“Even though Fu Leng was wicked, there were
those who still loved him,” Unmei continued. “Shinjo, most of all, prayed that
her brother could be saved. The Clan of the Ki-Rin valued loyalty and unity,
virtues that sometimes left them unprepared for the treachery of others…”
• • •
The Hand of Peace
by Seth
Mason
Wind was
such a curious thing. On a hilltop near the northern mountains of the fledgling
Empire, a woman threaded her fingers through the wind as it passed her by. In
her home among the Celestial Heavens, the woman had never felt such a fierce
blast of air. There the wind had been a gentle breeze that was never too cool
or too warm.
Shinjo was
not sure yet if she missed the wind in the Heavens, or preferred the more
varied and random winds of Rokugan.
Beside the
beautiful Kami, two men stood and awaited the will of their leader. They had
been called to meet with Shinjo at dawn, but she had not spoken for hours. The
Kami instead seemed as if she were communing with the breeze, sensing it in
some way the two mortals could not understand. Out of respect and more than a
little fear, both Ide and his student Bairezu waited silently for Shinjo to
speak.
Finally, the
wind deposited a speck of ash in Shinjo’s palm. Though a normal woman would
have never noticed such a thing, to the Kami’s senses the ash was as jarring as
a thunderclap on a clear day. Shinjo closed her eyes as if in pain and squeezed
her hand around the mote, then lowered her head.
“Fire,” she
whispered, causing the two mortal men to start. “From the west and south. The
wind carries the smell of war… the screams of the dying…” She opened her hand
and let the ash float away on the breeze as she finished, “… and the horrors in
its wake.” After a short pause, the Kami turned to Ide and bound her long black
hair so that it would not fly free on the wind. “Ide, do you know why I have
brought you here?”
“No, my
Lady,” Ide replied, taking a step forward and bowing his head before the Kami.
Though he was young, Ide had impressed Shinjo. While many of the other Kami had
gathered the strongest warriors of the tribes, Shinjo had favored Ide for his
honesty and his cleverness. Shinjo had come to rely on his counsel when it came
to dealing with the mortals. Those that feared the otherworldly Kami were often
soothed by the kind words of her vassal. Ide’s most promising student and a
warrior of no small talent, Bairezu, waited patiently behind him as his
superiors spoke.
Shinjo cast
her eyes once again to the south and spoke with more steel in her voice. “It is
my brother, Fu Leng. We thought he perished as Ryoshun did, but Fu Leng has
returned. He has been driven mad somehow. He has pledged to undo everything
Hantei has wrought and claim this land for his own. He commands an army of oni
from the deepest pits of Jigoku.”
“I have
heard of a dark army marching from the south, my Lady,” Ide replied. “I… did
not know there was yet another Kami that had come to this land with you.”
“We did not
speak of him,” Shinjo said, closing her eyes as if to banish the memory. “But
now villages burn at his command and his advance cannot be contained.”
“Shall I
send word to Otaku?” Ide asked, motioning back towards where Shinjo’s followers
had settled. “Perhaps she would be equal to the task of…” His voice trailed off
as he realized what he was about to say.
The Kami
completed his thought. “Making war upon my brother?” Shinjo was conflicted —
the slaughter had to stop, but could she destroy Fu Leng? What if he could
still be saved? “I will decide when that is necessary, Ide,” she nearly
growled. Shinjo felt a small pang of remorse for her misdirected anger, but she
knew Ide would understand. “No, there is something else you must do for me.
Something you must do for so many of us, Ide.”
“Whatever
you wish, my Lady,” Ide responded sincerely.
“Are you so
sure, Ide? What I ask may cost you your life, and the life of young Bairezu,
but we gamble to save the lives of thousands.”
Ide looked a
question at his student.
“I would
count myself most fortunate if my death were to have such meaning.” Bairezu
said, bowing low to the other two.
“We are in agreement,
then,” Ide said, then added with a grin, “Though I will do my best to avoid
such good fortune if possible.”
•
“Kill me
now,” Ide sighed under his breath as he brushed yet another bead of sweat out
of his eyes. He and his student had reached the mountains earlier in the day,
though the terrain had only recently grown so rough that they were forced to
lead their horses. Ide was not a weak man, but he was unused to prolonged
physical exertion. A few hours of negotiating the rocky landscape was proving
more daunting than the task Lady Shinjo had set before the two men.
“Praying to
the Fortunes for assistance, master?” Bairezu asked from behind Ide. The much
younger man had spent his whole life training for war, so the journey had yet
to take any noticeable toll on him.
“You might
say that,” Ide replied. He turned back to his student and motioned to the path
ahead. “You should lead, Bairezu. It did not occur to me until now, but you may
be able to find a more… reasonable route through these lands. You are
accustomed to such travel, are you not?”
“Hai,
master,” the younger man said, “but I fear I would not know which way to lead
us. I have never been here before, as these are the lands the great Emperor has
given to Shiba and his followers.”
Ide shrugged
and looked around, “I’m not following any particular route, my student. Lady
Shinjo commanded us to find the tribe of Yobanjin, the ones who chose to live
outside the protection of the Kami. All I know is that they are in these
mountains. Somewhere.”
Bairezu
opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. After a pause, he said, “May I ask a
question, master?”
“Of course,”
the older man replied, grateful to postpone further walking.
“Do you
think they will return with us?”
Ide took a
deep breath and rubbed his chin in thought. After a moment, he said, “I really
do not know, Bairezu. But it is Shinjo’s will that the protection of the Kami
be offered once again to these people, in light of the new threat that arises
from the south.”
“They are a
proud people,” Bairezu said, “I do not think they will accept.”
“Then the
Fortunes will punish them for their arrogance,” Ide said quietly.
An instant
later, a noise pierced the silence of the afternoon, and Ide’s horse reared, an
arrow protruding from its neck. Faster than either man could react, the mount
was shot twice more, and Bairezu’s steed was dispatched in a similar manner.
Ide reached
for the short blade on his obi, and Bairezu drew the heavy katana that his
father had given him.
“Throw down
your weapons!” a thick voice called from seemingly nowhere, and suddenly
several archers grew out of the surrounding terrain. The two vassals of Shinjo
were surrounded, and one of the archers advanced on them with his bow drawn.
“Do it!” he yelled, hatred plain in his voice and on his face. “Or I will
punish you for your arrogance.”
“Are you of
the Yobanjin tribe?” Ide asked as he laid his knife on the ground. Beside him,
Bairezu glared as he followed his master’s lead. “We have been looking for
you.”
“You found
us a day ago, with your noisy and smelly march through our lands,” the Yobanjin
replied with a sneer.
“We have
come to deliver a message from—” Ide began, but was cut off when another
shrieking arrow shattered the stones at his feet.
“Silence,
fool. We know why you are here. We have been stalking you until our chieftain
sent word if we were to kill you or not.”
“From the
greeting we just received, I can guess at his choice,” Ide said darkly.
The Yobanjin
flashed Ide a smile that held twisted joy. “Ask him yourself,” he said,
inclining his head.
Ide and
Bairezu turned to see what the archer was indicating, and both men nearly
gasped. Against the light of the setting sun, a massive serpentine figure moved
between air and ground, approaching at an amazing speed. Within seconds, the
flying serpent settled upon the rocks, a massive human on its back.
“The
chieftain?” Bairezu asked Ide quietly.
“I think
so,” the older man replied, trying his best to keep the sarcasm out of his
tone.
“Kneel!” the
lead archer commanded as the rider drew nearer. Ide looked back at his captors,
still caught off guard by the entire situation. “I said kneel!” he hissed,
slamming his elbow into the back of Ide’s head.
Ide crumpled
to the ground. Bairezu spun on the leader to attack, but was shot in the leg by
another of the tribesmen. The warrior cried out in pain and fell to the ground
on one knee.
The
chieftain dismounted gracefully, mere feet from the two Rokugani. “I see Harito
is teaching you dogs some manners,” he growled, looking to the unconscious form
of Ide, then to the wounded Bairezu. He seemed completely unconcerned at the
state of the two men and leveled his dark gaze at the younger warrior. “You
bring a message to the chieftain of the Yobanjin. I am Battul, little one,
which means you have a message for me.”
Bairezu
focused on the matter at hand, forcing himself to ignore the crippling pain in
his leg. “I have no message, mighty chieftain,” he said defiantly. “Ide does. I
suppose you will need to wait for him to get back up from your friend’s
lesson.”
Battul
crossed his massive arms against his chest and smiled thinly. “You Rokugani. So
very clever. So civilized,” he said lightly, then delivered a savage kick to
Bairezu’s chin, sending the young warrior sprawling backwards onto the ground.
“Perhaps you can try and recall what that message may have been.”
“They come
from their Kami, one called Shinjo,” said Harito. “I heard them saying they had
come to offer us slavery under the Kami’s rule once more.”
“No,” Bairezu
said, scrambling to his knees despite the pain. “It is not slavery, and you are
blind if you think it is. The Kami are merciful and wise. They seek to protect
those around them and build an empire that will flourish for the benefit of
all. But one of their number has gone mad and is raging across the countryside
unchecked, destroying all his siblings wish to build. He will murder you and
your kin if he finds you.”
Battul
raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “You make such an attractive offer. Why
should I not wish to serve these slave masters who might… go mad and murder my
people? Our kind survived long before they appeared to put us under their yoke.
You are young, but your father will tell you we were the strongest of the
tribes. Your Shinjo will tell you that Hantei spared our lives, but he knew he
could not destroy us. I find it unlikely that we will be unprepared to deal
with some wandering madman and his followers. There is nothing we cannot
prepare for.”
“Or flee
from,” Bairezu spat back. “Is that not how you dealt with Hantei?”
Battul drew
a long blade from his belt in a smooth motion and held the edge against the
younger man’s neck. “I should kill you for your insolence, worm… but I promised
my people we would not war with the Kami or their followers.” The chieftain’s
eyes narrowed dangerously as he let a feral grin cross his face. “And if what
you say is true, that this army is led by one of their siblings, then I fear my
oath prevents me from taking up arms against that one as well.” Battul put his
weapon back in his belt and signalled his followers to stand down. “Besides,”
he added, climbing back up onto his mount, “why would this enemy come after us?
If he seeks only to war against the kingdom of his brothers and sisters, he
will have no quarrel with us, and our wyrms fly swiftly.”
“It will not
end there,” Bairezu shouted. “Even if the Kami can defeat his armies, what is
to say parts of the broken horde will not wander into your territory?”
“There is
always new territory to conquer,” Battul said. “Go back to your slavemaster,
little one.” His serpent rose lazily into the air, and he turned it back the
way he had come. “Tell her never to seek us again, or her messengers will not
be as fortunate. Tell her to tell her arrogant brother that he will never
command us.” With a nod of respect, the chieftain added quietly, “I respect
your bravery, warrior. I wish you luck in finding your way back to your new
home. When your side loses, find me again. You have a place among the
Yobanjin.”