“We are in Scorpion lands, Hamesu-san” replied Mirumoto Irozu, as he clambered off his horse and led the animal off the paved road and down towards a stream.

“I know we’re in the Scorpion lands. I also know that the Scorpion Clan were exiled from the Empire,” snapped Hamesu. “We’ve been wandering the wilderness too long, Irozu.”

“Some would not call the Crab lands ‘wilderness’.”

“I would call the Crab many things, few of them complimentary.” Hamesu rode up to the bridge and examined the milestone planted on the near edge of the riverbank. “Twelve miles to Ryoko Owari. I have heard that there is a good inn not far from here.”

“Hai…then what? You will not find your quarry in an inn,” said Irozu. The midday sun shone off the crystal-clear waters of the stream, and Irozu seemed surrounded by a corona of sunlight. Herubbed his scarred chin.

“I want news, hot food, and a clean bed for once…then we will look for Elemental Darknesses and tales of ninja. The thing the Naga fear is somewhere in the lands of Bayushi’s children. We will find it, Irozu.”

Irozu looked up at his companion. “I would be happy with simply finding the Inn for now, Hamesu.”

Irozu sat in a quiet corner seat and wondered at the strange new feeling that had come over him in the last fortnight – relaxation. His mind drifted back to a long-ago time, in the foothills of the Dragon Mountains, when the air had been torn open and Naga troops had emerged, black arrows loosed from their bows before the wounds in the air had closed. Ever since the first days of the war with the Naga, Irozu had walked with death by his side. From the siege of the southern forts, to the ill-planned counter-attack from the Dragonfly lands, to the nightmare of Sleeping Mountain, and for all of Hamesu’s quest for revenge, Irozu had been at war with the world. Mirumoto’s Niten had taught him to be of one mind, that his every stance should be readiness for battle, but there was a subtle difference now in Irozu’s soul. He was still always ready, but something had changed since they had arrived in the Inn. Death had left his side. Deep in his soul, he was open to the world again.

The samurai shifted in his chair and lifted his cup. Over by the fireplace, a Crane storyteller had completed her tale, and an Ikoma stood and took her place. The Ikoma’s deep voice flowed over Irozu’s consciousness. He did not try to follow the thread of the tale; he merely listened to the wordless flow of sound. A deep and healing calmness welled up from inside him.

The inn’s door swung open, letting a rush of cold air sweep into the inn. Rainwater blew in the door, hissing as it struck torches and hot stones. Kitsuki Hamesu entered the inn, handing a sodden cloak to a servant. The Kitsuki’s face was almost unreadable, but slight furrows in his brow betrayed his control.

Then he fell heavily into the chair opposite Irozu, and spoke with all the reserve and stoicism that Irozu had come to expect from Kitsuki Hamesu. “To call the Scorpion scholars is like inviting Lady Sun to dinner – polite, but pointless and incorrect. When the Yogo let you into their much-praised libraries, you discover that they have more codes and ciphers than…than…well, anything, but they aren’t hiding anything! Their scrolls are nothing more than a lie concealing an untruth containing a mystery containing a secret, revealing nothing. The Soshi have sealed their vaults, the Shosuro won’t speak to me, and the Bayushi spent five days trying to worm their way into my heart before finally breaking down and telling me they rely on the Yogo and the Soshi for lore. The peasants here are far less educated than our own, Irozu, and as for the old legends and tales I hoped to find, Irozu, well, there are thousands of stories of black-clad assassins walking through walls and shadowy tricksters doing the impossible, but none of them have anything useful in them at all.” The inn’s owner, Hituro, passed by their table and silently placed a steaming teacup before Hamesu. Irozu acknowledged their host’s politeness, but Hamesu was lost in his diatribe.

“We have travelled from the northernmost reaches of civilisation to this hive of scum and villainy. We have argued with magistrates, samurai, ancestor spirits, ghosts, Ise Zumi, and Togashi Hoshi himself. We have fought Naga and bandits. We’ve been arrested and threatened with death more time than I wish to recall. And after all those travails and tests, we persevere tenaciously, and reach the Scorpion lands…” Hamesu lowered his head. Irozu knew what was coming. “where we find that NO-ONE knows ANYTHING about ANYTHING at all, and they spend hours lying, politicking and generally wasting time before actually admitting that!”

“Your journey to Shiro No Yogo proved fruitless,then?”

Hamesu stared at Irozu, and said in a voice full of forced calm and sweetness. “Yes, Irozu-sama, my journey to the Yogo was quite useless. No matter. My oath of vengeance is but a little thing, and we won’t worry about it. Have you enjoyed your day at the Inn?”

“Hai. I spent the morning sparring and practising, and in the afternoon I found a merchant who will be travelling to Kyotei-ju, near the Dragon lands. He will carry letters home for us, should you wish to write one.”

“My family is dead, Irozu. I can think of few who would read a letter from me, and none to whom I wish to write.”

“You may also wish to know that Alucard and Kayakino are still sequestered in the upper room.” Irozu was referring to a Scorpion samurai who had been attacked during the week, and another who was engaged in helping his recovery.“No. I did not wish to know that.”

Irozu nodded. “I believe, Hamesu-san, that I will listen to the stories being told. Excuse me. Please refrain from running off on foolish investigations with strangers until tomorrow.” The tall samurai stood and strode over to another seat closer to the fire.

Hamesu scowled into his tea and drummed his fingers off the table. The noise of the common room abraded his nerves, sending waves of pain through his temples. A terrible feeling of futility and failure welled up from the pit of his stomach. To have come so far, with such determination – only to end in a roadside inn, bereft of direction. He had come to a blank wall in his investigations; there were no more clues or hidden signs to follow. He swallowed the last of his tea, and examined the tea leaves which clung to the cup like shipwrecked sailors.

A shadow fell over him. He looked up into the ornate gilded mask of a Scorpion samurai. The newcomer bowed, and said “Kitsuki Hamesu-sama? I am Shosuro Hotai. My daimyo has heard of your exploits, and wishes to meet you tonight.”

Hamesu stood and bowed, then gestured for Hotai to sit in the other seat. “I am honoured that a noble Scorpion daimyo would take notice of such an unworthy one as I. Your lord’s perception is to be commended” said Hamesu.

The Scorpion remained standing. “My lord awaits, Hamesu-sama. Will you please follow?”

“One moment – I must inform my companion, Mirumoto Irozu.” Hamesu looked towards the fireplace, but there was no sign of the tall samurai. Hamesu bowed to Hotai, then walked across the common room to the passage leading to the guest rooms. A horse whinnied outside the Inn. Hamesu slipped past a servant carrying a tray of hot rice balls, and glanced down the corridor. The door to Irozu’s room was closed. Hamesu knocked, and a moment later Irozu opened the door. A breath of chill air struck Hamesu. Beyond Irozu, the small room was spotlessly clean and tidy. A window overlooking the side of the inn was open.

“Irozu, there is a Scorpion, Shosuro Hotai, in the common room who tells me that his daimyo wishes to meet us tonight.”

“We are honoured. Let us go quickly.”

The five rode off into the twilight. Hamesu clung to the back of his horse, peering into the darkness. The steed seemed to know where it was going, and the steady rhythm of hoof-beats on stone swallowed up the miles. They followed the paved road until it came a cross-roads. From this vantage point, Hamesu could see the lights of Ryoko Owari beneath them. In the night, the city seemed to be a brightly shining island in an ocean of all-consuming darkness. He half-expected the Scorpions to take the branch of the road that lead down to the city, but instead they turned south, taking a course parallel to the river, Kawa no Kin.

The road was built on a raised embankment by the river, above the flood plains. As the tireless horses ran on, the river glistened in the moonlight in a strange, eerie manner, as if it were some vast black serpent slithering alongside them. Hamesu closed his eyes and trusted the horse to carry him safely. After a few hours, they reached a small, wooden bridge that arched over the river. It was only wide enough for a single horse to cross at a time. Hotai spurred his horse and it cantered across the span. Another Scorpion followed. Lord Moon glared out from behind a cloud as the Scorpion reached the apex of the arc, and Hamesu saw him silhouetted against the silver waters of the river. The Scorpion’s features were lost in the darkness. Mirumoto Irozu crossed next, and Hamesu could not discern his face either in the moonlight. The other Scorpion grunted. “You are next to cross, Kitsuki-sama.”

They followed the stream until it opened into a small lake nestled in the hills. Pine trees grew by the waterside, and rocks jutted from the lake. On the far hillside, a small fortress stood, almost lost amid the trees. The moon rising above the fortress turned the lake into liquid silver, and the reflections of the trees writhed and clawed at the moon.

A narrow path threaded through the trees and came to the gates of the fortress. As they approached, the gates were opened, and the five arrived in the small courtyard. Waiting for them was a masked man dressed in red-and-black silk. He waited until Hamesu and Irozu had dismounted, then bowed.

“Welcome to the Summer House of the family of Toshiro. Call me Kaibe, and let us not stand on ceremony. I have heard the Dragons, in their wisdom, dispense with much formality and associated bowing and scraping. Let us do likewise.”

Hamesu bowed low. “Hai, Kaibe-sama. May I ask if it was Lord Toshiro who called us here, and why?”

“Bayushi Toshiro-sama is long since departed. I am steward and guardian of this place. It was I who called you here, for I have heard of your quest and wish to speak with you. Please – I know the hour grows very late indeed, but will you not join me in a light supper before I show you to your rooms?”

“Silence, Hamesu-san. Do not worry” replied Irozu. Kaibe led the two Dragons into a large room, and closed the door after them. The room was divided up by black paper screens, and a lacquered table stood next to an ornate fireplace. A small fire smouldered in the grate. There was a Go board waiting on the table. Kaibe took his seat on one side of the board. “Will you join me in a game before supper, Hamesu-sama?”

“Hai, Kaibe-sama - if you will let us talk as weplay.”

Kaibe swept the black Go stones over to his sideof the table. “It is untraditional I know, but I believe I shall play black,” said Kaibe.

“This is not my board, Kaibe-sama.”

“What man owns a battlefield, Hamesu-sama? There are only sides, allies and enemies. Know who your allies and enemies are, and the battle will determine which should be considered the white stones.”

Hamesu propped his swords against the chair and sat down. He lifted a white stone and placed it on the board. “Is it not odd, Kaibe-sama, how many stories involve games such as this, where playing the game counts for so much more than winning or losing, and apparently innocent comments contain deeper meaning?”

Kaibe laid a black stone on the board, capturing one of Hamesu’s. “You are wary, Hamesu-sama, but this is no epic story of heroes.”

Another stone clinked against the polished surface of the board. “A Kitsuki is always wary. We watch everyone and everything. Togashi was charged to hold vigil overthe Empire. Can we do less?”

Kaibe placed another black stone on the board. Behind Hamesu, Irozu leaned against a screen.

“You do credit to your school and family. Your investigations have been noted. So tell me, what are you seeking in the realm of the Scorpion?”

Hamesu held a stone between the board and the fire for a moment, casting a shadow over theboard. “Shadows. Ninja. Darkness.”

The black stone that Kaibe placed on the board swallowed the firelight. “Peasant myths, Hamesu-sama.” Hamesu considered the board for a moment, then placed another stone, capturing another of Kaibe’s.

“Not entirely. The truth is like a pearl. It is a small piece of grit around which beautiful falsehoods accrete. There is a core of truth to these tales of shadowed assassins – this I know to be true. The Naga fear a darkness which is somehow associated with the ninja myth.” Kaibe placed a black stone on the board.

“As I said – your investigations have been noticed. The shadow – what you call the ninja – exists. This fortress was once a stronghold consumed by it. There are caverns far below us where the darkness pools and gathers, shadows stronger than steel.”

Hamesu pressed the attack. “And the Naga fear it.”

Kaibe smiled as he placed the black stone. “They are its ancient and most deadly foes. The ninja are infiltrators, tricksters, shapeshifters, yes? Naga are one mind, one soul.”

Hamesu’s white stones now outnumbered the black by a considerable margin. “They cannot be infiltrated. They can sense…the Foul, as they call it.”

Kaibe nodded.“You are wise, Hamesu-sama. My family – called Goju by another of your family, one Kitsuki Kaagi – has been serving and studying the Shadow since it came to the Empire, a thousand years ago.”

Hamesu drew back slightly after placing another stone. “You are not a Scorpion, then, Kaibe-sama? Whyhave you brought me here?”

Kaibe’s smile broadened, but seemed somehow artificial, like the painted face of a geisha. “Your skills and knowledge has been appreciated, Kitsuki. The wisdom and insight of the Kami, the favoured children of the hateful one, yes, they have been passed to your Clan…but you do not see clearly enough. For when dealing with ninja, Hamesu, you cannot trust the evidence of your own eyes.”

Kaibe reached out and pressed his fingers down on five of the white stones. They cracked, the thin white covering breaking and falling away to reveal black. Hamesu’s white stones were lost in a sea of black stones. A looming shadow fell over the boardfrom behind Hamesu.

He grasped the hilt of his katana, stood and drew and spun and cut in one motion. The razor-sharp blade sliced through the chest of Mirumoto Irozu, who had crept up behind Hamesu. As Irozu’s bloodless body fell to the floor, his face melted away, leaving a face as featureless as a Go stone. Hamesu completed his spin with the edge of his katana against Goju Kaibe’s neck.

Kaibe froze. Acutely conscious of the blade at his throat, he said carefully, “How did you know itwas not Irozu?”

“You kidnapped him from his room at the Inn, and rode back here on our horses – I heard them being taken from the Inn, and my suspicions were confirmed by the marks at the ford. Your ninja had his face, but not his manner or soul. He is less trusting, more careful. He complains more. The Kitsuki look very closely, always. And…and a monk prophesied something about it, once. “Now, where is Irozu-san?”

Kaibe was unmoved. “Are you so sure he is here?”

Hamesu drew the point of the katana up along Kaibe ’s cheek, and cut through the bindings of the mask. Kaibe’s face melted away, leaving an eggshell-smooth void. Hamesu centred the blade over Kaibe’s neck. Without looking, he took a lighting branch from the fire and handed it to Kaibe, then took one for himself.

“You do not have faces, but you still die when I cut your head off. You brought me here for a reason, and Irozu too. Bring me to him.”

“The last time a light was brought into these caverns, Hamesu, you had not been born.”

Goju Kaibe led Hamesu down the steps, which had been carved out of the living rock. Hamesu noted with some discomfort that although this stairway was the only way in or out, it seemed to have been carved from the bottom up. The steps were uneven, and treacherous. Hamesu moved slowly, never letting the blade waver from its place. Kaibe’s spoke again, his voice seeming to emanate from thecentre of his form.

“What will you do, Hamesu-sama, if a thousand shadows are waiting for us on the last step?”

“Push you in front of me and run as if He Who Is Not To Be Named were on my heels, perhaps…but I am not afraid. Partly because your masters want something from me…and partly because it is too late for fear. Now there is only action.”

The stairs led into a cavern. Hamesu did not let his attention slip from Kaibe, but the cavern seemed to go on forever, arched ribs of stone and towers of twisted rock, a vast cathedral of eternal darkness. The torch in Kaibe’s hand made a tiny island of light in a vast ocean of oblivion. Outside the circle of torchlight, the stone and shadow blurred into each other, lost their identity. Outside the circle was nothingness.

“Where is Irozu?” asked Hamesu. The sounds were lost within the cavern, the echoes became wordless whispers. Kaibe led him along the smooth rocks of the cavern floor. The cavern sloped down, and the roof arched higher, out of sight. Hamesu stumbled through the half-light. The air in the cavern was dry and icy-cold, but wisps of dark mist swirled in the shadows. Hamesu shivered, feeling the mists coiling in his lungs. Something brushed against his mind. He focussed his chi, projecting into the darkness. Three figures coalesced out of the darkness. The foremost was a woman, dressed in rags that must once have been courtly robes. Thin black hair hung from her faceless head. Something in her demeanour conveyed immense weariness and sorrow. Another was a broken mockery of the human form, its mismatched arms hung ape-like from hunched shoulders, and its face was a jumble of crude features. The third was another woman, dressed in heavy black armour. Her mempo was perfectly smooth and reflective. Hate emanated from all three. Behind them, Hamesu could glimpse the torchlight glimmering off something liquid, like the black waters of an underground lake.

Kaibe’s eyeless face glanced back at Hamesu. “The guardians will not harm you, but we cannot pass this way.”

“Just bring me to Irozu, ninja.”

They left the strange trio by the silent pool, and walked on in the cavern. Hamesu strained his ears for sounds of pursuit, but could hear nothing but the soft lapping of water, and the eerie whispers of the cavern. Water was dripping somewhere. He wondered if they were now under the lake he had seen by the castle – or if this cavern even existed in Rokugan. Perhaps he had descended into some shadow-realm, some dark outpost of Jigoku. The Goju stopped by a deep hole in the cavern floor. A shape was huddled at the bottom of the pit. When the light of the torch touched him, helooked up blearily.

“Irozu?”

“Hamesu…you are here too. A…shadow…attacked me in the Inn. There are evil things in this cavern.”

“I know, Irozu. We are -”

One of the three figures from the lakeside, the woman dressed in courtly rags, stepped into thetorchlight. “Kitsukihamesu…” she breathed, her voice emanating from all around, the words repeated in whispers and echoes until they lost all definition and meaning. Hamesu kept his sword poised at Kaibe’s neck.“Stay back, shadow.”

“You sought us out. You seek what can be given to you. Revenge.”

The blade wavered slightly.The shadow spoke again. “The…Naga…can be injured. Killed. You can be given a weapon.”

Irozu grabbed onto the rough walls of his prison and pulled himself upright. “Do not listen to their lies, Hamesu!”

The featureless face of the ninja woman swivelled to stare sightlessly at Irozu. “There is no need to lie in this.” Her head turned back to Hamesu. “You will be given a weapon. You may have your revenge. Leave this one here…as a hostage. You have the assurances of…the darkness.”

Hamesu smiled. “The Unicorn call you the lying darkness, I hear.”

“It is sworn…by Onnotangu. You can have your vengeance upon them.”

Irozu shouted again. “Hamesu! Do not do this!”

Hamesu looked his friend in the eye.

“I must do this, Irozu. The dead of the Dragon call for revenge. The Shadow is the power the Naga fear.” He threw his burning torch down to Irozu.

“I am sorry, Irozu. Be brave.”

The ninja woman faded back into the shadows. Kaibe began walking off towards the stairway to the castle. Hamesu lingered on the edge of the pit for a moment, looking at Irozu. Then he closed his eyes for three breathes, opened them and stumbled after Goju Kaibe.

“I swear I will see you dead, Kitsuki Hamesu!”shouted Irozu.

The shadows swallowed his words.

The light from Irozu’s torch kept the darkness at bay for a little while.