Leading by Example
21 July 2005
by Loren Dean

Taro looked terrible by the time Ridachi found him. The big Hiruma was listing badly to one side behind a table full of empty cups and overturned shochu bottles. He was mumbling, and seemed to be having a conversation with the drool that had run down his chin to soak a spot in the front of his kimono. His face was ashen, and he looked wide-eyed at nothing in particular.

"Taro-san?" Ridachi ventured.

"Shochu!" the Crab bellowed. Ridachi sidestepped as the peasant innkeeper burst into the room, bowed, and burst back out again, clearly at his wits' end. At least, Ridachi thought wryly, Taro had had the sense to surrender his weapons before starting on his binge.

"Taro-san, what are you doing?" Ridachi asked gently.

It was the middle of the day, the first day of the White Orchid festival here in the village. Taro had come, as had Ridachi, to represent his family and clan to the local daimyo, Doji Shiju. A series of minor contests were being held, largely for entertainment's sake, but something had gone wrong. Taro had finished his round of a footrace, the last round of the race itself, and Shiju-sama had declared a rest break. Tetsujin had then offered to hold a tea ceremony for those interested, and to Ridachi's surprise actually received takers. Ridachi himself rather enjoyed the tranquility of Tetsujin's tea ceremonies, but he had to admit that someone unfamiliar with the young Dragon could easily think twice about attending such a service when a stuttering albino administered it.

But that was neither here nor there. During Tetsujin's offer and the subsequent discussion, Ridachi had noticed that Taro had disappeared from the crowd. Concerned for Taro, Ridachi had declined Tetsujin's offer and gone looking for the missing Crab. It pained him to miss Tetsujin's tea ceremony, as the young man put great effort into his performance of the ancient art, but if something was afoot, now was the time to discover what it was.

And here it was: Taro, in the middle of the day, drinking himself stupid on hot strong shochu for no readily apparent reason.

"Taro-san, there remain challenges to be faced today," Ridachi ventured.

"Not for me," Taro said unhappily. "I have failed."

"Failed what?"

Taro seemed to inflate slightly, as he took a deep staggering breath. "I am a coward!" he blurted suddenly, the effort of the words reducing him to his prior size.

Ridachi looked around quickly, taken aback by the volume of Taro's words. The innkeeper was not coming through the door, which was good, though he had little doubt that the servants of the inn would certainly have heard Taro's ill-advised admission. Of course, the man was drunk, and no heimin would dare say a word to Taro about it, but rumors spread, and it wouldn't do to sully the competition with allegations and accusations started in a drunken stupor.

"A coward?" Ridachi replied calmly. "You fear footraces?"

"No no," Taro shook his head, his sentence trailing into a mumble. He then composed his thoughts a moment, and in halting half-sobs related his tale:

"I was leading a unit of scouts into the Shadowlands, and we were attacked. The creatures were on us before we knew it, and men were dying. And I ran. I did not aid them. They called out to me, and I left them! And lied! I disgraced myself before my daimyo by lying to him. I called it a retreat that failed! But I left them!"

He was weeping openly now. "In the race, I felt the fear creep on me again. The running made me think of it. I cannot face myself. I am a coward."

Part of Ridachi was stunned. Taro could be ordered to seppuku if this story were true. Part of Ridachi was also appalled. Taro should know better than to tell such tales to strangers in tea houses, let alone Scorpions.

But that was neither here nor there. Taro was in a sorry state, and was going to do something openly disgraceful soon if no intervention was to be had. Shiju-sama would demand answers, and the Crab would disgrace his own daimyo with the admission the Crane would surely wring from him. Taro's dishonor was his own to deal with in his own way. Allowing him to spread it onto others was unacceptable. So an intervention would have to come. Now.

The innkeeper hurried into the room, and Ridachi took the bottle from the harried heimin, giving him a stern look while cocking his head toward the door. The innkeeper took the hint and went away very quickly.

"Taro-san," Ridachi began gently, seating himself at the small table, the bottle hidden in the folds of his kimono. "You are no coward."

"Bah," Taro muttered. "You have not known fear as I do."

"This is true, but I know fear," Ridachi replied.

"How can you?" Taro demanded. "You have never been to the Wall."

"True, but I have attended Winter Court," Ridachi nodded. "At least the dangers of the Shadowlands are more or less obvious. At court, one may never see the knife in the dark or the poison in the tea. Or the knife of another's words, or the poison in their lies. I feel fear every time I engage in courtly discussion, for the battle is the same. A battle of words and favors and lies and conceits. Court is dangerous. Not as the shadowlands, to be certain, but I will confess I have sometimes felt like running from court, just as you ran from your fight."

Taro was thinking, and Ridachi considered that the metaphor may be too strong for the addled Taro to grasp. He pared it back. "Taro-san, you have faced horrors I have only imagined in my nightmares. You do things that keep the rest of us safe. Rokugan can sleep at night because of the sacrifices made by the Crab and its soldiers. Taro-san, you may have run from a battle, but what of the other battles you have fought? What of the other enemies you have denied passage across the Great Wall? Taro-san, a moment of weakness is no cause for shame, it is simply a challenge to be overcome."

"But I felt the fear in the race," Taro breathed, his face showing deep thought in spite of his binge.

"A phantom memory," Ridachi shrugged. "Shake it off, Hiruma-sama," he reached to clap Taro jovially on the arm. The big Crab's bicep did not even ripple, and Ridachi put his hand back in his sleeve quickly. "You are better than this," he finished.

Taro thought long and hard. Ridachi considered what it would take to render the man unconscious, and decided it was probably beyond his ability. Either way, what was said was said, and now Taro had to decide what to do.

"I have misjudged the Scorpion," Taro said at last, attempting to stagger to his feet and draw himself up in what may have once resembled pride. "Innkeeper!"

The poor heimin slunk back into the room.

"Tea," Taro demanded, wobbling only slightly. Then added, "Strong. And a hot bath. I have engagements to see to this afternoon."

The innkeeper made an affirmative noise and bowed out of the room. Taro looked at Ridachi. And Ridachi looked at Taro.

And there was nothing more to say.