“‘What, pray tell, is your wealth?’ I asked him. The old man was thinner than parchment, but he invited me in, poured me a cup of watery broth, and told me he was the wealthiest man in the world.” Living in a barren hovel out on the steppe, on the brink of starvation. Altansarnai’s breath manifested as a cloud as she broke the silence. Perhaps she could at least take Tsanuri’s mind off the intense cold. There would be time to mend and heal later, but not until Ujiaki paid for his perfidy. Altansarnai’s heart tightened at the thought of Tsanuri’s mother and her failed suicide attempt, the mock marriage arrangement the entire bloody feud had been orchestrated by Ambassador Ikoma.
Tsanuri shivered, almost imperceptibly, as a cutting breeze tore across the wintry field. The blood price of Ambassador Ikoma’s conspiracy was beyond reckoning. And even in the brief hours the Unicorn Champion had taken to sleep, the revelation of Ikoma Ujiaki’s subterfuge-the impossible marriage, and the endless, fruitless feud between Lion and Unicorn-had eaten away any rest or repose.
The night prior had been mayhem as two previously warring clans struggled to realign themselves to fight side by side. The delicately molded barding on Tsanuri’s steed were traced with frost patterns how cold the poor mare-and its rider-seemed to be without the warm woolen wrappings of Unicorn riders.Īltansarnai’s mind was foggy from lack of sleep. Faint lines traced her features, hinting at years of worry and care. At the head of a long line of cavalry, Shinjo Altansarnai’s face was drawn in stony resolve. As the morning ripened, Lady Sun cast the lines of Crane, Lion, Phoenix, Scorpion, and Unicorn samurai riding together in a blood-red silhouette before the dour clouds blanketed the scene in an otherworldly chill. Sunrise cut through grey morning clouds, coloring the snowy fields a brilliant crimson. 1 8 th Day of the Month of Hida, 1123, outside of Toshi Ranbo
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