The young Bull turned to his first general. “Ukyo-san, send emissary to my brother. Tell Lord Riku I offer full amnesty to any of his troops who now surrender. Tell him I will guarantee his wife’s safety, and that of his unborn child should he now lay down arms.”
The old general nodded. “He will refuse, of course, great Lord.”
“Of course. But I will not have history say I was merciless in victory.”
The general smiled and bowed. “You will make an admirable Shogun, great Lord.”
“Time will tell.”
Tatsuya saw Maru the Guildsman approaching over uneven ground, his brass-and-leather suit hissing and whirring, bloody eyes aglow. The Guildsman stopped before the Bull, bowed low, hand over fist.
“Great Lord, my superiors find your conditions most agreeable, and humbly thank you for your gracious considerations. We will aid your noble endeavors in exchange for quality controls and licensing over blood lotus production in Shima. We have drawn up a document,” here the Lotusman proffered a scroll case marked with the Guild’s lotus bloom sigil, “outlining the finer points of the arrangement.”
“Leave it with my scribes,” Tatsuya said. “I will mark it once your side of the bargain is fulfilled. On this you have my word. I presume the vow of a son of Kazumitsu is acceptable in place of some scribblings upon a page?”
“… Hai, great Lord,” Maru rasped.
“Good. Now where are these wonders you promised me?”
The Lotusman pointed west, his voice a graveled rasp.
“They approach, great Lord.”
Tatsuya squinted into the brightening sky, burned by the glow of the rising sun. He could see blunt silhouettes approaching—what looked like tall ships floating on the clouds. In place of sails, the ships had large inflatable balloons, propellers at their flanks, the song of their engines like the hum of distant insects. He had seen inflatable craft before, of course—the Guild had been experimenting with lighter-than-air ships for decades. But this was the first he’d ever seen a ship so obviously outfitted for war. The snouts of what looked like black-powder cannon jutting from their flanks. Armor plating. Faster than any airship he’d laid eyes on.
He found himself counting his good fortune that the Guild had been so easily cowed.
“Chainkatana and wakizashi,” said Maru. “Suits of armor augmented by chi-powered motors. Enough to arm every one of your samurai, and cut your brother’s forces down like grass.”
“See them distributed amongst my elite,” Tatsuya said. “General Ukyo will assist you. We attack within the hour.”
“As you command.” Maru bowed. “Shogun.”
“We have no time, Lady Ami. No time left at all.”
Jun knelt in what felt like a vast space, cool breeze echoing in distant recesses. The whisper of silken amulets moving in the wind. The distant murmur of servants’ footsteps. He could smell the tea placed before him, hear the soft breathing of the woman kneeling opposite. Head turned, eyes downcast, mind still clouded with the recollection of her face.
Like a portrait from the days when he still had sight; the work of the masters he had studied before the sun took his eyes away. She was smoke and coal. Alabaster and red silk. Lips the color of heartsblood. Irises so black it seemed night itself pooled behind her lashes. The image he had seen through Koh’s eyes, eagle-sharp and tinged with predatory hunger … he feared he would never be rid of it. The music of her voice. The shape of her face.
All this he remembered.
And yet now, without the thunder tiger, without his little sparrow, he dwelled in darkness. His other senses sharpened, yet no compensation for the loss of his eyes. Clouded by the urgency coiled tight in his belly, pulsing with every beat of his heart, despite the surety that all this was happening exactly as it was meant to. He could feel other presences in the room: a maidservant introduced as Chiyoko, now pouring the tea, guards lining the walls, armor clanking, breathing soft. The quiet creak of the rafters above his head.
Lady Ami’s voice was low, smoky, his skin prickling at every note.
“Your name is Jun?” she asked.
“So my mother named me, great Lady. Before the sickness took her.”
“From what clan do you hail?”
He licked his lips. Forced himself to be patient. Courteous. Calm.
“I am Fox clan, Lady,” he replied. “Born and raised.”
“Another Kitsune.” Jun heard a smile creep into the Lady’s voice, muffled by the fan she no doubt covered it with. “I am pleased to enjoy the company of a clansman once again. It has been many years since I saw my homeland.”
“In this, we are equals, Lady Ami-san.”
“Then you were not born blind, Jun-san?”
Jun shook his head to banish the memories.
“No, Lady. I began losing my sight when I was ten. It took two years to depart. My grandmother blamed the pollution in the sky. The haze that makes Lady Sun burn brighter and hotter. I am told many folk wear goggles now in the north, to protect them from my fate.”
“That is very sad.”
“Happier than some. The sickness grows worse with each passing year. It claims lives, not just eyes. My mother and father both fell to it. The people of my village call it blacklung. And it strikes not only humans. The phoenix sicken and die. The mujina and tanuki of the forests, the kappa of the river and lakes, even the thunder tigers—all of them are falling prey.”
“We hear rumor of this sickness you speak of, Jun-san,” said Lady Ami. “I remember folk of my father’s court falling to it when I was younger. But we had no notion it had grown to such a threat. My father-in-law’s illness, the matter of succession … the Shogun’s court has been consumed by it in recent times.”
“I fear the Lotus Guild is to blame for…”
His voice drifted off as a familiar shape in his mind … no, two … coalesced out of the mists at the edge of his senses and stalked forward into the light. All purring and soft velvet, tread like a faint breeze on the polished boards. He reached out with the Kenning, their thoughts calling to his, recognizing them as cats, male and female, slinking to their mistress’s side and watching him with curious eyes. He touched their minds, bid them greeting, feeling their delight as the Lady Ami ran her fingernails through their fur, their sensual shivers flowing into him.
“These are your cats, Lady? What are their names?”
A long pause, the press of three stares upon his empty eyes.
“Whisper and Silk,” the Lady finally replied.
“Very pretty.”
“You have excellent ears, Jun-san. Can you hear what color undergarments I wear?”
A playful tone in the Lady’s voice, soft laughter as his cheeks flushed at the imposition of thoroughly unbecoming thoughts. He shivered again as she stroked the tomcat’s spine. Despite his upbringing, he felt a novice. Provincial and ignorant in the face of this Lady’s parlor games.
“I hear the thoughts of beasts, Lady. The cats in your lap. The thunder tiger outside.”
“… You are yokai-kin?”
“Hai.”
“I have never met one of your ilk before. I though perhaps you were legend.”
“So it might one day be said of phoenix or henge and tanuki. So might it be said of all the spirit beasts of this land, if the Lotus Guild and their sickness are not stopped.”
The Lady cleared her throat, attention refocused, the cats in her lap forgotten.
“The Guild grows in power daily,” she said. “They buy ministers and magistrates with the iron coin their mechanical marvels bring them. They could be dangerous enemies. You have proof of their involvement in this sickness, Jun-san?”
