The Emperor's Road
by Kakita Kaori
The Emperor’s Road, naturally, passed the outskirts of Golden Petal Village. Who could deny the mighty the opportunity to see the cassia in summer? Frequent caravans traveled from the south, from Kosaten Shiro and the richly productive rice paddies around it, north to Kuyden Kakita. From there, the road continued west to Western Hub Village and Otosan Uchi beyond it. The Emperor’s Road, however, was far enough from the village the heimen or those who wished to truly meditate upon the trees were not disturbed, and most travelers hurried on to the more luxurious welcome that awaited them under the hospitality of the Kakita Daimyo and his people.
A large caravan of wagons slowly rumbled along that same road northwards towards the keep, swaying with the lumbering steps of the oxen that pulled it. It was heavily guarded. The farmers in the nearby fields, knee-deep in the flooded rice paddies to either side of the road, did not look up from their planting. But Doji Ienobu, the village assistant magistrate, stood dutifully to the side of the road as he watched it pass.
Four years ago, a caravan such at this would need barely a handful of guards. But that was before the tsunami had devastated much of the Crane coastline, taking more lives than he could imagine and devastating the fertile lowlands. The specter of famine haunted the peasants now, even in regions far inland untouched by the tsunami such as Golden Petal Village. The Crane and the Crab had pleaded with the Emperor for a temporary reprieve on the taxes due, but no mercy had been granted either clan. Honor demanded that the Crane obey. Now Takuetsu and Kosaten provinces bore the weight of providing the tax for the whole clan, while all faced hunger, or worse. Golden Petal Villagers were proud of their heritage and the clan that protected them. But Ienobu knew that at least a few villagers resented the sacks of grain they loaded for the Emperor’s tax levy. It was only late spring. More would feel that anger by winter.
One of the guardsmen, a Daidoji carrying a triple-headed spear, nodded his head at the Doji magistrate, and called up to him. “How fares Golden Petal?”
“Well. We are halfway through planting and the seedlings are healthy. If you return this way, the planting will be done and you can see the trees in full bloom.”
The Daidoji nodded, wiping his forehead with the side of his thumb. “I will see if I get the chance. Have there been any reports of bandits?”
Ienobu straightened. “The sonchou of Golden Petal is of the line of Masarugi, a kenshinzen and instructor at the Academy. I am not unskilled, and the guards at the Kuyden are nearby. Bandits would have to be desperate indeed to dare show themselves in our bounds. But, Hai. There have been rumors of bandits on the edge of Imperial lands. They grow bolder.”
“I will let the caravan master know. Thank you…Doji-san?”
“Ienobu. Who shall I look out for, should you return this way?”
“Nerishma. Until then.” With a salute, the Daidoji guardsman continued on his way, following the rumbling ox carts.”
The second to last wagon was rolling past when Ienobu heard a soft step behind him. “It would take a bold bandit indeed to assault a caravan on the Imperial road.”
Doji Ienobu turned. Standing nearby was a ronin, dressed in a long black cloak with a straw hat hiding her features. She carried a bright naginata, and was turned away, watching the caravan moving northwards. He could not see her face.
“Bold. Or hungry. We hope this planting leads to better harvests.”
The ronin nodded, her straw hat dipping in acknowledgement. After a moment, she responded, “In either case, the caravan will need to be well-guarded.” She deftly spun her naginata up onto her shoulder and walked away, moving quickly to catch up to the caravan master’s wagon, likely to seek employment. Threats of bandits nearby meant good wages to traveling ronin.
When the last wagon passed, Ienobu turned away. He needed to patrol the town and make certain there were no other ronin hanging around. He should have been warned before this one even had arrived, but with the peasants all in the fields, the village itself was mostly empty.
He would need to pay better attention in the future. It was just a prickle on the back of his neck, maybe. The tsunami had torn the Crane lands apart, but by now it should be beginning to get better. But some buried instinct deep inside warned Ienobu that, for some reason, things would only be getting worse.
It was up to him to make sure Golden Petal Village was ready.
The Emperor’s Road, naturally, passed the outskirts of Golden Petal Village. Who could deny the mighty the opportunity to see the cassia in summer? Frequent caravans traveled from the south, from Kosaten Shiro and the richly productive rice paddies around it, north to Kuyden Kakita. From there, the road continued west to Western Hub Village and Otosan Uchi beyond it. The Emperor’s Road, however, was far enough from the village the heimen or those who wished to truly meditate upon the trees were not disturbed, and most travelers hurried on to the more luxurious welcome that awaited them under the hospitality of the Kakita Daimyo and his people.
A large caravan of wagons slowly rumbled along that same road northwards towards the keep, swaying with the lumbering steps of the oxen that pulled it. It was heavily guarded. The farmers in the nearby fields, knee-deep in the flooded rice paddies to either side of the road, did not look up from their planting. But Doji Ienobu, the village assistant magistrate, stood dutifully to the side of the road as he watched it pass.
Four years ago, a caravan such at this would need barely a handful of guards. But that was before the tsunami had devastated much of the Crane coastline, taking more lives than he could imagine and devastating the fertile lowlands. The specter of famine haunted the peasants now, even in regions far inland untouched by the tsunami such as Golden Petal Village. The Crane and the Crab had pleaded with the Emperor for a temporary reprieve on the taxes due, but no mercy had been granted either clan. Honor demanded that the Crane obey. Now Takuetsu and Kosaten provinces bore the weight of providing the tax for the whole clan, while all faced hunger, or worse. Golden Petal Villagers were proud of their heritage and the clan that protected them. But Ienobu knew that at least a few villagers resented the sacks of grain they loaded for the Emperor’s tax levy. It was only late spring. More would feel that anger by winter.
One of the guardsmen, a Daidoji carrying a triple-headed spear, nodded his head at the Doji magistrate, and called up to him. “How fares Golden Petal?”
“Well. We are halfway through planting and the seedlings are healthy. If you return this way, the planting will be done and you can see the trees in full bloom.”
The Daidoji nodded, wiping his forehead with the side of his thumb. “I will see if I get the chance. Have there been any reports of bandits?”
Ienobu straightened. “The sonchou of Golden Petal is of the line of Masarugi, a kenshinzen and instructor at the Academy. I am not unskilled, and the guards at the Kuyden are nearby. Bandits would have to be desperate indeed to dare show themselves in our bounds. But, Hai. There have been rumors of bandits on the edge of Imperial lands. They grow bolder.”
“I will let the caravan master know. Thank you…Doji-san?”
“Ienobu. Who shall I look out for, should you return this way?”
“Nerishma. Until then.” With a salute, the Daidoji guardsman continued on his way, following the rumbling ox carts.”
The second to last wagon was rolling past when Ienobu heard a soft step behind him. “It would take a bold bandit indeed to assault a caravan on the Imperial road.”
Doji Ienobu turned. Standing nearby was a ronin, dressed in a long black cloak with a straw hat hiding her features. She carried a bright naginata, and was turned away, watching the caravan moving northwards. He could not see her face.
“Bold. Or hungry. We hope this planting leads to better harvests.”
The ronin nodded, her straw hat dipping in acknowledgement. After a moment, she responded, “In either case, the caravan will need to be well-guarded.” She deftly spun her naginata up onto her shoulder and walked away, moving quickly to catch up to the caravan master’s wagon, likely to seek employment. Threats of bandits nearby meant good wages to traveling ronin.
When the last wagon passed, Ienobu turned away. He needed to patrol the town and make certain there were no other ronin hanging around. He should have been warned before this one even had arrived, but with the peasants all in the fields, the village itself was mostly empty.
He would need to pay better attention in the future. It was just a prickle on the back of his neck, maybe. The tsunami had torn the Crane lands apart, but by now it should be beginning to get better. But some buried instinct deep inside warned Ienobu that, for some reason, things would only be getting worse.
It was up to him to make sure Golden Petal Village was ready.
