Traitor's Hope Page 3

  She sat in front of the tea and poured herself a cup.

  What could she do to help Mishi-san? She had to do something, and soon. Mishi would be horrified enough by what she had done to try something drastic, and Taka didn't want to wait to find out what it would be.

  She stood up and left the room, determined to find Mitsu and see if he could help her protect her friend. Her tea sat forgotten on the small wooden table.

  After placing the warmed sake on the table, Kusuko retreated to a corner of the small, dimly lit room that reeked of spilled sake, old squid, and burning oil. Once there, she kept her head bowed low and awaited further requests.

  She hadn't expected Mamushi-san to be meeting with anyone tonight, but now she was even more certain she'd made the right choice when she'd put on her brown serving kimono, left her hair in a simple tie at the base of her neck, and removed all of her makeup before making her way across the city to where she suspected her father to be. When she hadn't found him in his chambers in the Security Compound that abutted the New Council Compound, she had decided to try one of his many meeting places on the outskirts of the city. In these clothes, without any of her usual adornments and her hair loose enough to at least partially cover her face when she angled her head demurely, no one noticed her. She was simply another scrawny serving girl, and no one of rank would pay her any heed at all.

  She had learned that lesson well enough when her father had sent her to live with the compound's cleaners for a cycle during her training. Despite many cycles of hearing her beauty acclaimed by most of the people who knew her father, all of whom were used to seeing her presented in the fine kimono he provided for her, on her very first day working with the palace cleaners one of the scribes who had flattered her with compliments only a tenday prior had almost tripped on her as she scrubbed the floor, and then called her an ugly, clumsy beast before continuing on his way.

  If she needed any further proof, the man who sat across from her father, who she clearly recognized as the former First Rōjū despite his attempts to disguise himself as a merchant, paid her no attention at all, and indeed spoke as though he and Mamushi-san were the only two people present.

  “The New Council is weak. The people deserve a governing body that can protect them better,” the First Rōjū said, from across the low table before which he and Mamushi-san both sat in seiza.

  Mamushi-san filled the First Rōjū's sake cup. When the First Rōjū made no move to return the favor for Mamushi-san, Kusuko bowed and shifted forward to fill it for him and then silently resumed her place.

  “They may be weak,” Mamushi-san replied, once he had taken a sip of his own sake. “But many people love them for their policy allowing even the lowliest farmer to come forward and speak at their council meetings.”

  “The people are foolish, and can be easily swayed. They won't love the New Council if the New Council fails to defend them.”

  “Ah, and the people are in need of more protection these days aren't they?”

  “I hear it can be very dangerous in the mountains, and there are those violent rebels to the north of the city...” The First Rōjū's voice trailed off, and he sipped his sake.

  “I believe, however,” he continued, “that there is more that can be done.”

  “Oh?” asked Mamushi-san, never willing to give away more information than he had to.

  “The New Council has allies,” the First Rōjū continued. “Allies that could help turn the tide in protecting the people from these new threats.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you? These allies, abominations though they are, could be just as useful to us as they are to the New Council. Before they are neutralized, they should be...offered a chance to change allegiances.”

  “Strong allies are unlikely to change sides so easily,” Mamushi-san mused, taking another sip of warm sake.

  “I believe it is part of your skill set to discover people's motivations and exploit them, is it not?”

  Mamushi-san only smiled.

  “I will see what can be done,” he replied at length, pouring sake for the First Rōjū once more.

  “Excellent,” said the other man, draining his cup and then rising from his place on the tatami floor. Just before he reached the door, he turned and pulled a small, but heavy looking, bag from his waist belt. “I almost forgot. It disgusts me to have to deal in the stuff personally, but I suppose it can't be helped if I must pretend to be a merchant.”

  He dropped the bag by the door. It jingled weightily, and then he slid the door open and left.

  Kusuko kept her head bowed until Mamushi-san addressed her.

  “Welcome, Kusuko-san,” he said, cueing her to raise her head. “That was well done. I only recognized you after the First Rōjū had left.”

  She kept her face carefully blank, though she secretly rejoiced at the rare praise. She inclined her head slightly to acknowledge the remark.

  “And what do you make of our recent guest?” Mamushi-san asked.

  Kusuko again was careful not to show her emotions, but she was both surprised and delighted to be asked her opinion on the matter. Her father generally kept no one's council but his own.

  “I find it interesting that he considers the New Council's allies worth manipulating.”

  “Do you not think they are powerful enough to be worth the effort?” Mamushi-san asked.

  Kusuko considered carefully before answering.

  “I think that they are indeed as powerful as the First Rōjū suspects, or even more so. What interests me is that he is willing to admit their power, and their potential usefulness to his own cause, and yet call them abominations in the same breath.”

  Mamushi-san smiled.

  “Many of the Rōjū have shown an amazing capacity for hypocrisy, I find.”

  Kusuko had to make a great effort to prevent the shock from showing on her face. Her father was never this candid with her. Had he grown to trust her more in the moons since the battle at Rōjū City? Or was this another of his tests? Suddenly wary, she was careful of her reply.

  “The illusion of power can make men blind to many things.” She felt confident that the phrase her father had taught her as a small child would serve her well in this moment.

  “Very true, Kusuko-san. Of course, the First Rōjū has been under the illusion of power for a very long time. What do you think will come of his plan?”

  Kusuko decided this must be a test.

  “Who am I to say? I have only a small portion of the knowledge needed to judge such things.”

  “Mm... Indeed. It is possible though, that the First Rōjū has even less knowledge of this topic than you do, as you are the person who has been placed closest to the New Council's allies.”

  “Yet I have no knowledge of the First Rōjū's situation, or that of his closest allies,” she replied.

  “None?” Mamushi-san asked.

  Kusuko left her face blank, and said nothing. Her father had taught her long ago the value of never letting anyone know the full extent of her own information.

  Mamushi-san smiled yet again, and if Kusuko hadn't known the man her whole life she might have thought the sake was going to his head. He was never this voluble.

  “Do you think the New Council will be as easily toppled as the First Rōjū believes?” She decided to hazard a question of her own, while Mamushi-san seemed to be in a talking mood.

  Mamushi-san took another slow sip of his sake, and quirked an eyebrow at her.

  “Any government is as easily undone as its most influential members,” he replied.

  It was another lesson from her childhood, but that didn't make it any less true.

  “And do you think Tsuku-san is so easily undone?”

  Mamushi-san stared at her for a moment.

  “I do not yet know what would undo Tsuku-san, or any of the other high-ranking members of the New Council,” he replied. “But I'm fortunate to have an informant among them who will tell me as soon as she discovers
it.”

  Kusuko-san bowed then, and decided it was past time for her to take her leave. She felt certain this was a test of some kind, but she didn't understand the rules. Failing Mamushi-san's tests could be fatal. She decided to go before she said the wrong thing, and alluding to her current assignment was often as close as her father ever came to giving her a direct dismissal.

  “I will send you my reports as I can,” she said.

  “Inari-san will collect them for me,” he replied, just as she reached the door.

  She managed not to stutter step before she passed the threshold, but only barely. She had been half convinced that her father was finally beginning to trust her, given the amount of information he had just shared with her, but if that was true, why was he sending his other most trusted hishi to check up on her?

  Mishi sat in front of the tree and watched the fog swirl around the mountain top. She wondered if she was inside of a cloud. Yet the moonlight shone brightly on the rocky outcropping before her, and a glint of silver and gold caught the corner of her eye.

  “What troubles you, child?”

  The voice that sounded like earth moving and distant thunder made her sigh in relief. It had been too many moons since she'd heard that voice. The giant head, scaled in silver and gold with eyes almost the size of Mishi herself, appeared before her, and, suddenly, she couldn't find the words for all that troubled her. Her voice caught in her throat as tears sprang to her eyes. Eventually she managed to stutter out, “I'm a monster, Tatsu-sama.”

  “Hmmm... I'm inclined to agree with you, after you've gone so long without even coming to say hello.”

  “What?”

  The statement was so absurd that she almost laughed despite the tears that still choked her.

  “Have you been avoiding me?”

  “Avoiding you? Tatsu-sensei, I've been traveling! I told you I would be gone for moons.”

  “Yet here you are.”

  Mishi thought about that for a moment.

  “Isn't this a dream?” she asked.

  “Hmph...” Tatsu snorted, and a bit of smoke flared from his nostrils. “Does that make it any less real?”

  “Doesn't it?”

  “Child, did you have a question for me, or didn't you?”

  Mishi considered that for a moment. She wanted to know if this was real. She desperately wished to be visiting Tatsu-sama right now. She had thought that the only way to reach him was to be physically present on the top of his mountain. Surely, he would have told her if that wasn't the case...wouldn't he? She shook her head. Real or imagined, she had a rare opportunity to talk to her mentor. She shouldn't waste it.

  “I want to know what's wrong with me.”

  “Hmm...what makes you think something is wrong with you?”

  “I have visions...nightmares in the day time...I'm a danger. I keep hurting people. I injured Taka-san and Mitsu-san on the way to Rōjū City. What if I had done worse? I could never forgive myself.”

  “Ahhh...interesting choice of words.”

  “What?”

  “You would never forgive yourself if anything happened to Taka-san, ne?”

  Mishi shook her head.

  “Never.”

  “And will you ever forgive yourself for protecting her at the battle of Rōjū City?”

  “What?”

  “Mishi-san, you would do anything to protect the people you love, and indeed you have. You have killed to protect the people you love. Now, will you forgive yourself for doing so?”

  Mishi thought about that.

  “I don't know how,” she said at length.

  Tatsu nodded, his usually mischievous eyes solemn.

  “The how is often a great challenge,” he said. “Yet first you must accept the why.”

  “And why should I forgive myself? I don't deserve it. I attacked my best friend and a man who has done nothing but try to help me.”

  “And did you intend to attack them?”

  “Of course not! I was consumed with a vision. I couldn't tell dream from reality, and when they touched me...I thought I was being attacked by Eihei.”

  “So, it was an accident.”

  “Yes, but Sensei, the people I've killed, I meant to kill. I've done great evil. And my dreams...in my dreams...” She couldn't bear to form the words to tell Tatsu-sama the truth of her dreams. “I'm a monster,” she repeated instead.

  “A monster, child?”

  Mishi locked eyes with Tatsu then, and she let him see everything within her.

  Tatsu's eyes grew heavy with sorrow then, and Mishi thought that he must have seen the truth and was now mourning the person she once had been.

  “Look at me, child.”

  She did.

  Tatsu opened his jaws, then turned to the mountain top, away from Mishi, and released a giant gout of flame that could have destroyed an entire city if it had been aimed at one. Trees and grass turned to ash, rock turned to molten lava, the mountain top was seared clean in the wake of that flame.

  He turned back to her.

  “I am capable of great violence,” he told her. “I have killed, child. Many times in my long life it has been my duty to do so, to protect that which I hold dear. Am I a monster?”

  Mishi shook her head.

  “Don't be ridiculous, Tatsu-sama. You would only kill if you had to, and—”

  “So quick to forgive me my evils, child, and yet so reluctant to forgive your own.”

  “But Sensei, that’s—”

  Mishi's eyes opened and she looked at the ceiling in the guest room she'd been provided in the Zōkame's wing of the New Council compound. A soft breeze blew in through the window that opened onto the small balcony of her room and she wondered if she'd left it open. She didn't remember leaving it open.

  She wanted to spend time thinking about her dream with Tatsu-sama. Had it been real? That is to say, it had clearly been a dream, but had Tatsu been there, too? He was a dragon kami, after all. What was to stop him from showing up in people's dreams if he felt like it? Then again, she had never dreamt of him before now, so if it were possible for him to visit her dreams, why had he never done so before? Or was it that she hadn't visited him?

  She put those questions aside for the time being, and got up to check her belongings. She needed to be ready to leave as soon as she'd met with Tsuku-san in the morning. She had finally decided that leaving in the night had the potential to attract too much attention from the guards, and she was desperate to avoid having to hurt anyone else. If she left in the middle of the morning, it was likely no one would be the wiser until the evening meal. In addition, she would have time to explain to Tsuku-san why she couldn't accept the assignment that she'd been given.

  She approached her laidout saddle bags and took in the shapes of her belongings as they lay in the moonlight. All her things were laid out almost exactly where she had left them....

  Now she was left pondering a new question: why had someone been in her room?

  18th Day, 2nd Moon, Cycle 1 of the New Council

  MISHI SAT ACROSS from Tsuku-san and tried not to fiddle with the sleeves of her uwagi. Tsuku-san, as always, was impeccably dressed in a sedately ornate kimono, with her long grey hair pulled into a simple coil at her neck. Mishi was dressed in her travel-worn brown and green uwagi and hakama, and she felt as though the older woman’s deep brown eyes were scrutinizing every faded thread of fabric, even though she knew that Tsuku-san was far more likely assessing her physical and mental state.

  In an attempt to stop fidgeting, Mishi looked around the small tea room that sat in the middle of the central garden of the New Council compound. From where she sat, she could see the small koi pond just beyond the tea house’s small porch, as well as some of the shaped, decorative trees that adorned the garden. Warmed by the small brazier that Tsuku-san was using to prepare the tea, it was a calm and peaceful place. Or it would have been, if Mishi hadn't felt so anxious about her planned departure and the reasons behind it.

 
; Mishi looked back to Tsuku-san just in time to receive the small cup of macha that the older woman had finished preparing, and she nodded in thanks as she received the chawan with both hands.

  After they had both taken a small sip of tea and had a moment to savor it, Tsuku-san spoke.

  “Why did you ask to see me, Mishi-san?”

  Mishi was tempted to ask why she was “Mishi-san” again here in the teahouse, when she had been Ryūko-san in the official receiving room yesterday, but decided it wasn’t worth the time. She had more important things to discuss.

  “I cannot complete the task you’ve assigned me,” she said quietly. Hearing the words spoken aloud, even coming from her own mouth, turned her stomach, but what else was she to do?

  “Oh? And why is that?”

  Mishi took a deep breath.

  “I cannot fight anymore, Tsuku-sama. I am…broken.” She didn’t want to admit to being a monster, not to Tsuku-san, not if she didn’t have to. “I cannot hold a katana or wakizashi without posing a threat to all the people around me. I cannot be trusted to protect the children you would send me to find, and I refuse to be a threat to them. There are enough people who wish to hurt them as it is.”

  A long exhale followed that statement. She’d practiced it many times that morning. She hoped she’d remembered everything. She needed Tsuku-san to understand.

  Tsuku-san took a few more contemplative sips of tea before speaking again, but Mishi could read nothing in her face.

  “Every Kisōshi poses a threat to the people around them when they wear their katana and wakizashi…and even when they don’t. What is different about you? No, don’t answer yet.”

  Mishi had indeed been about to object, but she swallowed the reply and let Tsuku-san continue.

  “Every Kisōshi is a danger to those around them. All trained warriors are, but especially Kisōshi. That is why Kisōshi are required to complete cycles of training before they are allowed to wander freely in society.”

  Mishi’s eyebrows rose and her grey eyes widened as that statement sank in. She had never thought of it that way. She had always thought that Kisōshi were “allowed” to train for cycles to become better fighters, to learn to use their kisō. She knew it was required, but she had always thought of it as a privilege, not an obligation. For the first time, she thought of it from the perspective of someone who did not have kisō. Would those people want men and women with kisō to simply do as they pleased in society, without receiving cycles of strict training and discipline? Probably not. After all, a person without kisō could train all they liked, but they would never have the advantage of an element to aid them in their fight. They would never stand a chance against someone who had that kind of power, not without huge numbers on their side.