His eyes closed against the spray, Takuni could feel the storm-wind ruffling the roots of his hair. The fleet was making good time. It would not be long until they would arrive at Otosan Uchi, the Pearl of the Empire. They had seen few boats upon the water, these few days. Most of the small fishing boats were in port to avoid the coming storm, and the Crane's trading ships were afraid to leave their ports.
As it should be.
He himself knew little of his Lord's plans, but then he did not much care. The Daimyo wished the ships loaded down with armed men, and sailed full into the harbour of the Capital. Advisors, and magistrates bearing the Emperor's seal sailed with them. Below the deck, those of his crew not keeping them afloat, were likely playing fortunes and winds with the bushi.
Poor bushi. Takuni smiled. There was likely to be trouble in the Capital when the fleet arrived, Charter or no, Emperor's Seal or no. Yet from out here, one could easily imagine that there _was_ no Empire, only the Islands.
If all did not go well, he thought, those thoughts could be prophecy. It was as that trader had said, when last he was in port: "With the Phoenix no longer a Great Clan, every farmer and gossip-monger feels he can be a prophet." It was true. The Phoenix were now where his own Clan was but three years gone. Ignored.
That would not happen to the Mantis again. He was certain of it.
Takuni turned, and took up his small jade lantern. One last look about the wake-tossed deck, and he went below, to win the money of some bushi who did not know better..
"Ha!" the old man hollered like one half his age, "That will teach
you not to try to take advantage of an old man!" Mukashino-sama sat
upon the floor amongst sailors and fighting men. He reached for the
dice, to throw again. A small pile of zeni at his side was growing
steadily larger. "Ah! Takuni-san! Come to join your men?"
"Hai. The wind has picked up yet again. I have come to tell them that we need three more men above, to be sure that the rigging holds. It is as if Osano-Wo himself reaches down from the heavens, and pushes us with his hands. Kage, Sunoke, Yoshi, go." The sailor looked at his men, choosing three who had lost enough already, this evening. He stood aside to let them pass, then set his lantern down, and joined the circle around the small mat.
The dice almost sparkled in the dice cup like diamonds from the mountains. The old storyteller looked up at Takuni with affection. One of the bushi coughed. Mukashino smiled. "I am glad that you told me of this voyage, Takuni-san. Tell me, why do so many men journey with such haste?"
"I wish that I knew, Suzume-sama, and could tell you. I know only that the Daimyo of the minor clans commands that it be done.
"And so it is done."
The old man looked thoughtful, the lantern-light deepening the wrinkles of his face to deep chasms. "It is as though he expects that he will need an army, not to enter, but to prevent escape. Who does he seek to find, I wonder?"
The bushi coughed again. Mukashino glanced his way, apologised, and threw the dice once more. Groans were heard, save from one bushi, a vivid scar upon his cheek. That man had bet that Mukashino would win. Again.
Taking his winnings, save for a small donation to the game's continuance, Mukashino stepped into the wind and spray. Takuan followed close upon his heels. The storyteller stared out into the evening light, watching the shoreline slowly pass by. Crane lands, these. Once, the best tale-tellers came to the lands of the Crane, for the Crane rewarded poets and tellers of stories. Keepers of histories.
Now the Crane cared little for history, forgetting lessons learned only years ago. If the Yasuki's tale was true, there was more to fear at the Capital than war. Mukashino did not know the reasons for the Mantis fleet, but he could foresee its effect. The Crane, the Unicorn, the Lion all reacting to an attempt upon an empty throne. The Wasp magistrate aboard this boat insisted that this was no Coup, that the Mantis Daimyo had reasons, reasons supported by the Emperor's will.
Mukashino was unsure. All things pointed to the conclusion that the Yasuki had told the truth. Yet Mukashino knew that when tales are being told, the swiftest, surest answer is most often wrong. If the Yasuki told the truth. If the Mantis knew the same tale. Only then could Mukashino think that he knew Yoritomo's plan.
If.
He turned to the sailor. Takuni smiled uncertainly. The old man seemed suddenly weary. The sailor pointed at one of his crew. "That," he said, "is Kuro. Ask him to tell you the tale of his visit to the Kumo's web. It is a marvellous story, even if it is not true."
Mukashino smiled.
"Marvels are dangerous things. Perhaps that is why we so enjoy hearing of them, without being there." The storyteller walked across the deck to listen to a tale at evening, leaving Takuni to wonder what the old man knew.