Poison River Read online

  Legend of the Five Rings

  The realm of Rokugan is a land of samurai, courtiers, and mystics, dragons, magic, and divine beings – a world where honor is stronger than steel.

  The Seven Great Clans have defended and served the Emperor of the Emerald Empire for a thousand years, in battle and at the imperial court. While conflict and political intrigue divide the clans, the true threat awaits in the darkness of the Shadowlands, behind the vast Kaiu Wall. There, in the twisted wastelands, an evil corruption endlessly seeks the downfall of the empire.

  The rules of Rokugani society are strict. Uphold your honor, lest you lose everything in pursuit of glory.

  First published by Aconyte Books in 2020

  ISBN 978 1 83908 019 7

  Ebook ISBN 978 1 83908 020 3

  Copyright © 2020 Fantasy Flight Games

  All rights reserved. Aconyte and the Aconyte icon are registered trademarks of Asmodee Group SA. Legend of the Five Rings and the FFG logo are trademarks or registered trademarks of Fantasy Flight Games.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  Cover art by John Anthony di Giovanni

  Rokugan map by Francesca Baerald

  Distributed in North America by Simon & Schuster Inc, New York, USA

  ACONYTE BOOKS

  An imprint of Asmodee Entertainment Ltd

  Mercury House, Shipstones Business Centre

  North Gate, Nottingham NG7 7FN, UK

  aconytebooks.com // twitter.com/aconytebooks

  For Lottie, without whom this book would not be half as good. And for Erik, without whom I would never have attempted to write this book in the first place.

  Chapter One

  Daidoji Shin

  “Cheater!”

  A fist came down, punctuating the accusation. Dice rattled on the table.

  Daidoji Shin looked up from the game board, his expression mild. “Yes,” he said. “I most humbly agree with your assessment.”

  His accuser paused in shock. The man had the rough-edged look of a sailor; perhaps one of those who plied the harsh waters of the Drowned Merchant River. But the way he handled the gaming tiles spoke to a secondary profession – that of gambler. It took quick hands and a keen mind to make a living that way. Sadly, he appeared to possess the one quality but possibly not the other. “You… admit it?” he grunted.

  Shin, in contrast to his accuser, was tall and willowy. His robes were of no particular color and bore no insignia. His white hair had been daubed in oil and ashes, so as to look black in the dim light. The disguise was more for tradition’s sake than anything else.

  Those of the Crane were expected to make some small effort to hide their origins when they frequented places such as this. It made the lower orders more comfortable if they could pretend they were dicing with a fellow commoner, rather than a scion of one of the Great Clans. Though he was somewhat estranged at the moment. A little matter of an illicit rendezvous, soon to be cleared up he was certain. And if not, well, there were worse fates than being estranged.

  He studied his accuser. “That you are a cheater? I do not see how one can deny it. But I thought it rude to say anything, seeing as how I am a newcomer to this fine establishment. I assumed it was a – a test of sorts. Bit of a joke on the new player.” He looked around the gambling den, as if to assure himself of this supposition.

  It was an ugly little knot of a place, as such houses of vice often were. In Shin’s opinion, the uglier the better. Pretty facades were for tradesmen. For one such as himself, gilt and glamour were little more than distractions for the senses. He longed for a spot of discordance in his otherwise orderly existence.

  It consisted of a single room, built around a central fire-pit. The air was thick with smoke, the stink of spilled sake and the odor of rotting fish. The slap of water against the wharfs could be heard in the occasional lull of voices and music. Tables and benches were crowded with gamblers and hangers-on. Dice rattled and tiles clacked.

  Shin’s accuser hesitated, parsing the sudden flow of words. “I’m not the cheater here. You are.” His hand dropped meaningfully to the knife sheathed at his side. Shin’s serene gaze flicked to the blade, and then back. His expression did not change.

  “A meritless accusation. And somewhat unfair, given that I am merely playing by the rules you established. Perhaps you wish to reconsider?” Shin smiled. “Come, I will even buy you a drink. In fact, drinks all around!” There was a murmur of appreciation from around the room at this show of generosity. The other men at the table nodded.

  “No. I don’t drink with cheaters.”

  “Then you’ll be drinking alone, for we’re all equally guilty I fear.” Shin looked around speculatively, but none of the other players met his gaze. He nodded in satisfaction. “As I thought.” He looked back at his accuser. “You see? Now sit. We will continue, and may the most cunning cheat win.”

  His accuser stared at him. Shin could read the other man’s face as easily as a scribe might read a book. There was anger there, but mostly consternation. This was not going how his accuser had foreseen. Shin suspected that this scene had almost certainly occurred with regularity in this establishment – accuse the newcomer, demand compensation and send them packing before they realized what had happened. A good game, and profitable.

  But Shin was not interested in that sort of game tonight. He felt a tremor of obstreperousness deep within himself. It was a familiar sensation – an urge to be contrary. It was an affliction of the mind and soul that had gripped him since his youth, putting him ever at odds with his family, and it showed no signs of lessening with age.

  He studied his accuser and allowed himself a smile. It was the sort of smile that a foolish man could not help but see as provocation. His accuser reacted as he expected. The hand on the knife clenched and the blade came free with a savage whisper. The gambling den fell silent in an instant.

  Shin rose. His accuser halted, uncertain. Shin spread his hands to show that he carried no blade. A man with a sword was more likely to get into trouble than a man without, to Shin’s way of thinking. He hadn’t even brought his wakizashi. “Think carefully now,” he said. “Is spilling my guts really what you want to do?”

  The attack was clumsy, untrained. The gambler was a brawler, skills honed in back-alley skirmishes. Shin, however, had been trained by some of the finest warriors in Rokugan – when it had suited him to pay attention to their lessons. He stepped back, caught his seat up without looking and whipped it around between them. The knife lodged deep in the wood, and it was a simple matter to send both chair and blade crashing out of reach with a flick of his wrists. The gambler hesitated, eyes widening.

  That moment of reflection was his undoing. Shin slapped him on the nose, not hard, but firmly. The way one might discipline an unruly animal. The gambler stumbled back, clutching at his face. Shin did not pursue. “Let that be an end to it,” he
said, loudly. “Else I might begin to take offense.”

  All eyes were on the confrontation now. Some more hostile than others. Benches and stools scraped back across the dirt floor, and men rose. Five of them. They were rough-looking and well-armed for their surroundings, with knives, axes and one spear.

  Shin frowned. The odds were no longer in his favor. It was time to make a rapid, yet elegant, retreat – something he’d done more than once over the years. As the men advanced on him, he shoved aside one of his fellow players, snatched up the man’s chair and slung it towards the approaching thugs. Then he turned and ran. He heard a crash and shouts, but didn’t look back. He went out the door, sliding in the muck of the street as he fought for balance.

  Dogs barked and someone cried out from a nearby doorway as he raced down the narrow alley towards the river. This part of the city was a warren of crooked streets and stalls, the last vestige of the humble fishing village it had once been. It was early morning, and even the river birds were still asleep.

  He turned a tight corner onto a side-street, following the sound of water, and slid to a stop. A figure waited for him at the other end, illuminated by the lanterns strung across the mouth of the street. She was clad in lacquered armor the color of stormy skies and bore two blades sheathed at her side – katana and wakizashi. Her face was uncovered, and her hair bound atop her head. Her expression was, as ever, disapproving.

  “You are an idiot,” she said, sternly.

  Shin smiled. “Hello, Kasami. I thought you were sleeping.”

  Her expression became thunderous. Hiramori Kasami had been born in the Uebe marshes, daughter of a vassal family. But the Crane were not ones to let a simple accident of birth obfuscate potential. She was now a blade of the clan, honed to a killing edge. A fact that was evident even to the most foolish of men. She was also his bodyguard, something that no doubt pained her to no end. “Is that why you chose to sneak out without alerting me?” she demanded.

  Shin shrugged. “Well, that, and I knew you’d try and stop me.”

  She made a sound low in her throat, somewhere between a sigh and a growl. “How can I protect you if you insist on leaving me behind?”

  “Did it ever occur to you that might be the point of these excursions?” Shin turned at the sound of running footsteps. “Either way, you’ll be happy to know I’ve reconsidered. You may resume your duties now.”

  Kasami’s reply was lost in the blistering torrent of curses that heralded the arrival of the gambler and his associates. The newcomers slid to an undignified halt as Kasami drew her katana and fell into a ready stance. The sight of the blade silenced them.

  The gambler pushed his way to the fore and stopped, a perplexed look on his face. He looked from Shin to Kasami in growing realization. That someone like her was here now implied that Shin was no mere mark for the taking, but someone of substance. Someone who had seen his face, and those of his comrades. Shin watched the look of calculation on the man’s face become one of fear. He went pale, and took a half-step back. Kasami’s gaze fell on him with predatory focus, and he froze.

  “I did warn you,” Shin said. “But some men’s ears are closed, even to the whisper of fortune.” He smiled thinly. “Kill… three of them. That will serve as an object lesson, I think.”

  She glanced at him. “No.”

  “Very well. Kill all of them.”

  She stepped back and sheathed her sword without flourish. “If you want them dead, do it yourself. I’m not here to clean up after you.”

  “But you are here to keep me alive. And they do intend to murder me.”

  “Looks to me like you provoked them.”

  Shin frowned. “I am your lord, you know.”

  “No. Your grandfather is my lord. You are my burden.”

  Shin’s expression became one of injured innocence. “Well that’s just hurtful, Kasami. And after all my efforts to show you a good time since we arrived…”

  She snorted and leaned back against the wall of the street, her hand resting atop the hilt of her blade. She looked at the gambler and gestured. “Well? Have at it.”

  The gambler and his associates had been watching this interaction with bemusement. Now they looked at one another, uncertain as to how to proceed. Sympathetic to their situation, Shin decided to lend his counsel. “She won’t interfere, of that you may be certain. She’s quite serious about all of this, more’s the pity.” He held up a finger in warning. “But, should something untoward happen to my person, she may well take offense.”

  Kasami nodded. “It would be my duty – as well as my pleasure – to avenge you.” Her smile was as sharp and as cold as a sword’s edge.

  Shin spread his hands. “There. You see?”

  The gambler licked his lips, considering the matter. But, once again, he proved himself a fool. “There’s only two of them. Kill them both. Then we’re in the clear.”

  Shin glanced at Kasami. She sighed and stepped away from the wall, loosening her blade in its scabbard. He turned, and the gambler came for him in a rush. Shin sidestepped and drove the stiffened edge of his hand into the back of the man’s neck. The gambler fell in a heap, the knife clattering from his grip. Shin scooped it up and whirled – but there was no need for haste. Kasami, as ever, had the matter well in hand.

  She twitched her blade, freeing it of blood. Four of the gambler’s associates were dead in as many moments. The fifth, merely injured. But from the look of him, he would not last the night. He sat against the wall, face waxen, arms tight about a belly threatening to spill its contents onto the filthy street. Shin sighed. “I thought you weren’t going to kill them.”

  “I had little choice.” She turned and looked down at the gambler. “What about him?”

  Shin tossed aside the knife. “I think he’s learned his lesson.” He crouched beside the other man and prodded him with a finger. “Haven’t you?”

  The gambler whimpered. Shin poked him again. “What’s your name?”

  “K- Kitano,” the gambler stuttered. He stared at the remains of his associates, already attracting flies. “Don’t… don’t kill me, my lord, please.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it, Kitano. But Kasami is quite adamant on the subject of leaving witnesses.” Shin leaned close. “That said, one might be able to make an exception if an individual were to, say, make himself of use. Do you understand?”

  Kitano swallowed and nodded. “Y- yes.”

  “Good man. A word of warning – I wouldn’t make yourself difficult to locate, when next I come calling. Kasami might lose patience and you wouldn’t want that…” Shin gave the bodies a meaningful glance. Kitano nodded jerkily. Shin rose to his feet.

  “Enjoy the rest of your night. And my thanks for a most entertaining evening.”

  Chapter Two

  Deliveries and Demands

  The teahouse had no name. It sat alone on a narrow, stinking street opposite the Unicorn docks, and catered to a very small clientele. To find it, you had to know where it was. To know where it was, you had to be invited by the owner.

  Captain Lun had received an invitation years ago, though she’d rarely had the inclination to visit. She preferred stronger spirits. She studied the teahouse with her good eye from across the street. The sun was a pale pink streak along the edge of the rooftops and the evening mist receded, stripping the streets bare. She could hear the sounds of the city waking up – or, in some cases, going to sleep.

  The merchant had asked her to come the morning after delivery for the rest of her payment, and she was impatient to collect it and be away. A boat was no good to anyone in its berth. It was only profitable in motion. Much like its crew, and its captain.

  Lun dressed like a common sailor, despite her rank – bare feet, bare arms, and her hair cropped short. She’d learned early on that advertising rank was a bad idea. She touched her patch, her fingers trailing down to
the scars that marked her cheek like cracks in porcelain. The eye was lesson enough. She’d had no desire to lose anything else.

  “I hate this place,” her bosun, Torun, muttered. Torun was a short man, and round like a statue of Hotei, the Fortune of Contentment. Despite his appearance, Torun was not especially jolly or friendly. But he got the best out of the crew of trash she was forced to ride the river with.

  “But you like being paid,” Lun said, without looking at him. She scratched the inside of her wrist where a faded tattoo of a crane’s feather marked her sun-browned skin. Like her eye, it was a memento of a simpler time.

  Torun grunted. “There is that.” He leaned over and spat onto the street. “You should have gone out with us last night.”

  “I like to keep my money close, not gamble it away.”

  “Some pretty bird from one of the clans showed his face. Nearly got it stomped in, too. Shame, as he was winning up until then.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “No clue. Probably dead in an alley, somewhere. Or floating in the river.”

  “Good.” Lun pushed away from the wall where she’d been leaning. “Wait here.”

  “Are you certain?”

  She glanced at him. “Worried about me, or the money?”

  Torun grinned. “Why not both?”

  Lun snorted and shook her head. “Stay here, Torun. Keep an eye on the street.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  She made her way across the street, bare feet splashing heedlessly through puddles. She kept one hand on her sword as she ducked through the curtain and went inside. The sharkskin hilt was a comfort. The blade was solid. Reliable. A marine’s blade, meant for bloody work in close quarters.

  Lun had been a marine, once. A soldier. She had thought there was nothing better than to serve her masters. To fight in their name, for the glory of the Crane. But experience had cured her of that particular foolishness. She’d learned that it wasn’t the samurai who went hungry, who stumbled barefoot through snowy passes and along rainy roads. It wasn’t samurai who were left screaming on the deck of a burning ship, an arrow jutting from their head. It wasn’t samurai who died, and died, and died.