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The man once known as the Dark Lord of the Shadowlands stood on the balcony of a vast tower of stone, regarding the mist-shrouded lands to the south with an impassive expression. The sun was only creeping over the horizon, and its light had not yet brightened the vast gulfs between. the mountains north of the Empire.
“My love,” a velvet voice purred near his ear. “You are awake early.”
Daigotsu caressed his wife’s cheek. “Kanpeki was restless and required comforting. He sleeps now.”
Shahai frowned. “What is It?” she asked. “What troubles you?”
Daigotsu turned back to the view. “She is out there. She waits for me.”
“Who?” Shahai demanded, malice instantly present in her voice. “Do you mean her? The Ebon Daughter?” She snarled. “Dispatch Hotako at once. Bleed her dry, dismember that wretched harridan and be done with this!”
The Spider Champion chuckled. “I can always count on you for a delightfully murderous option.” His expression sombered quickly. “If such a thing could be done, I would do it with great enthusiasm and present her head to you as a gift of my love. Regrettably, that is not an option.”
“Why?” Shahai demanded. “Tell me why!”
“Because there is too much we do not yet understand, and by killing the Ebon Daughter, the opportunity to learn it may be lost forever,” Daigotsu said with an air of finality. “We already know more than the Empire, but not nearly enough.” He paused for a moment. “I must meet with her.”
“I must,” he reiterated. “She is waiting. Taunting me. I will not stand for it.’
“Take the Obsidian Legion with you,” Shahai insisted. “Or Michio. Fosuta. Something! Do not give her the chance to `destroy you!” -
“She cannot destroy me,” Daigotsu answered calmly. “In order for that to happen,: her master would have to be more powerful than mine, and I will not accept that this is possible.”
“But Kali-ma has usurped…”
“No,” Daigotsu said sharply. “Do not speak that falsehood. I do not know or understand exactly what has happened, but I do not accept the prevalent theory.”
Shahai began to protest, but looked into her husband’s eyes and saw the absolute certainty, the unwavering resolve there, and stopped. “Do not make our son an orphan,” she hissed.
Daigotsu smiled. “Our son will be an Emperor,” he said.
Susumu smiled broadly to the Seppun guardsmen who stood watch outside the quarters provided for the Empress. He always made a point to treat them with the, utmost courtesy and respect. as they alone among the ranks of the Imperial bureaucracy seemed to extend the same courtesy toward him. The other members of the Emperor’s Chosen regarded him with obvious disdain and thinly-veiled loathing, to say nothing of the Jeweled Champions. The Otomo were polite enough, but he could see that they wished nothing but to use him for their own ends, and he found them sickening on every level. Of those who truly knew What he was, or at least suspected, only the Empress and her guardsmen ignored it and treated him in keeping with his station. Thus, he treated the guards well. Should he one day disappear, then perhaps he would be remembered well among their ranks, and the authority of the Divine Empress would be undermined if only slightly by their recall. This thought pleased Susumu greatly.
“Good day. Advisor.”
Susumu smiled brightly at the voice. “Togashi Satsu-sama,” he said cheerfully. “Always a pleasure to speak with the Voice of the Empress. How does the day find you?”
“I found it a pleasant day indeed until this moment,” Satsu said flatly.
“I imagine so,” Susumu said without hesitation,. “After all, the delightful climate of these islands is perfectly suited to your rather unconventional’ fashion sense, even in the deepest part of winter.”
If the barb had any effect on the monkish samurai, Susumu could not tell. “The Empress wishes to speak with you,” he said. “Immediately.”
“I serve at her pleasure.” Susumu said with a short bow. “If you would but lead the way?”
The chambers set aside for the Empress’ private audiences were overwhelmingly ostentatious, particularly when compared to her vastly more tasteful appointments in the Imperial Palace. Still, there was a certain primitive charm to the room. Susumu had to admit. Within the Empress sat waiting behind one of the omnipresent screens she used to conceal herself during audiences. Susumu had seen her many times walking from place to place, but even during a private meeting, she remained behind a screen. It was strange, and yet… it felt appropriate. “My Empress,” he said, kneeling.
“The Empress has a request of her Advisor,” Satsu said; speaking the Empress’ will.
“Name it and it will be done.”
Satsu glanced at the Empress. “The Empress wishes to learn more, all there is to know, about the man known as Daigotsu.”
