The Eye of the Kami

Dinner was finally served, and it was an elaborate multi-course meal. Yuki heeded Misasa’s advice at first, and only nibbled on a few things here and there and refused the rest, which became exceedingly hard to do for everything looked and smelled delicious. Most of the food she did not immediately recognize. It was not that she had eaten poorly when she was with her father, but out in Kokoro, they were limited to what was harvested nearby. In the New Capital, there was a much greater selection, and so she was able to see and taste cuisine she never had before. She was especially impressed by the seafood, with bright filets of sashimi displayed on green leaves and drizzled with soy sauce.

She took one bite. It was exquisite. She took another, and it was even better than the last. Before long, she was eating to her heart’s content, doing her best not to smudge or ruin her makeup. She felt guilty, but this might be the only chance she had to taste such delicacies, and she was not going to miss out.

At length, the meal finally ended, and everyone seemed a bit more cheerful after eating and drinking than they had at first. Indeed, even though the blood still had not completely dried on the tatami before the Shōgun, most of the daimyō and their attendants were speaking loudly and occasionally laughing. The Buta was the loudest of all, and Yuki had to hold back a chuckle when she saw his finished plates stacked like a tower on the table in front of him. Servants of House Ishihara came and cleared the table but refilled the sake cups in rapid succession. This was a wise move, for if Mashige’s words were true, there were some difficult matters to discuss, and the sake might soften the blow.

The Shōgun eventually lifted his arm, and as he did the room became quiet again. “I hope you all enjoyed the meal. The Lady has certainly spared no expense,” he motioned to the shaded room behind him and the figure beyond silently bowed. The daimyō collectively offered their own thanks and praised the meal, but there was still a hint of tension in the air.

“Before we really begin,” the Shōgun started, “Let us solve one problem right away.” He turned towards Lord Kagi. “Now that there is an absence in leadership in your lands, I will allow you to return there and clean up the foul mess that Sagi made. Do not take this for granted, as the law of alternating residence is still in place, but for this blunder, I was forced to make an amendment. You will depart as soon as you are able. You may bring with you several ships as well.”

Lord Kagi looked pleased with this and bowed low, but the other daimyō grumbled.

“I could use an amendment too,” Yuki could hear the Buta daimyō whisper to his retainer. “The lazy steward that the Shōgun sent is sullying my halls and is eating through my stores, the bloated slug that he is.”

The Shōgun did not seem to pay heed to the grumbling and continued. “I am sure you are wondering why I decided to host our meeting here, and why I did not reveal to you the exact location until just yesterday.” He paused for a moment, providing an interval for interjection. Several of the daimyō nodded, revealing their annoyance in their sharp looks.

The Lord of Cranes, Lord Tsuru, looked particularly agitated. He rose, addressing the Shōgun. “With all due respect,” he began, his monotone voice filling the room. “I believe that we should discuss all important matters of government inside a castle or palace instead of in a brothel. The food was splendid of course and the company tonight will be lovely, but we all sit here naked as our soldiers are left outside and not permitted to carry weapons. If someone wanted to do us harm, it would be an easy task. And not to mention the outside ears witnessing our every decision,” he glared up at the slim figure beyond the screen. “It does not sit right with me, my lord, and I do not think I am alone in this.”

Some of the daimyō assented, nodding their heads slowly and saying, “Here, here!”

“I understand your complaint,” the Shōgun returned, but his voice was stern. “Yet while you might feel naked, my dear friend, it is I who have the most to lose. Indeed, I chose this place specifically because none of you would expect it, making it more difficult for you to cause me harm if you so intended it.”

The Crane appeared perturbed by the Shōgun’s rebuttal. “And of the unnecessary eyes and ears?”

“What of them? I allowed you each to bring a retainer or two at your own behest. Surely, they are also unnecessary eyes and ears. Besides, this is Lady Ishihara’s house, and these are her rules. I have the word of the Lady that no information will leave this room unless we permit it. She has held many of my secrets before, and I trust her word and her servants. These women make their living by keeping secrets. This one here is a ceremonial observer, one who is supposed to bring luck to our endeavors. Do you wish to scorn fortune, Lord Tsuru? I thought you of all the daimyō feared the kami?”

The daimyō of Cranes shot Yuki a foul look but did not reply. He obviously did not like the idea of being watched by outsiders but was not going to risk rousing his master’s wrath. He slowly sat back down.

The Shōgun looked around the room, sensing the growing agitation in his vassals. “I wish to be honest now,” he stated, “And that, if anything, is what my title affords me, the right to be honest. It has been ten long years, but I am still not certain I can completely trust any of you. I can trust some more than others, and a few less than I would like. That kind of thing must be earned over time and with many proofs. So, until I can trust all of you completely, you must be willing to suffer my kind of thoroughness. I hope you can understand.”

The Lord of Ōgi stood and spoke up,” So you accuse us all of treachery, then?”

“I do not,” the Shōgun replied quickly. “But I do not want to find myself in the position where I can, for then it will be too late. I have simply taken precautions. Now you might be thinking, ‘If this is how all our councils are going to be, I will simply refuse to come.’ You may look around and see that one of us is missing and that might encourage you to think this way. But know this, the Akaii daimyō was given my express permission to remain in his territory, for you all know the hardships that have fallen on his house in recent months. He has been given this one chance, but if he fails to come again when called, there will be severe punishment meted out against him.”

“If we are going to go around punishing those who don't want to be here, why don't we just cut the pretense and do it now to each one of us!” Lord Tora snarled, not bothering to stand. “With all these new laws we are nothing more than figureheads. I can tell you I would not have come if I was not already in this wretched city!”

The other daimyō were becoming more animated, and their voices of anger were growing louder. The Shōgun was losing them, and he seemed to know it. His kingdom was hanging by a thread. Yet he knew that this would be their response. Indeed, he had counted on it.

“If I had wanted you all dead, I could have moved against you when I had the upper hand after I had defeated Yoshimitsu Akira and laid waste his castle!” he boomed, rising to his feet. “But I did not want you dead then any more than I do now. I aim to unify these Islands, and I cannot accomplish such a thing by myself. You are all an integral part and if you still do not believe me, listen for just a moment longer. While we sit here and squabble, a great wind blows in from the west.”

The Shōgun held out his ringed hand, and a servant appeared with a scroll of parchment. He placed it in the hand of the Shōgun, who opened it and read it aloud.

To the Chief Warlord of the Eastern Islands,

The illustrious Khahan, Lord of all the lands below Heaven, and Ruler of the various nations and tribes therein, requests a formal act of submission and surrendering of your territories. He has stretched his divine gaze across the sea and has seen your miserable country, rife with turmoil and devastation, and has planned to enlighten the people therein with his majesty and glorious culture. Present the Khahan with a tribute of gold, and other valuables from your lands, and the heads of all subordinates to yourself and who would rise in rebellion against our glorious sovereign. If you submit, the Khahan will allow you to remain a vassal under his absolute authority.

If you refuse, we will swallow you up like fire consumes grass. All resistance will be quickly crushed underfoot. Our hordes will come and ride across your lands as we have done to countless others. Our men will fill your women with our glorious bloodline, and your ways will perish from all thought and memory. Your islands will reek with the smell of the unburied dead for centuries to come.

Consider wisely what path you shall choose and do not delay in your response,

The Voice of the Khahan.

Silence stunned the room. The Shōgun slowly rolled up the scroll and gazed out upon his daimyō once again. What he saw now was intense indignation, but this time it was not focused upon him. “This threat of war came not long ago,” he said, lowering his voice and sounding contemplative. “I summoned you here to this council as soon as I received it. We all knew the threat had been growing in the West for some time, and especially this past year, but now this makes it all very real. This is not just a threat to us as noblemen, but to our people, our culture, to our way of life. Our scouts abroad report that the barbarians could have five hundred thousand soldiers, all told, and they could likely transport a fifth of them to our shores at a time. Still, that is far more than our number, for all counted, our strength is about sixty thousand, and that would be every last man.”

The men had been seething, but this great discrepancy seemed to quench the flames. They looked around at one another, murmuring and mumbling.

“So, we have come to the crux of it!” the Shōgun cried, lifting his voice. “Our new, unified nation is young, still but an infant and the time has come to make the critical decisions that will last generations beyond us! I for one will not become a dog of this unwashed warlord and present your heads to him as a present. For that, you should be quite pleased.”

There was a rumble of chuckling. They were coming over. Slowly, the daimyō were aligning themselves with the Shōgun. Yuki was impressed. Despite all the terrible things she had read about this Mashige, she could tell that he was a gifted orator.

“I believe that our islands are worth fighting for, worth killing for, and worth dying for!” he continued. “Shall we ride into battle, this time as kinsmen? Shall we make them fear the steel of our swords and the flame of our souls?”

A great roar of assent filled and shook the room like thunder. The daimyō had been roused, even the skeptical lords raised their sake cups to the sky.

After several drinks of good fortune and some raucous chanting, everyone began to sit down and quiet themselves once again. Now that war had been agreed upon, definitive plans had to be made.

Mashige initiated. “So, the next question arises, how must we meet our foe? They clearly have an advantage in numbers. But this is our land, we know it far better than they do. I would like your counsel on this matter, for after tonight we must work together to carry this plan out as quickly and as thoroughly as possible.”

At this, there was a long pause, as each daimyō considered what they should do next.

At length, the Kagi daimyō rose and gave his opinion. His dark eyes surveyed the other daimyō and then finally met the Shōgun’s unwavering gaze. “The barbarians have indeed caught us by the mouth,” he began gruffly. “We have just emerged from nearly one hundred years of pyrrhic battles, and our forces and resources are greatly depleted. They, on the other hand, have likely been planning this campaign for many years, perhaps for generations. If rumors from the West are true, this Khahan is not a man to be underestimated. He has expanded his realm across the wide continent, consuming peoples we have long worried about in a matter of a few years.

The last time the barbarians attacked us they foolishly underestimated the might of the Emperor, but of course, that line has long been extinguished. Therefore, I advocate we use what defenses we have and force them to waste valuable resources besieging our fortifications. Their lands are far across the seas and reinforcing their position will be costly and potentially risky. All the while we can begin to rebuild our own forces and pose for a counterattack. Yet, I do not think such a thing will happen in our lifetimes. If we are to survive this, we must think about the long term. It pains me to speak thus, but I fear it is our only option.”

The Kagi daimyō sat, and many other daimyō were nodding their heads in agreement.

“A wise council, Lord Kagi,” the Shōgun said. “Any other positions?”

There was another long pause, but this time the Elder Dragon, Lord Ryū, rose steady and sure. His clear voice rang throughout the hall. “While I respect Lord Kagi’s reputation as a master tactician,” he began, “I have to disagree completely with his plan for dispelling the barbarians from our native lands.”

This caused a rash of angry murmuring from the council so that the Shōgun had to lean forward and raise his hand, in order to still the voices.

The Ryū daimyō continued, maintaining his calm reserve. “If we allow them to land on our islands, a series of catastrophes are sure to befall us. For one, we will have given them what is likely the most difficult accomplishment for an invading army of that size, a place to set up their first camp. Once they have established themselves and created their own fortifications, a counterassault will be far more difficult.

Second, by allowing them to infiltrate our country, they will surely begin to harass our people and ravage the land, stealing and destroying our resources, resources we desperately need to rebuild our nation and sustain an army. They will also spread diseases, take our women, and force their culture and ways upon us. In the short term that might not be a problem, but if we are planning for the long term, as Lord Kagi has suggested, that could cost us everything.

My third and last point is this. The longer we allow the barbarians to reside here, the longer they have to use treachery against us. They will try to incite us against one another, as they tried to do in the letter. Although it enrages me to think one or more of us would betray this council and the Shōgun, I have seen such deplorable actions in the past and know that in a war they are all too common. Such empty promises from the barbarians will seem even sweeter when one has been waiting out a siege and has only eaten rats for several weeks.”

“Well said. But what in turn would you suggest that we do?” the Shōgun asked, chewing on the Elder Dragon’s words.

Ryū bowed his head, grateful that the Shōgun had shown interest in his proposal. “I suggest that we lead a sortie and meet them in battle where they land. If we can defeat their landing army, it may demoralize them and make them think twice before sending their full force.”

“It may also enrage them!” Kagi interrupted.

“Enough!” the Shōgun said, glaring at Lord Kagi. “I want to hear more. Who would lead this sortie?”

Ryū smiled. It was a thin, linear smile that only lifted at the very ends of his tight mouth. “I would, my lord.”

A tense silence followed this declaration. Nobody said a word.

Finally, the Shōgun spoke. “How many men would you bring?”

“As much as may be, my lord. I have five thousand soldiers trained and ready to fight. While it is not a vast number, these barbarians have little experience transporting and mounting an invasion over a large sea. Most of their wars have been fought on their own continent. There are only a few places where they could expect to land that many soldiers at once. I believe we can accurately predict their arrival. If we strike hard enough, we may be able to catch them in an awkward position and use their numbers against them.”

“A few thousands to a hundred thousand will not make much of a difference,” Kagi barked. “Even if you can predict their arrival.”

The Shōgun shifted on his cushion. He pursed his lips and considered both points.

“If it makes any difference,” the Tora daimyō said, speaking up, “You can count my men in among the Ryū.”

This was a stunning turn of events, and Yuki could hear the gasps of surprise. Were the bitter rivals planning to unite against this foreign enemy?

“I agree with the Elder Dragon,” the Old Tiger said plainly. “And since it is likely my lands will be invaded after his, I would rather take the fight to them before they can establish themselves.”

“How many?” the Shōgun, who now looked quite intrigued, asked.

“Five thousand,” he answered.

The Shōgun then sat back and massaged his forehead for a moment. “My first proclamation as Shōgun, if I remember correctly, was to end the Feud of the Tiger and Dragon. I did not think that after only ten years I would see you both unite in arms.”

Both Tora and Ryū looked at each other gravely. “The matter is urgent,” Tora said with a shrug.

“I see. That would bring us to ten thousand men. A small number for a sortie. I think we must do better against a force of this size. Would anyone else like to join in this courageous venture?”

“I shall,” the Henji daimyō stated, his soft voice barely audible among the others who were whispering amongst each other.

At this many of the other daimyō grumbled, including Lords Tora and Ryū.

“Where was this tadpole during the War of Ashes?” one of them scoffed.

“I heard he was only adopted by the late Lord Henji, he's not even a natural heir. What business does he have mustering a raiding party in the name of the Shōgun?”

“He has no proven experience in battle. He could muck up the whole venture.”

“Wisdom cannot be expected from fools,” another lamented.

But the Shōgun was not as sour on the idea as the others. He licked his lips and then stroked his beard, thinking hard. “How many men would you bring, Lord Henji?” he finally asked, as the others eventually quieted.

“We could mobilize another five thousand, my lord,” he replied politely.

The Shōgun nodded. He seemed to be coming around to the idea.

“My lord,” Kagi interrupted, as it was his idea that was being cast aside and he did not want to be embarrassed. “You cannot possibly be considering this…”

“I said, enough!” the Shōgun roared, his voice cracking like a whip. “I did not win these islands to see them so quickly teeming with barbarians! And I did not become Shōgun by sitting in castles! I was victorious through courage and fortune in battle. These brave warriors want to do their part, and I cannot fault them for it. Indeed, I would ride out with them myself if I did not have to consider the chance that this battle may not go our way. If that is the case, there must be some to defend what is left.”

He paused, looking out at each of his daimyō with probing eyes.

“The thought of these mongrels riding up to our beaches without losing a single drop of blood does not sit well with me. If you have any pride as a warrior, it should not sit well with you either. I am inclined to give them a battle to remind them that they will not easily take these islands, not without much frustration and anguish. If we fail, we can prepare for the long term, as the prudent lord Kagi has suggested. At best, we avert a war with one battle. At worst, a loss of fifteen thousand men will not utterly destroy us, we will still be able to defend with the combined might of our remaining armies, and even recruit from the peasantry if necessary.”

The room was quiet as everyone seemed to consider this course of action.

“Lord Tora, Lord Ryū, and Lord Henji are accounted for. Lord Kagi has made his opinion known to us. What of the others? Lord Buta?”

The big man scratched the back of his head. “Seems a bit crazy to me, but I don’t see much hope in it all either way. Do what you will.”

“Lord Tsuru?”

“I tend to agree with Lord Kagi but considering the state of my fortifications even now, ten years after the end of the war, I do not think we would be able to survive a siege. If you believe that you can thwart them before they can establish a foothold, then may the All-Kami guide you.”

“Ōgi?” Mashige asked, turning to the grim-faced daimyō.

“You know me well enough my lord. I will slay barbarians here or there if you command me to. Such filth should not even get a chance to land if it were up to me.”

Mashige’s eyes glittered, and he smiled. Finally, the Shōgun turned to the wizened Lord of Rabbits, Usagi. “You have not spoken much, my old friend. What do you make of this plan?”

The old man blinked a few times and warmed up his mouth by chewing before he spoke. “I do not question the means of the plan, but I do question the motives. In all my long life I have never seen the Tora and the Ryū join forces for anything. I wonder what has changed all of a sudden.” His old, beady gaze rested on both Tora and Ryū, who sat quietly, awaiting the verdict.

“I am what happened to them!” the Shōgun growled. “It was I who ended their feud and brought them together. I dare say it worked better than I imagined it would, but anyone can see the futility of such foolish actions when one has had years to reflect.”

At this both Tora and Ryū said nothing, but Yuki could tell that this boast was not altogether true. There still was deep anger between both men and both clans, but for some reason, in this instance, they had decided to quench the flames.

The Shōgun then picked up his sword, its sheath covered in shining black lacquer and glittering with the golden leaf patterns of the apricot flower. Around and hanging from the hilt were three braided cords, one was gold, the color of the Mashige Shōgunate, and the other two were black and white, the colors of the ancient Imperial line. Everyone grew still.

“Need I remind you of who I am and what my full title implies? You should already know that these islands are within my protection, particularly when it comes to outside invaders. This responsibility was bestowed by the line of the Emperor centuries ago, and though they are gone, the charge remains. While I did ask for your opinions on this matter, the final decision rests with me for it is my responsibility.

Therefore, listen to my judgment and do not fail me, for we have just tonight witnessed the punishment that falls on one who does. I wish to send the small but fierce raiding party to meet our enemy where they land, meanwhile, we will prepare to defend our strong places from these barbarians.” He stopped and acknowledged the Henji, Tora, and Ryū daimyō. “If you succeed and obtain victory, your rewards will be great, as will your fame for all time. Do not forget that.”

Then, all the lords and their aids rose and bowed low, for this was an official degree from the Shōgun, the highest-ranking lord on the Islands. When they rose, Yuki could see the bitterness on the faces of some of the daimyō who still resented this man as their overlord.

“It is getting late,” Mashige said, setting aside his sword. “We can continue discussions on the details of these matters over the next few days. At least now we know what is coming and have begun to set in motion our plans to respond. To be victorious we will need to work together, and so I am counting on all your assistance. If we prevail, we shall become a more unified and prosperous nation than ever before, and you will assure yourselves immortality in the annals of history. If we fail, well…” his eyes fell to the blood stain created by the death of the cupbearer, Hiroto Sagi. “May our blades be sharp, and deaths be glorious.” There was a general stirring in the room, but the Shōgun indicated he was not yet finished.

“There is one last bit of information I would like to mention before we conclude. I would like you all to send your falcons out tonight and make sure this is known throughout your territories. As some rumors and tales have rightly told, there is a man out there who indeed initiated the devastation that took place at Kagiminato. He was a prisoner but managed to free himself and took many lives in the process. He is dangerous, and the most notable feature of this peculiar brigand is that he is claiming to be…” he exhaled, “The Raijin.”

At this, a hush fell over the room. Yuki was frozen, but blood coursed through her veins like arrows loosed from the bowstring. “He is talking about my father!” she thought.

“Is he truly the Raijin?” the frail Usagi daimyō quietly asked. The sharpness of the question was not lost despite his languid appearance.

“Of course not,” Mashige scoffed, but Yuki observed the slightest hint of anxiety in his features. “He was slain during the battle of Yoshimitsu Castle, as were the rest of the Kurogumi.”

The Old Rabbit nodded politely. “As you say, my lord.”

There was something terribly wrong here, Yuki thought. “My father did not perish there!” she wanted to call out. “He was alive then, just as he is alive now!” She wanted to get up, to scream this at the top of her lungs. Ceremonial Eye or not, this was her father they were talking about. Her father!

Suddenly she noticed out of the corner of her eye, the figure beyond the screen. She could not see her move in any distinguishable way, but Yuki had the feeling that she was being watched. She felt the weight of two piercing eyes upon her, and this momentarily chilled her rage.

“This imposter seems to have an appearance similar to the old samurai, and he is obviously quite skilled and resourceful,” the Shōgun continued. “I want each of your territories on alert, and I want him captured if he is found.”

“No!” Yuki thought. “No! You don't understand! He is looking for me!”

“Such a dangerous man should be put down,” a voice came from beyond the Shōgun. The words were as soft as silk but were also as strong as tempered steel. There was a depth to them and a foreboding power like a great cavern in the heart of a mountain. It was the voice of one who spoke nothing but importance, and each word resonated with succulence. Yuki was once again stilled. This was the first time she had ever heard the voice of the Lady, and she suddenly wished that she had not been so eager to do so.

All the eyes in the room refocused on the silhouette of Lady Ishihara, even the Shōgun himself, who sat upon the dais. “That is quite true, my lady,” he said with restraint, before turning back to face his council. “If you can capture this man, you can expect to receive a great reward. We may be able to use him to aid us in this war. But if he proves too difficult to constrain, do not hesitate to kill him. But do not let the same misfortune that fell upon Sagi Hiroto fall upon you as well. We cannot afford to lose any other soldiers or cities for that matter. Not at any time, but especially not now.”

With that, the Council of Lords was adjourned, and each person in the room took one last cup of sake, as the proceedings were finished. Yuki was still upset, but she was called to exit first, and this became her primary focus. She stood and walked with as much grace as she could muster, considering all the eyes of the men were now on her. She turned at the head of the room and bowed, and again felt the eyes of the Lady cutting through the screen. Finally, the doors were closed behind her, and she was free to finally breathe. Her fortitude was waning, and by the time she had gotten to the entry area of the great hall, and met by Misasa, she was trembling.

“It’s all right,” Misasa said, taking her hand and leading her out. “You did great!”

“How did you know?” Yuki asked, clinging close to her friend and mentor.

“Come now! This is Ishihara! You weren't the only ‘eye’ in that room,” she said with a grin. And this, for some reason, made Yuki laugh.