Hotei's Blessing
21 March 2006
by Loren Dean

And there it was. The accusation, wrung from Tetsujin by the placid interrogation of the Emperor, hung in the air like a stormcloud. The Celestial Order was broken, and Shosuro Ridachi was no samurai. Such had been Tetsujin's recitation of the Thunder Dragon's missive. And then came the question, the ultimate question. Ridachi's forehead was pressed to the floor along with the others, Katai, Yul, and Nikana, as well as Tetsujin and the shugenja Chihiro, but he had felt the Emperor's gaze fall upon him even before the man spoke.

"Ridachi-san."

"Hai, my Emperor." Ridachi had looked up then, and spoke largely to the Emperor's lap, as Toturi III was seated on a raised dais, and looking higher would have been both socially presumptuous and physically awkward.

"Why would the Thunder Dragon have made such a statement?"

And there it was. And Ridachi thought a moment on an answer.

How to respond? The immediate reaction, of course, was to obfuscate. Tetsujin was effectively in disgrace for his involvement with, and inaction surrounding, the death of Takako. His judgment was in question, and his recall of the Thunder Dragon's words could easily be considered cloudy. It would take very little to shrug, recite the six-generation genealogy he had prepared, and deflect scrutiny back onto Tetsujin.

Unfortunately, the trap therein was vast, and inescapable if triggered. Ridachi and his unlikely companions were alone in the room with the Emperor, Paneki-sama, and Kurohito-sama, and while Ridachi felt confident in his ability to varnish over thorny questions among the rest of the group currently kneeling before the dais, his ability to slide out from under the scrutiny of the three greatest politicians in the Empire was much less certain. And if he were caught in a vagary here, there would be no way out. There could be no second explanation, no clarification of his words or answers. He was being directly questioned by the Emperor, and there could be no intricacy in his answer.

Oddly, he felt very much at ease with what happened next, and was impressed at his ability to speak the absolute truth with no panic, and complete control.

"Because," he said slowly and calmly, "by the strictest definition of bushido it is true."

The silence was deafening, and Ridachi filled it after only a moment's further consideration. "I was born in a small village, to a peasant family. I was raised heimin, took a peasant wife, fathered a peasant son, and settled into the only life I knew existed–farming rice."

"I was content with my life, and happy in my station," he continued, still completely at ease. "And then I saved a man's life. The man, as it happened, was a Shosuro bushi, who expressed his gratitude for my act by taking me and my family into his household. I expected to be a servant, but in practice became much more. I was tutored extensively, had a genealogy crafted for me, and was inserted quietly into samurai society. I am aware that this flies in the face of the Order of things, and should it be my lot to now die, I will treasure the experiences I have had, and accept my fate."

He returned his head to the floor, at peace with his words. His companions were very still. He wondered wryly if Tetsujin was waiting for a thunderbolt from the heavens to cleanse the room.

The Emperor digested Ridachi's answer for several long moments.

"Paneki-san?"

"Hai, my Emperor."

"Did you know of this?"

If anything, Ridachi knew, this was an even worse question than the one originally asked. Paneki could not say he knew, for this would be an admission of violation. He could equally not say he was ignorant of Ridachi's status, for this would intimate that he had been fooled by a peasant. Fortunately, Paneki had an answer that, while not perfect, was serviceable.

"I had suspicions."

The Emperor grunted an acknowledgement of the answer, and thought a moment longer.

"And how has he served?"

"With distinction," Paneki said without hesitation. "Your Imperial Majesty will remember his part in the gaijin incident of this past year, for instance."

Another grunt, and another pause, and then, "Ridachi."

Ridachi looked up again.

"You are I am sure aware that Our interpretation of the workings of the Celestial Order is a good deal more liberal than those of the past dynasty. Thus, as your daimyo vouches for your efficacy, and as you appear able to comport yourself with honor and propriety, as far as We are concerned, you are Samurai."

"I cannot express my gratitude, my Emperor." Ridachi heard himself say the words, now deeply impressed with his state of mind. Was this the influence of the fortunes, engendering serene acceptance of the world for what it was, rather than instilling frustrated panic over what it was not?

"Thank you for attending Us today," Toturi said with a certain finality.

And Shosuro Ridachi, a Scorpion samurai, bowed out of the room with the rest.