Was it possible? Had Toyotomi Sena aligned herself with a demon of the sea? If she had, then where was she? Why had she not come to ōkami? Why had she not saved his father? Where had she been when they most needed her?
Anger surged through his veins. It washed his sight crimson. In the colors of fire. His father had always said ōkami was like fire. When he threw the beautiful scale against the wall, it slid to the ground, unbroken. Unscathed.
What was the point in having power if you did not use it to save those you loved?
Fight not for greatness, but for goodness.
ōkami picked up the fragile piece of washi. Reread his father’s words to him. A drop of moisture landed beside the script. Then another. His tears flowed freely as ōkami sat back, staring at the contents of this small wooden box. Things of great value to no one. Things of inestimable value to him. It was the work of a moment. A choice made, and a door pushed open.
It was not up to his mother to save him. Just as it was not up to his father to give him answers. That was not the way of life. Only ōkami could do what needed to be done. It was time for him to forgive his past. Not forget it. Only a fool would forget such things. But if he could not let go of the demons in his past, how could he ever hope to embrace his greatest fear?
Who he was. Who he’d always been. Who he was meant to be.
In his hands, Takeda Ranmaru held the totality of a life. Of two lives. The beginning and the end of a story. The tale of Sena and Shingen.
But it would not be the end of his parents. Of their family. They’d given their son the gift of great power. Not the kind of power granted by a demon. The kind of power that people laid down their lives to protect.
The power of hope.
The Way of the Warrior
Raiden was torn from his sleep by shouts outside his chamber doors. He wrenched open the papered screens, his blades in his hands.
A servant stared at the ground, his head weighted with sorrow. “Apologies for the hour, my lord. The emperor requests your presence.”
“Has he been injured?” Raiden looped his katana and wakizashi through the cord at his waist.
Fear passing across his features, the servant shook his head. “Please proceed with all haste to the Lotus Pavilion, my lord.”
Behind him, Raiden heard Mariko stir. He turned toward her and wordlessly directed her to remain in the room. Then he stepped into the corridors, ordering the guards to stay posted outside. As he walked toward the wing of Heian Castle that housed the dowager empress’s chambers, the sounds of quiet sobbing grew louder. Ladies of the court sat huddled together in corners, their faces stained with tears, and their hands shaking in anguish.
Raiden halted in his tracks when he saw his younger brother pacing before the entrance of the dowager empress’s bedchamber. The sliding doors had been left wide-open.
It took Raiden only a moment to understand the sight within.
Roku’s mother was sprawled across her bedcovers, as though she’d risen from sleep in a panic and collapsed the moment she’d called for help. Her eyes bulged from her skull, the veins around them bloated and purple. White foam ringed her lips.
She’d died in agony. Undoubtedly poisoned.
Dread rising in his veins, Raiden looked at his younger brother. “My sovereign—”
“It’s not enough for them to die,” Roku began softly, his pacing increasing in intensity with each word he spoke. “I don’t simply want to see them writhe in anguish.”
Unease bade Raiden to keep silent.
The emperor continued his hushed rant, his brow lined with hatred. “They will watch their mothers, their grandmothers, their daughters perish first. I will set fire to their homes. Any man, woman, or child in service to them shall burn in the flames.” Though Roku spoke of atrocities, his voice did not shake. It did not sound the least bit agitated.
Thus far, the only signs Raiden could see of his brother’s fraying emotions were the pacing. The wide-eyed stare. “My sovereign,” he started, “perhaps we—”
“Do not say a word to me!” Roku screamed. “Not a single word!” It ripped from his mouth, echoing into the rafters. The sound startled the ladies of the court, many of whom only cried louder.
“That’s enough.” Roku turned his rage on them. “Not a single one of you were here to save my mother. I should tear out your throats for it.” He grabbed an ornamental vase from its stand and hurled it at the nearest group of terrified young women. A trio of girls who’d long ruled their roost of courtiers. The painted vase shattered in pieces at their feet. “You disgust me,” he shouted. “Every last one of you deserves to die! Blood-sucking whores. You come to my city in the guise of guests. Eat my food at your leisure. Sleep safely in my castle. And when you are most needed, all you can do is put on a performance?” Roku’s chest heaved as he took a breath. “Get out of my sight!”
The girls bit their tongues, refusing to cry out, their figures huddled against each other. The one nearest to Raiden looked to him for guidance. For mercy.
His features stern, Raiden stepped forward. “Leave this place. All of you. If you value your lives, be gone from this castle at once. Say one word to anyone, and I will have you banished from the city.” He towered over them. Though he meant to impart cruelty into his words, his eyes beseeched them to obey without question. To stay safe.
The young women bowed, then fled without a sound.
Raiden turned back to Roku, who glared at nothing, his face twisted in a scowl. “Brother,” he entreated again. “Please accept—”
“Where were you tonight?” Roku said, his voice soft once more.
Raiden blinked. Kept silent.
Roku continued. “Were you with your whore?”
Raiden did not move, nor did he change his expression. He remained quiet and still.
“Was your whore with you the whole night?” Roku asked in a perilous whisper. “Or did you help her kill my mother?”
Raiden inhaled through his nose. His brother—his emperor—had just accused him of treachery. There was nothing more to be done or said. His hand twitched of its own volition, as though it ached to grasp a sword.
“Answer me!” Roku demanded.
“My wife and I were in our chambers asleep, my sovereign. There were guards posted outside all night.”
“Then who killed my mother?”
Raiden inhaled once more. Then he fell to his knees, his body bowed. In a single smooth motion, he removed the swords from his hip and placed them on the floor before him. His eyes locked on the polished wood floor, Raiden spoke. “My sovereign, my loyalty is to you, until my death. If you believe I have betrayed you in any way—failed you in any way—you have but to ask for my life, and I will gladly give it.”
They were the words of a samurai to his sovereign. Ever since Raiden could remember, he’d believed in them. Believed in what they stood for. The honor they imparted. This night, these words rang hollow. Raiden kept his gaze averted. He did not know what his brother might do or say. But Raiden’s honor bound him to his creed. It was the way of the warrior. The only way Raiden knew.
Finally Roku spoke. “Stand, brother.”
Raiden looked up. Rose to his feet.
Still his brother’s features were inscrutable. That was what frightened Raiden most of all. That he no longer knew what his brother thought.
“I appreciate your loyalty,” Roku said. “Find Takeda Ranmaru and the Black Clan. Bring them to me, alive. If you fail, I will accept your offer. After that, I will make sure your wife is placed on your funeral pyre to burn alongside you.”
A murder of crows burst from the ramparts of Heian Castle as though they were fleeing a stampede. They squawked and swooped down into the city as word of the dowager empress’s death flew through the streets of Inako. Whispers of treason trailed in their wake. Of insurrection and unrest.