The shinobi clutched his wakizashi, his fingers felt strong. Stronger than they had in in the days since his battle with the barbarian assassin. Perhaps strong enough to do it this time? Hattori Masaheide knelt beside his bed and put the blade to his stomach. As he pressed the tip of the blade to his skin he felt pain spread from the half healed wound left by the barbarian. His hand trembled.
I need to do this. I need to regain some honor. I failed my emperor. The tip of the blade pierced into his skin a small ribbon of blood dripped down his stomach. I need to. The short sword slipped from his fingers and clattered on the floor.
Masaheide collapsed beside it, his body heaving with every breath.
Weak. Coward. Masaheide stayed on the floor, clutching himself. Why couldn't he do it?
"Masaheide-sama," a voice called from outside his room. "Masaheide are you in there?"
"One moment," the shinobi got to his feet, steadying himself on a counter. He took a breath and wiped the tears from his eyes. He sheathed his wakizashi and noticed the blood stain that dripped down his robe.
Masaheide slid open his door. The first sword of the Imperial Retainers looked him up and down, stopping at the blood on his shirt. "What is this?"
"Minamoto-no-Saburo," Masaheide winced as he bowed. "My apologies a scab opened up as I prepared."
"You're not ready," Saburo frowned. "The Daijo-Sai is nearly over, you're supposed to be guarding the transition."
"I will be there."
Saburo nodded, "Are you certain? I can call someone else."
"Of course, Saburo-domo" Masaheide bowed, "It looks worse than it is. That is why I did not notice it until just now."
"Then hurry. The rest of the guards will not wait for you." Then walked off to wherever his next duties took him. Masaheide shut his door and ripped off his robe. He had a small cut; it would scab before the day's end. But he couldn't be bleeding through his clothes in the ceremony. He wrapped up his stomach, wincing as his hand brushed over his earlier deeper wounds. The barbarian's sword cut deep and would leave him with a reminder of his failures for the rest of his life. However long he could stomach that dishonor.
Masaheide put on his ornamented padding, clothes, and armor. A special design highlighted in gold, silver, and red as befit his position as the imperial guard. A bit bulkier than he preferred for use in combat, but then he did not expect to be fighting anyone today. Who would dare cause a problem during the most holy of the enthronement ceremonies?
Probably just as likely as a murder in the emperor's winter palace.
He looked at himself in his mirror. He looked fit enough, his face still sporting a bruise where the barbarian's shield struck him, but that could not be helped. His other wounds did not show. Satisfied he left his room, his head high. Each of the servants and guards he passed gave him differential nods as he passed, none of them knowing his weakness.
He exited the castle into the garden where the two freshly built huts that housed the new empress and emperor and the rice they were to eat and complete their transformation to become one with Ameratsu.
He passed the huts and headed into a small building filled with his brothers of the Imperial Retainers. Some stretched, others sat against the wall, their eyes closed. Either concentrating on their duties or sleeping. It was hard to say for some of them. Each held their wakizashi, but the main weapons were all hung by the door. No threats.
"Welcome Masaheide-sama," Aochi Sadayu said without looking up from the game of Sugoroku. "See Yoshimoto?" he said to his opponent "I told you he'd be here."
"Told me?" Yoshimoto almost dropped his dice. "You were the one that kept saying how he was late!"
"Well I was worried," Sadayu's hand dropped to the board, when he moved it back Masaheide was certain he had shifted one of the pieces. "After what happened with Magoichi."
"Hush," Yoshimoto said, giving Masaheide a worried glance. "We take up positions at the third whistle, we still have a time if you want to help me best Sadayu."
"Hah," Sadayu said, "Even with help you wouldn't stand a chance."
"Thank you, but I will just watch." Masaheide said and sat at an open bench. He pretended to watch the game, but mostly let his mind wander. Sadayu and Yoshimoto kept glancing back at him, judging him. Wondering why he is still alive. It was no mistake Sadayu compared him to Magoichi. The last first sword of the Imperial Retainers had the courage to commit seppuku the day after the barbarian killed the last emperor. If his shame was too much to bear, then how could Masaheide still breathe? Was not his failure even greater? Magoichi had been off duty that night. Masaheide had crossed swords with the barbarian and still failed.
But he was too weak to do what needed to be done. Just as he was too weak to stop the barbarian. He had never thought of himself as too weak before. And yet here he sat, staring at men who once considered him their brother. What could they possibly think of him now?
"Masaheide-sama?" Sadayu waved his hand before his eyes.
Masaheide blinked, "What?"
"The second whistle blew, didn't you hear? If you need, we can go out alone. Yukihide is out there, we can make his lazy ass stay two shifts."
"No, I am fine. I am sorry, I lost myself in thought. But I am ready." Masaheide took his place in line, Yoshimoto and Sadayu gave him a worried glances as the third whistle blew. The guards walked out along the palace gardens. They split off with each of the guards moving toward one of the men that had watched over the first part of the ceremony.
Masaheide gave a quick greeting to the guard he replaced before he took his position and turned to watch the two huts within the gardens. The shinobi guard looked across the garden, the other guards stood stone-faced as they watched the huts where the new emperor and empress performed their rites. In the other hut musicians played traditional music preserved from the Sunken Lands.
The hut, the ceremony, the music all of it preserved through centuries. Masaheide knew the stories well, he adored them as a child. He knew by heart the bravery and brilliance of the Phoenix Emperor who saved their civilization from the Sundering. How they fought wars through Korea and China and even the vast lands of the horse archers. Their people survived because of their steadfast adherence to their traditions. Their desire to preserve their culture no matter who opposed them. All because of a family of emperors that ruled with philosophy and strength. He had wished to serve their glory for his entire life.
And he had allowed one of those emperors to die. The greatest of the Ida Clan bested by a foul-smelling barbarian in the dark.
The music stopped and the priests rolled cleaned mats across the garden grounds. The new emperor emerged from the hut, his wife a step behind him. The strolled across the mats, making certain that they touched nothing unclean. The emperor's eyes met his and the man's face twisted into a snarl.
Masaheide blinked, and the emperor walked past him. They led through the palace into the great hall and the meal already prepared for each of them.
He put his back to the wall in his designated position as the callers announced the various daimyo and samurai that came to give praise to the emperor. Long strings of names and their list of holdings and notable victories for every single lord. It at least gave Masaheide enough time to watch them all. Any one of these lords may be a hidden viper. Either planning for their own betterment, or perhaps even having a hand in the death of the emperor.
First came the Ashikaga, the newly appointed Shogun standing tall beside his wife, already showing her pregnancy. They put on serious expressions as they reached the emperor and made a great display of deference in the bows, before taking their position beside the Imperial family.
The Kagawa came next, their lord wrapped in the finest clothing in the empire. His vast wealth on display with the gold on each of his fingers and the gems draped around his neck. The Hayashi were called, led by the fat and jolly Toshimo, his belly practically touched the floor as he bowed before Naotaka, his beautiful daughter a step behind him. She seemed as delicate as a flower next to her behemoth of a father.
The Rokkaku Clan sent the eldest son, instead of the daimyo himself. Perhaps because the rumors were true and the old daimyo was finally dying. Lady Imagawa Sen made her entrance as imperial as the actual empress.
Then came the Takeda, and all the thoughts of what each of these lords were doing or planning left his mind. When listing his battles and victories the announcers needed to take several breaths. Daimyo Hasiburo strode in wearing armor. Who allowed that? Did every guard from the main gate to the hall become blind? Or were they all too afraid to speak against the great Takeda Hasiburo?
But behind him came his daughter, and Masaheide could no longer stay angry. She also wore the ornamented armor. But it wasn't her fault, her father must make have demanded it. Masaheide watched her, stride up to the emperor. The courage and discipline of a warrior, but with the beauty and grace not even the finest courtesan could match.
No. He needed to calm himself. He could not spend the entire meal watching Takeda Chiyome, no matter how much he wished. Concentrate on the other nobles, on his job. There was no point thinking about the daughter of the greatest daimyo of the age. She was far, far above him.
And yet, as the other families were called he kept glancing toward her. Until all the lords and ladies had their seat. The gong sounded and the entire hall bowed in unison, before the emperor signaled they could eat.
Well at least the guests could. Masaheide and the rest of the guard stayed put and watched as the lords gorged themselves on another banquet.
After some time the fat lord Toshimo stood up from his table, a servant carrying a platter behind him. He walked straight to Sabayu standing behind the emperor. They whispered something together while the emperor went into a deep discussion with his newly appointed shogun Ashikaga Raiko. What was the fat daimyo trying to do? He shouldn't be allowed behind the emperor. Even if it was only Toshimo.
"More sake," the emperor demanded. Masaheide frowned, this was the third time the emperor had called for more to drink. This is not the way of things. The last emperor enjoyed his drink as much as any other, but he never drank to excess when hosting important guests. Unless it was Toshimo of course, but that man hardly counted as a guest.
Toshimo's deep laughter filled the room as he left Sabayu and moved to the next guard. At least he no longer stood directly behind the emperor. Not one of the guard's stopped him. Magoichi would never have allowed this. Masaheide returned his focus to the guests and entrances. The Daimyo Takeda Hasiburo had his hand on his tanto, flaunted his readiness to start a battle within the very heart of the empire.
His lands rested on the westernmost point of the empire, where he fought his endless war against the Franks. That must change a man. Currently he and his daughter, Chiyome engaged in some furious argument with the Daimyo Kagawa sitting at the table across form him, of what Masaheide could not hear. But whatever it was Chiyome spoke passionately about it.
Masaheide had to suppress a smile, whatever the family's faults he had to admit that he enjoyed when they visited. It gave him a chance to see Chiyome. Never had he seen a woman with such passion.
"Hard at work, my friend?" Toshimo stepped up to him.
"Toshimo-domo," Masaheide said.
"I had hoped to see you, while I was here."
"I'm sorry my lord but I am on duty."
"Of course, but," his eyes twinkled with delight. "so was everyone else I spoke to." He clapped Masaheide on the shoulder and slipped something into his hand. "I have heard stories of you facing down the barbarian assassin. Of the bravery you showed in bringing vengeance to those that killed my dear friend. You understand how horrid these Danes are. Violent and vile, with low cunning and an unfathomable rage. I just want you to know, those of us who have faced these barbarians before know you did everything you could." Toshimo gave him a smile before passing to the next guard.
Masaheide checked his hand. A small sweetened rice ball lay in his palm. It would not do for an imperial retainer to eat while on duty. He hoped no one saw how his hand clutched the food at his side. He would thank the daimyo next time they spoke but he could not eat until after he was dismissed.
Masaheide looked back to Toshimo and saw him joke with another guard. He laughed as he started to walk away. Yoshimoto smiled as the daimyo left him, looked to both sides then popped something small into his mouth. At the front of the hall Sadayu chewed and swallowed something.
He turned away from his fellow guards. They all might have forgotten their discipline, but he would not. His eyes roamed over the guests. Shogun Raiko was in a heated discussion with Prince Shijo. Most others joked or watched the gymnastics display as the strongman lifted an urn with three girls over his head. Hasiburo and his beautiful daughter seemed to be bickering between themselves now.
Lord Toshimo finished his trip around the guards and returned to speak to the emperor before sitting down and continued to eat. The delicious food the scent of which filled the room.
Masaheide's stomach growled. He looked to each of the entrances before he made his eyes went through the same pattern from the front to the sides making certain to focus on the figures that seemed the most likely to make some mess of the event. It was unfortunate that this list included the emperor himself as Naotaka shouted for more sake despite his wife's protestations.
Why is he the only one taking the ceremony as seriously? The emperor could not control his lust for drink, every other guard had eaten Toshimo's gift. Would it hurt anything for him to eat it?
Masaheide plopped the rice ball into his mouth. The taste overwhelmed him. The finest rice cultivated by a healthy farmer blessed by the gods. The same rice the emperor and empress had eaten during the ceremony earlier that day. Not blessed by priests of course, but still just having it enter his mouth made him feel connectedness to Amatarasu and the imperial family.
"No," Emperor Naotaka stood up as his wife held onto his sleeve. "Let me go I'm the emperor I don't need you- I don't need you to tell me what to do."
Empress Shoshi let go, her cheeks flushed a red bright enough to be seen through her makeup. The emperor staggered down from his position, his drink still in his hand. The shinobi shifted his weight as the emperor passed the gymnasts and performers, he did not glance at his daimyo and other guests.
He headed straight toward Masaheide.
"What are you doing here?" he demanded. The guests stopped eating.
Masaheide dropped to his knee, the wound in his side blazed. "My Heika, I am here to protect you."
"You? As you did my father? I thought you committed seppuku!"
"I," Masaheide finished chewing and swallowed the rice ball.
"Are you eating?"
"No. I- I was, I am sorry my Heika."
"Sorry?" the emperor threw his hands to the side, sake dripped down his glass and over his fingers. "What kind of retainer are you? Answer me: who committed seppuku then?"
"The first sword, Kobo Magoichi and the guards posted at the door that night, Ise Mototaki and Hotta Tomoaki" Masaheide's heart pounded in his chest. That was it, his emperor judged him a failure. After his duty tonight was finished, no more excuses or cowardice. He would commit seppuku and restore what little honor he had left.
Masaheide looked around the hall, every conversation had stopped. Toshimo held a piece of beef frozen halfway to his lips. Chiyome looked at him, her argument with her father forgotten. Masaheide wished to defend himself, but one does not contradict an emperor.
"My father trusted you," Naotaka continued. "And you failed him. I would think- I would think that you-you-you would learn! But no, you can't even take this seriously. Why are you still alive?"
"I do not know what you wish me to say."
"I don't want you to say any-anything. I want you to fulfill your oaths! What did you say when my father let you join his guard?"
"I promised him my life, that I would trade my body for his without hesitation, without regret."
"And yet my father is dead and you're still- you're still here! You don't even have the decen-decency to wash away your dishonor."
That was it then, after all those around him dancing around the subject. Thinking he should do it but never having the stomach to tell him. The emperor was right, he was drunk, but right. He should not have fallen to cowardice, and now all men worthy of respect judged him for his weakness.
"What would you have me do?"
"I want you to correct your mistake."
"Then I ask to be dismissed from your service, so I can rectify my mistake."
"Go," the emperor said as he shifted back and forth, his head bobbing as he opened his mouth to say more.
Masaheide bowed. The emperor turned back toward his subjects. "What are you doing? Eat, drink, celebrate."
Masaheide gave one final sweep of the hall. So many faces simply staring at him, judging him. The Imperial family he served for decades made no attempt to dispute the new emperor. Not that they could. Eijiro looked ready to burst from tears. Shijo and Okyo consoled the child, with both the twins giving him a long apologetic look not that it would do any good. Koji may have offered some argument, but he was gone. Worst of all, Chiyome looked at him, with nothing but pity.
He turned and headed to the doors. The guards stationed their opened them for him, giving him a respectful nod, as low as they dared. Masaheide walked to his room in silence. The servants gave him a wide berth. Masaheide, the twice shamed. Masaheide the failure. They all knew it. He'd waited too long.
If he had not been a coward that morning, then he'd still have his dignity now. He shut the door behind him and removed the armor of the imperial guard. He did not deserve to wear it. He would not die in it. He wrapped himself in a robe and took out paper and caligrapher's kit. He dipped his brush in the ink and held it over the page to write his death poem.
But no words came. What could he possibly say to sum up his life? What final thoughts did he have for the world?
"Masaheide-sama!" a voice came from the door. "Masaheide are you in there! Please let me in!"
He put his brush down, he knew that voice. Masaheide took a moment to make himself presentable and opened the door.
"Thank the gods you're well!" Toshimo rushed in clutching a scroll, before realizing himself and bowed low. Too low for a daimyo to give a guard. "I'm sorry, I didn't think when I gave you- That beast. Terrible, what he did to you! Terrible!"
"Toshimo-domo, I do not know of whom you speak. I am certain you cannot be discussing our beloved emperor."
Toshimo seemed to take the hint, his eyes narrowed and he shut the door. "Now we can speak. Of course, I mean the emperor. I never liked him, even as a child! His own father didn't like him. You must have known; you must have seen it."
"Toshimo-domo, he is our emperor. You cannot speak in such a way. The emperor was right to bring up my disgrace, to push me to action I already should have taken."
"No, you should not! The only person who stained their honor tonight was our new emperor. Yours remains as untarnished as the day I met you."
"I thank you for your kindness, but that is not true. I let the emperor's killer go."
"Tell me, where you the only guard on duty that night?"
"No."
"Yet you are to shoulder the blame? You gave chase! You worked harder to avenge my friend than any other."
"I lost to a barbarian."
"A 'barbarian' is it? Barbarians that have held off every assault on their lands we have made in the last century. Barbarians that have raided my lands for my entire life and have always slipped away when I thought I had them cornered. You know they are more dangerous than anyone at this court believe."
"I am still given an order from my emperor. I must do as commanded."
"What if he isn't your true emperor?"
Masaheide stopped. What could the daimyo possibly mean by that? How could Naotaka not be the emperor? "I do not understand."
"I know in his last years my dear friend worried greatly over his successor. We argued over who it would be. We got so heated in our discussion that- well- we said some things," Toshimo looked to the ground. "Some things I will never be able to take back."
"That was why you fled that night?"
"I did not speak to him for over a year after that. But eventually we continued messaging each other, until he gave me this." Toshimo took the scroll and opened it, placing it over the parchment set aside for death poem. "This is the last message of our true emperor."
Daimyo Hayashi Toshimo, Lord of the Hayashi, Ruler of the Saigo no Shiro, Victor of Uji-gawa and Wadoshu, and my most loyal servant
My friend I hope this letter finds you well, you haven't gotten fatter have you? You do not need to answer, I know you have. Your last letter found me well, your apology has been accepted a thousand times over. I find I am in need of your council now more than ever.
I discovered my eldest drunk and ignoring his duty. As always a disappointment, this has been the end of my grace and forgiveness. I will not put a drunk on my throne, and let it slip back into the hands of the shoguns as they languish in luxury. But I find I am left with three sons with which to pass the reins of my empire. My youngest, I am certain you will agree, is unfit. But I am still left with the decision between my sons Koji and Shijo, just as you suggested.
Had you asked me in our youth I would have chosen Koji without hesitation. Intelligent in statecraft and masterful in the ways of war. Imagine him at our sides when we fought horse lords in our youth. But it has been decades since I donned my armor and sat my warhorse. These days I can see the charms of Shijo, his grace and conciliatory demeanor will keep the daimyo satisfied and maintain a respect for his position that I find Koji lacking.
I await your response, your response my dear friend.
Your Heika and truest friend Fusada
"The next message I received from the capital was that he had been slaughtered in his bed."
Masaheide rolled up the scroll and handed it back to Toshimo. "I do not know what to say, Toshimo-domo."
"Then listen. The barbarian moved through the secret passages in the Imperial Winter Palace. Ways even I knew nothing about. It had to be someone who knew the palace like their own home."
"Like their own home." After the assassination he had questioned every servant, every guard, every merchant who had stepped foot on the premises. But never the imperial family itself.
"I see you're coming to the same notion I had. It had to be either someone in the guard, the staff, or the imperial family itself. You are the only one I trust with these suspicions."
"The guard is on your list, why am I above suspicion."
"You hide it well, but before I was a fat lordling I was a warrior. I can tell when a man is moving in such a way to avoid disturbing a wound. You battled the assassin, you nearly died in defense of your emperor. You are the most dutiful of all the guard, and after the way Naotaka treated you. I- may I sit down?"
"Of course," Masaheide led him to his desk. The fat man looked as though he was about to burst into tears.
"I worry- I fear that my emperor told someone his plan to replace Naotaka. Maybe he told it to him himself to warn him. But what if Naotaka came up with a plan to make certain he became emperor? What if he asked his dear friend Raiko to bring him a barbarian from the border. And in one swoop create an enemy to unite all of Shin Nihon against while preserving his position as emperor."
"I- Toshimo you understand this is treason."
"I know. I feel sick just speaking my suspicions out loud. But this is why I need you. If we can find proof, then we can know for certain. And if we find nothing, then I was a foolish fat man. I will be glad to give my life up and let my own son take up the mantle of daimyo."
"What do you need?"
"You know the guard's position and you are a shinobi of great renown. Can you search Naotaka's room to find the proof."
"Impossible," Masaheide said. "I would need to cut down my brothers just to enter it. And the passages have all been closed."
Toshimo sighed, "If only, I just can't think of another way." The man's shoulders shook as he put his face in his meaty hands. "I need to know what happened to my friend. If Naotaka and Ashikaga did this! I- I will." His words drowned in his tears.
"That way may be impossible, but there is another way."
Toshimo wiped away his tears as he looked to Masaheide, "What do you mean?"
"Shogun Raiko, his rooms will not be so well protected. I can search him."
It did not take Masahide long to prepare, he knew the palace as well as those that built it. Know yourself and know your surroundings, as Master Kageie said. Back when Masaheide dreamed of living the life of duty and adventure like the warriors and shinobi in the stories. Masaheide had spent many years learning how to ford rivers, scout through forest and darkness. To know just by looking the safe paths.
Navigating one pleasure palace was nothing.
Masahide dressed as one of the cleaning staff in a plain brown smock, his tools hidden beneath. He travelled light only his tanto and a blowdart tipped with a diluted poison. He cleaned the hall outside the shogun's room, waiting for Raiko to leave. He did not need to wait long. Raiko and his wife, Mieko, left arm in arm. Mieko stifled a laugh while Raiko whispered jokes in her ear.
They looked a loving, friendly couple. But smiles can hide dark desires. That was a lesson Master Kageie never gave, but the hundred lords and ladies of court taught him years ago. Masahide waited, watching the couple out of the corner of his eye until they turned out of his sight. Masahide picked up his cleaning equipment and entered the room. Two samurai waited within. Masahide lowered his head.
"Servants here," an unfortunately familiar voice said. Masahide peaked out from under his servant's hat. Yoshimoto, his former brother-in-arms and imperial retainer.
Masahide bowed making certain they couldn't see his face, "If you prefer I will come back later." He made his voice higher pitched.
"Nonsense, we will get out of your… Masahide?"
Masahide sighed and took off his hat.
"What are you doing?" the other guard, one of the Shogun's retainers by the look of him said. "I thought this one was disgraced and ordered to die."
"Be silent," Yoshimoto said to the Ashikaga retainer. "My brother, what is going on?"
"Yoshimoto-sama, we have served together for many years. Please leave me to my work and speak of this to no one."
Yoshimoto drew his sword. "You are spying upon the shogun, Masahide. The emperor has told us to guard him as though he were of royal blood. I cannot simply let you sneak into his room."
"Please, Yoshimoto-sama, I have reason to believe he may be responsible for our emperor's death."
"Nonsense," the other samurai said. "I will not stand here and let you dishonor the name of the shogun. Speaking in such a way means your head, shinobi."
"Masahide, please, just leave. I do not want to harm you."
Masaheide pulled his hand into the baggy sleeves. "I can't do that."
"Then we kill him!" the other samurai shouted and ran forward and slashed at Masahide's head.
The shinobi ducked low and stepped aside. The katana struck the top of the room and stuck in the wood. The samurai looked up. Masahide pulled the tanto from his shirt and thrust it into the man's face. Blood welled around his knife. The samurai collapsed, pulling the katana from the ceiling as he fell.
Masahide picked up the sword and pointed it toward Yoshimoto.
"You killed him."
"He attacked, I had no choice."
"Neither do I, I'm sorry Masahide. I always respected you." Yoshimoto drew his sword into a high stance. He lunged, his sword darting toward Masaheide's shoulder. The shinobi caught the blow in his guard and lunged forward, only for Yoshimoto to push the blow aside.
The two broke apart and took a breath. Yoshimoto took a deep breath and stepped closer, his blade moving in a tight circle. Masahide struck toward the blade, only for Yoshimoto to dip the blade low beneath Masahide's attack and thrust toward Masahide's face.
The shinobi stepped back and waved his katana wildly, barely knocking the attack away from him at the last moment.
Yoshimoto struck again, slashing toward Masahide's stomach. Masahide parried the blade and tried to step closer for his weapon to strike Yoshimoto's chest. Only Yoshimoto stepped forward himself his elbow high. Masahide ran into the enemy's arm and knocked himself back.
Yoshimoto twisted his sword and grabbed Masahide's blade with one hand, wrenching the weapon from Masahide's grip.
Masahide fell back and landed on his ass. He scrambled away as Yoshimoto threw the spare blade behind him.
"Yoshimoto, wait!" Masahide raised one hand while the other went into his clothes.
"Why?" he brandished his blade. "I have bested you. Your life is forfeit." He stepped forward. "At least die with some dignity."
Got it! Masahide grabbed the blowgun from his shirt and pulled it to his lips. The darts struck Yoshimoto in the chest. The samurai looked down.
"You… cowardly bastard." Yoshimoto lunged at Masahide, only for his foot to stumble as he fell to his knees. His sword dropped away from him.
"I am so sorry, Yoshimoto-sama. We were brothers. I did not want this."
"Die in disgrace." Yoshimoto clutched at the darts in his chest, as the foam started to drip from his mouth. "You are… no brother of mine." He managed to spit out between the burst of yellow bile and pus and spewed from his mouth. His body twitched as the last of his stomach burned away, and he finally lay still.
Masahide panted as he tucked the blowgun back into his shirt. He kneeled before the corpse and bowed his head.
"You were honorable and noble in life, Yoshimoto-sama. You will be remembered with austerity." Masahide grabbed his cleaning tools and wiped up the pus and blood around Yoshimoto's mouth. Two bodies, he could work with this. He dragged the corpses into the center of the room, where the katana struck the ceiling and most of the other samurai's blood spilled on the floor.
Yoshimoto's face looked purple and bloated, obviously poisoned. That wouldn't do. He took the other samurai's sword and cleaved into Yoshimoto's skull, splitting his face in half, the head only held together by the skin around his throat. Then he placed the sword in the other samurai's hands.
He stepped back to look at his handiwork. It would work, likely Raiko will want it cleaned up for his wife before anyone who knows better will get a good look. And no one will check the body for poisons. Masahide bowed once more to the two dead men, then ran to the various desks, and rifled through their contents. Papers, mostly pointless government decrees. Some poems that seemed to be written by Raiko's own hand.
He shut the drawer and opened another. A leaf of parchment with a broken seal lay open.
It is done, the barbarian was successful.
Masahide picked up the parchment and looked for any further details. He couldn't find anything, no name, no sign of a noble house. He placed the note back and closed the drawer. Masahide picked up his equipment and left the room, being certain to avoid stepping in the blood.
As he walked away he found a room and hid so he could change into the robes of a townsman. As he changed, a scream shook the palace. Someone found them then. Masahide dumped his cloths and left the room. He stepped to the side and cowered along with other servants and visitors as the retainers and guards ran past.
From the commotion it was no difficult thing to slip past the main gate and wait for Toshimo.