Tatsuya looked up from the chainkatana, peered deep into the Guildsman’s bloodred lenses as if straining to see the real eyes beyond.
“And you will give these weapons to me?”
“The Lotus Guild offers much, Lord Tatsuya. We can outfit your troops with arms such as these. Sky-ships from our yards—only a handful at first, but understand more are being built as we speak. And lastly, we can offer you your brother’s head.”
Tatsuya’s eyes narrowed.
“Now you have my attention, Guildsman.”
“As you say.” Amusement buzzed in the Lotusman’s voice. “We have a crew of sappers at work beneath the water as we speak. The bridge over the river Junsei is being rigged with chi-bombs from our Midlands munitions works. The blast will be violent enough to collapse the structure, ancient stone though it may be, cutting off your brother’s escape route. You can win this war today. Literally, this very morning. With our help.”
“You would hand me my throne upon a brass platter?”
“In exchange for … considerations, great Lord.”
Tatsuya smiled, the Tiger blood in his veins running hot. “So we come to the rub at last. What do you ask in return for these marvels, Guildsman?”
“Trifling things, great Lord.” The Guildsman waved his hand. “We wish to decentralize our chi production. Perhaps some land in each clan capital upon which to build a refinery. Some hand in the administration of farms growing blood lotus. Perhaps a licensing system, controlled by the Guild to ensure quality and yield. Most importantly, we would seek to root out an impurity amongst Shima’s people. A deformity, if you will.”
Tatsuya’s eyebrow raised in silent question.
“Those who speak to the minds of beasts,” Maru offered. “Yokai-kin, they are named. Our scriptures speak against them. We would seek permission to … cleanse the land of their taint.”
“And in exchange for these trifles, you offer my brother’s head?”
The smile in the Guildsman’s voice was obvious now. “We would, my Lord.”
“My twin brother.” Tatsuya took one step closer to the Lotusman. “A man with whom I shared a womb. The son of a Shogun. A descendant of great Kazumitsu himself.”
A pause, filled with the empty
“My Lord?”
“Think you, the blood of the Kazumitsu is to be bought with trifles?”
“Think you, I would enlist the aid of mechanics and artisans—not a single soldier or samurai amongst you— to help win me a war I am
“Great Lord, I—”
Tatsuya gunned the chainkatana’s throttle.
He could swear he heard the Lotusman gulp.
“Lord Tatsuya, I counsel—”
The Bull raised the weapon, blades hovering an inch or two from the Guildsman’s throat. He revved the engine again, watching the lanternlight gleam on growling teeth, noting with grudging admiration that the Lotusman did not flinch.
“Be at ease, Guildsman,” said Tatsuya. “I am not the sort who murders an emissary, no matter how grave the disrespect I or my family are shown. Count yourself fortunate you did not offer this same deal to my brother. The Bear does not share my fondness for clemency.”
“You do not offer me a triumph, chi-monger. I have already won this war. And you do not offer me my brother’s head, for he is already dead. What you offer is a
Condemned prisoners choose their last meals with less care than the Lotusman used to choose his next words.
“That you give us anything at all is truly pleasing, great Lord…”
“This talk of a licensing system. Quality assurance. In this I see wisdom. But you will not build your refineries in my cities. Keep your tarworks and smokestacks out in the wilds where I need not inhale the stench. Nor will I help you ‘cleanse’ any of my citizens for a harmless accident of birth. And I will require approval on any further military projects your Artificers engage in,
“I will … need to report these requests to my superiors.”
Tatsuya’s eyes narrowed. “Requests?”
“Commands, great Lord.”
“We have time. The Bear has nowhere to run—once your sappers blow the Junsei bridge, of course. I will consider this demolition ample apology for your threats against a son of the Kazumitsu line. Memories of your temerity will sink into the Junsei with the broken stone.”
“I will give the order to blow the charges as soon as they are in place, great Lord.”
“Good.” As much warmth lay in the Bull’s smile as in a drift of snow. “I look forward to hearing your superior’s response.”
“… Hai.”
The Lotusman bowed low, backing away with his comrade. Out of the tent and out of Tatsuya’s sight, leaving the young Lord in possession of the growling sword. The Bull’s gaze followed their departure, drifting finally down to the weapon idling quietly in his palm. His murmur was soft as bloodstained silk.
“Lowborn gardeners. Thinking to stake a claim in the rulership of this nation?”
He gunned the chainkatana throttle, tongue tingling with the kiss of blue-black smoke.
“Not while I draw breath.”
The monkey-child scab lay below us, sundered by the flow of three sluggish brown rivers. A seething sprawl, little nests of stone and clay and glass, stacked upon each other with no order or reason. A stench drifted up from its nethers, a blue-black haze reminding me of the stinking mouthfuls of black and blood my family coughed as they died, mixed with rot and rust and spice and excrement. I shied away, instinct bidding me turn and fly, fly away from this rats’ nest and the sea of pink and mewling flesh rolling within it.
Though it shamed me, I felt fear swell at the sight of all those monkey-children, innumerable and hungry. The same fear my Khan must have known—the fear of a predator in the face of an army of ants. No matter how big the tiger, how sharp the bear’s claws, a million mouths can eat the largest of meals.
