In the Garden
6 July 2005
by Loren Dean

The garden in Doji Shiju's guest house was a little wonder. White Orchid Village was certainly no Toshi Ranbo, but Shiju's peasants did a fine job keeping things peaceful and pleasant. Shosuro Ridachi smiled contentedly beneath his mask at the gentility of it all.

"A Scorpion in the night," said the wry voice behind him, feminine and confident in its femininity. "Should I fear for my safety?"

Ridachi smiled at the approaching Ikoma, her golden-dyed hair appearing in the moonlight like a pale hood. Madoka swaggered out of the shadows and joined him on the bench, both now facing the topiary display at the center. Far from a classic beauty, she was nevertheless a woman of passionate and open bravado, a genuine Ikoma. She had laughed about her defeat at the sumai challenge earlier in the day, and been all smiles and braggadocio ever since. Defeat meant nothing to her, it seemed, so long as she was defeated fairly.

"There is something to be said for those who speak their minds openly," Ridachi said.

Madoka nodded beside him, "As well as for those who can keep silent when needed."

"Indeed," said Ridachi, and then, altering his tone, "so, to what do I owe the pleasure of an invitation such as this?"

The lady Lion smiled, "You cannot guess? I thought Scorpions could smell a person's desires."

"You mistake me for a Yasuki trader," Ridachi chuckled, eliciting one from Madoka as well. "Is it desire that has brought on this invitation?"

"It is," Madoka replied simply, turning to give Ridachi an unmistakable look.

"A Lion pillowing with a Scorpion?"

"Is it so difficult to imagine?" Madoka's look had not changed. It was an intense look. Hungry. A touch Feral. She likely loved as energetically as she lived. This, coupled with her confident femininity, gave her an allure far beyond the tangible. But...

"It is not difficult to imagine at all," Ridachi shook his head slightly. "You are an intriguing woman, Madoka-san. Beautiful, intelligent, and brave. Any man would thank the fortunes for an offer such as this one. As I do. But I must decline."

"Oh?" Madoka's brows rose. "You thank the fortunes, but must decline?"

Ridachi met her gaze without flinching, and spoke placidly. "As honored as I am by your invitation, I have a wife and children who I must honor as well." She appeared uncertain, so he carried on. "Make no mistake, Madoka-san. Were I unattached..." he let the words hang a moment, the unspoken meaning clear, "but my attachments preclude me from accepting such an invitation, even one as tempting as yours."

"You do your wife honor," Madoka nodded, her hungry look fading to one of respect. "I would not have guessed you were married."

"Where do you suppose new Scorpions come from?" Ridachi put just the right inflection on the words, making them just jesting enough to bring another smile out of Madoka.

She looked at the garden with its prize orchids for a moment. "I misjudged you, Ridachi-san. You have my apology."

"No apology is needed," Ridachi met her eyes evenly, reinforcing his words, but maintaining a friendly air.

"In truth," Madoka said after a moment, "I rather envy you, Ridachi-san."

"You wish you had a wife?" Ridachi jibed.

She laughed once, a single hearty heave, and grinned. "No, no." And then, sobering, "My meaning is that you go and do things that I have never done and can never do. Honor precludes me from participating in many of the... activities common to the Scorpions."

"And this makes you envious?"

"Indeed it does," Madoka nodded eagerly, her voice a bit faraway, the wistful voice of the storyteller. "What stories the Scorpion clan must possess! What tales of deeds! What great tales of loyalty, and trickery," she nudged Ridachi with a playful conspirator's elbow.

"The Ikoma keep the court history of the Empire," answered Ridachi. "A great duty, and doubtless a task involving tale upon tale, for they must be written to be remembered."

Madoka sighed. "We keep the histories, it is true. But I have read and read, and so many of the courtly stories feel," she searched for the word, "false." She shook her head. "No, false is not the proper word."

"Indeed," Ridachi said, his eyebrow climbing higher, "They are the word of the Emperor, the final account of the past."

"But many of the stories do not read as though they are entirely true," Madoka replied. Ridachi said nothing, and she continued, thinking out loud. "It is almost as though details have been ignored, or perhaps altered, to keep a story short. Or," she lowered her voice, "politically expedient."

"This is why I envy you Scorpions," she continued. "Surely if there is a secret to be known, your clan knows it. And oh, to know such stories."

"Well," Ridachi said after a moment, "perhaps someday you may learn the truths behind a story or two."

Madoka looked suddenly tense, "I would never ask you to betray a trust."

"And this is wisdom," Ridachi nodded. "But one never knows what the future holds."

They shared a long look.

"Indeed," Madoka grinned at last.