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.

Then the looting began in the outermost districts.

Strange figures—their motions jerky as though their bodies had been broken and pieced back together—lurched into the winding lanes of the Iwakura ward, moving about as though they saw or cared or felt nothing, like the husk of living humans. They tossed barrels through doors. Broke locks securing valuables. Ignored the shouts of protests.

Some of them even silenced dissenters where they stood. Many of these human husks carried weapons forged by master artisans. Several of them bore the crests of eastern clans loyal to the emperor. Anyone who stood in their way was quickly cut down. As death and devastation raged in the streets, the people of these wards cried out for imperial troops to come to their aid. They rushed toward the city center, abandoning their homes, bringing with them only that which they could carry.

Only to find their paths blocked by lines of silent soldiers.

As word of the mounting unrest carried through Inako—into the homes of the wealthy, closest to the castle gates—the outcry grew. Soon messengers were being dispatched to all corners. Despite the fear and the protests, the looting continued to spread, converging slowly toward the city center. Imperial guards erected barriers preventing entry without expressed permission.

The cries of those left to fend for themselves burgeoned to a roar. Pleas for assistance became shouts of fury. Demands that the emperor open the gates of Heian Castle and offer aid to his people. Protect those in need of it.

As these outcries rose throughout the city, lanterns burst to life. Those still left standing armed and barricaded themselves in their homes, wondering how an enemy force had managed to infiltrate their streets unseen.

In less than two days, Inako was no longer a city of arched bridges and cherry trees. A city of secrets and mystery.

It was a city of death and fear.

Overtaken

When Kenshin woke, he was naked save for a loincloth. His eyes strained at the morning sunlight.

Morning?

No. Afternoon.

He rolled over on his pallet, knocking over an empty sake bottle. A soft sigh emanated from behind him. When he whipped his head around, his sight locked on a girl of no more than twenty, watching him.

Or rather keeping watch over him.

“Are you finally awake?” she asked. She did not call him “my lord,” nor did she offer a hint of obeisance. Her very voice dripped with judgment.

“How long have I been asleep?” He groaned.

The girl was quick to correct him. “You’ve been lying in a drunken stupor for the better part of two days.”

“Who are you?” he said. “And what gives you the right to talk to me like this? Do you know who I am?”

“My name is Kirin. You are in my lady Yumi’s home. And I have cleaned the spittle from your chin and washed your stinking body for the past two days.” She sniffed. “It doesn’t matter who you are, piss is piss.”

At this affront, Kenshin sat up with a start, intent on giving Kirin a sound verbal thrashing. Immediately he regretted the motion. An anvil settled on his skull, grinding into his brain. He groaned again and glanced around the room. It was small but tastefully appointed. The furniture in it was of highest quality, and the bedding opulent, if a bit soiled.

A careful appraisal informed Kenshin that he did, in fact, stink. Troubled by the truth of Kirin’s words, he decided to overlook her insolence for the time being. “Why was I brought here?”

She laughed softly. “You weren’t brought here. You came here, hurling accusations and destroying things like a lovesick fool.”

The images swirling through Kenshin’s mind came into sharp focus. The last thing he recalled with absolute clarity was this: the maiko Yumi revealing that he—Hattori Kenshin, the Dragon of Kai—had been the one responsible for the attempt on the emperor’s life. At her words, his thoughts had gone blank. Wrath had barreled up his throat, protests forming on his tongue. And then something had ripped across his vision. A weight had lodged between his eyes, the pain sharp and intense.

It was as though his mind had been split in two.

The pressure on his skull had become unbearable. Like water passing through a crack in a dam. How could he have been the one to commit such an act of treason? How was this possible? It wasn’t. It was all a lie. One carefully constructed to distract him from learning how Yumi had snuck into his chamber. What she was doing on the imperial grounds, dressed as a boy, bearing a forbidden weapon.

It had all been too much for him in that moment. Kenshin had fallen to the floor and lost consciousness. He remembered nothing after that.

“Are you ready to return to the castle?” Kirin asked. “Prince Raiden has voiced his concern for you. We sent word with respect to your whereabouts.” She paused. “My lady delivered a message to your sister yesterday.”

Kenshin shook his head. “I am not going back to the castle. I’m going home.”

“I don’t think that’s possible.” The girl crossed her arms, again the portrait of impudence.

“Excuse me?” Kenshin sputtered.

“No one can travel past the outer gates of the city. Not with all the rioting there.”

Kenshin pressed his hands to his temples and blinked hard. “I know nothing of what you’re saying.”

“Right. Because you were so drunk.” Kirin nodded. “The districts along the outskirts of the city have been overrun by looters. They appear to be afflicted by a strange plague. The emperor has cordoned off the innermost parts of Inako in order to prevent the unrest from spreading to the castle, so we are safe in Hanami. For now.” She sighed. “Believe me, I’d like nothing more than to assist with your departure. I am still amazed that my lady allowed you to remain here, much less in her own home, after the manner in which you treated her.”

Kenshin stared blankly at the girl.

“You don’t even recall that?” The girl sniffed. “You accused my mistress of treason, in front of five high-ranking advisors to the emperor. I must say, they all found your story quite amusing. They even offered you drinks afterward.” Irritation creased her brow. “Until you began throwing things, that is. Now that you are recovered, my lady wishes you safe travels on your way home.” She bowed at him smartly. Cheekily.

The gaps in Kenshin’s memory struggled to settle, like blurred lines on a hot summer’s day. But his mind had failed him on more than one occasion of late. It had left him weak. Vulnerable. He bristled against the idea. Kenshin was a samurai of great renown. Warriors of his ilk knew better than to let their emotions dictate their actions. He would marshal his irritation with this rude maidservant, so that he would not lose the chance to confront her mistress again. He had not forgotten how Yumi had knocked him off his feet with less effort than it took to swat a fly. Only a studied combatant possessed those kind of skills, and the maiko would be unlikely to disclose who had trained her. Not without some … convincing.

“Is your mistress here now?” Kenshin tried.

Kirin nodded once. “But she has no intention of seeing you.” Another knowing smile. “I’m sure you can understand why.”




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