but not enough to convey aloofness. Yamada watched him pass by. He didn’t see her or Harun, but then that was no surprise.
He’s probably trying to stay on that horse, she thought to herself with a wicked grin.
She turned to go, but another cheer at someone else riding by made her look back. Riding behind Karasu was an older man on a gaijin-bred war horse. He wore the purple of the Unicorn, covered in bright chain mail and his helmet had a horn on each side.
Yamada drew in a breath in surprise. That helmet, that armour, that wild Moto hair. It was unmistakable. It was the former Shogun of the Empire and founder of the Last Legion. Moto Taigo.
Yamada walked back quickly, her thoughts whirling. Her mind turning back to a year ago, back when it seemed an impossible task to get the Last Legion recognised. The price to get most of the Great Clans on their side was for the Unicorn Clan to support Akodo Kano, who at the time had declared himself Shogun of the Empire.
It was something that still did not sit well with her. To pass over the actual Shogun, Taigo. who had been appointed by the Emperor and was a member of her own clan to support Kano, someone whom most people had concerns about how far he would go to secure peace and order. By doing this, they had accomplished much, the results of which she had just witnessed. But she still wished there had been another way.
When she arrived back at Kyoumi and Kousuda’s house, Sumiko met her at the door.
“A visitor has arrived, Utaku-sama,” she said, holding Harun while Yamada removed her shoes.
“I’ll feed and settle Harun first, Sumiko,” she said, taking Harun from her. “Please convey my excuses and tell them I will be in shortly.”
It’s probably one of Kyoumi’s friends, Yamada thought when she was in her room.
When Harun was safely asleep, Yamada changed and then emerged from her room to see the guest. And she got a shock. Sitting at the table with Kyoumi and Kousuda was Doji Arami.
“Arami!” Yamada smiled in surprise. “When did you arrive? So quiet, but so very like you.”
“It is good to see you too, Yamada-san,” Arami said, standing up from the table and coming over to give her a courtly bow. “I only just arrived today, Kyoumi-san and Kousuda-san have generously invited me to stay while my residence is being made ready.” The words he said were perfectly conventional, but were spoken with a grace and elegance that at the same time did not draw attention to himself. “You are looking well,” he said.
“As are you,” said Yamada.
And different, she added in thought. Doji Arami, the quiet and unassuming courtier had walked away from Shiro Mirumoto with the post of Imperial Agriculturalist. He had spent the months since touring much of Rokugan on behalf of the Imperial Treasurer. Visiting farms, assessing the conditions of the land, talking to the peasants and assisting them with new ways of farming. But on that time on the road had had an effect, his lily-white skin had been touched by the sun. He looked thinner, leaner from the months of travelling.
But that wasn’t the only reason Arami had Yamada’s respect. Arami had been one of the signatories of the Shogun Treaty and the Last Legion Treaty, and an invaluable help to Yamada with the latter as she had written it herself and had needed help with the language.
And through the network of contacts he had made with the Emperor’s Chosen, he had saved the life of the peasant general Hikahime when she had been on trial for her life before the Emperor. Had Arami not helped, had Hikahime been executed, the Legion would likely have rebelled. Yamada may have been the one who was able to get the legion legitimized, by it was Arami who had saved it.
But all of this and the more he had done seemed quite removed from Arami’s demeanour. He was full of gifts, some special daifuku that was the first of a new recipe he had managed to get from a peasant far to the south in Crane lands. They had some at the end of their meal and it was soft, sweet, and very good. There was also a little jar of honey for Harun, rare and as precious as gold in these times of famine and want.
Arami was full of stories as well, telling of his travels in the lands of the Crane and Lion clans that he was able to visit. Speaking of the places he had visited and the people he had met.
“Many were happy to see that they had not been completely forgotten,” he said. “The harvest should be slightly better this year, but there is hope for next year and the year after.”
And hope is all we have for that, thought Yamada. Aloud, she said, “I assume you are quite a rider now, Arami-san,” she said. The Unicorn had shown their gratitude for him saving Hikahime by giving him a horse. A placid mare named Mari. Yamada had also made sure that Arami had a groom that travelled with him that could show him how to take care of his horse as well as show him how to ride.
The Doji gave a small smile. “The groom you sent with me, Sesuke, has been very patient with me,” he said. “It was a little slow at first, but with Mari’s faithful service I have been able to cover far more distance. I cannot thank you and your clan enough, Yamada-san.”
“It is we who should be thanking you, Arami,” said Yamada sincerely. “First you save the legion, now you save Rokugan.”
“Indeed,” said Kousuda, nodding in agreement.
“Thank you,” was all Arami could say.
Seeing Arami was a little embarrassed at all this praise, Yamada changed the subject.
“I saw Karasu-sama coming in,” she said. “In the full Emerald Champion regalia. Some of the Legion were with him, it was something to see.”
“Oh yes, Sumiko said the whole street was talking about it,” said Kyoumi. “I sent Izumi with a note to invite him here, but he sent one back saying he would call by later.
“He did?” Yamada asked, a little surprised.
There was a knock at the door and Izumi went to answer it.
When Karasu arrived, it was early evening. Izumi opened the door and she immediately dropped to her knees and pressed her face to the floor as was appropriate for meeting the Emperor’s Champion. When Karasu bid her to rise, she led him into the room and formally introduced him.
Everyone rose from the table and bowed formally to Karasu. How he reacted to this, Yamada couldn’t tell as Karasu’s on was impenetrable. It was still him, the weight of power and responsibility had not changed him much. But there was an effect, that couldn’t be denied, and this was only more noticeable as the evening went on. There was a distance between him and everyone else, a formality where there had once been easy camaraderie. Even between Karasu and Kyoumi who had been close. Karasu had changed, not too much, but enough.
He of course had changed out of his armour and the attire he wore was not formal, but clearly showed his difference in station. He wore a juban of a pale yellow with black hakama, covering that was a quilted jacket of emerald green.
Tea was served with some of Arami’s daifuku and the conversation turned a little lighter, led mostly by Kousuda. He asked Karasu about the Legion, of which Karasu was more than happy to speak of.
“When we arrived it was a little…mixed,” he told them. “The Legion was legitimised, we had supplies and weapons…but there was also the change in leadership.”
“I was worried about that,” Yamada confessed. “But it does look as if you managed to solve that. I noticed Moto Taigo rode in with in you.”
Kousuda’s eyes grew round with surprise and he swallowed his tea quickly. “Moto Taigo! You didn’t say he was with you!”
Karasu managed a slight smile that still didn’t break his on. “His help had been invaluable, him and Hikahime,” he said. “I still have a lot to learn from them, from both of them.”
Yamada nodded in approval. This was what she had been hoping for. A year ago when he had been appointed Emerald Champion, but he had been open to learning and in time would become the leader that the Legion needed.
Providing of course he wins the tournament, Yamada added in thought.
“How did things go with the Shogun?” Yamada asked. “Have you met with Akodo Kano-sama?”
“Well…” Karasu trailed off, deep in thought. “Let’s just say they could have gone better, and could have gone a lot worse,” he said. “We did manage to agree on terms though, and boundaries. The old Last Legion would become the new Emerald Legion, staying as it was. His army and any that the clans would send to him in support would form the rest of the Imperial Legions, with far more traditional organisation.”
“The Emerald Legions aren’t taking new recruits?” Kyoumi asked.
“We are, but only those who are free to volunteer themselves,” explained Karasu. “We’ve had a fair few Phoenix fleeing the turmoil in their lands, peasant and samurai, bushi and shugenja.”
There was a soft cry from Yamada’s room. It was Harun, he was awake and needed feeding. Karasu met her eye for a moment, a curious expression on his face that she couldn’t quite identify. She gave him a small smile, then excused herself to leave and tend to Harun.
As always, Harun was calmed by the sight of her and settled quickly on her breast. She tried to treasure every moment she spent with her son, right up until the day when she would have to leave him behind and she would no longer be his mother.
But now Karasu was here, that future was beginning to change shape. And almost before she was ready for it. Could she do it? It wasn’t really a choice. She had given her word to Michio, and now he was under the power of the Obsidian Dragon that promise mattered more.
Harun would have a good life. A father, and a mother now Karasu had married Asako Hitomi, brothers and sisters from the war orphans they would adopt. He would want for nothing.
But still, when she thought of that she felt the urge to hold Harun even tighter. Not to let him go. She looked down at him in her arms, his soft brown eyes looking up at her sleepily.
“This is the way it has to be, Harun-kun,” she said to her son. “And I guess a good start would be now.”
Yamada wrapped a white blanket around him.
“Let’s go and see your father,” she said, carrying him out with her.
Harun’s arrival in Yamada’s arms was met with smiled and sighs. Harun just seemed content to watch them all, his soft brown eyes taking in everything. She sat down at the table next to Arami. He turned towards them, holding the end of his fan out so the tassel dangled. Harun’s eyes watched it move, his chubby hands grabbed at it.
“Such quickness,” Arami remarked. “He’ll be a duellist yet.” He looked at Harun’s dark hands, perfect in their tininess. “He favours your Moto father, I am guessing?”
Yamada nodded. “I was hoping for that, a little,” she said. “None of us did, from myself or my older sisters.” She looked sad for a moment. “He does have Nakura’s eyes,” she said, smiling a little.
Karasu had been sitting quietly at the end of the table. Just watching, saying nothing. Again there was that expression on his face. A sort of softness, gentleness that Yamada had not seen in him. There was something else there too, a sort of amazement or wonder, as if something was slowly dawning on him.
“Would you like to hold him?” Yamada asked. But she already knew the answer.
She placed her son in Karasu’s arms. He seemed a little nervous at first, holding Harun as if he were fragile and could shatter like glass.
But then, gradually, he felt a little more confident. Gently, he stroked Harun’s curly black hair, gently touched his cheek, let Harun’s tiny hand clasp his finger.
Karasu whispered gently in Harun’s ear, his words with the softness of a butterfly’s kiss. “Hello, my son.”
And Harun, happy, warm and safe where he was, fell asleep in Karasu’s arms with a smile on his face.
Karasu looked up, his on completely gone from his face, the raw emotion having replaced it. In his face wasn’t just the respect of a person who would keep a promise, in there she saw a new father. There was the tenderness and love he would give Harun. There was also the fierce steel that would protect Harun from harm.
Kyoumi saw it too, she and Yamada met eyes across the table. Reassuring, comforting. Perhaps, at least for Harun, everything would be all right.
Kyoumi retired early, Arami went with Kousuda into the study to talk over trade and agricultural figures. Karasu went to leave, but Yamada wanted to talk to him first. So, after Yamada put Harun to bed, she joined Karasu outside on the terrace.
Out there, the air was chilly but perfectly still. The garden shone bright in the pale moonlight, the leaves and stones white with frost.
Karasu stood still, leaning against a pillar, the emerald green of his quilted jacket looked pale and sickly in the moonlight.
“I’m guessing you went to the palace after I saw you ride in,” said Yamada, her breath coming out in clouds in the cold air. “Is that where you are staying for court?”
“No,” Karasu said. “I’m at the barracks. Easier if there’s news and the tournament will be there.”
He was quiet, but Yamada knew what he was thinking.
“You’re going to win,” she told him. “Don’t worry about it.”
“That’s not all,” he told her. “Even if I do win, the result is not going to be as legitimate as it should. The Great Clans will send who they can spare, which is not the same as sending their best.” He looked at her, seeing the concern on his face. “Don’t worry, I’m confident I can make it go right in the end. So much of this job is about appearance, at least while I am here.”
“I think you know how to do that better than I do,” Yamada said quietly.
Karasu laughed, and it felt good to hear it. It lessened the distance between them a little.
“To be perfectly honest,” said Karasu. “I like this, this responsibility I’ve been given.” He sounded a little excited. “To serve, to help, to be of real use, to fight and to end this war.” He looked at Yamada again. “I only wish I could ask for your help, Yamada. Quite a few of the Legion know about you and what you have done, Hikahime saw to that. But to have you with our cavalry…”
Yamada pictured it in her mind. Riding Yoru at the head of a cavalry charge against the Onyx.
Oh, to be there…
She quickly dismissed it from her mind.
“I wish I could accept,” she said, truly meaning it. “But we all have our duties, our part to play. We have to fight this war, and end it so the children do not have to fight it for us.” She looked up at the moon. “I hope Harun will never have to fight in it.”
“So do I, Yamada,” said Karasu, his voice grave and solemn. “So do I.”