The Ruined Kingdom, Part 2

The Ruined Kingdom, Part 2
The conclusion of the Mantis Clan’s arrival in the distant and mysterious Ivory Kingdoms.

By Shawn Carman

Edited by Fred Wan

The rock wall isolated the entire atoll, stilling the wind and preventing anyone who did not brave the inhospitable terrain and risk the fury of the shojo, whatever those were, would never see the interior. In many ways, it was the perfect place of concealment.

“My father found this place during his stay many years ago,” the gaijin youth said, as if reading Kalani’s mind. “He realized at once that it was the perfect place for a shipyard. He had his shugenja create the rock wall to conceal it, and somehow he used magic to make an arrangement with the shojo.” The boy frowned slightly. “I have never truly understood how that worked. But it matters not! After he left to return to your Empire, he left a small force of men and women behind to maintain the shipyard.” His grin resurfaced, spreading from ear to ear. “And as you can see, these past few decades have not been idle years.”

Moshi Kalani knelt on the deck of the ship and ran his hand across the surface of the wood. “I have never felt a deck so smooth,” he muttered almost to himself. He looked up at the youth. “Anshu,” he said, stumbling over the strange name, “where are the ones who built these? There most be dozens of them!”

“Eight of your Rokugani remain,” Anshu said. “There were more, but they succumbed to age, illness, or in some cases assassination.”

“Assassination?” Tsuruchi Gidayu perked up. “What do you mean?”

“There is a foul cult that plagues this land,” Anshu said, his face a rare expression of solemnity. “They alone know of my father’s activities here, and they alone have the audacity to attack his vassals. None who have come here have ever survived, but they have exacted a price.”

“Eight men,” Kalani said, running his hand across the wood again. “I don’t see how it is possible. These,” he gestured, taking in the ships in the atoll, “there are so many! And they are so enormous!”

“My mother’s family assisted,” Anshu said with obvious pride. “Her entire family joined her here. Dozens of men and women. They were not shipwrights, my mother said, but they learned quickly and could follow the designs your men created.” He smiled. “It took them five years to come across the design they agreed was best. They are called atakebune. My father’s men said they would be the largest and most dangerous vessels on your sea.”

“Your father’s men were right,” Gidayu said appreciatively. “What are these?”

“I do not know the name,” Anshu said.

“They resemble the ballista the Crab use on the Carpenter Wall,” Kalani said. “Smaller, though.”

“They are magnificent,” Gidayu said appreciatively.

“These atakebune resemble the koutetsukan,” Kalani said. “It did not seem so from a distance, but there are definite similarities.”

“I know that word,” Anshu said. “Iron tortoises, yes?”

“Iron turtles, but yes,” Kalani said. “The hull on those ships is plated with iron. It makes them very difficult to damage but also very slow.”

“The beams of these ships have some metal reinforcement,” Anshu continued. “Your men said that they would sail circles around the iron tortoises, though.”

“They’re enormous!” Gidayu said. “You could get more than one hundred men on this vessel and still have room for the largest cargo any kobune could ever hope to carry.”

“What does the Fourth Storm mean?” Anshu asked suddenly. “I have always wondered.”

“The Mantis Clan organizes its ships into fleets called Storms,” Kalani explained. “There are three at present, but this” his voice trailed off. “I could exhaust the entire Second Storm and we would not have nearly enough to crew this fleet of ships.” He shook his head. “I do not know what to do with them. I cannot get them all back to the Empire.”

“We could recruit some from Anshu’s people, perhaps,” Gidayu observed, still staring lovingly at the miniature ballista built onto the deck. “We would need to keep it quiet, of course. No sense inflaming the other clans by bringing even more gaijin into the Empire, but still.”

“That is unlikely,” Anshu said, unusually subdued. “I suspect you would be hard-pressed to find more than enough people to crew a half dozen of these at most.”

“What?” Kalani said. “Why?”

Anshu only turned away. Kalani began to press the issue when he heard the roar of profanity somewhere nearby. He looked up and scanned the horizon, grinning slightly when he saw the old man Komori standing on the rock wall overlooking the atoll. “Komori!” he shouted, waving. “Down here!”

There was a stirring of the breeze, and the old man’s voice was in his ear suddenly. “Akodo’s lost eyeball, boy!” the whisper sputtered. “What is the meaning of all this?”

“I will explain in person,” Kalani answered. “Do you need me?”

“I look forward to that explanation,” the old priest said, “but yes, you are needed. It’s Singh. He has returned.”

* * * * *

Yoritomo Singh took off his ever-present head wrap and set it aside, taking a long drink from a clay bottle that sat on the table. He sat the bottle back down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked years older than he had only days before, Kalani thought. The gaijin lowered his head and did not meet Kalani’s eyes. “It is gone,” he said, his voice hoarse.

Kalani glanced to the other members of the crew that had accompanied Singh on his short voyage. “I am sorry, I do not understand. What do you mean?”

Here Singh looked up and met his gaze. The gaijin’s eyes were haunted. “It is gone,” he repeated. “All of it.”

Inwardly worried that the man might have suffered some sort of breakdown, Kalani looked up to Yoritomo Rui, captain of the vessel on which Singh had traveled. “As per your command,” Rui began, “we sailed up the coast after the rest of the fleet made landfall. According to Singh-sama’s estimation, there was a major port city located approximately eight hours farther along the shore.”

Kalani nodded. “Yet you were gone for two days. We feared you may have been lost to the sea.”

Rui suppressed a sneer, but not before Kalani caught sight of it surfacing on her lips. “No storm can take the Fire Blossom,” she countered. “My ship made it in just over six hours, as I expected.”

“And the city?” Kalani asked. “It is gone?”

“No,” Rui answered. “It is still there. It is merely dead.”

“If I may be frank, vague answers are beginning to annoy me,” Kalani said darkly.

“The city is dead,” Singh said loudly. “Everything in it is destroyed. Hardly a building remains intact in the entire area. There was no one there. Not one person in the entire city. Thousands used to call it home. Dozens or even hundreds of ships came through its docks every day. Now the sea floor is littered with ship carcasses.”

“Fortunes,” Kalani swore. “Is that why you were gone so much longer than planned?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Rui said. “At first we were searching for survivors at Singh-sama’s insistence.”

“At first?”

Rui nodded. “After we found none, we spent a greater portion of time searching for casualties.”

“Casualties?” Kalani was aghast. “You searched for the dead?”

“And found nothing,” Rui confirmed.

“Every living soul in the city is gone,” Singh said, his tone forlorn. “No man, woman or child remains. And not one body, not one skeleton, not even any graves. Nothing.”

Kalani rose and paced across the tent. “War?” he said after a moment’s consideration. “If the city was wiped out long enough ago, could their remains have been lost?”

“No,” Komori said quietly. “Bones remain for many years, and it has not been that long since the Mantis were here last. Or Singh, for that matter.”

“Could the city have been conquered and its citizens enslaved?” Kalani said. “Were there signs of a forced march or anything similar?”

“Nothing,” Rui said. “I do not wish to sound foolish, commander, but I found the entire experience extremely disturbing.” She hesitated, and looked both at Singh and the young man standing quietly behind Kalani. “There was one other thing,” she began.

“In the city there was a hill,” Singh interrupted suddenly. His eyes had taken on a far-away look. “The view was rapturous. You could see ships from miles away, so far that they were but specks upon the horizon.” He smiled slightly. “If you turned the other way, though, you could see the mountains beyond. If the conditions were just perfect, you could see between the peaks and make out the distant form of the Maharaja’s palace in the far reaches inland. I used to go there to see it often.” He lowered his head. “The conditions were perfect the last day we were there. The Maharaja’s palace was gone. There was nothing between the peaks.”

“What is a Maharaja?” Rui asked.

“Their Emperor,” Kalani answered. “Their Imperial Palace, perhaps the entire Imperial City, may have suffered the same fate as the port you visited.” He looked for a moment at Singh, who appeared completely lost within himself. “What else did you find, Rui?”

“What?” The captain seemed startled.

“You said there was one other thing,” Kalani insisted. “What? What was it?”

Rui licked her lips. “One of my officers, Aranai she spent time among the Tsuruchi. She is a gifted scout and well, quite frankly she enjoys exploring and is good at it. While the rest of us where helping Singh, I gave her leave to search around the city and find something, anything, that we could use.”

“And?” Kalani demanded.

Rui withdrew a scroll. “She found a symbol drawn on the ruins. She found it more than once, in multiple places throughout the city. Always hidden, though. Never where it could be seen easily.” She handed Kalani the scroll. “I had her reproduce it. Singh-sama had already withdrawn to the cabin for the journey, however. He has not seen it.”

Kalani looked from the scroll to the gaijin, but he showed no signs of even having heard the captain’s account. The commander frowned, but opened the scroll. “This means nothing to me,” he admitted. He spread it on the table. “Singh, have you”

Yoritomo Singh’s eyes blazed back into focus. “Ruhmalites!”

“Cultist scum!” Anshu exploded from behind Kalani. He leaned forward and spat on the symbol.

Rui recalled in horror, and Kalani wondered if some of the boy’s spittle had gotten on her. She reached for her blade. “I don’t know who you are, you filthy little mongrel,” she spat

“No,” Kalani lifted a hand. “Anshu does not yet understand our ways, but he will not be harmed by any Mantis who wishes to remain part of the clan. Is that clear?”

Rui looked shocked, but slowly lowered her weapon. “As you say, commander.”

Kalani looked over his shoulder at Anshu. “The cultists you mentioned? The ones who attacked the shipyard and tried to assassinate the Mantis shipwrights?”

“The same,” Anshu said. His angry expression gave way to confusion mixed with embarrassment. “I I do not know much else about them, honestly.”

Kalani turned to the other man sitting at the table. “I have heard that term before, briefly, in reference to Aramasu-sama’s war here. What does `Ruhmalites’ mean, Singh-san?”

The older man stared at him evenly. “It means we must leave this land at once.”

* * * * *

Kalani sat alone on the expanse of beach, staring at the sea. The paper with the mark the Fire Blossom’s crew had found was crumpled slightly on the sand behind him, abandoned but not forgotten. He stared at the endless waves before him, lost in thought. He heard but did not react to the soft shuffling of sand as someone else approached. He said nothing for several minutes as the other individual stood silently, waiting. “Another crisis?” he finally asked. “I suppose this is what is must be like to be in command. Do Clan Champions have to endure this sort of responsibility all the time? I cannot imagine.”

“It depends on the clan, I suppose,” Komori said, sitting down next to Kalani and immediately beginning to irritably brush the sand from his robes. “Smaller clans have fewer issues, but ones of greater importance. I imagine the converse is equally true.”

“I would not know,” Kalani admitted. “I have never been more than a first mate, and even that was more responsibility than I desired.”

“What is it you desire?” Komori asked. “I have always wondered. Your name has ever been on the lips of those who observe the political eddies and currents within the Mantis, but you never seemed to possess ambition or greed.” He shrugged. “Some consider it a weakness, but I do not.”

“I desire only peace,” Kalani said. “Freedom from burdens, to find my place in the world without interference.”

“Is that why you accepted this command?” Komori asked. “Because you were promised that peace if you succeeded?”

“I accepted this command because it was the wish of my lord Naizen that I do so,” Kalani answered. “And contrary to what some may believe, duty is the most important thing to me, far more so than any petty desires of my own.” He turned to look at the older man. “I am not a courtier or a priest. I am a warrior, and it is my duty to serve my Champion in whatever capacity he desires. I did not accept a command, I merely accepted my destiny.”

“Hmph,” Komori said. “When most say things like that, I think them shallow fools incapable of a more complex response. You seem too sincere for that, though.”

“Thank you. I think.”

The two men sat quietly for a while, watching the sea. “What will we do now?” Komori asked.

“I do not know,” Kalani said instantly. “Already more has happened than I could have imagined. Our task was to consult with the lords of the Kingdoms to find all we could about Kali-ma and her army. Now I find that they are either dead or gone.”

“Should we search for them?”

“We could, but I scarcely see the point,” Kalani said. “We will not find anything. I have Gidayu organizing the Tsuruchi into long range scouting patrols, but I know what he will find.” He looked at Komori. “Don’t you?”

“Yes,” Komori admitted. “This is a dead land.”

“A ruined kingdom,” Kalani agreed.

“How long before we return?” Komori asked. “We will have a difficult journey every day that passes. Winter is drawing ever closer.”

“Therein lies the true problem,” Kalani admitted. “To fulfill our duty we will need to remain here for a minimum of a few weeks, perhaps a month. We cannot return until we have some sort of answer, whatever it may be. That would put us sailing home into the harsh winter of Rokugan. That is not an ideal situation, not by any measure.”

“Is there even winter here?” Komori wondered.

“I do not know, but we must assume there is,” Kalani said. “And we will be spending that winter here. We cannot depart before the spring thaws the Empire.”

“The whole winter?” Komori exclaimed. “Are you mad? With no shelter, no ready source of food? We cannot winter here. We were supposed to be in an allied port city, where we could barter for supplies. What are we to do with no port?”

“I thought that was obvious,” Kalani said. “We will build one of our own.”

As the two men sat, the sun began to slip below the horizon. It set upon the Mantis Clan, lords of the Ivory Kingdoms.