I nodded.
A slow purr rumbled in Rahh’s chest.
Jun put his arms around my neck and embraced me, cheek pressed to my feathers, tears in his eyes. I wrapped him in my wings, this little monkey-child, whose thoughts in my head were now as welcome as my own. What would I be without him? Could I go back to what I was?
I looked at Rahh, his eyes shining, strong and proud and fierce.
And decided I could try.
Behind us, the Lady Ami emerged from her cave, blinking in the wounded daylight, hand held aloft to the burning sun. She drifted down the hill, surrounded by rolling smoke, a wall of swords and spears. Her eyes met little Jun’s across the thicket of steel and fur and feathers, and she smiled despite the carnage about her, the horror she so clearly wore in the face of this dreadful slaughter.
He smiled back, the ache in him spilling into me.
And there in the crowd of battered soldiers, his face crusted and daubed in the blood of his kin, stood her husband. Tatsuya, the mighty Bull of Shima, drenched to the elbows in victory, his face an ashen mask. The Lady picked her way through the bodies, holding the hem of her ruined gown. She stood before her husband, covering her fist and bowing low before him, her eyes downturned to the bloody ground.
“Shogun,” she said.
All about her, the monkey-child soldiers did the same. Tatsuya’s bloodied victors. The broken remainder of Riku’s once-mighty legion. Bowing in unison, little Jun along with them, that same word spoken from a thousand lips.
“Shogun.”
The Tiger Lord looked to the Lady Ami, his face grim. And as Jun’s poor heart wrenched inside his chest, Tatsuya put his arm around his bride, leaned close, and placed a bloody kiss upon her brow.
Look now in your moldy history books, monkey-child. Look now in your dusty scrolls. Read now of the glorious Kazumitsu Dynasty, and see how much those bleach-white pages speak of the Battle at Four Sisters. Do you see mention of Lotus Guild ships present there? Stormdancers? No?
Do you wonder why?
A month after the battle, a thin normality had descended on Shogun Tatsuya’s court. His ascent onto the throne had been a gloried affair; a golden tiger mask upon his face, golden katana and wakizashi at his waist, a robe of bloody red trailing long behind him, and his wife beside it. As much pomp and ceremony as possible was mustered for the celebrations, considering the funeral arrangement that would coincide with the festivities. And in the hush thereafter, Tatsuya set about the quiet and bloody business of ensuring his dominion.
As promised, the Shogun showed clemency to Riku’s wife. The Lady Mai was permitted to dwell within a quiet corner of the Imperial Palace, her belly swelling with her dead husband’s child. First Lady Ami herself set about affairs befitting her station: the running of the Shogun’s household, the entertaining of visiting dignitaries from the Phoenix, Dragon and Fox clans. She spent what little time she could with a pale, blind boy who lingered like a shadow at the court’s edge; ever uncertain of his place there. The boy in turn kept the company of her cats, looking out from behind those slitted eyes of green glass and seeing a world he recognized not at all.
Since Tatsuya’s ascension, Ami had seen the Shogun only fleetingly, and from a distance. Ever surrounded by ministers and courtiers. Ever kept at cold arm’s length. Still, she struggled on. As best she could. As best she knew how. It was nearly five weeks after the Battle at Four Sisters when she heard it—the news that drained the blood from her face, set her storming through the palace halls in search of her seldom-seen husband.
After almost two hours and a dozen minders’ attempts to stave her off, she found him in meeting with his council of ministers and four representatives of the Lotus Guild. The men arrayed about a long table, crowded with tea services and sumptuous dishes, laughing and smiling, ruddy cheeks gleaming. The Guildsmen seated opposite, their glasses and plates empty, bloodred goggles fixing Lady Ami with dead-eyed stares as the herald begged forgiveness for the intrusion and announced her name to the assembly.
The bottom half of the Shogun’s face was covered by a golden breather fashioned like a tiger’s maw— apparently intended to keep the worsening fumes at bay. A kimono red as heartsblood was draped about his shoulders, embroidered with gold tigers. A golden breastplate and matching swords completed the imperious portrait.
He raised one eyebrow, met Ami’s burning glare.
“Honorable wife? What is the meaning of this?”
“I beg forgiveness, most gracious Lord.” Ami kept the rage from her voice, her face impassive as a statue’s. “But I must speak with you on a matter most urgent.”
Ami held up a crumpled sheet of rice paper in one white-knuckled fist—an edict marked with the Imperial Seal. The assembled ministers looked to their Lord in unison. The Shogun’s brow darkened, his voice hollow and metallic behind the mask.
“Do you not see me here in council—”
“As I say, great Lord,” Ami interrupted. “A matter most urgent.”
The Shogun looked among his ministers, the Guildsmen. “You will excuse us, please.”
Murmured acquiescence, the hiss and whine of pistons and the whisper of silken robes as the assemblage stood as one, bowed to their Lord, their Lady, and marched slowly from the room. Ami’s eyes were fixed on Tatsuya, the beginning of tears gathering in her lashes. Rage burning inside her, refusing to let them fall. The Shogun’s voice was tinged with impatience.
“You had best have fine reason for interrupting—”
“I do not
Tatsuya glanced at the paper in his lap, back at his wife. “Shame you?”
“You plan to adopt Mai’s child?” Ami hissed. “Make it your heir?”
“Hai.” Tatsuya nodded. “If it is a boy. Until I have an heir of my own.”
“And how in the name of the gods do you suppose that will happen, Tatsuya?”
“I am wondering the same, beloved,” the Shogun replied. “I hear rumor about the court you are barren. Unable to provide me with sons.”
“You have not touched me in
“Strange,” he mused. “I heard no mention of that amidst the whispers.”
“What did I do to you?” Ami demanded. “Ever you have spurned me, but never have you sought to so openly disgrace me. And now I find you in council with the Lotus Guild? You vowed vengeance against them! Have you forgotten they tried to murder me? Your own wife?”
“The Guild leaders who ordered such dishonorable aggression have been brought to justice. Their heads delivered to me personally. And my vengeance? Already I bring them under my heel. I have commanded their chi-production be brought under Shogunate control. Their refineries will be constructed in each clan capital now, where they can be monitored by my officials. No longer will they practice their arts out in the wilderness beyond my sight or knowledge. It is time they learned to whom they owe allegiance.”
“You bring their refineries into our cities?” Ami was incredulous. “Have you taken leave of your senses?”
Tatsuya stood slowly, hand on his sword. His scowl growing black as storm clouds above the tiger mask. “Mind your tongue, honorable wife. You speak to your Shogun now.”
“What of the sickness? The blacklung? The arashitora fought beside you because they thought you meant to expel the Guild! Unravel it! You gave Jun your word!”
“I recall making no promises to the beast-speaker.”
