12th Day of Flocktime, 565 CY
The Brass Dragon Inn, Furyondy
Tojo was no longer crying.
His face wiped clean of tears, the samurai spoke calmly, his voice strong and confidant.
He related, seemingly without emotion, how he had been summoned to appear before his daimyo, Yanigasawa Yashimoto. Tojo had sat before his lord then, just as he sat before his friends now. He had related his experience with the armor of Yanigasawa Tsugo, holding back nothing. The daimyo, his advisors, and the other samurai of the Yanigasawa clan had silently regarded the young warrior as he spoke, just as Aslan and his friends were doing now, five years later. The whole aspect seemed much more business-like than before, and the paladin could see in the faces of his companions a spark of hopefulness. They harbored the idea that by being able to deal with Tojo without excess emotion on anyone's part getting in the way, this matter could be brought to a successful conclusion.
Aslan knew better.
He knew that Tojo had been able to compose himself again only because he had decided to die.
In less than twelve hours, Aslan was literally going to have to decapitate one of his dearest friends, and as this point he could think of absolutely no way out of it.
The paladin clenched his fists and silently prayed to the All-Father again as he listened to Tojo. The samurai's head was bowed now, as he recounted his offer to commit seppuku for his transgressions. An offer he was certain would be accepted.
It had not been.
"My daimyo greatry shamed," Tojo stated, slowly raising his head to eye his friends again. "He know news of what I have done wirr reach shogunate. He say my death not enough to regain honor. He say that since I seek greatness so much, that I must go forth and find it myserf."
Tojo raised his right arm, and slowly undid the hook that kept the dastana closed. With a look of distaste on his face that he could not or would not conceal, the samurai slowly opened the hinge on the metal cylinder and removed it. The others stared as much at the ghastly white section of Tojo's arm as they did at the golden-colored bracer.
By the High One, Cygnus thought. He sleeps in those things. He's not allowed to take them off!
His face grim, Yanigasawa Tojo displayed the dastana to his audience, pointing at the engraved calligraphy on the metal surface.
"These bracers taken from body of wu jen srain by Yanigasawa cran," the samurai explained, his voice tight. "My daimyo have them engraved with symbers of shame. He says that I must wear them untir I regain honor. He say I can wear no armor, not even padded armor of peasant, untir then."
Caroline fidgeted nervously. She thought she was going to explode from the tension. That means there IS a way! What is it, Tojo? How can you regain your honor? Why won't you tell us?
Those purple orbs flickered over to her, and Lady Bigfellow flushed with embarrassment. Once again, her face had given her away.
Tojo closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. He exhaled so slowly, it almost seemed to the others as if he had stopped breathing entirely. He seemed reluctant to ever open his eyes again. But he did.
"There onry two ways to regain my rost honor," Tojo said, now replacing the dastana on his arm. "I must either defeat another samurai in honoraber combat, or I must find Pears of Hamakahara."
He paused.
The pause continued.
The rest of the party began to steal furtive glances at each other.
Is that it? Elrohir wondered. Is he done? The ranger looked back at Tojo, who was now merely staring ahead into space, the muscles of his face as rigid as steel.
As usual, when matters of decorum were in question, it was a Bigfellow who decided to just plunge on ahead.
"Honto ni arigato gozaimas, Tojo-sama."
Yanigasawa Tojo slowly turned his head to regard Caroline, who was just raising her head from her seated bow. The samurai did not directly respond to her expression of thanks for his story, but he seemed to sag just a little, his expression taking on a resigned air.
He gave a brief nod.
A zephyr of repressed sighs swept through the room as the rest of the party allowed their own bodies to relax from the uncomfortable positions they had put themselves into.
Elrohir spoke first. "All right, let's see what we've got to work with here. Tojo, you said you can regain your honor by defeating another samurai." The ranger gestured at the samurai's hated dastana. "From what I've seen, those bracers give you magical protection equivalent to having armor, just as Cygnus' and Zantac's do."
Tojo merely gazed at him.
Try as he might, Elrohir could keep the puzzlement out of neither his voice nor his expression. "I don't understand, then. You're one of the best fighters I've even seen, Tojo. Why not just challenge another samurai to a duel? Surely, there must be those in Nippon that would be willing to do so, either because they hate you or because they wish to help you. How about one of the Ikeda family? How about-"
He stopped. Tojo was shaking his head, that sad, thin-lipped smile on his face again.
"You not understand, Errohir-san."
Elrohir tensed all the way back up again. He only unclenched his fists after great difficulty and a stern glance from his wife. "Apparently not," he muttered.
For what it was worth, Tojo too seemed to be making an effort to avoid patronizing his friend. The samurai held up both arms, prominently displaying the dastana again.
"Awe samurai wear armor, Errohir-san. Even those who serve evir rords. Dastana show that I am branded with shame. Just as is dishonoraber to share my shame with you, so is dishonoraber for any samurai to fight me in singer combat. It not matter who win or roose."
And suddenly, something clicked for Aslan.
"Icar!"
Tojo looked up and the paladin and gave a sad nod of acknowledgement.
"Don't you see?" Aslan asked, turning to his companions. "That was why Tojo was so keen to fight Icar alone!"
"Icar was blind, " Argo mused thoughtfully. "It must have seemed like a golden opportunity for you, Tojo."
"But then he cut you," continued Talass, "and realized you wore no armor." The cleric's voice grew softer as she addressed the samurai directly. "Is that right, Tojo?"
With some difficulty, Tojo nodded, although his violet eyes were now fixed firmly on the floor. "Yes. I not knew if Icar understood true meaning, but he know something wrong then. He ask me why I not wear oroyoi, and I cannot answer. My punishment very rare in Nippon, but it has been used sometimes- against," his voice choked up again, "disroyar samurai." He swallowed hard and continued, shrugging slightly. "Not know if simirar punishment exist in Kara-Tur, but very possiber. In any case, my combat can no ronger be considered honoraber duer. Once again, I act fawsry."
"Nesco," Zantac suddenly murmured.
"What?" Aslan asked, looking over sharply at the Willip wizard.
Zantac merely gave the paladin a sour smile. "Our poor Lady Cynewine. She had no idea what she was popping the cork off of when she asked Tojo about his bracers." The mage bit his lip. "I wish she was here now. She deserves to know what we've learned."
Aslan seemed about to say something, but instead merely nodded in agreement.
Tojo had trailed back off into silence.
"Fine," Cygnus cut in, unable to endure what he considered the beginning of yet another uncomfortable moment. As far as he was considered, they were all drowning in them as it was.
"Okay, then. Defeating another samurai is out, and I'm sure your daimyo was well aware of that from the start," the wizard went on. "That leaves us with the other possibility. The Pears of Hamakahara. What are they? Some kind of sacred fruit?"
Tojo stared at the tall mage for a moment, and then suddenly exploded.
"Baka! Not Pears, you foor! Pears!"
Not surprisingly, everyone looked lost. Tojo whirled around.
"Shinju!" he shouted at Caroline. "Shinju! Shinju!"
"Shinju?" she repeated back at him in a panic. Caroline didn't know the word.
"Hakchi!" Tojo yelled, followed by still more Nipponese words Caroline didn't recognize.
The context was pretty clear to everyone, though. Yanigasawa Tojo was cursing them out for their inability to understand him.
This seemed to go on for quite a while. Caroline was about to try and break in again when she felt her husband's hand on her shoulder.
"Let him go, love," Bigfellow said softly. "He's needed to do this for a rong time."
Caroline raised her eyebrows at Argo's pronunciation, but then nodded as comprehension swept over her.
She tried to imagine what it would be like to live in Nippon, with only the barest understanding of the language. Responses to everything she said ranging from bewilderment to derision to jokes.
Eventually, Tojo seemed to wind down. Now he pantomimed holding something in his left hand while stabbing or poking at it with his right.
"Umm," ventured Zantac. "Animal, vegetable or mineral?"
Tojo rolled his eyes, uttered a guttural growl of frustration and then tried again, now miming placing something around his neck.
"Pearls!" shouted out Cygnus. "It's a string of pearls!"
Tojo nodded wearily. "Gaijin," the samurai muttered quietly to himself, before giving the others the explanation they were waiting for. "Mirennia ago, before rise of Mori Tenno- first human Emperor, Nippon rured by Earth Spirit Emperors. They are great kami- spirits- of naturar word."
The samurai paused, and then looked over at an attentive Talass.
"Gods of Nippon not as your gods. They father kami, but since Reign of Earth Spirit Emperors, no ronger wark the rand. Shamans pay tribute to kami. Awe naturar things have kami, great or smarr. Streams, rice, rivers, frowers, rocks, trees, mountains, even morning mist- awe part of Spirit Word."
Talass looked thoughtful but said nothing.
"Goddess Kishijoten, She of Great Fortune, bestow gift upon Earth Spirit Emperor Hamakahara. String of pears. They symber of Her favor."
"A relic?" asked Aslan.
Tojo's brow furrowed as he addressed the paladin. "Difficurt to say in your tongue, Asran-san. Pears contain great and terriber power, yes, but varued more for their meaning, than for themserves." The samurai's face grew even grimmer, if that were possiber.
"Hamakahara abuse power, though. He become so used to good fortune that even thought of bad ruck, no matter how small, become intoraber to him. Brave human named Sabero manage to trick Hamakahara- take neckrace of pears away from him. Sabero know he have to free Nippon for Pears to be safe from powerful kami rike Hamakahara, so he reave his rand, his famiry, everything… never to see them again."
"Just like a certain samurai we all know," said Argo quietly.
Tojo scowled. Apparently, he found the comparison offensive, but Bigfellow raised a hand.
"I'm only making an observation, Tojo-sama. Would not the appropriateness of such a tale appeal to your daimyo? Hamakahara is no longer around, I assume. Maybe your lord just wanted you to complete the circle, and bring the Pearls back home, where they belong."
The samurai seemed to consider, and then nodded. "Perhaps so, Argo-san. Perhaps so. Yet there great difference. Sabero rauded as hero for his sacrifice. I am sent forth in shame. My daimyo know there no chance for me to find Pears."
"Why not, Tojo?" It had been the question Talass had been itching to ask.
Tojo favored the cleric with a bitter smile. "You not think many have tried, Tarass-san? Others have searched since beginning of first Cyker. Great shugenja, mighty samurai, enrightened budoka- awe have tried; awe have fayered. Even powerfur divination do not say where pears rie, onry that they are in gaijin rands, far away from home."
The samurai's smile slowly grew into Tojo's uncannily accurate duplication of Argo's pained grin. He gazed at all of his friends.
"You have haf day, tomodachi. You wirr find in that time what great heroes of Nippon cood not find in thousand years?"
Talass spread her hands apart, a rare look of pleading on her face. "But now that we know what we need to do, Tojo, couldn't you give us just a little more time?"
The samurai, however, shook his head, frowning.
"No, Tarass-san. I have waited too rong as is. I terr you my story because you ask- not because I wood beg for herp."
"Forgive me for asking, Tojo," said Aslan suddenly, changing the subject. "Didn't you tell me once that your life belongs to your daimyo, and that you couldn't commit seppuku without asking for his permission first?"
The bitter smile returned.
"You wood try to spare my rife through trickery of words, Asran-san?' He shook his head again. "That not rike you. To answer, I awready offer my rife to daimyo. He say I must attempt to regain honor first. If I die in batter during quest, that is honoraber, but you and Tarass-san; you wirr not ret me do so. You hear me, again and again."
"How long have you been hoping to die in battle, Tojo?" Elrohir asked, his voice unable to hide a quivering within it.
Tojo took another deep breath. "Ever since I reave Nippon, Errorhir-san." Despite himself, the samurai began to tremble again. "Rast sound I hear as I reave daimyo's mansion is sound of my mother screaming. She scream for her rost son. She know I awready dead."
Silence descended again, despite everyone's best efforts to think of something meaningful to say.
Eventually, Zantac spoke up again. "What if we made a promise not to heal you in battle?"
Now it was Talass' turn to shake her head. "I couldn't make such a promise, Zantac."
"Neither could I," added Aslan, sounding grim.
Tojo got to his feet.
"Then no more needs to be said," he stated, sounding relieved. "You know now nothing can be done. I sharr await sunset in my room, and then-"
"A question first, if I may, Tojo."
Tojo sighed before he could stop it, and then turned to face the party's paladin, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he did so.
"Yes, Asran-san?"
Aslan mirrored the samurai's posture. His light blue eyes blazed with a surprising hardness. His voice sounded just as it has when he had addressed Joseph Cynewine.
"Why did you join us?"
Tojo's eyes widened. The samurai's lips pursed in frustration, but he could not return the paladin's glare. Aslan continued, but it was clear that his questions were now being asked for the benefit of the other party members. Tojo's discomfort made it evident he already knew where Aslan was heading.
"We knew nothing about you when we first met you, Tojo-sama. Myself, Elrohir, Estel and the others were in a tough spot at the time, and you helped us out with no thought of reward whatsoever. There was nothing we could possibly have done to repay you, but you never made it an issue. Then, after our work in Celtia was done, you stayed with us. Naturally, we were grateful to have such a powerful and noble warrior at our side, but you told us almost nothing about yourself."
Tojo slowly raised his eyes to meet Aslan's gaze. Confusion crept into the paladin's voice, along with regret.
"You were obviously on your quest of redemption then, Tojo. Why did you come with us when we journeyed to Oerth? You must have known you'd never find the Pearls if you left Aarde. You must have known this very day would come if you abandoned the task that your daimyo had set you."
This time, the tear that ran down Tojo's face was completely unexpected. Even to him.
"Because I am weak, Asran-san," the samurai said in a hoarse whisper. "At first, when I reave Nippon, I search franticary for Pears. Shame of my actions burns within in me every moment of day; haunt my dreams at night. But as weeks go by... one after another... I find distraction in other things. I am in strange rand, where none know of bushido. I take it upon myserf to act as honorabry as possiber, to show gaijin true meaning of honor and royarty. Then, I find you," Tojo indicated the party with a sweep of his hand. "Not onry are you powerfer, brave and crever, but- you outsiders too, I sense. I feer- bond of companionship I not know since my day of shame."
Tojo again dropped his gaze to the floor. "Being with you, I can pretend I am stirr honoraber samurai."
He watched his tears fall, one at a time, upon the muddy wooden floor of the common room.
"You're the bravest man I've ever met, Tojo-sama," Caroline Bigfellow said, ignoring her own tears as she rose unsteadily to her feet, clinging to her husband as he also stood. She wiped her face on Argo's sleeve rather unceremoniously, then traded smiles with him before returning her gaze to Tojo. "Not counting Argo, of course," she chuckled, with her characteristic weak smile.
Tojo matched her expression. "You not been to Nippon, Carrorine-san. There, you find many samurai braver than I. Samurai who have not," and here Tojo choked up, "have not dishonored their rord."
"You know what I think, Tojo?" put in Talass, now joining the rest in standing up, as well. "I think that a warrior, lacking in any magical powers, hurling himself at a lich- an unholy abomination a thousand times more powerful than himself, is an example of bravery any samurai in Nippon would be hard-pressed to match."
The cleric turned away from Tojo and addressed her companions. "I've only seen one samurai that ever dared to take on a lich. How about the rest of you?"
The others turned back to Tojo and smiled.
The samurai kept his feeble smile going, along with a shrug.
"To be honest, Tarass-san- I not know what rich is. Not know how powerfur he was until after batter."
"You know it wouldn't have made any difference," Cygnus said reproachfully. "We know you're one of us."
Somehow, that statement seemed to strengthen Tojo. The samurai wiped his eyes clear on his sleeve and addressed the tall wizard directly.
"Then I ask you again, Cygnus-san. Awe of you. Tomodachi. Prease- ret me go. It is honoraber thing to do."
"We still have the afternoon, Tojo," Caroline said, the tears starting up again. "You said you'd give us until sunset. I promise you. We won't fail you. We will find a way!" The young woman looked around frantically to her husband, and to the others, searching for validation.
But it wasn't there.
Caroline choked off a sob and then ran out of the inn, the door slamming closed behind her.
Argo gave a silent nod to the others and then slowly headed towards the door. "I'll handle it," the big ranger said softly. When he reached the door, he turned around again to face the samurai.
"I tried to find you some of that rice wine you mentioned- sake, while we were in Chendl, Tojo." Bigfellow shrugged sadly. "I thought you might enjoy it. I'm sorry, I couldn't find it."
Tojo bowed slightly. "That awe right, Argo-san. Thank you for attempt."
Argo closed his eyes for a moment. They were moist when he opened them again.
"I'll see you at sunset, Tojo-sama."
He closed the door quietly after him as he left.
Tojo gazed at the remaining five, and then bowed deeply to them.
"I wirr see you awe at this time, as werr," the samurai said, now turning to go back up the stairs. "I wish to meditate untir then."
"Tojo?"
Having just gained the top landing, the samurai paused. "Yes, Errohir-san?"
The ranger held up a finger, as if he wanted to clarify a point. "You said that your daimyo had never let anyone try on Tsugo's armor."
Tojo nodded slowly. "This is so."
"What about before then?" Elrohir asked. "The Battle of Haka was over two hundred years ago, and you said Tsugo had retired shortly after that. From the time that the Rosuko family took over stewardship of the oroyoi, did anyone ever try to don the armor, or even touch it? Not counting those who were permitted to do so?"
Tojo frowned with the effort to remember.
"There was one," he admitted after some moments. It take prace perhaps fifty years after Batter of Haka. I not know much about it. It not spoken of officiarry, since it is source of shame to Yanigasawa famiry."
The samurai looked at Elrohir's rapt expression, sighed and continued. "There was samurai. Yanigasawa Wabazetsu. He strong and brave, but very brash. Not arways courteous as samurai shood be. Wabazetsu berieve he shood have chance to wear oroyoi of Tsugo-sama, but his daimyo say no." Tojo shrugged. "It is said that one night, he sneak into Rosuko home and don oroyoi. He caught just as I am, and brought before daimyo. Wabazetsu rucky. He offered chance for seppuku, and he take it."
Tojo's expression grew hard. His fists clenched. Elrohir knew that it was unthinkable for a samurai to criticize his daimyo, and he felt even sadder for his friend than he already did. The ranger needed to finish his line of inquiry, however.
"Was there anything else?"
The samurai cocked his head and stared down at the party leader. One eyebrow rose in curiousity, despite himself.
"Did Wabazetsu say anything to his daimyo about what happened when he touched the armor? Did he have a vision like yours? Did something else happen? Anything?"
Tojo thought for a moment, and then shook his head. "I not hear of any such thing, Errohir-san."
Talass was staring intently at her husband's face. Obviously Elrohir had some line of attack he was working on, but Tojo's response seemed to deflate him completely. Elrohir barely managed to keep his response loud enough for the samurai to hear. "Thank you, Tojo-sama."
The samurai hesitated for a moment, nodded briefly, and then was lost to sight.
Talass looked around the common room. Aslan was heading downstairs to tell the staff their temporary imprisonment was now over. Cygnus and Zantac were huddled at one of the tables, heads close together, talking quietly and rapidly.
Elrohir just stood there, seemingly staring at nothing.
Talass walked over to her husband and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Dearest?"
Elrohir turned to stare at his wife.
She nearly flinched from his gaze (something Talass almost never did). The ranger's deep blue eyes shot forth an anger and resentment that filled the common room like a hot, choking fog.
"We've endured so much, Talass," he seethed. "We deserve better than to be shoved around by Fate like this."
Without another word, Elrohir spun around and headed towards the main door.
"Elrohir? What is it?" Talass cried.
Cygnus and Zantac looked up from their conversation.
Elrohir seemed annoyed at this. "It's the final nail in the coffin, that's what it is, Talass. Tojo's dead. We have absolutely no chance at saving him. But you know what? It doesn't really matter anyway!"
She stared at him, aghast. "What-"
"He's better off dead, Talass. I think his entire clan already is."
The party leader showed no restraint about banging the door behind him when he went out.