River of Gold Part 3

The Crane Clan fosters peace between Rokugan’s samurai clans, spreading art and culture throughout the land. Its master Kakita artisans use only the finest materials, which the clan can afford thanks to its immeasurable wealth. The Daidoji Trading Council serves the Crane by controlling the flow of goods along the coast, and their networks extend along every river in the Empire. 

However, the members of the Daidoji Trading Council are not samurai but merchants—mere commoners. As a result, it falls to the enigmatic family daimyō, Daidoji Uji, to ensure that the council comports itself in a manner befitting the Crane Clan’s reputation. And unlike other Crane who rely on showy gifts and favors to realize their goals, Uji’s methods are much more discreet. When the recent attack on the River of Gold by the so-called “pirate prince” threatens the prosperity of the Crane Clan, Daidoji Uji will do what he must to make an example of the pirates, and any who would dare follow in their wake.  

What follows is part three of the River of Gold short story series. To find out more about the River of Gold, and how you can influence the outcome of the series, click here, or scroll down to enjoy this episode in your choice of text and audio… 

Part 3: The Prosperity of the Crane

by Robert Denton III

All things considered, Daidoji Uji regarded the matter to be one of his rare failures. Had he assigned a samurai escort instead of entrusting the task to rōnin, perhaps this disaster could have been averted. And was that not the head of the Daidoji family’s most important job? To avert disasters that would threaten the Crane, a clan outnumbered and bordered by enemies? But he had believed the route was secure. Now he knew better.

Although he oversaw the Daidoji Trade Council, Uji was not himself a member. Normally he would not attend their regular meetings, but the recent attack changed things.

From her seat, Daidoji Kikuno cast Uji a weary look. As his eyes and ears on the council – privy to what they wouldn’t say in front of him – she was ready to fulfill her role today. The rest avoided his gaze. His presence, with his dark silks and polished mask, seemed to unnerve them.

Yet Uji found himself looking beyond the window, to the port harbor far below. Workers fished broken crates out of the river, trying to salvage what the violence had spilled.

Currently, they struggled with an overturned box of cocoons. Tiny orbs bobbed in the water as workers flailed with their nets; a shipment for artisans of the Asahina family, whose devotion to pacifism was so strong, they only wove silk from cocoons where the silkworms were unharmed. This made Asahina silk rare and expensive – those of religious devotion could wear it guilt free. But if the silkworms in those cocoons had drowned in the river, the Asahina would never accept them. Wasted efforts on tiny silkworms wrapped in gray, like bodies prepared for cremation, tainting the water as they floated by…

The chamber’s doors swung open. The room fell silent as a herald entered. Having previously intercepted this missive, Uji already knew its contents.

“It is confirmed,” said Tsuda, the council’s record keeper. “In addition to our supplies, the pirates stole the stipends for the Daidoji family samurai.”

The council’s faces stiffened against any overt response. No one wanted to appear unprofessional. But without the yearly stipend, the Daidoji family would have to dig up the funds to pay their retainers – possibly by taxing the local villages again – or ask their samurai to do without. And Daidoji samurai already gave so much for the clan…

Hiso, who spoke on behalf of the sake brewers, broke the silence. “It was a mistake to sell the southern harvest at the City of Lies marketplace.”

“I stand by the decision,” Chisei said. She was the trade liaison. “The exchange rate was better. The southern exchanges would not meet the clan’s needs.”

Hiso sighed. “I recall the stamp of the Daidoji Trade Council was enough to deter thieves.” He looked pointedly at Uji. “Once upon a time.”

Uji let his eyes drift back to the window. He would kill this sentiment with his contempt.

How bold the council had grown as of late! But so long as the Crane Clan Champion’s personal fortune was stored in common broker warehouses, a samurai’s reprisal would not frighten them. He’d advised such long ago. Each day since vindicated him more.

The eldest member, who represented the farming and mining villages, spoke. “Our tax burden remains unchanged – I assume our lords must demand more taxes to make up the loss.”

“I will present their plight to the court,” Chisei said. “The Emperor, in his wisdom, will surely grant the southern territories a reprieve.”

And not pay our fair share? Beg on our knees for charity before the other clans?

Never.

“Unless you object, Lord Uji?”

Had his eyes betrayed his displeasure? No, they simply expected him to speak. But he was no brute that simply spoke whatever came to mind. He was a lord of the Crane. Instead, he simply turned his head toward Daidoji Kikuno and gave her a quiet nod.

Kikuno cleared her throat, rising to her feet. “Even in times of famine, the southern Crane provinces never failed to pay their fair due. To ask the courts for a tax reprieve would not only be humiliating, it would mean admitting that these ruffians actually form some manner of threat.” She narrowed her eyes. “We can’t let our rivals believe these raids hurt our coffers. We must recover what was stolen.” She bowed in Uji’s direction. “My lord, I hate to ask this of the Daidoji, but perhaps your samurai–”

Kikuno created the opening Uji needed. Treaties and agreements prevented him from directly intervening in council affairs, but with a simple request, the task would be his alone to solve. As was his plan.

Yet Hiso’s eyes betrayed his intent, so Uji held back.

“That is not necessary, Lady Kikuno.”

Uji watched the brewer closely. Did Hiso mean to make an influential move? Was this finally the moment Uji had anticipated for months?

Hiso continued transparently. “We need not spread the clan’s defenders thin. If there is one thing my years have taught, it is that one must find opportunity in misfortune. Clearly river travel is not as safe as it once was, and yes, our rivals probe for weaknesses. But perhaps an unconventional solution has presented itself. Have these warriors not proven themselves formidable and cunning?”

Misfortune. Warriors. Already the language was changing. Softening. Uji had seen this before, always preceding some terrible justification.

Chisei tapped her chin. “What are you proposing?”

“Let us hire these mercenaries ourselves,” Hiso replied. “They can be valuable escorts.”

Enough talk. He spoke low, forcing the others to lean forward to hear him.

“No,” he said. “I forbid it.”

Kikuno alone regarded him with alarm. The others exchanged quiet looks. Uji sensed wordless calculations being made. A direct order from the Daidoji daimyō, even if he wasn’t on the council, should be the final word.

“Of course.” Hiso lowered his head. “As you say, my lord.”

There. A sideways glance, exchanged with Chisei. The slightest smirk on Tsuda’s face. These quiet things spoke volumes.

The council had already decided. They would proceed behind Uji’s back.

Uji sat back down as the discussion moved to other matters. To accuse them would be unbecoming. Besides, he didn’t need to say anything. His actions would speak for him, in time. Let them think he was fooled.

These commoners would be reminded who was in charge.

Uji found Kikuno seated in a copse of katsura trees and cotton grass among chirping frogs and crickets of the Uebe marshes. She’d set up an easel overlooking the River of the Gold, which often flooded into these wetlands. From over her shoulder, Uji observed her depiction of the river: a winding branch of blues and purples, riverboats dwarfed by the setting sun.

Boats appeared even at this hour, their red lanterns hovering just above the water. Twilight was haunted; crimson lanterns repelled unhappy spirits according to folklore. Uji doubted that. It was never so easy to keep monsters at bay.

“Lord Uji!” Finally noticing him, Kikuno made to rise.

“Don’t,” he said. “Please finish your work.”

She let out a long breath. “One day, I will hear your approach, and you will be unable to sneak up on me.”

“That will never happen. Not even when I am eighty.”

She smirked, resuming her blending of purple and blue hues. “Care to join me? The river begs for interpretation.”

Uji tried to remember if, in all his life, anyone had ever been pleased to see him. Most tended to assume his presence meant something was wrong. Daidoji Kikuno may well have been the only one who actually smiled at his arrival. Perhaps that was why she could get away with such a casual tone.

She selected a new color. “It is not hard, Lord Uji. First, you block out the shapes. Then, you fill in the details.” She paused. “I find that drawing helps one to look more closely. To see what is really there.”

She may as well have declared: I have found something of interest.

Uji plucked the drawing from her easel.

The drawing’s focus was a pleasure barge with a green circle painted on the side. She’d drawn four figures on the roof, practicing music on three-string instruments played with a bow known as a kokyū. It seemed like any other depiction of the lazy river life offered in woodblock print shops across the Empire, no different than–

“The bows,” Uji realized. They were not musical bows, but half-bows; hankyū, for archery.

“A clever disguise,” Kikuno said. “I imagine they strapped arrows to the kokyū’s neck. I noticed them on every ship with a green circle. They could simply be disguised guards, but few legitimate operations pretend to be unarmed.”

Perhaps it was a pirate’s boat. Perhaps not. They would never be sure so long as pirates could hide in the open. Rooting them out was the only chance.

And the trade council wouldn’t even try!

As if she could hear his thoughts, Kikuno spoke. “They’re looking after the clan’s interests as best they know how.”

“The rice brokers’ interests, perhaps. Making a deal with bandits would have been unthinkable in saner times.”

“It has precedent. The Mantis Clan built their fortune with Crane gold.”

“And look how that turned out.”

“Countless villages depend on safe passage along this river. If the raiding stops, what does it matter how it was done?”

“It is a matter of principle,” he replied. “They spat in our faces. Not that common merchants would understand.”

“The council made their decision because it is neat and tidy. They don’t care about samurai grudges. What matters is that trade continues. Even if it means paying lowlifes, at least the problem goes away.”

“No, it doesn’t. If the council pays them, it will send a message, declaring to any gang of cutthroat that if they want gold, all they need do is attack a Crane shipment, and the clan will pay them for the slaughter. It endangers our clan. Makes us look foolish.”

Kikuno hesitated. “Then you would thwart – even challenge – the council?”

Uji met her gaze. “I am lord of the Iron Cranes. I shall do as I please.”

She searched his eyes for a long while. “I see.” She lowered her head and laid her palms on the soft grass. “Well, it goes without saying that I am at your service. I owe you much, the least among which is my own life. What part can I humbly play?”

Already Uji’s mind painted the broad strokes of his plan, blocking out the shapes, awaiting the details he would fill in later.

“Begin with the green circle. See if there is a connection between the boats that bear it. And see if anyone is fencing gold plates stamped in the City of Lies.”

She nodded. “Such a thing could be done discreetly. My contacts may wish to be compensated–”

“I will pay personally.” From his own coffers. He had to leave the trade council’s funds untouched, or they would know what he was doing. And he would not increase the burden on the common folk; they’d suffered enough.

Kikuno spoke, “If… when you confront the pirate lord, what do you intend to do?”

He wanted to corner the man in a duel, sever his hands and head, and display them along the River of Gold. But he was no brute who simply did whatever came to mind. He was a lord of the Crane.

“Subdue him. Disable his fleet. Return all stolen goods. And turn this pirate ‘prince’ over for judgement.”

Kikuno would never accuse Uji of telling an incomplete truth. But eyes spoke unbidden, and louder than the tongue, sometimes.

Uji removed his mask so that she could see the peace that he forced into his expression. “I will not make a martyr of the Prince of the River Pirates. Better that he serve as an example. I leave that to the Emerald Magistrates.”

That seemed to satisfy her. But even as she gathered her things to withdraw, Uji left his true reason unsaid: that the pirate Bakuchiku was not worthy of a warrior’s death. He would not waste his father’s blade on that man’s blood.

He was no brute, after all.

River of Gold continues in Part 4: The Secrets of the Scorpion. Learn more and get your copy of River of Gold, the exciting new game in the world of Legend of the Five Rings, here.