Like leaves in a swift river, two boats surged with the wind at the edge of the storm. Deep within the black clouds, the Thunder Dragon rumbled. Sails streched like ribbed wings, salt slicing through the air. The captain held the tiller calmly, gazing bow-ward from the storm with his one good eye. The spray ran in rivulets down his face. One hand, tanned like salt leather, scraped the water from his eye. His face was expressionless.
The captain of the other ship grasped his tiller tight as it twisted like a thing alive, cutting the line of the storm to drive his small ship ever faster. A grin spread across his face -- ahead, a break in the clouds. Light shone down upon the islands, glittering like diamonds in the hand on Amaterasu. A whoop of sheer exhileration was lost in the wind, but it was loud enough to catch the ears of the sailors on deck. Most simply grinned - they had sailed with Takuni before, and were used to his odd ways.
Takuni's eyes stared through the biting rain, his gaze never slipping from the islands. Soon, the comfort of port, the warmth of the tea-house, the pleasure of sake, and perhaps the security of understanding. The Yasuki "trader" below seemed to consider this voyage particularly urgent. He had carried only a travelling pack with him, and carried himself with some secrecy, in comparison with the other traders who visited these ports.
As if that thought had summoned a soul from the blackest shadowlands, the trader chose that moment to step out onto the deck, cowled against the storm. The cloaked figure glanced toward the islands at the storm's eye, then turned and retreated once more.
Takuni spared a glance for the other captain, still standing like hewn granite at the other ship's till. He grinned and pointed, but Hyobe either did not notice, or did not care.
Laughter and breaking china. Steam poured out of the open door and
into the night. Inside the sake house, Takuni's sailors were
apologising to an older samurai, whose tea ceremony they had
"accidentally" interrupted. Torn paper and splintered wood showed where
one wall had been.
The samurai sighed, then smiled. He was about to speak when -
"Toshokan'in-san!"
"Ah, Takuni-san!" He chuckled. "These men are in your tender care, is it?"
"Iie. I simply met then aboard someone's boat." A pause. The room
erupted into laughter, a sound rarely heard outside, but welcome and at
home in a tea-house. The sound settled into the water-soaked tatami.
"Iie. That was, however, less than a week ago. I was hoping that
you would arrive in time to transport some of our fastest scouts to the
mainland. I would go myself, only that i fear our shugenja could never
find their scrolls without help." A broad grin split the old samurai's
face.
"Hai. I fear that you may be correct. Were you to prove your
honour, there would be none to write of your attempt, historian." The
pair grinned like mischievous boys. "Aah, the sake takes the salt from
the bones."
"Also, Takuni, if it is not more trouble, I would ask word of the
Broterhood, what transpires in the Dragon lands. The map-table in the
library is incomplete. I hear... disturbing rumours from the Yasuki
merchants, but when information is free....
"They say that the Lion has followed Junzo's road, and attack the
Crab. They say that the Dragon slaughter their own ranks, while the
Naga tear down the mountains. They say that our Daimyo was crushed by a
Crane army.... Obvious lies, but lies which may disguise the truth.
"I do not wish, Takuni-sama, to be forced to trust a Yasuki
merchant."
Beyond the four paper walls of the room, the laughter of sailors
fought against a lurking storm.
"And so there has been no word of the Daimyo's army since the Crane
betrayal?" Most of Takuni's cup of sake slopped onto the floor.