Michi, Hana and Yoshi knelt to the Daimyo’s left, Akihito, Misaki and Yukiko opposite. Piotr stood by a window, blowing smoke rings. The table was laden with more food than Akihito had seen in years and yet nobody was eating, save Hana and, perhaps not so surprisingly, Yukiko, quietly demolishing a plateful as if it were her last meal.
The pale glow from Hana’s eye refracted in the crystalware, and Akihito stared at her scar, the leather patch hiding her hurt. A life spent not knowing where her next meal was coming from had taught her to never waste a free feed, and she was busy scoffing a bowl of deep tuna. He found himself studying the lines of her cheek. The shape of her lips.
The girl caught Akihito staring, offered a shy smile around her mouthful. The big man turned away quickly, focused on the Iron Samurai’s report to his Daimyo.
“The gaijin army numbers ten thousand, great Lord.” General Ginjiro’s expression was grim. “They caught the Dragons completely unaware. Before we lost communications from our scouts, Kawa city was ablaze. We have two separate reports stating your cousin Daimyo Haruka was killed in the defense of Ryu-jō, along with his son and most of his Elite.”
“The fortress of Dragons is fallen.” Isamu sighed. “After two centuries unchallenged.”
“So say our reports, great Lord.”
“And what of you, Misaki-san?” The Daimyo turned to the leader of the Guild rebels. “What do your brethren in Kawa tell you?”
Misaki was still clad in her membrane, spider limbs folded on her back. Her eyes were so heavily lidded Akihito had thought her half-asleep until she’d fixed him with a stare that might cut granite.
“First House is jamming our communications capability.” The Guildswoman gestured to the silent mechabacus on her chest. “Our Artificers are trying to rig a shortwave transmission tower, but until then, we will hear no news from our Kawa brethren.”
General Ginjiro turned to his lord. “We have received official missive from our self-styled Shōgun. Lord Hiro demands we ally with the Tiger Clan against these invaders.”
“Send an appropriate response on the good stationery.” Isamu stroked his moustache, brow creased in thought. “Something along the lines of ‘the venerable Lord of Foxes declines your request with all due respect. May you choke on the thousand throbbing members of your Guild masters, you sniveling little shit. Yours sincerely, etcetera etcetera…’”
Hana protested through her mouthful of tuna. “Bdd vat’s su’cide.”
Akihito smiled at the girl’s lack of courtly manners, tried to share it with her brother. But Yoshi was stabbing at his meal like he hated it, black clouds over his head.
“Suicidal it may be, but the Fox clan will not kneel to this puppet Shōgun,” Ginjiro said.
Akihito was astonished as Yoshi spoke for the first time in hours, muttering and shaking his head.
“Samurai,” he said. “So godsdamned predictable.”
General Ginjiro blinked at the boy, surprise quickly turning to anger. “Tora Hiro is a usurper. He has no claim to the Golden Throne. Honor demands we—”
“Remind me again about the difference between honor and stupidity?”
“Yoshi…” Hana warned.
“They have a fortress here.” Yoshi motioned about them. “An army of Foxes inside it. Another army of Tigers and Phoenix to the south. If everyone stopped for one minute and pulled their honorable heads out of their honorable asses—”
Ginjiro’s voice rose. “It would be shameful to ally with a Guild lackey who has insulted our Lord and is poised to invade our homeland.”
“Idiots,” Yoshi muttered. “Little boys playing soldiers…”
Ginjiro slammed his hand on the table.
“I think everyone should take a breath,” Yukiko said. “Think about this rationally.”
“But that’s not an option, is it?” Yoshi said. “Not when honor and Bushido and all that bullshit is concerned. They’d rather die alone than stand together—”
Ginjiro laughed. “So we push the gaijin into the sea together and then what? You think the Guild will forgive us for sheltering their rebels? Or insulting their puppet Shōgun?”
Daimyo Isamu’s finger drummed on the iron-thrower at his waist. “Perhaps you suggest we withdraw our support and leave the Guild rebellion and you to rot, young man?”
“Of course not—”
“The Guild want your Kagé crushed, Yukiko dead, me kneeling at Hiro’s feet. The cards are dealt. We play the hand we are given, or bow out of the game. There is no third option.”
“So what’s the plan, then? Hole up here and see who arrives to slaughter us first?” Yoshi turned to Yukiko. “We should have stayed in the godsdamned mountains…”
“This is what we asked for, Yoshi,” Yukiko said. “Perhaps it’s fitting. We warred on the gaijin for twenty years. Killed their people. Stole their children. Maybe we deserve retribution.”
“Interesting that it comes now,” Isamu mused. “I fought in Morcheba for years, and the round-eyes were never this organized. They were a mob. Fierce as rabid wolves, but never an army. Where did this fleet come from?”