“Come in,” the Shōgun called out from the inner recesses of his most private chambers. The gilded doors slid slowly open, and the graceful limbs of his mistress, the High Consort, Lady Ishihara, moved in from the dark outer corridor where she was waiting.

  The Shōgun’s bedchamber was not as large as would be imagined for such a position of esteem, but it was certainly luxurious. The shoji doors that surrounded his room were overlaid in splendid gold leaf so that the walls shimmered in the light of the lamps. The tatami was crisp and fresh and was changed weekly to maintain this pristine quality. Two dark wooden statues of the hawk stood at the foot of the dais like temple guardians and rose off the floor several feet high. The shogunal futon was thick and covered in layers of silks and fine linens from across the Islands. Beside his bed, there was an ornate stand where his two famous swords were set in solemn repose.

  Upon seeing his mistress, Mashige Hideyo rose from the dais whereupon his elaborate futon was placed, and eagerly beckoned her within.

  “Come! Come in! You are early. What happened? What news of the battle?”

  The ever-prudent Lady of Ishihara bowed formally and then slid the door shut behind her. Her thin smile was enough to mollify the eager Shōgun, and he calmed down for a moment. She approached the dais, bowed again, and then knelt down, folding her dark kimono under her knees as she did so.

  Mashige abruptly sat down across from her, staring at her with ravenous curiosity.

  “It is done,” she said quietly. Her eyes were downcast in modesty, but there was the faintest sign of delight in her measured face.

  The Shōgun blinked several times in astonishment, before inquiring breathlessly, “Everything?”

  The Lady kept her eyes down but nodded so steadily that there could be no mistake.

  The Lord of the Islands sat back as if he had just been pricked by an arrow. “I…” he started to say but then was so overcome by the news that he could not continue.

  “Our victory was complete,” the Lady continued, in a tone as clear as a morning bell. “You were correct in your presumptions. The Tiger and the Dragon were in league against you. They had made a compact with the barbarians.”

  At this, a dark expression passed over the face of the Shōgun, and he sighed despondently. “I am grieved by this betrayal. I honestly thought that they had changed.”

  “They had indeed changed. Instead of warring with each other, they had set their sights on the Shōgunate, on you. Fortunately, they were both destroyed in the battle – utterly destroyed.”

  The Shōgun bowed his head with acknowledgment but was quiet.

  The black eyebrow of the Lady twitched upwards. “My lord? Should you not be pleased by this? We…you won a great battle.”

  Mashige exhaled deeply. “I am sorry, my love. You must forgive me. I know that I should take this news as the greatest joy but instead my heart is heavy. Tora and Ryū were great and mighty generals long before I even rode a horse. I admired them, and they were the heroes of my childhood. There are many tales recounting their individual bravery and their battles against each other are famous throughout the lands. I know that they intended to do me harm, but without them, these islands lose a fraction of their former glory.”

  The fists of the Lady had contracted during this brief eulogy, but she maintained her calm reserve. “As you say,” she managed.

  “Ah!” said the Shōgun, suddenly waking from nostalgia. “Tell me more. What else happened? There must be plenty of news.”

  The Lady conveyed, in detail, the happenings in the Battle of Shinohara Beach as it was later called. She elaborated on the betrayal of the Tiger and Dragon, the diversion by Henji, and the devastating charge of the oni. She also recounted how she and her host of yomi entered the battlefield and turned the tide against the barbarian armada.

  “How was it,” Mashige began, devouring her every word, “That you could harness those beasts and use them so effectively in battle?”

  At this, the Lady flashed a smile. “Because, in a sense, they were my yomi.”

  The Shōgun shifted uncomfortably and eyed her carefully. “What do you mean?”

  “I created them,” Ishihara said indifferently, with a hint of maternal pride. “Although you had a hand in it as well.”

  There was a long pause where the Shōgun remained deathly still, waiting for her to explain herself.

  At length, the Lady continued. “The persecution of the Truists resulted in an excess of bodies – bodies that needed to be dealt with. The Shin-Shadowhand gathered these remains at specified locations along the coast where I knew there to be holy sites – places of power where kami were said to dwell. There we dumped the bodies and polluted the abodes of the kami, enraging them beyond reason and pushing them to transform. Once they fell, I would personally visit them, one-by-one, disguised in the image of their former glory. They hated me but bowed before my majesty. They wanted revenge, and I told them how they could accomplish it.”

  “So, they came,” the Shōgun muttered, doing his best to conceal his disgust.

  “They did. They won you the battle, and likely, the war. The Khahan lost too much and has other enemies that will see this defeat as a sign of weakness. He will have to deal with them first. He may never find time to sail east again.”

  “You have saved me yet again. You always seem to have the answers in my darkest hour.” He then knelt down before his mistress and took her hands in his. “How is our child?”

  The Lady lifted her head, and her cold eyes met her lover’s. “He is growing, my lord.”

  “He?” the Shōgun exclaimed, astonishment and joy lighting his face. “How do you know this?”

  “You must trust me in this,” said the Lady, and then took his hands in hers and brought them to her painted lips.

  The Shōgun could hardly contain his delight. “Oh, what a fortuitous night!” he cried, his eyes glistening wet with tears. “What a blessed night! I have just found out that I have won a great battle that will be remembered for generations, and now this, news of a male heir to inherit my mantle! And, how could I nearly forget – I met one of my old enemies, Masaki Gintaro, and have successfully manipulated him into doing the one thing that only he could do; retrieve the object that will cement my lineage forever. I have not had such a night since the evening of my coronation! Nay, this is the consummation of my happiness!”

  The Lady smiled, but at the same time, she lowered the hands of the Shōgun from her lips. “You met him this evening?”

  “Why yes, my love, he was discovered this afternoon and brought before me only an hour or so before now. He may still be within the castle grounds.”

  “And he agreed to retrieve the sword?” she asked, doubt tingeing her inquiry.

  The Shōgun hardened slightly, taking her question as a subtle slight. “Of course he did. I have his daughter. He must! Which reminds me – there is a matter I must speak to you about, though it pains me to do so.”

  The Lady loosened her grip on the Shōgun’s hands and sat back on her knees. There was a look of clear indignation upon her face.

  The Shōgun’s countenance fell, and his brows narrowed, as he did his best to transform himself back into the proud Lord of the Islands. “I must ask that you leave the girl alone. I still need her.”

  “You know that is a lie,” returned the Lady, maintaining a calm air. “Now that her father is set to do the perilous task, she is worthless to you. It is almost certain that he will die. But even if he succeeds, he will not descend into the bowels of the earth and return through fire and make demands. He will give you the sword.”

  The Shōgun did not soften at this, despite her smooth words. “If he does succeed, I would like to honor our agreement and return the girl to him.”

  “How foolish!” the Lady raged, her calm veneer finally shattering. “You would let a man live who knows how unjustly you took that hallowed prize? One word from his mouth would delegitimize the entire enterprise and sow doubt on your authority. In such a case, it would be better to have never gained the sword at all!”

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  At this, the Shōgun also sat back, and his posture became rigid. “Is this how you speak to your lord, the father of your child?”

  The Lady exhaled and just as quickly as the fit of anger came upon her, so too did it depart. With a bow, she said, “I apologize for my outburst. But the matter is out of my hands.”

  The Shōgun’s eyes darkened, and now he rose, towering over the Lady who knelt before him. “Now it is you who lie! You sent one of your own to murder her, knowing that she is my charge. Your servants nearly killed my most trusted doctor in the process and made a mockery of this palace! Now I must ask that you heed me in this! For I am the Shōgun!”

  “So you are,” the Lady whispered, her pleasant voice strained as if pulled across the edge of a knife. Her head remained bowed, and her eyes were cast upon the floor.

  After several moments of tense silence, Mashige sat back down upon the dais. “Thank you,” he said tenderly. “I am only doing this for our family.” He reached out his hand and put it gently upon her shoulder. “Look at me, my…”

  At once, he removed his hand, as Ishihara had lifted her gaze, revealing eyes that were completely and utterly black.

  “You are the Shōgun, indeed!” she hissed, her face twisting in a horrific grin. Her teeth were no longer pristine and even, but black and jagged like bent nails. Her raven eyebrows had fallen off, and her luscious hair became thin and greasy.

  Revolted, the Shōgun lurched backward and gasped with horror at this sudden change.

  “Are you afraid of me, Hideyo?” she said with a laugh, crawling forward like a beast on four legs.

  “What are you doing?” he cried, putting his foot out as if to stop her. “Stop this! Stop this at once!”

  “Do you not know who I am? What I am?” her voice seemed to grow in both power and intensity, so that he felt her words reverberate within his chest. All the lamps in the room flickered and grew dark.

  “Forgive me!” the Shōgun cried out, cowering back, and being entangled within the sheets of his futon.

  “I have forgiven much, far too much,” Ishihara said rising to her feet as if some power from the ground was beneath her, supporting her. Her form once again resembled a beautiful maiden, though the belly which was once so clearly visible underneath her kimono was gone. The lamps in the room returned to their usual brightness. “I have forgiven much and for far too long. Years have I endured your line, the filthy Mashige, who were little more than rats before I met them. I have done nothing but elevate them, and yet I must ceaselessly endure their insolence. You speak to me as if the title ‘Shōgun’ gives you authority. Tell me, Hideyo, who gave you that title? Who gave you the Shadowhand when the Truists threatened to stamp out your first campaign before you even had a name? Who gave you victory at the Battle of Akasaka, when you were able to kill off your great enemy, Yoshimitsu Akira? Who has done all those things an immeasurably more, from before the time when you were born?”

  “Enough Lady!” the Shōgun said, positioning himself so that he was bowing before her. “You know I meant no malice. You may have the girl if you wish it so!”

  “I shall indeed,” she answered sternly. “And you will do well to remember who you speak to. Shōgun, you may be, but you are not my master!”

  The Shōgun knelt silently without stirring for several moments, but finally, he roused himself and stood. There were tears in his eyes.

  “Collect yourself!” the Lady commanded. “It is unseemly for the Lord of the Islands to be seen in such a pitiful state.”

  “You see me…” the Shōgun muttered, his face utterly wretched with sorrow. “And now I see you. I see that the child-filled belly that has been growing upon your frame is now gone.”

  The Lady looked down, and the bump in her kimono suddenly protruded outwards once again. “What do you mean?” she retorted. “It is right here.”

  “No,” the Shōgun said, shaking his head. “No! No! No!” His voice then turned shrill and violent. “You tricked me! You have used your powers of transformation to lead me on. In your wrath, you forgot yourself, Ishihara! Why would you do this to me? Why would you lie to me? Is there a child? Is there anything other than cruelty within you? Tell me, and do not lie!”

  For the first time in many days, the Lady was without an answer. Her silence was confirmation enough. The Shōgun fell to his knees and sobbed bitterly.

  This seemed to agitate the Lady all the more. “Stop it, you fool! Do not blame me for this! You were ignorant enough to believe that I, accursed as I am, would be capable of bringing forth life? You were so obsessed with having an heir that you let yourself believe what you knew to be false. I could not help but seize the opportunity.”

  “Is that all this ever was,” Mashige moaned, “An opportunity?”

  The Lady’s fists contracted, and she seemed to growl out an utterance. “The same as your father and his father before him.”

  “So, it is true!” the Shōgun gasped, “The bane of my house that my father forewarned me of is real. It is not a legend or fabrication; it is a person.”

  “Bane?” Ishihara shot back. “Take a look at yourself! I have given you the Shōgunate!”

  “But you have taken from me my child!” the Shōgun cried; a great fury seemed to glow in his eyes. He rose up to his full height and stepped forward violently.

  The Lady merely scoffed at this. “Kitsune!” she cried sharply, as a figure rose out of the shadows from behind her and collided with the Shōgun, throwing him back.

  “Behold my one true companion,” Ishihara said, motioning to the fully-grown tiger that pinned down the Shōgun upon the dais and was baring its formidable fangs mere inches from his throat. Steamy saliva dripped from its open maw onto his royal beard. “You are nothing more than a tool, Hideyo. It is time that you realized that. We had a cordial, perhaps even a pleasurable relationship up until now, but there is much work to be done, and I cannot worry about your shallow desires. You must realize the situation you are in and obey. If you cannot accept this, I shall destroy you.”

  Mashige, who was staring into the fiendish yellow eyes of the tiger and completely unable to move, managed to choke out the reply, “And will the Islands not miss its Shōgun? You will be discovered!”

  The Lady’s face changed into the image of the Shōgun, before returning to her own, which now wore a cruel smile on her black lips. “I think not.”

  Mashige arched his neck and groaned, as the weight of the tiger seemed to be crushing his chest, preventing him from being able to fill his lungs with air. “Guards!” he attempted to cry out, but his voice could not carry, and came out as a hoarse cough.

  “I have sent them away. Besides, I have just obliterated an armada of barbarians. Do you think that a few of your soldiers will be able to stop me?” Ishihara laughed, glaring pitifully at the restrained Shōgun. She let a few moments pass, as his eyes grew wide with the anxiety of imminent death. Finally, she said, “Enough, let him go.”

  Instantly, the tiger that had once been upon him changed into a slender fox with bright yellow eyes. It hopped off of him and ran over and stood by the Lady’s feet, eyeing him hungrily.

  “Now that you know all of my secrets, I hope you will agree to keep them. From now on, you belong to me, mind, body, and soul. Do as you are told, and you will reap the benefits. And if it is a child you are after, do not worry. I will find one for you.”

  At this, the Lady bowed. It was a short, almost mocking bow and she chucked as she did so. She then turned and made to exit the room. The fox at her feet kept pace with her, striding soundlessly along the tatami. As she reached out her arm for the sliding shoji door, the Shōgun interrupted her.

  “Nay, Lady. You are mistaken,” he said, managing to prop himself up on one arm.

  Ishihara stopped and paused. “What was that?” she growled.

  “You are right to say that I have been blind. After all I have been through, all I wanted was an heir to share in my achievements and to teach how to be a wise leader. My wars were indeed bloody, but I wanted their reign to be peaceful and prosperous. Though, now I see the foolishness in that. I already had a daughter, a beautiful child as you know, and I gave her up for my vain ambition. Now I can see that this is my just recompense. A man who has everything but can give it to no one. How pathetic.

  You are also correct in your description of my family. We have risen high on the backs of many who suffered. We have always taken the dark alleyways to success. We have made unholy compacts with evil men and monsters, of which you are chief. Can I say I regret it all? No, I cannot. And so, I am deserving of this frightful end.”

  “End?” Ishihara cried, whirling around violently.

  “Yes, Lady,” the Shōgun answered, reaching across the futon for his short sword, and staggering to his feet. “For though you were right about me in many things, you were wrong in one. I will not be a tool.”

  “Kitsune!” Ishihara began, but it was too late.

  In a split second, Mashige unsheathed his golden sword, plunged the blade into his stomach and rended it savagely. Blood seeped from his belly, but the Shōgun managed to stand even higher at that moment.

  “Behold…I am Hideyo of house Mashige…and I…shall not be…defeated.” He then closed his eyes and fell to his side, landing onto his futon with a thud.

  There was stark silence in the room for several moments.

  “The fool…” Ishihara said bitterly. “I still needed him in place. This will complicate matters. Henji will not be pleased.”

  Suddenly, hurried footsteps could be heard coming down the corridor towards them in the innermost chambers. A pang of anxiety washed across Ishihara, and her features grew tense.

  “A most inopportune time for such an interruption,” she whispered to Kitsune, and both turned and readied for violence. If these men entered the room at that moment, they would be horrified at the sight of their deceased lord and would surely try to kill or capture her for regicide. She could not let that happen.

  Several moments passed, and at last, the footsteps of two guards stopped just shy of the golden sliding doors. “Forgive us, my lord,” one of them cried. “You are no doubt indisposed at such an hour, but there has been an accident.”

  “What accident?” Ishihara returned, using the Shōgun’s voice instead of her own.

  “May we enter, my lord? It is a…unusual matter. There has been a breach in the Northern Bailey.”

  “Come not into this room. I wish not to be seen!” Ishihara replied hotly. “But explain yourself quickly. How was the Northern Baily breached, and by whom?”

  There was muffled confusion coming from the other side, as the two guards argued about how to best answer this query.

  “My lord,” one of them answered hesitantly. “This will sound strange to your ears. But it is being said that one of the gates was breached by…well…a demon…my lord.”

  Ishihara glanced down at Kitsune, who was still down by her feet. She had not taken the time to notice that her kami was indeed bleeding and was missing some tufts of hair from its normally pristine coat. It bowed its head to signify shame.

  Her eyes returned to the gilded door. “Where is the demon now?”

  “Gone, my lord.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “Some men said it was just a girl. Then, like that, she was a monster and broke through the gates and escaped the castle grounds. I know that it sounds absurd. My lord, if we could just speak to you in person, you will see that this is no jest.”

  “There is no need for that,” Ishihara shot back, her eyes glowing with wrath unparalleled. “Keep this story of yours quiet. I do not want to hear it uttered by anyone ever again. Repair the gate immediately. I will take care of this demon.”

  Startled, the two soldiers answered, “Yes, my lord!” before running back down the corridor.

  Ishihara slowly turned her head and inspected the body of the Shōgun, and then looked down at her kami balefully. “That girl…”