Words And Deeds

Words And Deeds
By Shawn Carman, Edited by Fred Wan

Toshi Ranbo, the Imperial City

Otomo Hoketuhime favored the sentries who stood guard at the door to her private chamber with one of her warmest smiles, then stepped within and slid the screen dosed.

It was not normally her custom to pay any attention to such non-entities, of course, but then she had experienced a particularly good day, one of a series of very good days, and she was feeling young again despite her age.

That thought alone was enough to sour her mood, if only slightly. One of her informants among the Phoenix had brought it to her attention that there were some among the capital’s political delegations who believed she was too old to take the throne-as the never Empress. It was ridiculous, of course, more so because Hoketuhime had taken great pains to never mention any intention of taking the throne. She had never so much as intimated Fortunately, she had no need to do so thus far. The Otomo were sowing the seeds among the Great Clans with tremendous success, aided in no small part by the Crane pan’s championing of the cause. It was all coming together very well Soon, the discussions concerning the matter would become so prominent that Hoketuhime, who oversaw the largest and most significant court in the entire Empire, would have to address the issue. Amused deference would be the most appropriate means of addressing it, she thought. It would stoke the fire among those who believed that the only person who should sit upon the throne was one who did not wish to do so.

Hoketuhime’s frown deepened as she considered what obstacles might lie in her path. The Emerald Champion, Shosuro Jimen, continued to be a concern. He seemed like nothing less than the perfect ally, which of course was a lie of the greatest magnitude, but thus far the Otomo had been unable to determine any particular motivation behind some of his stranger edicts and actions. Only today he had brought the warrior Kakita Matabei to court and championed his return to glory. After serving as the commander of the Empress’ Guard, Matabei had lived in disgrace following the Empress’ death a year ago. What benefit could Jimen see In risking his own reputation for such a thing? The favor of the Crane Clan? That was not forthcoming, and Matabei had nothing to offer Jimen personally.

There were times Hoketuhime mined, that it seemed Jimen did what he did for no reason at all, other than to see the reactions of others. The thought was both amusing, for it painted him a fool, and terrifying, for it made him completely and utterly unpredictable, and that was something Hoketuhime could not abide.

Her attempt to create a foil for Jimen in the courts had likewise come to little.

The new Jade Champion. Kurd Daigo, certainly had little use for Jimen, but the two had not come into conflict with one another as the Imperial families had hoped. In fact, they seemed to avoid one another as much as possible. Even today, when the two had exchanged cross words after months of waiting, Doji Nagori had been there to defuse the situation. Hoketuhime shook her head. Perhaps she should call in a few favors and have Nagori reassigned elsewhere. If he was going to try and keep the peace, then he could not remain in Hoketuhime’s court.

As the elder stateswoman crossed her chambers to begin removing her courtly attire, she stumbled slightly on one of the thick rugs that adorned her floor, and fell to her knees with a gasp of pain. She clenched her teeth against the burning in her knees, and reached behind her to sooth the muscle that she had felt wrench terribly in the fall. Though she was loathe to admit it, she was no longer a young woman.

Thoughts of her age disappeared as Hoketuhime drew her hand away from her back and stared at it mutely. It was covered in blood. The woman opened her mouth to scream for the guards, but there was a tugging sensation and a flash of pain from her throat, and she suddenly could not speak.

The room reeled, and Hoketuhime was only vaguely aware of liquid coursing down her body, staining the front of her kimono and pooling around her hands. The room’s shadows grew darker, and began to creep forward. The strength faded from her arms, and she fell forward in a heap, laying in a pool of her own blood.

The last thing that Otomo Hoketuhime heard in the world, was the mysterious sound of something small and metal being dropped on the floor next to her.

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