Smoke in the Sun
Page 47

“Try it again, and I will loose this through your heart.” Yumi leaned over him, her lovely eyes narrowed. “I don’t understand you,” she repeated. “Why did you miss your shot? And why would you attack me now? I tried to help you.”
“What are you talking about?” Kenshin demanded in a hoarse tone.
The girl’s eyes grew wide. “Are you in jest?”
“What?” he ground out. “I do not jest.”
Confusion etched lines across her forehead. “You tried to kill the emperor today, Hattori Kenshin.”
The Tail of a Snake
Raiden glided down the stone steps toward the two cells housed beneath the main structure of Heian Castle. As soon as he reached the bottom, he heard the retching. Smelled the blood.
The moment he learned the imperial guards had moved the boy they’d caught to a cell in the castle’s underbelly, Raiden had begun his trek there.
But Roku had beaten him to it.
The emperor had elected to take on the boy’s interrogation, as he had with Takeda Ranmaru. Raiden had cautioned him for this choice even then. Such things were beneath the dignity of a heavenly sovereign. And it had not gone unnoticed by the soldiers. By the samurai who served at Roku’s leisure.
Who abided by a strict code of honor.
At the foot of the stone staircase, Raiden came across a soldier emptying his stomach of its contents. This was not an unseasoned warrior. Age creased his features, and his armor had faded in several places. Yet the sound of his retching continued to echo through the ghostly labyrinth.
Raiden slowed his pace until he neared the two cells. He took position behind his younger brother, who still wore the same fine garments from earlier in the evening, at Raiden’s ruined wedding ceremony. Roku’s left arm hung from a linen sling. Blood stained the whole of his shoulder. The injury the would-be assassin had inflicted was not a small one. It was only luck that the arrow’s path had gone wide.
Perhaps not luck. Perhaps it had all been part of a larger plan. Raiden paused to take note of the empty cell that had contained the son of Takeda Shingen. The traitor had managed to escape in the aftermath of the attempted assassination. This did not strike Raiden as a mere coincidence.
A garbled scream cut through his thoughts. The smell of blood and burning flesh clogged his throat. Raiden coughed, his eyes watering through a haze of oily smoke. When his sight fully readjusted, he turned his gaze toward the prisoner lying across the cell floor. Shock gripped him from the inside, causing his muscles to bunch in his stomach.
“Roku,” he whispered in horror.
His younger brother glanced at him, his features calm, save for the frown touching his lips. “Brother, I’ll encourage you not to forget whom you are addressing.” Dried blood stained his fingers. Marred the hem of his golden robes.
Raiden shook his head. Paused to bow before speaking. “Please, my sovereign. I implore you. Do not continue with this. Such things are beneath you.” He repeated the same words he’d spoken to his younger brother only several days ago.
Though Roku smiled, signs of fury mottled his skin. “Do not tell me what to do, brother.”
“My sovereign—”
Roku turned in place, his robes swirling through the filth. “Your emperor’s blood was spilled today. Our most dangerous prisoner—a threat to my very existence—managed to escape in the chaos he likely orchestrated. It was at your request that I kept Lord Ranmaru alive this long. Where is he, Raiden? Find him at once. How dare you concern yourself with anything else!” His reedy voice shook as it reverberated off the rafters.
Frustration coiled in Raiden’s throat. He’d specifically asked his younger brother to execute Ranmaru upon their arrival. But it was true he’d changed his position since then … at the request of his bride. Another fact that did not escape his notice. With a careful breath, Raiden dipped his head into a low bow. “I apologize, my sovereign. I am here to do as you command.”
Roku nodded, then turned toward the soldiers surrounding the prone boy. At least one of them looked sickened, but Raiden was far more concerned with the imperial guard tasked with restraining the boy. This young man appeared as though he were enjoying the sight of such suffering.
Never before in his life had Raiden seen anything so disturbing.
The boy was lying facedown in the packed earth, mud oozing around him. His body was a mess of blood and carefully flayed flesh. All but unrecognizable. Even the feeble sound that came from his lips seemed subhuman.
Raiden knew there was no way to gain answers or insight from this broken shell of a creature. A part of him wished to learn if his younger brother had thought to properly question the boy before devolving to this madness. As he studied Roku’s gleaming eyes and serene smile, Raiden knew the answer without asking.
“Demand that this traitor confess who ordered him to conceal the bow and arrow,” Roku said to the soldier holding the boy down. “A boy this size could not have fired a weapon like that from such a distance. He must have been helping someone. If he tells us who it was, I will let him live.”
Live? In his current condition, the boy would last until daybreak, at best.
Raiden watched the emperor attempt to lace his hands behind his back as though he were on an evening stroll. The motion pulled at his sling, causing him to cringe. Unmistakable wrath flickered across his features.
“Proceed,” Roku said to his soldiers. “Show the traitor the mercy of the imperial city.”
The boy no longer had the strength to scream. The faces of the soldiers nearby—save for the one pinning the prisoner to the ground—begged for reprieve. Soldiers well versed in the sight of warfare could no longer stomach these atrocities.
There was no honor in this.
The uncertainty that had taken root in Raiden continued to flourish amid the darkness. His mother had told him once. Only once. Not long after she learned of his father’s death, she’d looked into Raiden’s eyes, her gaze searching. He always found it difficult to read his mother’s emotions. She refused to show them to anyone. Never fought publicly with a soul. Never said an unkind word, save for the warnings she would offer him about maintaining a close relationship with his younger brother.
But his mother had said something clear and unmistakable to Raiden, in the chaotic morning following his father’s death.
“Roku is not fit to rule,” she’d said softly. “He is the tail of a snake.”
Raiden had recoiled at her words. “He is our emperor. Your words are treasonous, Mother. Never say such things to me again, if you value your life.”
She had bowed, both hands held wide as though to convey humility.
“If you are worried he will remove you from court, I know he will not,” Raiden had offered as a source of comfort.
“I am not worried for my sake, my son. But I thank you for your concern. You are a true prince among men. I shall try not to trouble you with such matters again.” Then his mother had left. When she’d gone, it felt like she’d taken the warmth with her.
She always did that, whenever hatred spewed her way from all corners of the court. His mother would bow. Turn the other cheek. And leach all the warmth from the room. Raiden had never before understood how she could disregard the injurious sentiments hurled her way, but he thought he could see why now. His mother had done it to set an example for him. To urge him to be better than the spiders at court. And what had Raiden done in response?
He’d cast her aside to serve his emperor.
“My sovereign,” Raiden said now. “Please allow me to take charge of questioning this prisoner. You have been wounded, and I worry for your health. As the key to our empire—its beating heart—your safety is paramount. Please permit us to protect you from the traitors in your midst.”
Roku considered him for a moment, his head inclined to one side. “How generous of you to make such an offer, brother. After all, it is your wedding night. You have more pleasurable things to attend to.”
“I live to serve my sovereign. And no one else.” As he bowed again, Raiden let a small object sheathed within the sleeve of his kosode fall into his waiting palm.
A moment passed in utter stillness. The only sounds that could be heard were the staggered breaths of those present. The broken rasps of the tortured boy.