It started off innocently enough. One of the generals—Kyourin couldn't remember his name—looking back and forth across the table, asked the question that, by their reactions, she could tell a few of them were thinking. "I'm sorry, but I'm a little confused. What exactly is our command structure?"
It was Mei who spoke. "I know it's a little confusing, what with Her Highness, myself, and a Forbidden Army general here, but it's really pretty simple. Her Highness is, of course, Commander-in-Chief. We've already deliberated on the topic, and we have decided that I will be advising her, and sharing some of her authority. I don't mean to diminish our Queen, but she admitted to me that she has little to no military experience. Your Highness?"
Touke nodded. "That's true."
"So, at least for the moment, I will likely be directing our forces." The looks of relief on the generals' faces were very clear. "Your lords have all ceded authority to me in the name of the Queen, so we may all work under one command."
"My Lord has told me nothing of this," one of the generals said hesitantly.
"General of the Right," said Mei after a moment of thought, "Sou Province." That was all the way on the other side of the kingdom.
"That's right," he said with a nod.
"Would you have a problem with following my commands? You can bring it back to your lord if you're conflicted."
The general and one to his right Kyourin thought was probably another from Sou exchanged a glance. "Are you the General Kokumei? The one who suppressed the Sekkon Rebellion?"
"Sekkon." Mei's eyes took on a faraway look. She didn't speak for a moment as a couple of the generals murmured at each other. The Sekkon Rebellion was an uprising against the Marquis of An Province, whose uji was Kon, some hundreds of years ago. The Forbidden Army of the Left, which Mei had at the time been General of, had been sent in to end the conflict. Something about the tactics used Kyourin didn't understand and didn't want to think about was remarkable, and had since become accepted procedure for dealing with insurrections the world over. She was sure it involved death, and blood, and all things horrible. "That takes me back. Yes, that was me."
The generals shared a look again. "No problem here."
"So what exactly is our plan?"
"We should start with the end. If we know where we're going, we can figure out how to get there."
"Well, of course, the goal is to sit Her Highness on the throne."
"Yes, of course that. But I was wondering how. Do we want to ascend the palace the traditional way, in a land battle? That will require much resources, time, and deaths. If we go along that route, we would have to plan provisions, strategies, acceptable loses…" Kyourin shuddered, goosebumps raising across her skin. Acceptable loses. In her opinion, there was no such thing as an acceptable loss. No one seemed to notice her gradually building discomfort, and they simply plunged on.
"I think it's pretty simple," Touke said in a weak, unconfident voice. "We fly in on the air cavalry and kill the Chousai and the others." Kyourin shuddered again. Now she was getting painful tingles, powerful enough to make her squirm in her chair. Hearing it from Touke's lips only made it worse.
There was a pause as the generals considered that. "Yes, that will probably put the least strain on our resources. It has weaknesses though."
"I have an idea," Mei said. Everyone hushed to turn to her. "We spread our forces into several groups, attack the central provinces with small units from all sides. In one of these battles, say against a provincial capital, we use a portion of our air cavalry. Hit and run tactics, staying just long enough to cause disorder before scattering. The intention being, of course, to draw out the Chousai's forces. He will split a portion of his air unit to deal with this nuisance. That is when we sweep in with everything we have on the palace."
No. Too many people would die. Far too many. She didn't like this. She had to stop this. But she couldn't. If they didn't go to war, Touke wouldn't sit on the throne. The Chousai wouldn't step aside. And if Touke didn't sit on the throne, wasn't able to perform the royal rituals, than the people would only suffer more. She didn't know what to do. Not that they would listen to a Kirin when it comes to war anyway. Her helplessness burned in her like the sun, and she started sweating.
"Perhaps," suggested a general, "we could attack different targets each time."
A different general said, "No, we must make it the same target each time, so the Chousai knows what to defend. Otherwise it's pointless."
"No, he's partially right. Pick a few different targets and hit them with small numbers, over and over. The Chousai will send his forces out to defend one of the targets or, if we're lucky, split them between all of them. Then we attack, and slaughter the Chousai and his cronies." Kyourin was starting to feel nauseous, gradually more so every second. She wasn't sure she'd be able to keep down her fruit.
"But won't using such small divisions put our people at risk?"
"As long as we can keep it within acceptable losses—"
Kyourin couldn't take it anymore. She got up and ran out of the room. She didn't care if she made a scene, she didn't care what the generals thought of her. She just had to get out of there. Leaving Touke was like ripping a piece out of her heart and soul, but she did it anyway. She ran out and just kept running, dodging around corners and into and out of buildings. She wasn't thinking of where she was going. She just wanted to get away from the talk of blood, the talk of war and death.
After a while she petered to a halt. She looked around herself. It seemed she was in an open patch between buildings. She gradually put together that this was seishin, or whatever the equivalent in a provincial palace was called. At the moment, she couldn't for the life of her remember if they used the same word for it or not. She supposed it didn't matter.
She was about to flop over into the grass, lightly spotted with flowers, when she stopped. Her skin was still crawling with disgust and fear from the talk of blood. Well, if it was going to do that, then she just wouldn't wear this skin. She glanced quick to see there was nobody around, then ripped her clothes off and shifted. Letting out a long exhale of relief, she folded her legs under herself and sat there in the grass.
She didn't know how long she sat there, staring off into space. Her thoughts were dark, all blood and death, tempered by a feeling of helplessness, like she were being torn apart in all directions and couldn't do a thing to stop it. She was pretty sure she had been left alone for a long time. But it couldn't last forever. "Aku Taiho," came the mildly surprised voice.
Kyourin let out a little huff for a response.
There was a short silence. "May I?"
She knew what Mei was asking. "Go ahead." She turned her head. A few moments later, Mei's clothes were hitting the ground next to Kyourin's. Soon she was looking at a leopard. About the size of a large man, with the coloring and spots matching Mei's human hair in shades, intelligent green eyes in her feline face. She stretched for a moment, pawing at the ground. Then she, apparently at random, ran in a tight circle around Kyourin faster than she could turn her head to watch, tearing up the grass with her claws. In the middle of her circle, directly in front of Kyourin, she leapt into the air, also apparently at random, coming down back into a run.
Kyourin knew she was letting loose, relieving the pressure that had built from being in human form for a while. Mostly during their talks on Mei's shouzan, during which they had found an isolated place to shift, Mei had done a fair amount of explaining what being a hanjuu was to her. She said that the leopard was her natural state. She always felt more comfortable that way. She even slept as a leopard, which must be interesting for her servants. Sometimes, she had said to Kyourin's surprise, she performed Councils in that form. Apparently her subordinates had gradually grown used to it. Being in human form, to her, always felt like wearing heavy, wet, hot clothes that she would only be happy to be rid of. The longer she stayed human the worse she felt, and it was always a great relief to shed her human disguise. So this performance was no surprise.
Eventually she tired of that. Soon Kyourin felt a soft pressure against her side she knew was Mei leaning there. For some reason, making physical contact as beasts never bothered them as it would as women. "You know," Kyourin said, "for your age, you sure act like a kitten much of the time."
Kyourin knew without seeing that Mei was likely wearing a toothy grin. "Never too old to play around." A short silence passed before Mei broke Kyourin's brooding silence. "I'm sorry for exposing you to that. I shouldn't have forced you to come."
"You didn't force me to come. I wanted to be of some help to Touke. By the way, is she okay? Did you just leave her there?"
"I broke the meeting up for the generals to brainstorm minor details on their own," Mei said in a smooth, uncaring tone. "I had one of them take Touke aside to start her education. I'm starting her on tactics and the sword for the moment, just so she can get through the next few months."
"She has a hinman."
Mei sounded a little annoyed. "Hinman can't do it all for you. And if you relied completely on a hinman, well, then your accomplishments wouldn't be your own at all, would they?"
"I suppose."
"We give Her Highness the support she needs to make it through the day, but in time she will need to stand on her own, and in turn support Kyou. We can't do everything for her."
"I guess you're right," she mumbled. "I would like to do as much as I can, though."
"You gave her a hinman, didn't you? And I'm assuming you assigned some of your shirei to her?"
"Yes, of course."
"Then you are doing all you can. This is war. Kirin aren't built for war. You have done all you can reasonably do to protect Her Highness. That is your duty. Come time the war is over, you will run your province, and keep your eyes on Her Highness. That is all you can do. No one asks anything more. No one asks you to fight this war. That's our job."
Mei fell silent, and Kyourin let the silence pass for a little bit. Then she said, "I can't help feeling I'm doing less than I should, that I'm failing Kyou somehow."
It was obvious from her tone that Mei was exasperated. "I just said there's no more you can do. Look, Kyou hasn't had the best luck with monarchs since I've been around. A couple lasted for a while, but nothing too special. Each destroyed the kingdom, over and over again. And each time I saw the new one, I knew the same would happen, that I would somehow have to keep Teki intact through the storm. But Her Highness, somehow…"
Mei broke off, obviously in thought. When she spoke again, her tone was different, somehow smaller. "I feel different about this one. I don't know why, I don't know how. You can often tell something about a monarch by the way they treat their Kirin. If she can turn to showing the citizens of Kyou that same compassion she has for you. I don't know what it is. She just feels different. I believe Her Highness has the potential to be one of the better monarchs we have had in quite some time. Of course, she could just as easily fail, but I don't expect that to happen any time soon. I believe if we can get her through this war, put her on the throne, help her form a solid government, we will have good times in head of us.
"I think you might be seeing my point. Your most important duty you have to the people of Kyou is to pick the monarch, pick our lord. I can't help feeling this time, we have a good one on our hands. You have already done what you must, the greatest gift you could possibly give the people of this kingdom. After the gift of the Queen, in the state things are in, what more could you possibly do?"
Her words didn't really make Kyourin feel any better—there was nothing that could make her feel better about her helplessness before the coming violence—but she probably had a point. "I suppose you're right."
"I usually am."
"Speaking of solid government—"
Mei interrupted. "Now is not the time for such discussion."
"Alright."
"However, I will be introducing Her Highness to important people around my government, and escorting her to our allied provinces to do the same. Hopefully she'll take to enough competent people to form a proper government. But it's not time to talk of it quite yet."
"Okay," Kyourin said lowly. It wasn't like she had to make the offer now. By Mei's reaction, she probably knew perfectly well what Kyourin had been about to say, so it wasn't like saying it made any real difference. She let a silence descend again. For long minutes the two of them simply sat there, staring into the distance.
Mei spoke first. "Her Highness has the soul of a warrior."
It wasn't possible to hold back her distaste. "I suppose."
"Being a warrior isn't just about killing, you know."
"So I've heard."
Mei sounded annoyed again. "How about me? Am I nothing but a killer?"
Kyourin almost felt herself recoil at her tone, but somehow she managed to stand her ground. "You know I didn't mean that."
For a moment it seemed Mei was going to bite her head off—metaphorically, of course—but then her growling ceased. "Never mind. It's not something I would expect a Kirin to understand. You Kirin operate by a completely different logic. The kind of logic where the ends don't justify the means."
"There are several kinds of logic that operate such."
"I know that. And I don't understand any of them. Believe it or not," Mei said with a yawn, "I am pretty smart."
"So I've heard." If the face she was wearing at the moment were capable of smiling, there would be a small, thin one. "I'm not exactly an idiot myself you know."
"Really? I hadn't heard that."
Kyourin snorted.
Then came a voice off to the side. "Aku? And is that the Lord Governor?" That was Touke's voice. Kyourin turned her head to see Touke standing a short distance off, staring at them with her head cocked. Seeing Touke there brought a spike of happiness in her, almost enough already to break her depressed mood. She saw Touke was wearing her detestable sword, even though those things weren't allowed back here. Either no one had decided to stop her, or her status allowed her to simply ignore those rules. Or maybe Mei didn't hold to that one.
Kyourin didn't really feel like getting up, but Mei stood up and started slinking toward her. "Did you need something, Your Highness?" She sat on her haunches a short distance away.
"Not me. Rei was asking for you." She looked completely unfazed by talking with a leopard.
"So he sent you," Mei said, her voice baffled.
"No, I came looking for Aku. He said you would be together."
Mei shrugged. She turned toward her clothes. On the way there, her form contorted, and suddenly there she was in her human shape. Touke averted her eyes. As long as Mei was shifting, she may as well. Aku joined Mei by their clothes, and started dressing with her. "You know," Mei said, working at a knot, "my servants keep saying I shouldn't throw my expensive clothes on the grass."
"What's the difference between doing that and sitting on it?"
"Well, you're not supposed to do that either," Mei said with a laugh.
"That doesn't sound like any fun."
"Well see, you're not supposed to have fun in silk."
Aku scoffed. "Nonsense. I had fun in silk all the time on Houzan."
"Yes, but you also had fifty people to clean your clothes," Mei said with a laugh. "I guess twenty five, since you split with En Taiho."
"Actually, less. Renki too."
"Oh, I forgot about him. He hadn't taken human form by the time I was there, had he?"
"I can't remember for sure. Sometime around then."
By about that time they were both dressed. Mei ran off to find whoever Rei was, and Aku walked up to Touke. Now that she was closer to Touke, the happiness her presence inspired intensified, almost making her forget her previous doldrums. "You were looking for me?"
When Touke turned toward her, the sword approached. A flash of fear rose in Aku and she nearly took a step back, but she tempered herself. "I wanted you to eat with me. On our own, I mean."
"Eat?" repeated Aku with a frown. "What time is it?" She glanced up at the sky. The sun was well on its way to the horizon. "Oh. I hadn't noticed that much time pass."
Touke had her usual slight smile on her face, the smile Aku knew meant she had done something amusing or cute. Or both. "C'mon," she said with a twitch of her head, and turned to move in a seemingly random direction.
"Where are we going?" asked Aku after a moment. She walked at Touke's side, the opposite side to her sword.
"My apartments."
"And you know where those are?"
Touke shrugged. "I spent a lot of time in a place not that different from this. I got good at finding my way around."
"I wouldn't think a provincial palace and the home of a hisen would be that similar."
"Above Unkai, everything is pretty much the same." Aku supposed there could be some truth to that. After a short walk—the proximity to Mei's own rooms was probably a sign of the importance of the apartments—they arrived where Touke lived. The place was a lot nicer than Aku's, even Mei's, but she supposed this is where foreign dignitaries would stay, so Mei had to make sure it was opulent enough they wouldn't be offended. A room or two inside, and there was a room much like the one they had had breakfast in, though shinier with precious metals. The table again had food on it. "Go away," Touke said to the servants inside. "Far away."
The servants gave each other weird looks, but didn't move at first. She supposed Mei gave them more leeway and was less direct with orders. So Aku said, "I believe the Queen wishes to have a private conversation with me she wouldn't want you to overhear." The servants bowed their heads in acquiescence and disappeared. That's better. Mei should talk to her servants about how to properly behave around people like Touke. Aku was sure Mei wouldn't want to indirectly offend guests.
When they were gone, Touke let out a long breath, and shrunk a little. "Alone at last."
"You're not technically alone."
"You don't count." Touke sunk into a divan, letting out another sigh. "I can't believe I made it through that. I thought I would collapse." Her back-country drawl was coming back.
Aku gave her a big smile, even though her eyes were closed. She walked a bit closer. The sword across Touke's lap kept her farther away than she would like. "I think you're doing very well. Surprisingly well, considering how you reacted at first."
"I'm barely holding together. Force of will." Touke lifted her arm, inviting Aku to sit with her. She didn't move. When Touke opened her eyes, she probably noticed the hesitant look in Aku's. "What's wrong? You been acting all weird around me today. Did I do something wrong?"
"Not you," Aku said with a shake of your head. "It's that." She pointed at the sword, as though accusing it of a crime.
Touke glanced down at the sword. "What's wrong with it?"
"I'm scared of weapons. Kirin, remember?"
Touke sighed. She stood up, working at where the sword attached to the belt, walking over to the other side of the room. She removed the sword and sheath, and set it down on a table far away. Not quite far away enough for Aku to be completely comfortable, but good enough for now. Then Touke returned to the divan, and made her offer again.
Her smile wider than before, she slunk over toward Touke. She sat a short distance away, then laid down, settling her head in Touke's lap. With physical contact, the bubbling happiness in Aku raised to frothing waves, and she let out a sigh of contentment. She felt a slight tugging that she interpreted as Touke running a hand through her mane. A short silence passed, then Aku said, "We should do this every evening."
"That wouldn't be so bad." Aku could hear the smile on Touke's voice.
"We should set aside some time for this. Every evening at dinner is Queen–Kirin snuggle time."
Touke let out a short chuckle. "I don't think we can do that. We can try, I guess. As long as we get rid of the servants first."
"I don't really care."
"I do," Touke said in a lower voice.
"You really shouldn't. The relationship between a Kirin and her liege is very important. A close one will only imply to your subjects that you're staying close to the Way."
"I don't think everyone will think of it that way."
"I suppose not. I still don't care."
Touke chuckled again. "You're silly."
"I've been told."
A long silence stretched, Touke petting Aku and Aku wearing a huge, idiotic smile on her face. Eventually Touke said, "I'm sorry."
"What for?"
"I shouldn't have let you come with to the meeting. With the generals. It didn't think it would be that bad. I knew Kirin didn't like war, but…"
Aku shook her head against Touke's legs. "It's okay. I wanted to go. I want to be there for you as much as I can."
"I guess." Another short silence. "Next time, you're not coming."
Even though she probably wouldn't have come again anyway, Touke telling her she didn't have to to spare her discomfort warmed her heart. "Thank you."
"Nothing to thank me for, really."
"It is," Aku said with a sigh. "A lesser queen would order me to come with."
"Sad excuse for a queen."
"I suppose so."
Touke pulled on her shoulder a little bit, and Aku immediately understood what she wanted. She turned over onto her back. Her mane got a little mixed up between them, but that was okay. "I want you to believe me when I say this," Touke said, looking into her eyes. "With the war and all, I think it's important."
"Okay," Aku breathed.
"I would never hurt anyone," Touke said, "if I didn't have to. Even something like bringing you to the meetings. I wouldn't do it. Sure, we're going to war. But it's necessary to kill a few to save Kyou."
"I can't abide by that logic."
"But it's true."
Aku supposed she had something of a point. It wasn't a decision she'd ever be able to make herself, but she supposed that's why Kirin didn't rule the Kingdoms. And there was no denying the truth in Touke's eyes. A surging feeling arose in her, a feeling of joy and pride in Touke. It was so powerful it compared with the usual Touke-inspired happiness. "I really did choose well," Aku muttered to herself.
Smiling slightly, Touke reached over Aku to the table. She came back with a couple pieces of dried fruit. She held one of them up to her lips. Aku had to restrain the urge to laugh. "What are you doing?" she said.
"You're my Kirin," Touke said with her thin smile. "It's my job to take care of you."
"You're my Queen. It's my job to take care of you."
"We'll split the difference."
Aku laughed, but accepted the fruit.
Sekkon: 切悃
Rei: 励
