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THE HISTORY OF ROKUGAN, PART TWO:
THE SCORPION CLAN COUP
Table of Contents
Important Places
To the Empire, Bayushi Shoju was known as the Lord of Lies, the Master of Shadows. His name was whispered with a respect which often crossed the line into abject terror. His was the power behind the throne, his was the heart of the Empire. And that was just the way Shoju liked it. Such was his power and self-confidence that Shoju feared nothing except a single trifling matter.
The Scorpion Clan guarded many things: secrets, truths, the Empire. And they guarded the Black Scrolls. For the rest of the land, the Scrolls had faded into a topic of myth. A myth to all but Bayushi Shoju. For Shoju, they were very, very real.
Tradition held that only the daimyo of the Scorpion knew the location of all twelve Scrolls. This was true. Shoju knew where they all lay. And he also knew what was written on them.
For, aside from the still-unknown magic which were used to bind Fu Leng, the Black Scrolls held an ancient prophecy, written by the mad seer Uikku. A prophecy which, it was said, foretold the end of the Empire. The temptation of divining the future and the might of the spells themselves was great. The Scorpion had recognized this, and placed each Scroll with a different guardian, in a secret place. None of the individual keepers of the Scrolls knew where the others were. Only Shoju. And his greatest, and only, fear had come to pass.
When he had put the First Scroll in the hands of Yogo Junzo, daimyo of one of his shugenja families, Shoju had thought he had chosen wisely. He could not have known that Junzo would finally give in to the secret thought which had festered in the Scorpion Clan for one thousand years. He had opened his Scroll.
The act caused a spiritual ripple effect which had threatened to roar throughout the Empire. Fortunately, the Scorpion shugenja attending to Junzo managed to quell it before it got too far. That was good. But the energies surrounding the Scroll had blasted Junzo into unrecognizability. He was still locked in a magical coma, reportedly undergoing physical changes which would have made a Kuni sick to his stomach. But it was the fact that the Scroll had been opened which made Shoju drop everything and ride to Junzo's residence himself.
The Scroll had lain there, untouched, as Shoju had ordered. He bent and picked it up. The ancient parchment felt vaguely slimy to his touch, terribly unwholesome, but the Scroll had been opened. He could not resist. Carefully unrolling the paper, Bayushi Shoju, daimyo of the Scorpon Clan, the Lord of Lies, the Master of Shadows, read the first Prophecy of Uikku on the First Black Scroll, and sealed his own fate.
The prophecy was simple:
"...And the last of the Hantei line shall be the Doom of Rokugan.
And when the last Akodo falls, so shall the last Hantei."
The words turned Shoju's spine to ice. The Emperor...the Emperor was to release the evil within the Twelve Scrolls? The man he served was the doom of Rokugan? No. No, it wasn't possible. It was mad to think that he who led the Empire, who was descended from Amaterasu herself, was to destroy himself and his people by releasing the Dark One. And yet...and yet, the prophecies could not lie. They were true. They had to be, for Uikku's predictions were often labyrinth, but never wrong. He let the scroll fall from his hand, unnoticed, to the ground, lost in the depths of confusion and despair. And then, an idea came into Shoju's mind, an idea which was a stroke of genius, even for him.
The prophecies could not lie. But they could be prevented. And he could save the Empire. He could save the Empire by the only means necessary:
He needed to murder the Emperor. Sever the royal line. Before it was too late.
Leaving the scroll in the care of Junzo's attendants, Shoju stalked out into the night.
THE GREAT PLOT OF BAYUSHI SHOJU
It was the mightiest undertaking ever performed by the Scorpion Clan. Shoju needed to take the capitol and murder both the aging Emperor and his son before the other Clans could do anything about it. That part was relatively easy. The hard part was living to tell the tale.
All the resources of the Scorpion were brought to bear on this single task. Every spinner of shadows and weaver of webs turned his or her attention to manufacturing the greatest lie of all: the lie that the Scorpion still faithfully served the Emperor.
It took months of preparation to even think about performing the Coup. Key operatives were placed in every Clan with pinpoint precision. A buildup in the Scorpion military, so slow as to be imperceptible to a casual observer, gradually gave Shoju an army that rivaled the Lion's in numbers and strength. Servants were bribed. Mapmakers were blackmailed. Magistrates were led off the scent into dense forests of falsehoods. The plans and inner workings of Otosan Uchi were delivered into the Scorpion daimyo's hands without even a mouse's notice, and, as everything began to fall into place, any lingering doubts in Shoju's heart were washed away with a tide of anticipation. At last, all was ready, and the intricate and layered scheme of the ultimate betrayal unfolded with a lingering, bittersweet grandeur. Events proceeded smoothly, and, on an overcast autumn night, Shoju was ready.
The Lion and the Crane had been debating for some time over a small and insignificant patch of land. It was relatively common between the two Clans, who were natural rivals for the Emperor's affections, but, with a few whispers from Bayushi Kachiko, the conflict flared up into a tense stand-off between the armies the Emperor's right and left hands, drawing the attention of the Empire. This small feat was only the distraction, the claws with which to mask the stinger of the Scorpion.
The Crab were miles upon miles away, and Shoju knew that Kisada appreciated a show of strength. When the time came, he would use the mighty armies of the Great Bear to crush all opposition. So was the Crab defeated.
The Doji had sway in the court, but their armies were nothing, and were worlds away, facing down the Lion. Satsume himself led the Daidoji legions, and his failure to protect the Emperor would drive him to debilitating shame. The Emerald Champion would be too craven to actually march against Shoju. That is, if the Lion even let him. So was the Crane defeated.
The mountain roads to Kyuden Togashi were littered with assassins, prepared to strike down any messenger who would approach the remote mountain fortress of Yokuni. And the lone Kitsuki ambassador in the court mysteriously committed seppuku, a final haiku wrapped around the pommel of his blade. So was the Dragon defeated.
The Lion...ah, the Lion. The only man against whom Shoju had any doubts was Toturi. The Akodo was a great general, his equal in tactical brilliance. He was a threat. Besides, the prophecy had said that "when the last Akodo falls, so shall the last Hantei"--it was imperative that the Lion Champion be neutralized if the Coup were to succeed. Yet it was difficult to find a chink in Toturi's armor. He was a virtuous man, one who had no discernable secrets or shames to expose. And he was too well-guarded to be killed as Satsume had. But even a virtuous man is only a man. And every man has a vice.
Toturi's was small, but simple. He had a geisha, Hatsuko, that he visited on a regular basis. It was a simple pleasure, and one which many samurai enjoyed without consequence. But it was to prove fatal. For Hatsuko was trained by none other than Lady Kachiko herself, and knew better than to refuse orders from her Scorpion masters. When the time came, the greatest general of the Empire, the best hope to stop Shoju, would be poisoned by the woman he loved. And the Lion armies would be led by Matsu Tsuko, herself a venerable warrior, but too eager to make a name for herself, too ready to strike, and too ready to fall at the hands of a superior opponent. So was the Lion defeated.
The Phoenix, as was widely known, valued peace, and only wished to continue their studies. It was this, their own faults, that Shoju counted upon to keep them from joining those who would stand against him. He was not interfering with their precious libraries or musty scrolls. And he was not declaring war against the rest. No. Ujimitsu and his precious Elemental Masters would not have enough time to decide to take action. So was the Phoenix defeated.
The steeds of Yokatsu were swift, but not enough to ride halfway across the Empire in a matter of hours. Calculations were made, and, by the time the Unicorn were able to receive news of what had happened, mobilize their armies, and reach Otosan Uchi, Shoju had more than enough time to fortify his position and remove any allies they might hope to have. The timetable had provided a window of opportunity between then and their arrival to prepare specific defenses against the cavalry of the Shinjo and Otaku horses: potholes would break legs, shadows would break discipline, beasts would break their riders. So was the Unicorn defeated.
Yes. Everything was ready. Now, on the eve of his triumph, Shoju had but three things left to do.
Alone in Kyuden Bayushi, the ancient Scorpion palace, he laid aside the weapon of his ancestors. It had served the Clan well, but to stain it with the blood of the royal family was too much to ask. Putting it in care of the shadows that served him, Shoju slid into his obi a sinister, whispering weapon which had never seen the light of day. It was Ambition, one of the four Bloodswords of the dreaded Iuchiban, and he had succumbed to his call at last. For, once the act was done, Shoju asked himself, why not remain in the palace? Why not crown himself Emperor? The Scorpion had always been the power behind the throne. Now, they would be the throne. He would be the throne. These tangled, midnight thoughts oozed through the Scorpion Champion's mind as his Clan crossed the threshold between plan and reality.
Next, he needed to take care of his wife. Bayushi Aramoro, his half-brother, had always loved Kachiko. Shoju had known this, and was able to turn it against him early on the courtship of the Shosuro lady. It was this love, and Aramoro's ninja training, which made him the perfect bodyguard. "Guard her with your life, my brother," Shoju told him, and smiled behind his mask as he saw the darkly handsome, six-foot-tall assassin's muscles tighten. "For if I am living or dead, I will be watching you." His only response was a terse nod. Aramoro would follow his orders to the letter, for he was his brother. And he had always been the weak one.
Finally, there was one last act to perform. In the palace.
In his palace.
Hantei the 38th had been Emperor for an inordinate length of time. Some said that it was due to his great longevity--he was well over sixty hears old. Others said that it was because he had married late in life, and his young son was not yet ready to inherit the throne. But Shoju, who had stood by his side in many a late council, knew the truth. Hantei the 38th was a frightened old man. He was afraid to relinquish his power, for that would leave him with nothing, and he was afraid to die, for that would leave him with nothing. So he had stayed on the throne past his time, his youth running like water down a drain, slipping past his prime into the avarice and paranoia which so often engulfs the aged. Yet he was still a savvy man in court, and his rule had been of the type which seldom makes it into the history books: an uneventful, quiet one, of steady expansion and low taxes (but not too low; Hantei was no fool). It was a lazy, piggish Empire, for a line which had itself grown dull and fat.
The result of that line sat before Shoju now. Not Hantei's child--the little brat was probably sulking in his room, a young man acting like a child over being sent out of the throne room so early--but his father. In many ways, Shoju thought, he was the last Hantei. Slumped in the throne, varicose veins riding the backs of his clawlike hands, oatmeal-gray hair so neatly trimmed that the beard seemed like a prop to hold up his face, the Emperor looked at Shoju from half-lowered, tired lids with eyes that glistened with awareness. Shoju didn't have to look up from his kneeling position to know the exact cadence, the measured slur which would come out of his lord's mouth. In approximately two seconds...
"Rise, Lord Bayushi." Right on cue. Shoju brought himself up with a smooth and practiced ease. "You wished to see me at this late hour."
He nodded. "Hai. I wish to speak of what your eminence never thought would come to pass: the return of He who we must not name."
The heavy lids rolled back like window shades, and Hantei leaned forward in his seat. As a young man, he would have looked eager. Now, he looked terrified. "You are certain?"
"I wouldn't be here if I did not have the evidence." Shoju took a deep breath. It was time to let it out. "The First Scroll has been opened. Its guardian succumbed to the temptation." Hantei's face darkened, and Shoju found himself speaking faster, for no particular reason. After all, he is going to die. "It is a setback, to be certain, and one which should never have been allowed to happen. I am ready to accept the responsibility." Pause for effect. Good. "However, with the opening of the Scroll, the first Prophecy of Uikku has been revealed. The Dark One will be set free, after a thousand years. And he will possess the most powerful man in the Empire. I ask your permission, my Lord, as your servant, to take whatever means necessary to stop the prophecy from coming to pass."
Hantei nodded. "You have it." The Emperor leaned back in the Emerald Throne, placated, once again a sleepy fool past his prime. His mouth turned, brows furrowed. "But who, my friend," he asked, "is more powerful than you?"
Shoju stepped back and drew Ambition from its sheath. It felt good in his hands. It felt right.
"Only you."
* * *
Lightning flashed outside Otosan Uchi as the Scorpion army moved like a well-oiled machine. The assault was simple, but deviously elegant. Using the plans of the capitol, the Bayushi forces used the city sewers to flow under the city, and a secret exit, originally designed for the escape of the Imperial family in time of war, was the chink in the palace's armor. Like ants from beneath the earth, the Scorpion troops burst up from beneath the Emperor's home, systematically killing soldiers, servants, magistrates, guests, any who could warn Hantei or protect his family. As the Coup began, mounting screams and murmured pleas for mercy filled the halls, the death-knell of the Emerald Empire.
* * *
The sound reached Hantei as he rose from his throne. "Guards!" he shouted. "Quickly! Guards! Guards! Guards!" It became a shriek.
"They are dead." Shoju's voice was calm, no higher than a whisper. "Take your sword. Strike me down. If you do," he lied, "you can escape."
The Emperor looked at him with a rabbit's eyes.
"I offer you an honorable death. It is my duty." Whether he was afraid, or still suspicious, Shoju could not tell. "I could kill you now."
This set the old man into action. He moved with long, even strides to the rack which held the ancestral daisho of the Hantei, plucked the katana out, and drew it slowly from its saya with something resembling purpose. This gave Shoju a moment of pause. None had ever used these hallowed weapons in combat. Then again, no one has ever tried to usurp the throne before. That brought a smile, and he tightened his grip on the Bloodsword.
Hantei turned to face him, his lips a white line, feet spread apart in a classic stance. He said nothing. In that one moment, he was the Emperor.
Ambition struck him down before he could even move.
The poison slipped into his food had done its work, slowed the Emperor's reactions. He never had a chance. Then why did Shoju feel the way he did? The Iuchiban blade felt dirty in his hands, dirty with a thousand years of wretched hungers. He let it fall, and buried his hands in blood-stained fingers.
* * *
By the time his captain came to report, Shoju had replaced the Bloodsword in its place by his side, had rebuilt his inner mask. He was calm again, sure. There was no going back.
"They are dead." It wasn't a question.
The captain nodded briskly. "Hai. His wives and servants have been disposed of. The Captain of the Guard was the last to fall."
"And the child...?"
The captain said nothing, but his eyes strayed to the floor behind his mempo.
Shoju saw, and knew the truth. "The child."
"We...could not find him." He kneeled, removed his helmet. The head which wore it was gone in a single swipe of steel.
Shoju let his cold gaze fall on his men. "The boy must die, or this...exercise will have been for nothing. I will lead the search myself. Come with me."
They left the throne room with the blood of traitor and Emperor pooling on the floor.
In every great enterprise of man, a few mistakes are made. Only a few. Sometimes they only hurt. At other times, they kill.
Shoju's first mistake was his failure to find the young Hantei. Somehow, the boy evaded the Scorpion lord's personal sweep of the castle by mere breaths. Perhaps there was a secret hiding place which the plans of Otosan Uchi had failed to note. Perhaps he had been spirited away mere moments before Shoju's captain burst into the room. To this day, no one can say for certain how the 39th Hantei survived the Scorpion Clan Coup.
But, as Shoju stood on the ramparts of the palace as red-and-black-armored soldiers' boots clattered about him, he was infuriated. And a small worm of doubt began to gnaw at the back of his mind: could it be...could it be...that he was wrong?
He pushed it aside and waited for the dawn.
* * *
Shoju's second mistake was trusting Hatsuko to fulfill her duties correctly. She was a geisha, after all, little more than a glorified slave. The thought had never crossed Shoju's mind that she would fall in love with Akodo Toturi.
But she had. And even as the Emperor held his last, fateful conference, Toturi stepped into Hatsuko's little house. It was warm inside, and he was free to be free. There, he was not the Champion of the Lion Clan when he was with Hatsuko, he was not the general of a thousand battlefields, the flawless and fearless icon of bushido; he was merely a man. A man who could love and be loved, without shame. He could be happy.
Indeed, he was happy. So happy that he never saw the tear which fell from his geisha's eye into his sake as she offered it to him. And, as he drank the warm rice liquor, letting it warm his bones, chase away the winter chill, Akodo Toturi, Champion of the Lion Clan, general of a thousand battlefields, the flawless, fearless icon of bushido, felt his brave heart melt and run into his soul.
And then the poison struck.
It was just enough to paralyze, just enough to cut off his speech and motor centers. He legs spasmed, throat closed up. Toturi fell from the straw mat on the floor onto his side, an expression of surprise and sorrow frozen on his face. Through glazed eyes, he saw Hatsuko kneel before him, white paint running down her face, and numb, porcelain skin held her final kiss. Then she was gone. And he was alive. In time, the Scorpion venom would run through his system, leave him shaken and dizzy, but alive, and ready to face the threat of Bayushi Shoju's treachery with the strategic skill which had made the Akodo family a legend throughout the Empire.
But Akodo Toturi's brave Lion's heart would never heal.
* * *
Shoju's third mistake was in underestimating the dedication of Shinjo Yokatsu. As soon as word of the Scorpion's act reached him, the Master of the Four Winds is said to have risen from his throne, and already his troops were saddled and ready to ride. The armies of the Unicorn did not stop for food, water, or rest. They rode day and night, faster than they had ever ridden before, thundering across the hills and plains of the Empire, roaring through the mountains like a cloud of war. And they arrived fully three days ahead of Shoju's schedule.
* * *
Shoju's fourth mistake was relying on the complacency of the Phoenix. Isawa Ujina, Elemental Master of the Void, locked deep in mediation, detected the almost imperceptible movements of the Scorpion armies, and secretly rode, with a small force of samurai and his daughter, Kaede, to intercept Shoju as he marched to the castle that night, in a desperate attempt to keep peace. However, as the two parleyed, one of Ujina’s men delivered into his child’s hands what was to amount to Shoju’s undoing. Even as the Scorpion Lord ordered his men to crush the small Phoenix force, not only had Ujina sent a sorcerous message to Shiba Ujimitsu, but Isawa Kaede was already dashing through the woods with the Empire’s greatest hope. And, so, the Phoenix armies were already on the move when Shoju drove Ambition into the Emperor’s body.
* * *
Shoju's fifth mistake was in paying too little attention to the Dragon. The night that Shoju struck down the Emperor, the ninja could do nothing as the gates of Kyuden Togashi opened and Yokuni himself walked, alone, down the path to where his armies lay in fitful slumber. Absolutely nothing.
* * *
Shoju's sixth mistake was rooted in history. The Lion had always despised the Crane. But, when the two Clans, prepared to war over a border dispute, heard of what their mutual enemy, the Scorpion, had done, both armies turned as one and marched towards Otosan Uchi, united by duty. Both right and left hands held a single blade.
* * *
And Shoju's seventh mistake? We shall attend to that later. For now, let us travel to Otosan Uchi, where the battle has already begun.
CLAN AGAINST CLAN:
THE STRUGGLE FOR OTOSAN UCHI
Although the forces of five Clans were on the field that first day, it must be said to Shoju's credit they could not take the capitol. The Scorpion had fortified their position well, and the four magical Walls of Otosan Uchi repelled arrows, magic, and mounted charges with equal efficiency. Shoju's men were well-trained, and had been preparing for just this sort of siege for months. And the Scorpion Champion himself was one of the greatest generals in the Empire, rivaled by only two men. One of them was slowly getting up from the sandalwood floor of betrayal, and the other had not yet joined the battle. So, while the combined resources of the Crane, Dragon, Lion, Phoenix, and Unicorn attempted to test the waters of Shoju's defense, they were too deep and too treacherous to cross.
Shoju was confident in his success. As a whole, his plan had worked to perfection. True, there had been a few minute trip-ups, but these were minor. The forces arrayed against him were mighty, but not strong enough to pierce the armor he had prepared. Everything was working as expected.
It was time to play his trump card.
Unnoticed, a single black-garbed messenger slipped past the Crane sentries under cover of night, moving soundlessly towards the stoic Hida lands.
* * *
When Toturi suddenly took control of the Lion's armies, Shoju was surprised. Obviously, Hetsuko had been a poor choice to administer the poison. She would be deal with later. If there was a later.
With the more rational Akodo spearheading the offensive, Shoju knew that he could not escape. This would be his last stand.
* * *
Akodo Toturi was rather famous for knowing the outcome of his battles, for weighing all matters evenly and then acting on the best choice. He was a man who paused, not out of fear or procrastination, but in careful premeditation. After listening to the reports of the skirmishes between the various forces and Shoju's tactics, he determined that assault now would only give the Scorpion an advantage. They held the high ground. They had full access to the strongest fortifications in the Empire. But there was a weak link.
Shoju had spread himself too thin, trying to hold all four walls at once. A concerted attack on the gates, supported by skirmishes along the other fortifications to siphon off the Scorpion's manpower and resources, would allow Toturi's forces to break through the gates and pierce the relatively unprotected interior of the Palace. However, in order to break through Shoju's shell, more force was needed than even the five Clans present could provide. It was time to appeal to the final player in this deadly game: the Great Bear. The swiftest Unicorn courier was dispatched to send for aid from the Crab.
Ironically enough, the two messengers from the two generals arrived at the Kaiu Wall at roughly the same time. Hida Kisada was in conference with his eldest son, Yakamo, concerning a proposed raid into the Shadowlands to reclaim a lost border post. He broke it off all too easily.
Of course, he had known of the Shoju's coup, as well as the actions of the other Clans. The Great Bear never slumbered. But deep within Kisada were seeds of more than duty and war. He had defended the Empire for years, and it was his humble opinion that the Hantei was a dead family. For generations, the Emperors had done nothing to help the Crab, had allowed the Empire to stagnate. As far as Kisada was concerned, it was high time somebody shook up the status quo. This was really the reason why he had not acted sooner, although he later claimed that he was "too busy planning further military actions" to do anything. He had expected either Shoju or Toturi, one or the other, to expect his help.
He didn't need to read the pleas for aid. He knew what they would say. Toturi would turn to his sense of duty, his personal honor, the oaths his ancestor had sworn to the first Hantei. Shoju would offer him favors, land, riches, the eternal gratitude of the "new Emperor for the new day." Both were lies, and all involved knew it. Or, at least, Kisada did. Now, there was only the question of who to support.
The legends tell us that the typically taciturn Kisada said only this before riding forth to the capitol: "The strong should not ask. The strong should expect."
This, then, was Shoju's seventh, and last, mistake.
* * *
It took several days for the Crab to march to Otosan Uchi. Kisada left a few Hiruma to keep up appearances on the Wall, but, otherwise, the entire Clan went with him to the capitol. As the thundering, steel-soled boots of the Great Bear's men mounted the rise, a tide of blue and gray death, both Toturi and Shoju watched intently, waiting to see which standard this, the final player in the game, would fly. It was to be the turning point in one of the most pivotal events in Rokugan's history: if the Hida went with the Scorpion, the combined tactical and military might of the two Clans would scatter the tired and factional attackers; if, however, the Lion had won the Crab's favor, Shoju would face all six of the Clans, a force he could not hope to stand against. As Kisada's personal guard flowed into the plains of Otosan Uchi and morning light streamed from the sky, the only sound was the studied, thudding march of defeat. For one side or the other, for better or worse, it would end in blood and death and shame.
In the rays of Lady Amaterasu, mother of Hantei, the green and gold of the Imperial Family shone at the head of the Crab armies.
At that moment, the Scorpion Clan Coup failed.
A BROKEN THRONE,
A BROKEN SWORD,
AND A BROKEN MAN
Shoju was stunned. He watched, a blank and empty expression in his unmasked eyes, as the Great Bear and his entourage met with Toturi and the rest, a kaleidoscope of colors and patterns. He would have one night. One night to prepare for the last battle as Kisada rested from his long journey. He had no allies. He was outnumbered six to one. Not even the walls of Otosan Uchi could keep the Lion from its prey. There was only one place to turn: his ancestors.
He turned and walked slowly, thoughtfully, from the ramparts.
* * *
The night was heavy about Otosan Uchi, heavy with sleep or boredom. Many of those surrounding the castle, the Crane, in particular, expected the Scorpion to launch a sneak attack, or to be the cowards that they were and attempt to retreat through the sewers, the way they came. Akodo Toturi knew they were wrong. The Scorpion did not always adhere to the code of honesty or bushido. They were treacherous, scheming, and always ready to take advantage of the faults of others. But, Toturi knew, had always known, the true motivations of the Scorpion. He did not dislike, envy them as others did. It was their duty, and it was necessary. He had understood, up to a point, how the Shoju's mind worked. Or thought he did. Why? Why murder the man they had both sworn to protect?
He would ask Shoju.
He would ask, before it was too late.
* * *
When dawn rose and the armies massed for the final assault, Shoju was still kneeling before the Temple of the First Bayushi, alone in the empty throne room. He had it brought with when he rode to the capitol, so confidant, so deep was his conviction that the work of months would be successful, that it would be only fitting for the tiny, ornate shrine to rest behind the throne of the new Emperor. What went wrong? The thought flitted between prayers in a mind which found itself wandering into the past, remembering grand victories gone by.
Remember when you outmaneuvered--
(what went wrong?)
Or the time in court when--
(what went wrong?)
And Kachiko, when she saw that you--
(maybe it was supposed to be this way)
Shoju's eyes shot open. Could it? Could it have been meant to happen, all along? Did he--
Impossible. He had only wanted to protect the Empire.
The best intentions lead to the worst deeds.
Who had said that? He couldn't remember. Ambition lay cold against his side, cold, heavy, dumb.
Roiling in rage and sorrow, Shoju tore off both his masks, the one he wore and the one he had become, and pleaded with running eyes and choking voice to the silent Temple: "Is there any other way?" he cried. Through the windows the sky was purple, the shadows slowly lifting, leaving the room naked. And, as they did, Bayushi Shoju was given his answer, and his hands, still stained red with royal blood, fell to his sides.
* * *
The battle was swift. As soon as the sun peeked over the horizon, glaring into the eyes of the Scorpions on the South Wall, Toturi charged. Early losses mounted, but the overwhelming might of the armies of the five swelled and beat back the swarms of Scorpion archers. Phoenix counterspells sent shadowy shugenja screaming from the back lines. Armor-plated Kaiu siege masters swung a great battering ram into place at the gates. Finally, as the four walls of Otosan Uchi fell, the so did the Scorpions, to the inner keep, to wait out the final fight with unflinching courage. But their daimyo was not with them.
* * *
Toturi knew that the first hundred or so inside the gates would die instantly. It hurt him to see friends and allies die, fodder for crimson and black spearmen. But, once the Otaku cavalry swarmed in, the Scorpion began to scatter like the wind. Pockets of resistance would remain, certainly, but the backbone of Shoju's army was beaten. As he dashed through the corridors of the palace, he wondered where the man himself was.
* * *
Shoju knew he had dishonored himself by not dying with his armies. He didn't care. There was only one way to end this. He planted his feet before the throne, put his hand on Ambition's hilt and shuddered at its touch.
* * *
Of course! Why didn't he think of it before? The throne room!
* * *
When the Lion entered, a grim smile glistened behind the replaced mask of the Scorpion Champion. Ambition shivered as it slid from its sheath.
* * *
Nobody knows just what happened between those two men, in the brief span of time before the rest of the attackers beached the throne room. What is known is that Bayushi Shoju, the Lord of Lies lay dead, face-down, at Toturi's feet. The Emerald throne bore hairline cracks from the ringing blow which had snapped the blade from the Scorpion's sword. And, the grip of Ambition, its edge removed, its danger lessened, nevertheless sat in its seat.
Whether or not Toturi killed Shoju in a final duel, or if he was allowed to commit seppuku out of a mutual respect between the two men, cannot be said with certainty. But the fact remains that the Akodo refused to speak about the incident, and his lips tightened in emotion with the very mention of his opponent's name.
The Hantei boy was found, cloistered away in Phoenix lands, protected by Isawa Kaede. There was much rejoicing.
Bayushi Kachiko, Shoju's wife, was discovered locked in an antechamber, supposedly for her own protection. She was arrested as a traitor to the throne.
One of Hantei the 39th's first acts as Emperor, although he was hardly even a man, was to punish the Scorpion in the worst way possible: he ended the Bayushi line. Not by killing Kachiko, although that would have spared him much trouble in later years, but by marrying the beautiful, yet iron-willed, woman before her former husband's blood had even been mopped off the floor. The ceremony's intent was brief, but effective: as far as the Emperor was concerned, there was no longer a Scorpion Clan, at all. And the Emperor's word was law.
After the last few stragglers had been hunted down, the young ruler turned his attention to the rest of the Clans. The Crane, Dragon, Phoenix, and Unicorn he praised in a public speech for their duty and honor in choosing the right course of action. That left the Crab and the Lion.
The Emperor was greatly perturbed at Kisada's decision to join the battle. The Crab had a duty! They were to guard the Empire from the Shadowlands! It was folly to leave their post and attend to affairs which were not theirs to worry about! Why, it was tantamount to treason!
Never mind the fact that the Crab had left a sufficient force to guard the Great Wall when they left. Never mind that Toturi testified before the Court that the Hida's aid was instrumental in defeating the Scorpion. No, the new child of the Sun Goddess chastised Kisada himself before his peers, and the Great Bear left the throne room with clenched fists and narrowed eyes.
And the Lion? Absolutely inexcusable! With the questioning of Bayushi Yojiro, a magistrate who had refused to take part in the Coup, thereby sparing his own life, Akodo Toturi's shameful secret was revealed to all: he had been with a geisha on the eve of the Coup. The most stalwart defender of the realm had been all but ready to sleep with a glorified whore! He had failed to protect the Emperor and his family in their hour of need! And, to add insult to injury, he had openly disagreed with his new ruler on the very first day of his reign! A mere verbal lashing would not do in this case. Punishment was to be assessed. The Lion Champion asked for the privilege of seppuku, but the Emperor's wrath was at its height, and demanded that an example be made.
Before the massed armies of the five "loyal" Clans, on the ramparts of Otosan Uchi, Akodo Toturi, Champion of the Lion Clan, general of a thousand battlefields, and flawless, fearless icon of bushido, was stripped of family, rank, title, and his achievements stricken from the records of the Empire. From that day forth, he was known only as Toturi the Black, a ronin, who was doomed to never find a home, never find rest or solace, for as long as he lived, forbidden even to take his own life in despair. The men he once commanded gave way before him as he walked, shoulders back, face expressionless, from the life he had lived, the man he had served, and the family which he had once called home, as the armies of the Crab marched home in shame and anger. The slain body of the Emerald Champion was buried, with highest honors. And Kachiko, standing beside the Emperor, smiled.
So was the stage set for the doom of the Empire.