On the Warren's Wall
27 July 1998
by Ed Rubin

Hida Naoki was standing in the tower, ignoring Shosuro Takiro's boasting like the miserable buzzing of a fly that it was: so like a man of little prowess, to speak loudly and to delay real action. It was contemptible, but remained in fashion among the other clans, so these members of those other clans must be allowed their childlike play. Naoki's attention was on the still spreading army, its formations, its arrangement, its sheer size. His mind was running through a list of the likely plans of attack that the Scorpions would adopt, and simultaneously formulating counter-plans to minimize the effect of those attacks, and, with the fortunes aid, to turn the tide.

These Scorpion scum were nothing like the foes of the Shadowlands, so the tidings were decent, in Naoki's mind. Focus, and form a plan, then strike, and make that plan work. Everyone thought of the Crab as a crude, crashing, and thoughtless attacker, but they were wrong. The past successes of his clan were built on strength of body, yes, but it was a strong body directed by a strong, clever, deliberate mind that always won the field. And the Crab had both. This Crab had inherited both, and would use them in tandem.

Without turning his eyes toward Takiro, Naoki turned his mind in that direction. Now was not the time for any confrontation on the score of his grandfather's general. It was certainly not present here, and there was no opportunity at this time that Naoki could see for gathering information about it. That might change, of course, if Takiro could be captured. But that was an unlikely, if appealing, possibility. If Takiro were killed, and Naoki enjoyed that thought just as much as the one of capturing him, the Shosuro would still be in possession of the journal pages. Then the task of finding them would have changed, but in what way? Would the new opponent be tougher, or easier? Would the search for the papers be made simpler, by a period of confusion in the leadership of the Shosuro, or more difficult, in ways that could not now be foreseen? First things first, Naoki, he chided himself, Win this battle, and fight tomorrow's tomorrow!

Passing his eyes briefly across Takiro's position, Naoki turned to observe the others in the tower's turret. The Hare were good folk. Oda would not give an inch, and wasn't adopting a path dictated by a more foolish interpretation of honor's requirements. This was war, and military propaganda, when possible, should and must be used, as Oda had done. Naoki had noticed Jinjiro's reaction to Oda's declaration that nothing had been stolen, no one killed, and that nothing other than greed motivated the Scorpions' attack. This last was the most fundamental truth, and the first part of his statement, although not entirely true, was certainly a valid interpretation of what had happened. In any case, you can't steal something from someone if it doesn't belong to them in the first place, and slaying a Scorpion could never really be considered murder. Like the dangerous insects they were named for, they needed to be controlled, often with extreme prejudice.

Nevertheless, Jinjiro's reaction was typical of the idealistic boy, but, admirable, he had controlled himself and not said anything. Naoki hoped that would remain true: A person so addicted to the more foolish and impractical aspects of honor was good for epic romance stories, but was likely to get them all killed before these unfolding events became anything epic.

Jinjiro was a good companion, a good man, someone that Naoki felt could be a true hero sometime, if only he didn't lead himself into foolishness first. Our group can help him, as he can help us, Naoki thought. His hatred of Takiro even seems to run deeper than mine, though I don't know why. His support for me when I told them of my enmity for Takiro was genuine, and I do appreciate that sort of straightforward thinking. Especially from a Crane, for whom it must be very difficult.

Looking to the back of the room, Naoki heard Marako declare her willingness to charge the Scorpions with Takeshi. Now here were two warriors that Naoki could respect. Their desire and will for action was manifest, and neither went into a battle without thinking it through. The Samurai-ko sometimes let her notion of honor get the better of her, but the samurai-ko of other clans were unfortunately burdened by honor. Crab women were much better off, that way: They could see their duty in front of them, and do it. Honor off the wall need not burden them as much as the women of the other, more leisurely clans. Despite such an origin, though, Marako was a great example of a warrior, and Naoki was proud to fight along with her.

Turning back to viewing tomorrow's battlefield, Naoki thought again of the fortunes that many of the Hare soldiers must be now invoking. We five are already fortunate, he thought. We know that the fortune of heroic guidance is with us. It is true, however, that we will be even better off if he brings friends with him to view the battle.