The War of the Rich Frog

Part Five

by Rich Wulf

Korin was about as pious as any samurai. He used to visit the shrines near Kyuden Ikoma regularly, praying to his ancestors and the Fortunes but never giving it much thought. He found it strange how much more the gods and spirits lingered in his mind of late. He prayed often, but he did not pray for guidance. He did not beg for the Lion to find victory in this war. He did not ask for forgiveness or a chance at redemption – he did not deserve such things. He prayed only that the gods and ancestors would turn their eyes upon this war. He prayed that they would see what was happening here and realize there would be no honor in this victory, no glory to be gained. Certainly they must not have seen what was happening at Kaeru Toshi. What gods would allow such a thing?

The Fortunes had not answered Korin yet, but he did not cease trying.

Fortunately there was no lack of shrines near Kaeru Toshi for him to pray in. The land had once been Unicorn territory, even if the Unicorn were indifferent masters, and the nomads took their faith seriously. Countless small shrines dotted the plains, so no matter what stretch of road a Unicorn might call home, he was never far from a place to honor his ancestors and gods. This one where Korin found himself now, barely a day from Kaeru Toshi, was in sad shape. He pushed open the door to see that the inside had fallen into disrepair. A statue of a Fortune had fallen in the rear of the building. As Korin tied his horse’s reins to a post and stepped into the small, dusty building, he wondered where the monks had gone. Most likely they had fled shortly after the war began.

“Perhaps you have not abandoned us at all,” Korin said, kneeling and straightening the wooden statue with a heave. He looked up into the Fortune’s hollow eyes. “Because we have abandoned you.”

The weathered sculpture depicted an old man with a sad, enigmatic smile. Korin could not tell if it was Jurojin or Fukurokujin. In the end, it did not truly matter. Still kneeling, Korin placed his swords on the floor, bowed his head, and began to pray.

Several hours later, he looked up from his vigil, turning slightly at the sound of movement outside. He could hear several horses, as well as the clank of armor. He reached for his blades and slowly rose, katana halfway from its saya. The door of the temple opened and a familiar young woman in polished golden armor stepped inside.

“Korin,” she said in a pleased voice, though her eyes flickered momentarily to his half-drawn sword.

“Kenji,” Korin said quietly, sheathing the blade. He quickly turned away from her, returning to his vigil before the Fortune’s statue.

“An abrupt greeting for an old friend,” she said in a disappointed voice. “What have I done to deserve such rudeness?”

“Nothing,” Korin said, not looking up at her. “Neither should you shame yourself in the presence of a ronin traitor.”

“Ronin only because he chooses to be,” Kenji replied. She knelt beside him, leaning forward to attempt to look into his eyes. He kept his gaze fixed upon the floor. “Your place among us remains, if you choose to return.”

“How can I?” Korin said, looking at her helplessly. “I failed Otemi-sama. Men died because of that failure. If I return, it will only happen again. I… know things that will bring shame upon Lord Otemi, no matter what I do.”

“What things?” Kenji asked sharply.

“I cannot say,” Korin replied.

“So you hide?” Kenji asked with a sneer. “You toss away your Lion name and honor because it is no longer convenient?”

“This is not as easy as you make it sound, Kenji,” Korin said. “I have tried to find another solution…this is the only way.”

“Then I have made a mistake,” Kenji said, looking at him earnestly. “I mistook you for someone else.”

“What do you mean, Kenji?” Korin asked.

“But you know this tale already,” she answered. “Five years ago, my sister of the Lion’s Pride, Matsu Watako, was trapped deep in Phoenix territory. I requested permission to lead an expedition to retrieve her and her unit, but was denied. Our forces were already taxed against the Tsuno. Our courtiers claimed that the political outcry from another invasion of Phoenix lands would only place our clan in an impossible position. None cared that my sister and her allies were already in an impossible position, alone in strange lands with no supplies, surrounded by enemies.”

Korin looked away again, bowing his head once more.

“But Watako’s commander never lost hope,” Kenji continued. “Even when she was prepared to die in a final, futile assault on Shiro Shiba, he persevered and pleaded for patience. Though badly wounded in their escape from the Phoenix armies he pressed on. How could Watako throw her life away when this man had the strength to continue? The very idea was shameful. Ikoma Korin’s strength was such that she could not help but be borne upon it.”

“I did nothing for Watako,” Korin said in a low voice. “It was Fujimaro and Mitsu who saved us.”

“Are you calling my sister a liar?” Kenji asked in a dangerous voice.

“Kenji, if you knew what I know you would not say such things,” he said.

“Then answer me this,” she said. “What if it were me? What if I was shamed and cast myself out of the Lion? Would you not seek the truth? Would you not help me become what I deserve to be once more?”

Korin smiled at her sadly. “Kenji, I deserve to be exactly what I am now.”

“Foolishness,” she snapped. She scrunched up her face as if to spit, but quickly glanced up at the Fortune’s statue and quickly decided otherwise. She rose gracefully to her feet and moved toward the door.

“Perhaps you are right, Korin-san,” she said softly as she reached the shrine’s threshold. “Perhaps I do not understand what shame has brought you to this point. Perhaps I hope that I never understand, but I do understand one thing that you have forgotten.”

He looked over his shoulder at her.

“I understand that for a Lion, there is always one path to truth, one path to true redemption,” she said with a small smile. “Glorious battle. Otemi-sama has given me a thousand Lion warriors and we march on the village of Sukoshi Zutsu in two days. Fight beside me, and redeem yourself in Otemi’s eyes.”

“Sukoshi Zutsu?” Korin asked, his voice quavering slightly. “What interest would Otemi have in such an insignificant place?”

“Suffice it to say its significance has increased,” Kenji replied. “Join us again and I can tell you more. This will be the battle that ends this war!”

Korin said nothing, only looked up at her in stunned silence.

Kenji frowned and sighed deeply. “Fine,” she said. “If you prefer to stew in shameful solitude, then so be it. When you are prepared to know what it is to be a Lion once more, join my army in Sukoshi Zutsu.”

With that she turned, slamming the door shut with a crack. Only a sliver of light still passed into the disheveled temple. The sound of armor and horses moved away. Korin reached into his worn kimono and drew out the rolled scrap of parchment he had found in his saddle bag two days ago. There was only one line of symbols written on the page in a clean, simple hand.

“In Sukoshi Zutsu, the Lion will suffer.”

Korin held the message to his nose. The faint scent of lilac perfume was gone now, the only part of the message that identified its owner.

It was the same perfume that Ikoma Otemi’s wife, Yasuko, had worn the night Korin failed to kill her.

•

In the center of the Unicorn camp stood an enormous tent, larger than all others. It was what the Unicorn called a chomchog. This was the Khan’s true home, much more than the stone walls of Shiro Moto where he entertained foreign visitors. At the rear of the tent, Chagatai, Khan of the Unicorn Clan, sprawled easily in a heap of furred cushions. He waited patiently as his advisors reported the latest developments in the war.

Chagatai stared into his plate of food and chewed thoughtfully as he listened. Shinjo Shono sat beside him, also listening to the reports carefully. Shono ate nothing; he would attend his own meal later. The Shinjo general found it difficult to enjoy meals while listening to casualty reports. He wondered if he envied or pitied his Khan’s ability to remain unaffected by such matters.

“My Khan,” said a guard, stepping forward and interrupting a supply officer’s speech about the army’s dwindling rations. “A scout brings an urgent report from Commander Rao’s forces.”

The Khan looked at the guard intently, his wide features creasing in an unpleasant frown. With a negligent wave, he dismissed the supply officer. “Send him in at once,” Moto Chagatai commanded.

The guard nodded and moved back to open the entrance to the chomchog. A scout who could not have seen more than fifteen summers stepped inside, his face and clothing smeared with dust. A bloody bandage was wrapped around one thigh. Though the boy attempted to put up a brave front, Shono could see the fear in his eyes. This would be bad news; few men relished the thought of delivering ill tidings to the Khan.

“My Khan, Chagatai-sama,” the scout said, falling to one knee and pressing his fist to the floor. By the way he staggered, he had clearly been about to collapse regardless. “The Baraunghar advance guard has been crushed.”

“Crushed?” Chagatai replied, his voice a deep rumble. “Explain.”

“We were ambushed by Mirumoto Kei’s forces,” the scout reported. “Captain Jushiro reports seventy percent casualties in two divisions, including his own. We were forced to withdraw toward Unicorn territory.”

“Jushiro?” the Khan demanded. “Why does this report not come from Rao himself?”

“Dead, from a Mirumoto arrow,” the scout answered.

“A good turn of fortune for him,” Chagatai said darkly. “And what of the third division?”

“There has been no report from Utaku Xiulian’s forces,” the scout said. “Presumably there were no survivors.”

Chagatai’s scowl deepened. “What is your name?” he asked.

“Jinturi, my Khan,” the scout replied.

“You have done well reporting to me so swiftly,” Chagatai said. “Once you have rested and eaten, you will report to the White Guard. They require the services of good scouts.”

The scout’s eyes widened with a mix of horror and surprise. Shono felt a cold feeling in his stomach. To serve the White Guard was a great honor, but a dangerous post. They were the most savage of Chagatai’s troops, always fighting in the fiercest part of combat. If they always had need of scouts, it was only because those who marched before them frequently did not return. That the Khan had rewarded this boy for his sense of duty was unquestionable, but Shono would be surprised if he ever saw Jinturi again. The scout rose and bowed, bravely concealing his exhausted trembling, and left the tent.

“General Shono, I would have words with you,” Chagatai said, loudly enough for all to hear. “The rest… leave.”

The other advisors quickly complied, evacuating the tent and leaving Chagatai to confer with Shono.

“The Dragon Clan…” Chagatai said, lips curling into a small smirk. “What are your thoughts on their appearance here, Shono?”

“I was concerned that this would happen since the death of Mirumoto Kyuzo,” Shono said with a sigh. “The Dragon are becoming more desperate, more ruthless.”

“Yes,” Chagatai replied, leaning back and drumming his fingers on one knee. “I, too, am surprised at what worthy foes they have proven themselves to be. I was certain Xiulian’s Battle Maidens would have been their match.”

Shono looked at Chagatai, his green crystal eye gleaming. The eye’s magic sensed neither bravado or concern in Chagatai’s words, only mild surprise. “You knew the Dragon would attack?” Shono asked.

Chagatai nodded. “I was told it would occur, but I was uncertain if the source was trustworthy,” he said. “I was certain that a division of Battle Maidens could handle anything the Dragon had to offer.” The Khan mused in dark silence for several long moments. “I do not relish being proven wrong, Shono.”

“What is your command, my Khan?” Shono asked.

“Take half the White Guard and three divisions,” Chagatai replied. “I wish you to find Mirumoto Kei and her armies. Rao and Xiulian will have inflicted severe damage upon them; they cannot have fled far, certainly not fast enough to escape our steeds, and certainly not subtly enough to escape your eye. Show them what it means to court the fury of the Unicorn, Shono.”

“Hai,” Shono replied, nodding to Chagatai. He accepted the command with mixed feelings. He knew the Dragon to be honorable warriors. They only served the Emperor’s interests in this war; their position here was perhaps more righteous than his own. Regardless, if they had killed fellow Unicorn, there can be no other recourse but retribution.

“But before you leave, I would seek your counsel, Shono,” Chagatai said.

“Of course, my Khan,” Shono replied, looking at the Khan curiously. It was unusual for Chagatai to seek advice.

“The one who told me that the Dragon would attack told me much more,” Chagatai said. “He told me that the Lion are aware of our plan to move the greater part of our forces into Sukoshi Zutsu and use it as a staging ground for a war against the Lion. The Lion now march to remove our remaining forces from the village. Had the Dragon not interfered, our grip on the area would already be secure enough that no Lion forces in the immediate area could challenge us. Now, the future is not so certain.”

“Then perhaps our wisest course of action would be to withdraw our troops from the village before they are destroyed,” Shono said. “We can take what victory we can by avenging ourselves on the Dragon for their interference and return to our own lands. We have already proven ourselves the Lion’s equals. It would be the most practical move. Tang could continue to pressure the Lion in the courts; they would see that Kaeru Toshi is not worth the trouble we could give them. The city may yet be obtained by peaceful ends.”

“Ah but peace was never the point,” Chagatai said.

Shono’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, my Khan?”

“The truth lies in a tale, Shono,” Chagatai said. “Surely you have time for me to tell a tale before you hunt down Mirumoto Kei? The history of our people has always lain in its stories, Shono-san, as does its future.”

“Surely, my Khan.”

Chagatai’s weathered face broke into a bitter smile. “Some decades ago, Emperor Toturi was overcome by a bout of madness,” he began. “It is said he was possessed by the same foul spirit that opened Oblivion’s Gate, but such details are unimportant. During this madness he made many proclamations, proclamations that were later rescinded. Among these he declared the Lion unworthy to maintain their position as Right Hand of the Emperor.”

“I know all of this, my Khan,” Shono said. “I was only a boy, but I was there with my father in Otosan Uchi when the decree was made.”

“Then you know that he proclaimed the Unicorn as his Right Hand,” Chagatai said. “You know that in his service, we rode across the Empire, scouring Rokugan in pursuit of justice. We served him well. We brought his foes to ruin. We faced the blasphemous Jade Champion in his lair and bled and died in the Splendid Emperor’s service. And in time, when all was done, the Emperor was restored to sanity. He looked back upon many of the things he had done during those dark years and revoked many of them. Among the things he did was restore the Lion as his Right Hand.” Chagatai looked at Shono seriously. “And none argued. None disputed his action. After all, how could a clan of ignorant barbarians possibly serve the Emperor better than the Lion?”

Shono said nothing.

“You lived in those times and even in the days before, Shono,” Chagatai said. “You tell me. Tell me of the honor and the glory the Lion bore in those days. Tell me of such grand heroes as Okura and Ryozo. Tell me how Matsu Tsuko cut her own belly rather than denounce the Dark God. Tell me what a noble soul Akodo Kage was. Tell me these things, Shono, and tell me that the Lion are more worthy servants of the Emperor than we.”

“With all respect, my Khan, none of those things are as simple as you make them sound,” Shono said, though he could not deny he felt a bit of rising anger at Chagatai’s words, “and we Unicorn were not without fault in those days.”

“You speak of your father,” Chagatai said. “Yet I would argue in reply that the Unicorn deal with their own traitors.” He looked at Shono meaningfully. “I do not mean to imply that the Lion are without worth. My own wife is a Lion, their blood runs through my son’s veins. But to watch the Lion stumble so blindly and yet restore to them the Emperor’s favor, a favor we had rightly earned, and to have none dispute it, what manner of insult is that? Such history heaps shame on the name of all who call themselves Unicorn. That the Lion took Kaeru Toshi from us so easily only compounds that insult. The time has come to put things right.”

“So by taking Kaeru Toshi you believe we will become the Right Hand again?” Shono asked.

“Of course not,” Chagatai answered. “But I would prove to the Empire that we are their equals. This is why there can be no withdrawal now.”

The finality of the statement filled Shono with dread. “So what will we do?” Shono asked.

“The Lion think we are unaware that they march upon Sukoshi Zutsu,” Chagatai said. “My cavalry is the swiftest in the Empire. While you hunt the Dragon, the Khol forces will ride for the village. If we make it in time, the Lion will be annihilated.”

Shono knew better than to question what would happen if the Khan did not arrive in time. A Unicorn, much less the leader of all Unicorn, could not fail in such a manner. Yet he still looked at his lord with a worried expression. Why would Chagatai place so much faith in the word of a spy, much less a spy who claimed to know the plans of both the Lion and Dragon armies? Who could such a person be? Shono knew better than to ask; Chagatai guarded his secrets well.

“Then I wish you good fortune, my Khan,” Shono said, rising and bowing. “I will join you in Sukoshi Zutsu when the Dragon have been defeated.”

•

Ikoma Otemi stood upon the walls of Kaeru Toshi, watching the armies that had so recently become his move across the barren fields. The earth all around was parched and beaten dry by the endless combat. The entire city was covered in a thin film of dust. Though the soldiers put up a brave front, he knew that morale was growing dangerously low. Rations were scarce and supply trains from Kyuden Ikoma few and far between. If he won this war today it would take months if not years to repair the damage done. The farmland around Kaeru Toshi was now ravaged and useless. A year of battle had encouraged wise merchants to find other places to trade their wares.

If there would be no victory soon, there would be nothing left to fight for.

Otemi’s orders from Shiro Matsu were clear. The honor of the Lion was at stake here; simple defense was insufficient. He was to secure Kaeru Toshi and take the fight to the Unicorn. He looked at Kaeru Meiji, standing a short distance away at the wall.

“We risk much in this gambit, Meiji,” Otemi said. “You had best hope your Machi-Kanshisha were not mistaken.”

“I have absolute faith in them,” Meiji replied with a thin smile.

Otemi studied Meiji’s face carefully. “You seem in high spirits for a man in the throes of grief.”

Meiji looked at Otemi in surprise, then chuckled. “My father’s assassination affects me deeply, I can assure you,” Meiji replied. “Yet it is my duty to the Lion to stand in your service. My grief can wait, Otemi-sama, until this war is won. Speaking of which, I still believe it would be wise to dispatch a unit of my Machi-Kanshisha to serve as scouts for Matsu Kenji. None know these lands as they do, and it was they who first espied the Unicorn troop movements.”

“Kenji will be fine,” Otemi said, his voice taking on a slight edge. He looked back out at his armies.

“I wonder if our lord Nimuro has the same confidence as you,” Meiji replied. “Would he not wish you to take advantage of every opportunity for victory?”

“That he would,” Otemi replied. “Nimuro would be most disappointed if I took any action that threatened the safety of Lion troops. Thus, my orders stand.”

“Do you mean to say you do not trust my men?” Meiji asked, shocked.

Otemi looked at Meiji evenly. “What I mean to say,” he replied slowly, “Is that Kenji and her bushi are veteran troops, used to fighting as a cohesive unit. Your Machi-Kanshisha are irregulars used to fighting in small unit combat. They will only get in her way.” He turned back to view his soldiers.

“And no,” Otemi added. “I do not trust you.”

“Because we are former ronin?” Meiji asked.

“If such were so, I would not trust any Akodo for many of them bear ronin blood,” Otemi said. “You Kaeru were different. You were mercenaries, smugglers. My uncle believed that he had curbed your dishonorable tendencies by offering you fealty, and under your father’s leadership perhaps he was right. Now, quite frankly, I am uncertain what to think. His death has weakened your family greatly, as no doubt the Lion’s enemies intended.”

“Then why did you heed my warning at all?” Meiji replied.

“Because if your words are false and there is no significant Unicorn presence in Sukoshi Zutsu I risk nothing by sending such a relatively small detachment of troops. However, if your words are true, I trust no one more than Kenji to bring victory against all odds.”

“For your sake, let us hope Lord Nimuro is not disappointed,” Meiji said.

Otemi turned and looked at the smaller man, his eyes fixed in a hard glare. Meiji did not meet Otemi’s eyes, but continued looking mildly down at the marching Lion troops. Otemi brushed past him and climbed down the ladder to meet with his officers. Meiji smiled faintly as the general departed.

•

The wind howled along the roads near Sukoshi Zutsu, as the autumn winds in Rokugan often did. Autumn in Lion lands had always been a lovely sight, and even here in what was once Unicorn territory Korin had to concentrate to fight off memories of his childhood. The memories were painful now, shadows of a life that he would never know again. He pressed on, watching the Lion army cautiously from a distance. He had followed them quietly for the last few days. He did not believe they had seen him yet. If they had, they had made no move to stop him. What was he doing here?

He felt compelled to find Kenji, warn her, but how could he? What could he say that she would believe? He could not reveal what he knew about Yasuko. Kenji was one of Otemi’s most loyal followers; what would happen if she knew the truth about his wife? Would she seek vengeance and kill Yasuko as he tried to do? Expose her and shame Otemi irreparably? Hide the secret as he had and live in dishonor? Korin did not wish any of those fates for Kenji.

And what if he was wrong? Could he truly go to Kenji and warn her to call off the attack merely because a woman he knew to be a traitor had given him a warning? Such a thing would be ludicrous.

Even still, something made him doubt - the same sliver of doubt that had stayed his hand when he had been prepared to cut Yasuko down. What if Yasuko had truly done what she had done out of duty and obligation to the Scorpion? That did not forgive her crime but it certainly made it easier to understand. What if she was sincere that she truly valued her obligation to the Lion just as highly, and now wished to help them win this war? Could Korin truly turn down aid from such a powerful ally when the Lion needed it so much? If the Imperial Chancellor was truly against them, then they might need whatever help they could muster.

At least here he would learn the truth. If Kenji’s forces were truly doomed, he would know that Yasuko could be trusted. Korin hated himself for even entertaining the idea, but what choice did he have? There was no way to convince Kenji of the truth without destroying her. At least forearmed with possible knowledge of what was to be, he might yet make a difference here.

And if he failed, what had the Lion lost? Only one dishonored samurai who would not report a traitor in his lord’s bed.

Korin scowled and kicked his horse into a gallop. He moved in a wide circle around the marching Lion forces, hoping to move ahead of them and get a glimpse of the village. He darted off the road into a light forest, a swirl of dry golden leaves flying up in his wake. If the maps he had studied so long ago were correct, then Sukoshi Zutsu would be over the next rise.

The flicker of movement in the forest ahead made Korin bring his horse to a quick halt. He reined in and silenced his horse in time to hear heavy hoof-beats galloping away. Korin leaped from the saddle, crawling quickly through the bushes. He came to the edge of a clearing, and was quickly stricken by the coppery smell of blood. A quartet of warriors in the light armor of Lion scouts lay dead in the clearing beside their steeds, peppered with arrows. Two Unicorn soldiers lay dead beside them. One was a scout, hardly more than a boy. The other was a White Guardsman in pale armor. The sashimono on his back bore a white kabuki mask mon. The Unicorn were not only prepared for the Lion assault, but they had already killed Kenji’s scouts. The attack would begin in a matter of minutes at best.

Korin tore the sashimono from the dead Unicorn’s back and returned to his horse. If he returned swiftly enough, he might still warn the Lion. Perhaps there would be time to prepare a defense or even retreat until they knew the numbers they faced. Korin charged onto the road toward the Lion troops. An advance guard of Lion troops barred the road before him. Korin brought his horse to a swift halt as he saw the front guard of the Lion Clan, many with bows at the ready. He realized these men did not know him. He no longer wore any symbol of family or clan. To them he was just another ronin. If he approached too recklessly he would be shot off his horse. If he approached cautiously he would never arrive in time.

Korin charged onto the road, the Unicorn banner held high. He saw one man swiftly draw his bowstring and aim.

“Warriors of the Lion Clan, prepare for battle!” he said, letting the bloody kabuki standard flap upon the fierce winds.

He saw the Lion begin to move into position even as the arrow struck his shoulder. The archer struck true, but his warning had been heard. A chorus of steel being drawn resounded from the Lion army even as the bray of Unicorn hunting horns filled the sky. Korin fell hard in the brush and felt his mouth fill with blood. The world swam and went dark for what seemed only a moment, but when his vision cleared the road was filled with the chaos of battle. He lay at the base of a tree, beside a Lion spearman laying face down in the leaves. He realized with numb horror that the only reason he still lived was that no one cared enough to make sure he was dead.

Korin crawled to his knees, taking stock of the situation. The Unicorn forces outnumbered the Lion nearly three to one. The Lion forces had begun an orderly withdrawal, but not nearly soon enough. In the distance he could make out Kenji’s banner. She stood in a circle with her officers, surrounded by an advancing rank of Moto White Guardsmen. He saw Kenji’s banner vanish under the surging tide.

Korin cursed. Yasuko’s warning had been truthful and he had failed to warn Kenji in time; she may even be dead now. Now there was only one thing for a Lion left to do. For a Lion there was always one path to truth, one path to true redemption.

Glorious battle.

Wincing, Korin touched the arrow lodged in his left shoulder. Drawing it out would only do greater damage; he grunted and broke the shaft near the base, tying the Unicorn banner around the wound to stop the bleeding. Whispering a prayer for the soul of the dead man laying beside him, he picked up his spear and charged into the battle.

•

“Three weeks,” Bayushi Kaukatsu said. “Three weeks, at most, and the Emerald Champion will arrive in the City of the Rich Frog. All of your troubles will be irrelevant. Peace will reign again in Rokugan, and for a time, at least, we shall all honor the Emperor as brothers.”

The man across from Kaukatsu scowled. The news obviously did not please him.

“Three weeks is a long time,” the man said in a deep voice.

Kaukatsu shrugged. “Who can say in times of war?” the Chancellor replied. “Things happen swiftly.” Inwardly, Kaukatsu felt somewhat disappointed. This one had always been such a worthy opponent. Even Yojiro had possessed a great deal of respect for him. Such a thing was admirable in and of itself, but manipulating this man’s rage was a simple task. It felt almost wrong, yet he could sense no trace of falsehood in his opponent’s emotional reactions.

“There is a concern only if this village is as important as you say it is,” he said.

“There is no ‘if,’” Kaukatsu interrupted tersely. “I have sources among the highest ranks of the Unicorn. I risk my own alliances reporting this to you in the interests of peace. The least you can do is grant me the respect of not disputing my word.”

“If you are correct,” he continued, “Ikoma Otemi has failed in directing his war as he should.”

“Failed is a strong word,” Kaukatsu said. Again, he felt slightly disappointed that his interruption had only been lightly challenged. Where was the fire, the intellect, that Yojiro had spoken of so highly? He may as well be manipulating a Crab. “Otemi-san is a hero; his accomplishments speak for themselves. Yet a war of this scale is unlike any he is used to. Such a small battlefield, yet such large stakes. Perhaps he is merely unaccustomed to such responsibility. He requires guidance. And it is not as if mistakes in leadership are new to this war. Was it not the fault of the Kaeru that they did not recognize the threat quickly enough? Was it not the fault of Ikoma Hasaku for not meeting the Unicorn with sufficient aggression? Otemi has inherited this legacy of failure, compounded by many men. Is he to battle these failures alone as well as the enemy?”

“It is as you say. The problem has always been one of leadership.”

“Yet three weeks, as you said, is a long time,” Kaukatsu continued. “A new general and his guard could move to Kaeru Toshi swiftly enough to arrive long before the Emerald Champion. You could send someone else to aid Otemi-san.”

“There is no one else. No one but me.”

Kaukatsu let his eyes widen, as if the thought had not been his all along. “A bold move, my friend. But perhaps this is what the Lion need. After all, are not the Unicorn already commanded by their lord rather than an underling? This might bolster their morale nicely.”

He nodded. “It is as you say,” he replied. “I must prepare to depart at once.”

Kaukatsu smiled, though inside he was disappointed at the ease of his victory. “Then I wish you the best of luck in your war, Lord Nimuro.”