The Shadow of Issu

Rice and Wine

Akane graced the streets of Goundo circle, accompanied by a chaperone from the Kuzuboki who awaited her arrival. The townsfolk had something cast across their face a deep gloom that could not be described whether it arose from fear or desperation— fear that the flames of war was aloft and it would only be a matter of days before their so called ‘peace’ becomes nothing more than a memory, or perhaps the desperation of deliverance.

Goundo was a few miles south of Katen. Its current state, where they had taken no sides, may have saved them from collateral damage, but their loyalty is questioned for when the war finally concludes.

This was Akane’s mission— persuade Goundo back into Ogana’s control, and she knew exactly how to do it. 

“Tell me, has there been current exports of Goundo wine to Ogana these past few years?” She asks the chaperone.

Akane could tell that it was rather a strange question, because the man’s face was as she had expected.

“I am sure there were not any.” He answers stiffly.

“Is that so, even after all of the ministry’s attempt to purchase, you still deny them?”

“It is not my position to answer you, my lady.” The man uttered, cutting the conversation short.

They reached upon the first floor of the Goundo Kuzuboki. It had only reached five floors high, but it was significantly spacious. The walls were adorned in paintings, and in the middle of the temple, a clearing opened to the sky above. A small spring welled from where the sun shines upon that small space, its water glistening in the dancing sunlight. Atop the springs was what seemed to remain as the roots of a tree that once stood there.

The walls of the temple were not very well-lit, save for that small clearing. Kuzuboki maidens had begun to light the lanterns around the vicinity which suddenly draped the whole place in a flaming radiance that reflected on the iron walls.

“Lord Goundo’s health is… brittle, so we may ask of you to put these on.”

The man handed her a white mask, and Akane put it on.

The man was not allowed to go to the chamber room, so Akane had to walk these steps alone until she came upon the fourth floor, where a path opened to a training hall, and further up there, a small staircase that lead to a spacious, though significantly smaller area. It was located at the other side of the palace, cutting off from the main Kuzuboki by the lengthy hallway to the training ground that she had seen before she took these staircases.

Here, the fourth floor was an extension of the palace, topmost of the building’s exterior, and smaller.

The scene came to an open room. A thinly man, a white robe draped over him, was staring into the ashen sky. Behind him, adorned and ornamented on the walls, were two swords that were presented conspicuously. The hair on his face has grown long, and the shallows of his face has deepened and darkened—a display of war’s toll on the man. Though old he was, he did not seem to throw away any form of impediment.

He was seated on a mat at the middle of a small space, with the doors and windows opened to the view overlooking the rivers below them, draped in a grey shroud that speaks the coming of winter.

A small table was laid beside him, where a brew that smelled like herbal medicine was prepared beside him by a Kuzuboki maiden, masked and draped with white linen from head to toe.

“The emissary from the capital.” He notices her footstep.

“Lord Goundo Hase,” Akane bowed. “A pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

“I cannot say I am pleased to meet yours, Lady Tomoga.” He spoke reaching out the letter that was delivered by Shida a few weeks ago through a raven. “Your presence reeks from that of the capital’s stench, and it is one that is deemed putrid in Goundo during these dark times.”

“Forgive me, my lord. Lord Shida must see that this diplomatic intervention through before he moves his plans onward. I hope I do not impose too much.” Akane bowed.

He turned to the maiden who was seated beside him and nodded. The girl took his command, nodded to both her lord and his guest, and momentarily excused herself.

“Take the mask off, I do not wish to be reminded that I walk close to death.” The ruler chortled.

Akane took the white cloth, folded it and placed it on her lap.

“Sooner or later, I knew Goundo’s little rebellion from the capital will be called to attention,” He turned around “though I have never expected them to come to an ambassadorial standpoint.”

“Lord Kuzaemon Shida has a different… approach to things than his father.” Akane answered.

“Is that so?” Hase raised his head towards the sky. “The wine that is poured from an old broken cask to a new one, is still the same wine. Shida still believes and continues to fight by and for his father’s ideals. A vision that left Issu asunder, and yet now, he hopes to reunite it.”

“It would only make sense that his ideals will live on beyond his time.”

“What makes you say so?”

“Lord Kuzaemon Yukono is a visionary, and a honorable warlord, and all of Issu knows of—”

“Honorable?” Hase raised an eyebrow.

“Lord Yukono knew whom he fought for.”

The old ruler chortled, and soon his chuckle turned into laughter. “Bah! That man is far something else, though I would not call it as far as honorablet. To strike fear in his own countryman’s hearts in a manner that only he knew. That flame in his eyes—a blazing sheen, almost as if it was going to consume him. Yukono was on the verge of madness, I saw it when I fought alongside him against the Ukumari in the Seven Year War. Fighting like a demon, slaughtering men after men without a single speck of remorse. There was only death in his eyes, and terror in his enemy’s. When I have heard of his death, it still baffles me to this day how he was slain in Orel.”

“My lord, I presume you have known of his passing?”

“I have. All of Issu has. An arrow straight through his neck. Who could have the power and the eye to strike him down like that? … I wonder.”

Hase stirred, and from below the table where his medicinal tea was laid, he took out a ceramic bottle and took off the cork. He prepared two small ceramic cups and poured the clear-white liquid.

“Before anything else. Tapu.” Hase raised the cup and placed it in front of her.

He then took his cup and drank it down in one gulp. With a warm breath and a relaxed shoulder, Hase sat right up, and looked to Akane, waiting for her to take her drink.

“Here in Goundo, where Tapu flows, we take matters of agreement seriously, and one way to do that here is for two parties to drink from a common bottle.” He spoke. “I guarantee you that it is not poisoned.”

Akane took the cup and drank. A cold chill went up her spine but a wave came soon after that eased the tension in her muscles. “Tapu, Goundo’s very own fermented rice wine.” She spoke. “I am not fond with alcohol, but this is quite the beverage, my lord.”

“Hina, my granddaughter, does not want me to drink, especially in this health, she says. But to be Goundo and not drink is something none short of unorthodoxy! That is why, I keep here, the finest Tapu of all Goundo only for certain occasions.”

“Your granddaughter must really care for you.”

“She is not my granddaughter by blood. Her father was a dear friend and a loyal Tenshando to me. But during the Fifth Year, at Hundan Passage, Yoshida fell in battle. It was an ambush, we were merely fifty men, taking the sunken valley route to regroup, when the Ukumari came out of nowhere. I knew my life was forfeit there, if it had not been Toku. To honor his loyalty, I gave Hina and her mother a home, and I protected Nizuka from those who wanted to fill her husband’s place.”

Hase gazed longingly to the ashen azure sky that opened from the paper doors beside them. “Hina was raised in a time of depression, but her exposure to this world’s filth has made her realize a lot of reality’s shortcomings. Her mother died three years following her father’s, but Hina grew up to be a fine woman—A smart, graceful, and powerful warrior.” Hase spoke that last line as if he had described a swordsman. He took one last sip from his cup, shaking away the wounds that began to open from these old memories.

“Enough of these pleasantries.” He digressed. “Say what you must now, lady Tomoga. What has Ogana’s diplomat come to fill the boredom of Goundo’s dying governor?”

“Rice, my lord.” She spoke.

“Rice?” Hase repeated, confused.

“For a land called to be the Valley of God’s Blood, life seems to be quite stark in Goundo.”

Hase’s eyes turned dim, and inside them, a troubling concern warred like embers. He looks to Akane, a composed, well-upheld woman who stared back at him with eyes that harbored secrets. He instantly knew that Akane had already known of Goundo’s troubles.

“Word does travel quick, does it not?”

“Perhaps, or that it only takes a certain someone to figure out that your people is in desperate need. Despite boasting of a huge army, I doubt Goundo has enough supplies to support it. One might even say… that you are bluffing, Lord Hase.”

The man turned away, and he refused to deny such truth. “So you know that Goundo has become what it is now, a cesspool of degenerates, many have come to call it. I refuse to let them name my people with condescension. If we are to be accused, then we will take no side. We have no ties to profanation, I feed my people what this land has to offer, not by some dark arts that those from the northeast conjure and practice.”

“I did not come here to accuse you of such practice, Lord Hase. As I have assured before, that I come here purely of diplomatic reasons, and that I implore that we come to an agreement, both for our interests, built upon a discussion of rationality and sound minds.” She answered him.

“Ogana extends its hand to Goundo, Lord Hase.” Akane spoke, unravelling a scroll before him. “Lord Shida knows that we, as a nation divided, will not go so far, and so he allows me any method of persuasion and to present any terms for negotiation so that we may be able to find common ground, my lord. To that, I once again offer a solution from my previous prospect—Rice.” She extends the parchment until it reached into Hase’s interest.

He took the scroll and his eyes ran through every word. Suddenly, he rolls it, and he closed his eyes.

“This land, is a free land… If my people knew that their governor succumbed to Ogana scums, then what better am I as a leader to them than the rebellious rats that threaten our lands.”

“I can observe that you still possess spite towards the capital, but it will not be a deterrence, so long as you aid Ogana in its endeavors against the Teyan.”

“That is exactly the problem, strategist.” Hase stood up, holding himself up with a hand upon his knees as he trembled to stand. But as he stood fully erect, his chest beamed, and his chin raised high. He shambled, across the mats and reached for one of the swords propped upon the wall of his room. He took the Kurutashi, the long sword, and unsheathed it from the scabbard.

He examines the blade for quite a time as he continues to ponder upon the sheen of its edge, as if it spoke to him. He turned to Akane, his glare piercing down on the seated woman. He points the sword to his side and his countenance was filled with disdain. “The Teyan, the capital, they are all selfish warlords trying to eat away every single parcel of land this virgin country has to offer. You come to me, and offer me something that belongs to the land, a land where all men may walk upon. Goundo will not submit. Not to the Teyan, not to your Lord Shida.”

Hase kneeled and his Kurutashi dropped to the floor.

“Perhaps, the greatest sin I have made was that when I succumbed to the demands of Lord Kuzaemon. I may owe him my life at Hundan Pass… but at what cost? To sleep every night, hoping to never dream the faces of those that he has slaughtered… Do you know this, lady Togoma? Did you know that your lord murdered by the thousands just because they fought for their own land?”

Akane stayed quiet for a moment, thinking, ruminating, and then she answered.

“It was for Issu’s peace.”

“Peace?” Hase spoke. “Do you call the wailing of the dead, peace? Do you call the silence that haunts the streets of ghost towns, peace? If you must confuse peace with quiet, then you have not known a restless spirit. There has never been peace when Yukono sat as minister.”

It is true. Akane spoke inside her mind. Though she was forbid to speak of it. The silence of those buried underneath their own lands remain unheard as Yukono waged wars against the many nations of Issu, in a conquest to expand Ogana’s rule.

“Sacrifice is never a matter of choice, but of will. That is what Lord Kuzaemon always said.”

Lord Yukono was not a villain. He was as fearsome as he was benevolent to his people. He aimed to unify Issu, and enacted his authority with an iron fist. The bloodshed was necessary. Ogana has become a prosperous city due to Lord Kuzaemon Yukono’s feats, and his victories have fell upon many ears, his actions, and the means of attaining order, remain to be called essential to the betterment of Issu.

Akane had lived all her life seeing things, and witnessing events, questioning the motives of each person. She understood perfectly as to why each man has to swing a sword, but even she herself does not know which side to fight for.

“Peace attained for the price of freedom is just another face of oppression.” The old governor muttered staring into the twilight sky.

“Lord Goundo Hase. Did you feel beset during the time of Lord Kuzaemon’s reign?”

Suddenly, like a fire that had died down, the swallowing conflagration that drowned in his eyes turned to a lighter shade—a certain fear? She could not tell.

Hase picked up the fallen Kurutashi and sheathed it. He propped it upon the wall and breathed a deep resentful sigh. “If Goundo comes to your aid against the Teyan, you will repay the favor in rice?” He asked.

“Rice, and everything that Ogana can offer to your people.”

Hase turned away from her glare as if he was sickened by it, but he was smiling. “This land has never been good to us, not once. This land is dead, and the only thing that grew here were the persimmons. Its abundance allowed us many use for it, and we fermented the best wine Issu has to offer in this far south. But what other use has this land now?”

He returned his gaze to Akane. “I will answer to your demands, Lady Tomoga, but under one condition.”

Akane sat there, motionless, ears stayed affixed on the old man’s words.

“You are to kill my granddaughter.”