“All of the clans you named are fiercely loyal to the emperor,” Haruki mused further.
Yorishige nodded as he cracked his knuckles. “For at least three generations, they’ve reaped the rewards of serving the Minamoto family.”
Ren cleared his throat, tugging on the sling still wrapped around his injured arm. “It would be too fitting to think they are finally getting their just rewards. Someone—or thing—is out to control them. What do you think the wielder of this evil magic means to accomplish by doing so?”
“Perhaps it intends to cut the supply lines and dismantle support for the new emperor,” Tsuneoki said with a wry grin.
Ren spat in the misted earth by his feet. “A fine idea. It’s a shame we had it first.”
“The facts would indicate otherwise,” Haruki said with a peaceful smile.
Yorishige laughed softly, and the sound reminded Tsuneoki so much of Yoshi that it cut through his chest.
Ren glared at the boy and the good-natured metalsmith. “These cursed demons are stealing our ideas, and you two have the nerve to be droll about it?” he grumbled as he stooped near the creek bed, sneering through a grimace of pain. “It must be Raiden’s witch mother.”
Tsuneoki frowned. “Perhaps.” Uncertainty lingered in his voice as he recalled the figure of the samurai that night within the walls of the Akechi fortress. The Hattori crest had been emblazoned on his armor. But—as he had for several days—Tsuneoki continued to hold that information close. At least until he learned more about it.
Any fool could wear a crest if it served his purpose.
“What could the witch want or hope to achieve by attacking these domains?” Haruki asked, ignoring Ren’s mockery. Though he appeared serene—as though his mind floated among the clouds—Haruki’s attention remained firmly rooted to the earth. As always, the metalsmith possessed an uncanny ability to notice anything and everything. Not just the things any man could see, but the things concealed from sight and buried deep. “Her own family holds the seat of power right now,” the metalsmith continued. “Why would she lay siege to those who are loyal to the Minamoto clan?”
“It’s not her family.” Yorishige cracked his knuckles once more.
His left eye twitching, Ren glanced sidelong at the boy. “Just her son.” His features gathered with distaste. “That witch probably wants what any mother in her situation would want—her son to be emperor, rather than the little ingrate currently sitting on the Chrysanthemum Throne.”
Haruki sighed. “She’s mad if she thinks the people of Wa will depose their rightful ruler and put a bastard in his stead.”
“Stranger things have happened.” Tsuneoki watched the flowing stream as it tripped around a nearby bend.
With another sigh, Haruki swiped the dripping water from his brow. “Since our plan to overtake strongholds loyal to the emperor has been enacted by others, what is the next course of action, my lord?”
“As you learned only a few days ago, I am not your lord, Haruki, nor did I ever wish to be,” Tsuneoki said. “There is no need between any of us for those kinds of formalities. What we need to do instead is continue gathering our forces in secret and start expanding on these efforts. It is more important now than ever that we take advantage of the shift in power within the imperial city. And the chaos accompanying it.”
Haruki nodded. “You intend to mount a rescue for Ōkami and Mariko, then?”
“No. Not yet.”
Surprise rippled across the metalsmith’s face, then vanished in the next breath. Yorishige opened his mouth to reply before reconsidering, one fist wrapped by the other.
Tsuneoki inhaled through his nose, trying his best to quash his uncertainty on this matter. A true leader revealed weakness from a place of strength, when the tides were on his side. “I worry what might happen if this dark magic spreads to other domains and takes hold of the people there. If the Minamoto clan does not intend to protect even those loyal to it, we cannot expect them to do anything for anyone else.”
“Good riddance to all those idiots anyway,” Ren said with a burst of cold laughter. “Good riddance to any fool daft enough to swear allegiance to that sickly pretender. The Takeda clan should be the one protecting the people, as it did before, for a thousand years. I say we storm Heian Castle and reinstall Ōkami to his rightful place as shōgun. Anyone who disagrees can be swallowed by this plague of dark magic.”
At this, Haruki turned toward Ren to face the shorter, stockier boy head-on. “You should not wish harm on those unable to defend themselves.” Creases of concern marred the glistening skin of his forehead.
Yorishige offered a sage nod while gnawing on his lower lip.
“May the spirits forgive me for daring to wish ill on those who tried to kill us,” Ren retorted without missing a beat. “I think you of all people should be in agreement with me, Haruki, especially after what they did to you as a—”
“Ren,” Tsuneoki said in a warning tone.
Irritation flared across Ren’s face as his eyes shot to skies. “Forgive me for being unfair to your new favorite, my lord Ranma—, I mean, Tsuneoki.” He sneered.
Despite the pointedness of Ren’s gibe, Tsuneoki did not respond immediately. He resumed his earlier train of thought, his attention drifting toward the swaying bamboo, as though he sought answers in its ghostly song. “It might not be a bad idea to capitalize on the undercurrent of fear flowing through the villages near the seized domains. I think now is the time to rally the people there. As much as I am loath to admit it, fear can be a strong motivation for action. If the emperor cannot protect his people, why should his people continue to serve him?” Wincing through the motions, he crouched near the stream, using a twig to draw in the earth.
The Empire of Wa had been formed from a chain of islands. The legend said that a mystical sword dipped into the sea, dragging fire and earth from its depths. The isles rose to the surface in the wake of its blade. Tsuneoki outlined the largest one. Then he scored four marks on it, for the four corners of the mainland. He connected them at the center to form a cross, then turned toward Haruki. “We should begin spreading the word that we are mounting an opposition against the Minamoto clan.”
Ren snorted. “How will we go about doing that? Ravens or starlings? Perhaps sea serpents?”
“No. I thought to use the golden crane of your dearly departed soul,” Tsuneoki gibed back. “Tell our riders to use arrows and mulberry paper.”
Again Ren laughed, the sound coarse in its amusement. “I can write the letters. We can seal it with that hideous symbol—the one that combined the crests of the Takeda and the Asano clans. No one will suspect who might be behind it. Come one and all! Join our band of traitorous brothers here in this godforsaken part of the Ghost’s Gambit.” He shrugged. “Hope you can find your way here without dying.”
“Brother, you are too much.” Yorishige smothered a grin.
Ren harrumphed. “I’m not your brother, you grain of rice.”
Haruki glanced away to conceal a grin at the same time Tsuneoki laughed outright. “Ren, you should be sure to clench your teeth,” Tsuneoki said.
Ren turned in their direction, a suspicious light catching in his gaze. “Why?”
“So they don’t rattle in your skull when I hit you.” As he spoke, Tsuneoki lobbed a small rock at Ren’s bound arm. In his attempt to avoid being struck, Ren fell headfirst into the muddy embankment. He swore as the sling around his arm caught, tripping him farther. A litany of curses flew from his mud-covered mouth. When Yorishige moved to help him, Ren hurled a fistful of muck in the boy’s direction.
Laughing to himself, Haruki shifted beside Tsuneoki, who continued studying the drawings etched into the fragrant loam. “Then we are not even going to attempt to rescue him?” He did not need to say whom. The name was always present, on the edge of every conversation they shared.
“If I know Mariko, she is halfway done composing a plan far better than any I could devise,” Tsuneoki said.
A thoughtful expression settled on Haruki’s features. “There was a time when you would have been concerned with nothing else, save sparing Ōkami. It would have consumed you. Driven you mad in a way that makes it difficult to see the dangers lying in your path.”