Gaijin

Yellow-green sunlight filtered through the trees and lay dappled upon the 
forest path, twinkling and swirling in intricate patterns as the gentle breeze 
ruffled the leaves. Somewhere amid the trees the Gaijin noted the play of 
shadow and smiled. A hint of recognition, or perhaps of knowledge, in those 
clear blue eyes. The pleasant drone of insects, bustling and busy in the 
warm spring air, was broken by the steady clop clop of a dozen horses 
moving at an easy walk along the path. The riders obviously in no hurry and 
the mounts content to amble along, the more spirited snatching an 
occasional bite from the lush foliage.
Gohei scowled beneath the brim of his heavy kabuto. Another samurai 
would have schooled his face to a mask of impassive neutrality, but the 
Matsu warrior's brief attempts to marshal his temper succeeded only when 
he reminded himself that a samurai existed to serve his Daimyo. Any task. 
No matter how unpleasant. It was his duty, his honour, to perform 
unflinchingly. The scowl returned as he again considered that his mission 
would take him through the lands of the hated Crane. Even worse in Otosan 
Uchi he would be surrounded by sly honourless courtiers and simpering 
sycophants. His mount slowed as it approached a narrow stream then 
squealed and surged in pain as Gohei's forceful spurs drove it forward. A 
thin smile creased the corner of his mouth. All animals could be driven. 
Perhaps he would be lucky. Perhaps some inexperienced courtier would be 
rash enough, with the right prompting, to let slip an inopportune word. The 
merest slight. Gohei fingered the hilt of his sword as the smile broadened 
then collapsed back into a scowl. No. Given who would be at court it might 
be for the best if his katana remain safely in its sheath. Shadows flitted over 
the moss draped stones at the edge of the path and somewhere in the forest 
small white teeth twinkled in a smile that meant no more, yet no less, than 
the dance of light and shadow.

Behind their leader the dozen samurai checked their armour and 
weaponry and drew up into precise ranks. Their polished armour glinted in 
the sun and the red-gold manes cresting their helmets flowed back in 
leonine grace as they clattered down the street at a brisk trot. They had left 
the forest path two days ago and joined the imperial highway to the capital, 
but it was only this close to the palace that the roads were paved. Despite 
the rigid formality of their posture, several of the young samurai in Gohei's 
escort flicked their eyes left and right in awed wonder. For many this would 
be their first visit to the capital. Toshiro was the only Ikoma among the 
guards. No, he corrected himself, Matsu now. His aunt had married a Matsu 
and her husband had, with evident reservations, agreed to adopt the 
orphaned Ikoma. A bloody battle where the Crane's resistance and the 
plague that followed the wounded samurai back to their homes had freed 
Toshiro of what little family he had. Now, six years since the battle and two 
since his gempukku and formal adoption into the Matsu clan, he still had no 
more family than his aunt. He may be a Matsu in name but to the rest of the 
Matsu clan he would be forever an Ikoma.
Leading the procession Gohei glances neither left nor right. He has been 
to Otosan Uchi before and the sights do not draw his eye. He knows enough 
of the place to wish he were somewhere else. He muses briefly, a battlefield, 
some slain enemies upon the ground, their blood a crimson sheen on his 
blade. Yes. That would be much better. To come this far, to endure the 
expected innuendo of Kakita Yoshi, elegant words just a hair's breadth short 
of insult. Insufferable. And to do so on the word of a lying treacherous 
Scorpion seems the sheerest of  folly. Gohei's mount shies as jerks the reins 
and forces the thought down. It is not his place to question his Daimyo's 
commands and Tsuko was nothing if not definite about what she wanted. He 
eased up on the reins and settled back into the saddle as her words flowed 
through his memory.
"Gohei! You leave today. Assemble your men and be off before noon. It 
may be several days so you must present yourself to the Emperor each day 
and attend court until Toshimoko arrives." Though the rest of his face 
remained casually neutral he was sure the Scorpion's eyes crinkled in a 
smile as Gohei ground his teeth at the though of several days at court. 
"Then," she continued, "you are to offer yourself as Toshimoko's escort and 
guide for the time he must spend in Lion territory. I will not have any Crane 
unescorted on my land, even if he is the Emerald Champion!" Gohei bowed 
at her gesture of dismissal and hurried to horse, but once mounted his pace 
was leisurely. The journey to the capital taking half a day longer than 
normal. Half a day less he must endure the stifling formality of the 
Emperor's court. A twinge of guilt then fear, half a day that could cost him 
his head if Toshimoko has already departed on his unknown mission into 
the domain of the Lion. Leaning forward Gohei straightens his obi and 
adjusts his sword for the third time then urges his mount to greater speed. 
Alongside the road a peasant, dressed in utilitarian tan with a conical straw 
hat and an unusual heavy metallic bracelet wound around his left wrist, 
steps closer to the samurai and stands insolently upright as they rumble past. 
Gohei's hand strays to his sword hilt but the Palace beckons and Tsuko's 
command will brook no further delay.

The weather had been fine and Toshimoko had made excellent time on 
the road. Often the spring rains would leave the roads soft making travel 
slow and unpleasant but in the last week only a few light showers had made 
it past the mountains and the soil was firm except where snow melt or 
irrigation spilled across the roadway. As pleasant as the journey had been 
Toshimoko was pleased to wear the clean formal kimono that had remained 
safe and dry in his small travel chest instead of his plain riding clothes. 
Clothes that had required, but not received, washing for the past three days. 
His hurried path had taken him past Sleeping Thunder Mountain, whose 
range separates the lands of the Crane from the Phoenix to the north. The 
mountain inns lack the opulence of those in Crane lands and the cryptic 
words of the Isawa Oracle impelled him to a haste he would scarcely 
consider had there been anything more definite than vague rumours and 
hints of a shift in the balance of void that had even the Elemental Masters 
frowning and bickering over interpretations. South. A rather vague direction 
he mused. The first to theorise immediately assumed that south meant 
`South', as in deep south, far south, beyond Kaiu's Great Wall, and any 
threat from the corrupt and twisted monsters of the Shadowlands required 
swift and sure action. Many still feared this, but Toshimoko himself agreed 
with Isawa Ujina that the void was nearer the Phoenix who had first sensed 
it, in the lands of the Crane or those of their aggressive neighbours the Lion. 
No, he corrected himself, Ujina had forsaken that name and none now spoke 
it, or indeed spoke to the Nameless One who's twisted body plainly bore the 
cost of his past.
Hearing his name Toshimoko set aside his reverie and concentrated again 
on the eloquent babble of the Imperial Court. Beside him his young student, 
Reju, who had followed his master these past weeks rather than suspend his 
studies, knelt rigidly composed, far less comfortable in the Emperor's 
presence than his cousin Yosai had been. Students. How many had there 
been? Many, almost beyond counting. The Kakita kenjitsu master was 
famed throughout Rokugan and though they had treated him kindly 
Toshimoko's many years had seen equally many students beg for his 
instruction. Now, with the demands of upholding the Emperor's law he had 
little time to play sensei, but Reju had shown great promise and more than a 
little tenacity to still be at his master's side after weeks traversing Rokugan 
as the Emerald Champion attended to minor issues then rushed north when 
word arrived from Kyuden Isawa. Reju also looked up at the mention of his 
sensei's name, his brow furrowed as he tried to recall the name of the 
speaker.
"Again I ask the Emerald Champion what he and his magistrates will do 
about the `pirates' which plague our silk ships? It may be that Toshimoko 
sama does not know, if that is so then perhaps I should ask the honourable 
representative of the Crab if he knows anything of the dangers in the 
southern sea?" Hogosha barely contained the sneer. It was obvious who the 
Mantis advisor blamed for the loss of his clan's silk.
Toshimoko composed himself and began to formulate a response which 
would appease the Mantis without angering the Crab who were quick to 
take offence, especially if bluster or violence would distract attention from 
the occasional bit of mercantile over-enthusiasm by their Yasuki traders. He 
offered a word of thanks to the spirit of Lady Doji as the inelegant arrival of 
a Lion samurai and his entourage gave him a few more moments to shape 
his reply.
The verbose business of the court droned on for several more hours. 
Toshimoko had given his report to the Emperor that morning and though he 
would have liked to leave immediately he was the Emerald Champion and 
as the Emperor's chief magistrate his job required that he attend court and 
deal with the politics that often overshadowed the law of the Empire. The 
day had been long, but soon he would be able to retire in comfort. Reju's 
nodding, alternating with embarrassed concentration, betrayed his boredom. 
Toshimoko chuckled to himself. Another Doji more at home in the dojo 
than the palace. Despite his tiredness some subtle change in posture drew 
his attention to the Lion. Gohei. Matsu Gohei. A samurai of fearsome 
reputation, not one often found at court. Toshimoko berated himself for not 
paying closer attention to the Matsu when he saw the young warrior take a 
folded paper from his obi and read it. Several times. Obviously refreshing 
his memory, checking the words of some speech prepared by his Daimyo's 
advisors. Words far too polished to have been written by a man who more 
often wrote in blood and entrails than with a pen. Behind the Jade Throne 
Kakita Yoshi, the Imperial advisor, noted the Lions change in posture and 
spoke a few quiet words in the Emperor's ear then signalled Gohei, who 
edged forward and bowed deeply before speaking. Yoshi allowed himself 
the pleasure of a brief smile, which he carefully concealed behind his fan, at 
the young warriors flawed attempt to ape the correct court etiquette.
"Your Imperial Highness," Gohei began, "since your Emerald Champion 
is headed south and will soon be crossing my Daimyo's lands she has sent 
me to offer him my services as guide and honour guard so that none may 
doubt the esteem in which we hold him." With relief that he had completed 
those few words without faltering Gohei withdraws and turns toward 
Toshimoko to see what reaction this news will cause. Disappointingly the 
Crane remains composed, though hushed whispers can be heard behind the 
fans of several others about the court. "Another conflict between the Lion 
and Crane?" "Surely there will be bloodshed?" "This is not the first time 
that." The whispers fade as Gohei steels himself for Toshimoko's reply. 
The champion cannot possibly take offence? Can he?
Again Yoshi smiles. Even the Matsu advisors lack the skill to compose a 
speech as well as the least of Yoshi's Doji-trained courtiers. Even so, the 
content of his message was no laughing matter. The merest glance at 
Toshimoko is enough to tell him that this was information that the Matsu 
should not have known, but now that those words had been spoken there is 
no choice but to accept graciously. Toshimoko bows to the Emperor and 
addresses his reply to the throne.
"With Your Highness' permission I will gladly accept this kind offer 
made by our friends the Lion. It will be of great assistance to me to have so 
able a guide as I travel in Lion lands to enforce Your divine law."  Yoshi 
noted how ably his kinsman held the irony from his voice and duly 
appreciated the veiled threat. The Lion and Crane are anything but friends 
and whatever mission Tsuko has set her captain it is sure that no benefit to 
the Crane was intended. Still, Yoshi remained confident that the kenjitsu 
master would have no trouble dealing with this Lion brute whose scant wits 
allowed him to hold a sword, but with little to spare in puzzling over who 
and when to strike. Unfortunately, he reconsidered, when in doubt the Lion 
have frequently turned their attention to the most obvious of targets : their 
wealthy neighbour, Yoshi's own Crane clan.

For two days they had travelled the Imperial highway and now a goodly 
distance along some forest path that Gohei assured them was a shortcut to 
the Lion heartland. Reju was not surprised that in all that time he has hardly 
spoken a dozen words to his Lion escort. Nor was he all that disappointed. 
The antipathy went both ways. Of the few Lion, and especially the Matsu, 
that Reju had met he had yet to find one worthy of respect. At least worthy 
of any respect beyond that due to the savage mountain cat that was their 
namesake. Their leader, Gohei, was the worst, if only because he spoke 
most often. Loud. Arrogant. Uncouth. The tone he used with Sensei! Twice 
he would have challenged the braggart had his master not already reminded 
him that as Emerald Champion and one of the most noted Kakita duellists in 
Rokugan he is quite able to defend his own honour.
If Gohei was the worst then Toshiro, the young one who often seemed out 
of place, was the least objectionable. Perhaps because he had yet to say 
more than "Please pass the rice Reju san." Certainly he seemed to swagger 
less than the others and did not rest hand on sword hilt at often. No, he 
definitely did not swagger, but when he moved it was with a certain 
economy and balance that reminded him of Yosai sama on the practice 
floor. Certainly a swordsman who bore watching.
Straight in the saddle, the horse moving easily beneath him, Gohei 
splashes across the stream. The same stream he had passed but a few days 
ago, yet something is different. This time the musical plash of the water 
seems somehow to be laughing. This deep in Lion lands he had little cause 
for concern, but a careless samurai soon becomes a dead samurai. The water 
is too shallow to conceal more than a fish, nothing visible through the trees, 
a faint noise? Masked by the sound of the water? Something has attracted 
the Crane's notice. Head tilted slightly he gazes up stream, relaxed and 
unconcerned then quickly flicking his eyes forward and then right again as 
their mount's steady trot brings them clear of the trees into a clearing which 
follows the stream up the valley, a score of stumps standing mute testimony 
to the trees that have been cut and floated downstream, most likely during 
the thaw, the water now being too low to carry more than a sapling.
Cursing the Crane's keen eyesight Gohei follows his gaze. Nothing across 
the clearing, but up the valley, horsemen! His eyes widen in shock even as 
hard learned reflexes make his sword sing from its scabbard. Bandits this 
deep in Matsu territory! And mounted no less! Their armour the ragged mix 
common to brigands and ronin, but the swords clean and bright and horses 
that the unicorn will no doubt claim were stolen. Certainly better mounts 
than Gohei's own, little though he knows of horseflesh.
For the first time Reju is willing to forgive the Matsu their interference in 
his sensei's affairs. Any swordsmen between his master and those bandits, 
twenty at least, he is glad of. As Gohei screams a fierce battle cry and leads 
his men in a counter-charge Reju turns his horse and tethers it at the edge of 
the woods. He feels more confident from foot especially if there is a tree or 
two to discourage the charging riders. His master has already dismounted, 
but has not yet drawn his blade and is not even watching the riders, four of 
whom have evaded the Lion attack and leapt from horseback to follow him 
among the trees. He barely has time to catch a glimpse of the unarmoured 
tan figure on the far side of the clearing who has attracted his master's 
attention before the threat of the advancing bandit demands his complete 
attention. The clash of steel and the screams of the dying further up the 
valley fade to a distant hiss as the Doji duellist focuses his chi and looks 
through the first of his opponents, the one foolish enough to advance to 
attack before his companion can arrive in support. The one who raised his 
sword for a killing blow and wonders as he lies bleeding why the Crane 
does not join him in death.
There is no time for self-congratulation. The second bandit advances 
more cautiously and tests the young bushi's guard before attacking wrist, 
knee and side in a rapid flurry of blows. Reju stands suspended in cool 
water, his opponent's steel flows around and past him with barely a ripple 
and then, there! The smallest splash signals an opening and the bandit's 
guiding hand floats free in its own crimson eddy. The sodden thump of the 
body as it falls from his sword brings sound back into his world. The clash 
of Lion swords, quieter now. A soft hiss of fabric as Toshimoko wipes the 
blood from his blade and re-sheathes it. Again Toshimoko looks to the other 
side of the clearing, ignoring the two corpses at his feet, both killed with 
identical cuts to the chest, the wounds only visible by the blood which stains 
the mismatched armour. Reju can no longer see the tan figure, nor its 
conical hat, though he is troubled by a hint of recognition as he too cleans 
his sword. A hat. A bracelet. He has seen them before. The peasant outside 
the inn maybe. The small one that was leaving as he and his master stopped 
to rest on their return from Kyuden Isawa.
A competent performance, Toshimoko notes as he looks back on his 
student's opponents after checking the horses. A brilliant blow to dispatch 
the first before his opponent was even aware he was in danger. The second a 
more protracted engagement whose conclusion the Emerald Champion 
observed after dealing with his own foes. A classic finish, wrist then head, 
not that Reju needs to hear those words. Better that Toshimoko caution him 
about the risk he took committing so much to his first attack. Had he 
misjudged his opponent it could well be Reju upon the damp forest floor.
To the north the battle has stilled. Few remain standing, all of them 
bloodied, and not a single bandit. He has difficulty mourning the fallen 
Lion, many is the Lion that Toshimoko's own blade has dispatched. They 
gave a fair accounting he is forced to admit. Ten Lion, seventeen bandits. 
Even so he does not envy Gohei the task of reporting this to his Daimyo. An 
expensive victory that will not sit well when he must also report that the 
Crane emerged unscathed. No doubt he will find a shade of the truth which 
suits his purpose.

The bloodlust is slow to depart. Gohei's world is still tinged with red, his 
sword and armour sticky-slick with blood. The cold pain of loss turns his 
rage to icy anger as he surveys the fallen then raises his eyes to the two 
others still standing. One of his samurai and the Ikoma, worse luck. Down 
the valley he sees the two Cranes emerge from the forest. Cowards always. 
Hiding amongst the trees while his brave Matsu bore the brunt of the bandit 
charge. Not a scratch on the yellow scum. Probably didn't even dare draw 
steel lest the glint should draw combat their way. Gritting his teeth and 
mumbling another curse he searches for his horse and pulls a bandage from 
the travel pack. The Ikoma looks well enough, but the other samurai is pale 
beneath the grime of battle so with a grunt and a jerk of his head he throws 
Toshiro the bandages and sets him to work.
The task is simple for him, but touching anothers wounds is distasteful for 
Toshiro. Still they have no priest or doctor, so being the most junior the task 
falls to him. It is soon over and after offering his sole remaining companion 
some water to replace the lost blood Toshiro set about catching the 
uninjured bandit horses. Fine animals. Some are unusually coloured and all 
large enough that he suspects they must have come from the Unicorn lands, 
unlikely as that is given how jealously they guard their meadows. The last 
four are further down the valley, one in among the trees. Disliking the smell 
of blood the beast is wandering away from the bodies. Bodies! Four of 
them! A neat pair fallen side by side, then another two, one sliced nearly in 
half and the other without a hand and dead from a blow to the forehead. 
Toshiro hadn't even noticed that any bandits had gotten past his comrades. 
He looks up, one talking to his captain, the other minding two horses. 
Assured that both Cranes are still alive he returns to the bodies, recreating 
the battle in his mind. The stories he has heard of the Kakita iaijitsu masters 
take on more weight as he surveys the scene. He would expect no less from 
the Emerald Champion, but even the young Doji must have accounted for 
two of the corpses. Toshiro himself only slew three, as did his captain, and 
he has several minor wounds for his trouble. Most of the other Matsu fell in 
the conflict taking only one opponent with them. This young Crane bears 
watching. Beyond the trees Gohei is speaking loudly, the Crane replies 
more softly, but his words are firm and cold. Toshiro does not want to hear. 
He moves deeper into the forest after the horse any by the time he has 
caught it the others stand in stony silence.
"Ikoma! String those horses together. Chokoku will be returning to Shiro 
Matsu to inform our Lady and send priests for our samurai." shouted Gohei. 
The Crane must have refused to divert his path.
Toshiro attended to his task with no more than a quiet "Hai, Gohei sama." 
Now was not the time to remind his captain, again, that he was now a 
Matsu.

As before, Gohei rode at the head of the column, followed by the two 
Cranes then Chokoku trailing a long string of riderless horses. Toshiro 
guards the rear, happy to be temporarily beyond the reach of his senior's 
foul humour. His peace does not last long though. As soon as they had 
cleared the forest Gohei rejoined his argument with the Crane Champion.
"Please reconsider Toshimoko sama. It is but a short distance to Shiro 
Matsu. My liege needs to hear of this bandit attack and who better to help 
my Daimyo investigate this lawlessness than the Emerald Champion 
himself?" asked Gohei, his tone more polite than before. Almost pleading.
Toshimoko suppressed a sour smile and chided himself a little for 
refusing to discuss his path with the Lion samurai. It was needlessly cruel to 
bait the Lion and refuse to journey to Tsuko's castle, especially since the 
Lion had suffered such serious losses and Toshimoko himself had not yet 
decided which road to take. Needless, but human. He still rankled that the 
Lion had gone to Otosan Uchi to ensure he could not enter Lion land 
unescorted. Even without this slight the history of conflict between Lion and 
Crane left him predisposed to thwart the Lion whenever possible. Still his 
first loyalty must be to the Emperor and baiting the Matsu in no way 
furthered the Emperors ends. "I am sorry Gohei, do not let me keep you 
from your duty. If you really must return to your Daimyo I will not impede 
you. Even though your assistance has been invaluable it would be selfish of 
me to let my desire for your company interfere with your duty to your Lady. 
I am sure now that we have left the forest my student and I will be safe 
enough without your escort." Throughout his words Toshimoko watched the 
colour slowly rise in Gohei's face. True Matsu blood he mused. As ready to 
die as to kill he thought, noting the way the samurai's fingers twitched near 
his sword hilt. Before the Matsu had a chance to say anything foolish 
Toshimoko continued in a more placating tone. "Does fortune smile upon 
you Gohei? I do not choose my own path this day, it lies in the hands of 
fate, or in my karma." As he spoke the old Crane brushed back a long strand 
of grey hair that had blown free then dug a small soft pouch from a fold in 
his obi.
The late afternoon sun shimmered on the iridescent fabric, the highlights 
of jade and gold drew every eye save that of Chokoku who stood aside, 
awaiting Gohei's permission to depart. Fresh blood spotted the wounded 
warrior's bandages and with all his energy devoted to keeping his feet none 
could be spared on sightseeing. The two Matsu crowded closer as 
Toshimoko knelt down and poured an irregular assortment of small stones 
from the pouch. They lay glittering in his palm,  obsidian, pearl, jade, ruby, 
granite and steel, each inscribed with a tiny symbol. Rolling the stones back 
and forth across the palm of one hand he spreads the pouch out flat on the 
grass then slamms his cupped palm down on the cloth. With an over-loud 
clicking the stones rattled and then are silent. A moments hesitation, perhaps 
to ensure that all movement has ceased, then slowly the hand rises to reveal 
three stones clustered slightly to the west : jade, ruby and obsidian, all with 
the characters uppermost. Face down in the north lay stone, in the centre 
metal and to the south west pearl.
Gohei's brow furrowed in concentration. "What does it mean?" he 
whispered, unsure what would notice if he spoke loudly. 
Toshimoko indicated the face down stones with a finger. "These have 
passed." Moving to point at the cluster and describing a circle of three 
stones. "These have yet to be, and here," pointing at last at the shiny black 
stone, "lies that which we seek. The void." He shrugged.  "So says the 
Nameless One, who knows more of the Void than I would ever care to 
learn."
Gohei peered closer. "It is a map," he breathed, still not willing to raise 
his voice. "What do the different stones mean?"
"The elements, water, earth, metal, wood, fire and void. What more they 
mean I do not know, except that we follow the void for it is void that 
combines and controls all others." The Crane's words sounding loud after 
the Matsu's quiet question.
"Wood? Metal?" Reju asked. "What of air? Are there not five rings?"
"An older set I think, when metal and wood were though separate from 
earth and the shugenja had yet to recognise the force of air." Toshimoko's 
voice sounded unsure, words recited from memory but not fully understood.
Gohei stood and went to his horse, removing a message tube from travel 
pack and withdrawing a scroll. With his commander's place briefly vacant 
Toshiro could now see the stones more clearly. The drew his eyes. In. 
Down. Dizzy in the depths he could not move or blink, could not pull his 
gaze away until Gohei's return blocked his view. With a grunt of surprise 
Toshiro stumbled back. Something was wrong. His mind still cloudy he 
looked about. No sign of danger, but something.
"We are here," said Gohei, pointing to the map, "if these stones are like a 
map and we are in the middle then this, the stone, would be to the north, in 
Crane lands, or Phoenix."
Toshimoko nodded. "Then pearl to the south west would be near the 
Scorpion." His voice trailed off as he looked up in time to catch Gohei 
blink in surprise. "I see," he continued, a touch more coldly, "then metal 
would be near here, where we are." Again Toshimoko let his words fade 
as he saw the realisation dawn in Gohei's eyes. Metal. Swords. Ten dead 
Lions. For Gohei this had just become very personal.

Reju had stood while his teacher and the Lion bushi examined the map. 
He didn't feel well and bending down made him feel worse. Unbalanced. 
The other samurai had also moved back from the stones and was staring into 
the distance, his face flaccid and blank. Reju coughed and stepped toward 
him, then when there was no  response he called "Toshiro?" and reached out 
to touch the other warrior's sleeve.
With a start Toshiro spun round, at first confused, then his eyes grew 
wide. He pointed to the empty plain, his mouth working several times 
before the words would come. "Sir! The horses!"
Gohei and Toshimoko looked up, following the pointing hand and seeing 
nothing. Both leapt to their feet and turned, searching in all directions, but 
of Chokoku and the string of captured horses there was no sign. There was 
nothing in sight, nowhere they could hide except among the trees. 
Impossible that more than twenty mounts could pass unnoticed.
"Sorcery!" Gohei hissed. "What Phoenix trickery is this Toshimoko? 
Have you cursed me with those stones? If so you shall pay in blood!" The 
Matsu screamed his challenge to the Emerald Champion, sword already half 
drawn from its sheath.
For the first time Reju saw his sensei's composure waver. For a moment 
the old Crane carried the full weight of his years as he looked around, 
searching for an explanation, or words that would placate the Lion. 
Toshimoko did not want to have to kill the young Matsu. A death here, on 
Lion land, at the hand of a Crane could well lead to war. Reju watched the 
subtle shift in his masters balance, a movement that would be followed by 
the Lion's death as surely as winter follows the fall.
"Answer me!" screamed Gohei, advancing, the drawn blade already red 
in the afternoon light.
"I am not to blame," Toshimoko said simply, "put down your blade."
The silence stretched endlessly, the Crane composed with zanshin born of 
a hundred duels, the Lion livid with anger, bursting with the need to kill. A 
wave cresting, ready to crash down on an unyielding shore. Over the weight 
of silence Reju heard the soft scrape of fabric. Toshiro hears it also. As one 
they speak.
 "Look! The void!"
Gohei turns to see the obsidian stone. It lies near the middle of the 
unusual pouch, near the metal, but it moves a little then, faster than the eye 
can see, it leaps to the west and ends nestled between jade and ruby.
"My quarry is on the move." Toshimoko notes, still dividing his attention 
between the stones and Gohei.
"Our quarry" the Lion samurai corrects, forcing the steadiness into his 
voice as he sheathes his katana. Gohei turns away then kneels. Reverently 
he removes the katana from his obi and lays it down. He then bows and 
offers a prayer to the spirit of the blade for the slight of sheathing it 
unquenched. By the time he has finished the Crane has packed away his 
stones and their strange, glittering bag and has readied his horse.
"Your Daimyo can wait Gohei, we ride west." Toshimoko pauses, adjusts 
the angle of his own sword and leaves his hand suggestively on the hilt. "I 
am the Emerald Champion samurai, I go on the Emperor's business. If you 
draw your sword against me a second time or impede the Emperor's law I 
will cut you down where you stand." He stares unblinking until Gohei drops 
his gaze and nods. The highest magistrate in Rokugan swings into the 
saddle and leaves the others to hurry to horse and follow him into rosy glow 
of the sun as it sinks toward the horizon. Reju follows behind his master 
rather than riding as usual at his side. Behind him Gohei and Toshiro mount 
up and follow in silence. The hairs prickle on Reju's neck. "This will not 
last," he thinks, "the lion is not a beast that tames easily."

The countryside is alive and noisy. Water splashes in irrigation ditches as 
laughing and chattering peasants finish flooding the paddies and walk in 
small groups back toward their village. Evening insects drone amongst the 
grass. Gohei calls out, "There is a tea room in this village Toshimoko 
sama," with just a little too much emphasis on the sama.
Toshimoko seems to take little notice of the Lion, he is looking to the left 
at a peasant. One who is standing near the edge of the path, not walking 
with the others to the village. A little below average height, unexceptional 
clothes of a dirty tan, such as any peasant might wear. His face is hidden by 
the conical straw hat and the angle from which the mounted samurai look 
down on the diminutive peasant. "Is that the same one Reju? The one we 
saw near the Palace?"
Reju's reply is lost in Gohei's shout, "That peasant! He is carrying a 
sword!" The Lion leaps from his horse and strides toward the roadside 
where the peasant remains standing. Not kneeling in the dirt. Not fleeing in 
terror. Eyes down and features still concealed by the hat brim. Halfway 
Gohei comes to a halt and turns to Toshimoko, "With your permission 
Emerald Champion sama." Again his words honey sweet.
The old Crane begins to raise his hand, to deny permission. This could be 
the same peasant, perhaps a valuable clue to the void, but half way his hand 
stops, then lowers. He dips his head in a brief nod. Reju looks to his master 
in surprise but Toshimoko's expression betrays nothing, the eyes 
unfathomable.
From the rear Toshiro, who has moved up to hold the reins of his 
captain's horse, says quietly "It is the same peasant," but nobody hears.

Gohei turns toward the peasant, hand on sword hilt. "You, peasant, by 
what right do you bear a samurai's sword?" The peasant does not reply and 
the Lion continues his advance. "The penalty for banditry is death, as our 
esteemed Emerald Champion will be sure to tell you." Still the peasant 
remains silent, though now he raises his head. Smooth, child-like features, 
clear round blue eyes, small perfect white teeth showing between soft pink 
lips parted in a mocking smile. Gohei reels back as if struck. "A Gaijin!"
Finally the Gaijin speaks. "I bear a sword because it is mine, Gohei san." 
His words are light, pitched a trifle high, like the voice of a child, but 
intelligible despite the strangeness of his accent. Old sounding. Like the 
language of court or the stilted words of dusty old scrolls. "I bear a sword to 
test if you are the one, samurai." Now he draws the weapon and it slides 
from his simple rope belt in one piece. Not a katana, a boken.
With a shout Gohei grasps his blade, the steel ringing with the speed of 
the draw. "This time," he promises "this time you shall taste blood!" It is 
over quickly at least, no cruel toying with the prey, as a cat with mouse. 
Tap. Tap. Steel rings. Crunch. Armour buckles and the Lion slumps inert to 
the ground.
The Gaijin bends down and frees the straps securing the helm then 
pushing the chin one way, then the other he inspects the face of his fallen 
foe. "No. You are not the one." 
Springing backward the strange Gaijin arcs into the irrigation ditch beside 
the road. There is no splash and Toshiro who is the first to the bank can see 
no sign, not even a ripple upon the water. Behind him his captain groans 
and fights his way back to consciousness. Toshiro fetches water, tries to 
help the wounded man to his feet. Gohei shakes him off with a growl. 
Embarrassment hiding behind anger.
"Filthy Gaijin tricks." He mutters as he stumbles back to his horse, not 
meeting Toshiro's eyes.
Toshimoko remains impassive. He takes no pleasure in the impudent 
Lion's defeat. The outcome of the fight had been plain to the Champion as 
soon as he had looked, really looked, at the Gaijin. This is he. Toshimoko 
does not need to draw the stones and cast them. He can feel the obsidian 
within the pouch tugging westward. Drawing him toward the village.
Reju is younger, less mature. He could not stifle his pleasure at Gohei's 
defeat, even if wanted to. A warning glower from his sensei stops him short 
of an audible chuckle. Poor etiquette. He bows his head in shame as he 
remembers the lesson : "Always respect your opponent. That you defeat him 
does not make him a lesser man. Nor are you diminished if a superior foe 
bests you in battle. The only way you shrink from the sight of the gods is to 
walk a path without honour. In this your only opponent is yourself." Reju 
hears the words as clearly as if Toshimoko had spoken them aloud. Bushido 
is an unyielding master.
From the back of the line, again unheard, Toshiro murmurs "The void."

It is only a short ride to the village and the shadows of dusk much deeper. 
Laughter, song and the clink of dice can be heard from the tea house. The 
only building in the small village with a sheltered porch and lanterns 
hanging below the eaves. Bright and cheery and already attracting the night 
insects. Gohei's head hurts. His helmet dented and useless hangs from his 
travel box. A hot bath, some warm sake, perhaps a young girl to massage 
away the fatigue of the road. Tomorrow is soon enough to think about 
finding the Gaijin. He cannot escape again. Those piercing blue eyes. The 
soft mouth. There is no way he can hide unnoticed among the peasants. We 
will dig him out, then he will pay. Gohei is still unsure how the Gaijin could 
have escaped, for that matter he is still unsure quite how he came to find 
himself upon the ground and the Gaijin gone. Still, how could the three of 
them let him escape? Time enough for that tomorrow. That inn looks so 
inviting. So cheery.
He straightens in the saddle. It is spring. Not harvest time. Unusual for so 
many peasants to be drinking. The first rice crop has barely been planted, 
but there are so many, some of the revellers are even sitting on the veranda 
drinking, a tray of sake bottles beside them. Sake? How can peasants afford 
sake? The Crane seem oblivious. Hah! The Crane know nothing beyond the 
schemes and lies of the Imperial court. They are lost on a battlefield or here 
beyond the artificial falseness of the courtier's world. Gohei edges his 
mount in beside the Ikoma, no, this time Gohei does correct himself. The 
boy is technically a Matsu and, he is forced to admit, he has done well. 
Many a proud Matsu fell when they were overwhelmed by the bandits, but 
the boy came through with no less than three heads to is credit. "Toshiro," 
he asked, "have you ever been to this village before?"
"Hai Gohei sama, last year my patrol passed here twice." He answered.
"Are there not an unusual number of peasants drinking?"
"Hai Gohei sama."
"So I thought. Stand ready boy, stand ready."
The Cranes had already dismounted, waiting boys taking the reins and 
leading the horses around behind the inn. Gohei also dismounts but motions 
Toshiro to his side and stands back and to the left. His eyes searching the 
revellers as even more stagger out into the dim lamplight, drinks in hand. 
There, to the right, squatting against the wall and partially hidden behind a 
dishevelled peasant wearing old leggings but a new tunic. A new tunic with 
long sleeves. The telltale outline of a kasa, a conical straw hat, tilted down 
to cover the face. The dishevelled peasant raises a hand to drink. His long 
new sleeve falls back to show a hint of colour upon his arm.
Gohei inclines his head toward the right, not wishing to alert the enemy, 
and whispers to Toshiro "Yakuza, and behind him the Gaijin." Even as he 
speaks the two Crane stop, Toshimoko with his foot on the first step up to 
the raised veranda. Inside the tea house the music and gambling continue, 
but outside the laughing voices fall still and delicate sake cups crash to the 
weathered old boards as hands draw clubs and retrieve bo staves from 
beside the doorway.
Gohei's scream cuts the night. "Matsu! Attack!" Steel blurs as he charges 
in behind the Crane, taking the enemy where they are constricted by the 
base of the stairs and, coincidentally, cutting off the Crane's line of retreat. 
Ah battle, Gohei exalts as he cuts down the first thug, not the false posturing 
of a duel. Honest blood-soaked battle with another Matsu warrior at his side. 
"Maaatsuuu!" he roars, severing an arm which falls along with the club it 
held in a shower of red, the return cut disembowelling another. The Matsu's 
eyes blaze as he notes another two ranks of enemy pushing to join the fray. 
Ah my sweet, you shall drink well tonight.
"There are too many!" Reju's voice is tight, edged with panic. "Too." 
Cut. "Damned." Parry, riposte. "Many." Thrust. The Yakuza is unarmoured 
and Reju's katana slices deeper than he had intended before it grates to a 
stop against the dead thugs spine. He is over extended, too slow in 
retrieving his blade. "It was never like this in the dojo," he thinks as a jo 
stick crushes the air from his lungs and a second blow booms like thunder 
against the side of his head. "Not like this at all."
Toshimoko can see the Gaijin, still on the porch, removed from the 
chaotic conflict. The foreigner watches Reju slump to the ground. His head 
moves from side to side in disapproval as the older Crane moves to protect 
the body of his fallen student. Pinned to one spot he also will surely fall. 
Already he has been forced back from the stairs and more of the false 
peasants are moving out to flank him. The ground is slick with blood and 
Toshimoko's left foot slips as he stoops to lift Reju. A blow glances from 
his helmet as he grunts with the effort of lifting the young Crane one 
handed. Another blow, a cunning strike with a long staff from a Yakuza still 
on the stairs slides between two of Toshimoko's opponents and hammers 
his knee, driving the old kenjitsu master to the ground. More blows rain 
down. One. Two more abandon life to his blade before the old master sags 
to the ground, crushed beneath the weight of his foes. Nor are you 
diminished if a superior foe bests you in battle.
"Matsu!" Again and again the battle cry shatters the night air, driving 
opponents before it. The ranks of enemy have thinned. A prodigious heap 
lies near the still form of the young Crane, a larger mass swarm over the 
Emerald Champion bearing him down and pummelling the warrior prone. 
Gohei charges and dismembers two before they can free themselves from 
the fallen. The remainder retreat a step to regroup. Side by side the two 
Matsu advance. Only six of them. "Good," Gohei thinks to himself, "We 
have them out numbered."
Upon the veranda the Gaijin draws his sword and moves down the stairs 
with a measured tread. Unconcerned, as if the two samurai before him had 
not already dispatched ten times their own number. Eleven, as more spend 
their lives upon Matsu steel. Without seeing, with the awareness of true 
warrior, Toshiro senses his captain hesitate for the barest instant, pinned by 
the Gaijin's chi. His last battle cry dies on his lips even as another Yakuza 
dies on his sword. A heavy staff slapping the side of the Lion's unarmoured 
head.
"Three. I can take three more." Toshiro coaches himself, over and over. 
The swirl of the melee takes him away from his companions, toward the 
side of the inn where the thugs cannot surround the lone samurai. He is 
peripherally aware of the Gaijin, moving bodies, tilting chins, shaking his 
head and moving on. "Two. I can take two more. One."

The last staff fighter flees. Toshiro does not pursue him because the 
Gaijin has finished his grisly examination and is approaching with the same 
measured tread, as if this were a contemplative garden rather than a 
battlefield. Boulders and raked gravel instead of bodies and blood. Toshiro 
steps forward, he needs the room to move. To dodge. The Gaijin trails his 
sword, half hidden behind the peasant leggings which now look cleaner, 
whiter in the lamp light, than before. White. The colour of mourning.
Toshiro charges to the attack, screaming "Matsu! Matsu" like his 
commander before him, then "Ikoma!" The Gaijin's sword snaps up into 
guard, daring Toshiro to charge onto its point, then with a stamp and an odd 
little shuffle he deflects Toshiro's blade and taps the side of his helm. He is 
not smiling now. The pale blue eyes glint like ice in the yellow light of the 
rising moon. Another attack and again the effortless riposte that leaves the 
Lion's ears ringing. Void. Not cold. Not black. Just not. Toshiro can feel the 
gulf opening up before him as the Gaijin speaks. Still the same high childish 
voice, incongruous amidst all the carnage.

"Do you enjoy this? The blood. The killing"

The only way you shrink from the sight of the gods is to walk a path 
without honour.

"There is another way."

In this your only opponent is yourself.

Yes. He is the one. The Gaijin lowers his sword. "Come. This is not your 
place. Come with me. I am going to make you a star."

Somewhere in the heavens, or twinkling on a silver screen, a new light 
rises in the universe, grows bright and inevitably, as the wheel turns, returns 
to darkness.

Rest well Toshiro my friend. Rest well.