The Gaming Outpost

Daregami rose from his rose-scented bath water, and let his servants dry, robe, and lay on the evening makeup which was pale yellow with gold bars as highlights on his jowly face.  He was pleased this half-day for his favorite geisha had visited him, and his eldest daughter, the Divine Meioki had come back for summer break from her training in the priestly ways at the Temple of Montigiuri.

He proceeded out from his private rooms, attended by a small coterie of courtiers, only eleven, and twenty samurai.  And it was thus that he met the Divine Meioki and her party in the wide hallway necessitated by all the guards each had.  She prostrated herself, which was unneccessary, and begged leave to come to him.

Smiling, he gave it.  Truly, Meio was his chosen child of the twenty-seven he had borne.  She ran to him, and hugged him about the seven layer Robe of State that turned his substantial paunch into a hill.

“I missed you Father.”

“And I you, daughter. I you. You said you had an entertainment for me?”

He smiled brightly at her, hoping for some of her cherry rice soup, and her poetry.  Princes had travelled a thousand miles merely to listen to her poetry.

“I will take you to the Temple of Siudir, there to see a ceremony.” She said, and he smiled but more politically.  Inside, he sighed.  He hoped his daughter did not become so overcome with her devotion to Amateratsu that she forget her old joys.

“And on the way, Father, I thought I might whisper to you one or two of the latest poems, I have made.  If that were alright.”  She said, casting her eyes down demurely.

“Clever fox.” He said softly as he had when he bounced her on his knee when she still lived in the Noble Child’s House.

And so the two of them walked side by side, surrounded by a sphere of guards, and an orbit of attendants, and a further sphere of outer protection through the streets of Hildegami, so named for Daregami’s illustrious ancestor.

In his father’s time, Daregami reflected after listening to the first of his daughter’s poems, only two guards had been needed.  And his father had been a war leader, who had broken the barbarians of the East by long and cunning war.

A few of the traditional beggars approached, and Daregami listened to their requests with patience.  Being a Gami was all about patience.  He then acted surprised and horrified that any in his kingdom were in want, and gave ten coins of heavy gold to the beggars.

Unfortunately, he knew that the beggars were but a few of the many who lacked bread.  Worse, he knew that thugs waited in the shadows with the beggars wives at the point of knives so that all he really was doing was giving the local crime lord for this street a tribute.  Worst still, his vaults were nearly empty, and without the loans of gold from the barbarians to the East, he would not have the money to pay his samurai, much less toss gold out in the street.

He told this to his daughter as they walked further and she nodded.

“Why not stop then?”

“If I stop, the dance stops. The dreamers awake, and realize they are in rags. While I smile and laugh, the dance continues even far into the dark of night.”

She nodded, understanding, and that was what he truly loved about her.

She did not say as Hidori would ‘we will fix this, father’ for there was no fixing it.  Too many of the powerful would be destroyed by the reforms needed, and the powerful thought to escape by sea from the coming cataclysm, at least the wise among them did, but Daregami wondered how many of those there truly were.

“Great Lord.” Tasaka, Chief of the Imperial Ports, greeted him (and he had a retinue only one small than his master’s which was rude, but not so blatant as to enable the Gami to demand his head.) at the entrance to Siudrin Temple, a small, out of the way temple.

Daregami affected not to notice him, and so Tasaka did as he had ‘forgotten’ to do.  He prostrated himself.  Daregami let him lay in the street in his fine silks for several minutes as the Gami was suddenly affected by a coughing spell, or so it seemed.

Upon recovery, he smiled at the master of the sailor’s guild, a man who at a word could call out ten thousand armed sailors to burn any port in the Empire, and then have them vanish back into the seamists with almost credible stories of a pirate attack left in their wake.

“Please rise, old friend.” Daregami said.

Tasaka did so, but stiffly, his wounds from the old war paining him. It was with repressed relish that he spoke.

“My lord, I sorrow to tell you that the Imperial Yacht has run aground. The Flower of Silk is in grave danger.  And because of the terrible cuts you proposed in the last month’s stipend, I can find no sailors to rescue her.”

Daregami sucked in his breath.  He loved that yacht, and Tasaka knew it well. Brute! Worse, many faithful attendants were on board.  And so the game continued.  If the yacht sank, it would be seen as an omen of bad fortune by the common folk.

Tasaka had warned him that it was unwise last month for him to refuse the fifty percent rise in month stipend pay that the sailors received whether they worked or not that the guild had called ‘neccesary to keep our sailors from starving’.  Considering that those same sailors made more money in a month than most peasants made in a year, and the first mates of ships made as much as the marcher lords could pull in from a county, Daregami had thought to refuse their demand for more money from his empty vaults.

And now this.  The next piece was played.

Daregami realized that he was well and truly trapped.  There was no way out.  In the end, perhaps a years time, he would be forced to apologize to his ancestors by way of hari-kari for what his treacherous and corrupt underlings had forced him to do.  If not, who knew what horror the Sailor’s Guild would unleash on his nation. He would go down in history as a failure, and the greedy fools who had driven him there would take over his kingdom, and have statues in their honor.

It sickened him, and he turned aside rather than look on Tasaka’s rose tinted face with its cruel complacency, and its lack of understanding.  The fool knew not what fires he played with.  In his lust, he might well shatter the Empire into civil war with cities burning and barbarians invading.

“My lord.” Tasaka stepped into his path, which was again very rude, and his samurai clattered their sheathes, but Tasaka’s samurai clattered theirs back, which was really over the line.  But Daregami could not think to care, he was so lost in his pain.  He raised a hand to give the importuning fellow what he wanted, and Meioki caught the hand.

“We must go into the Temple for the ceremony father.”

“Silence, girl.”

There was a cold moment, and Daregami raised his head slightly from his misery as nothing seemed to happen, and he was curious.  And then a hard crunch, and the Divine Meioki’s metal fan smashed into the side of Tasaka’s face drawing blood.

“I forgive you, Tasaka.  No doubt the strain of your position has strained your eyes so that you did not realize you were talking to an Imperial Princess.  Make sure to get a new set of glasses.”

The Divine Meioki stared down coldly at the Tasaka fellow, and one could easily remember that her ancestors had ruled this land for five hundred years, while Tasaka’s clan was new raised but a hundred years ago.  He flushed, bit his lip, and then gave a stiff, and very shallow bow.

“My…my apologies, Princess.  I will remember this lesson well, in the future.”  Daregami found himself standing taller, and he too stared at the man.

“See that you remember all of the lesson and its implications, most clearly.” Daregami said, answering threat for threat.  Tasaka bowed, seven times, as he retreated, and would have left, but Meioki gaily called on him to follow.

And so the trio and their nearly fifty samurai and attendants went into the Siudrin Temple.  It was a small, dark place, framed of heavy, black wood, and the abbot in charge was near falling over at the great honor bestowed upon him, even if he had been warned of this.

The abbot led them through the main hall, and out into the central courtyard so that the two groups of samurai, the Gami and his daughter versus the Imperial Port Inspector’s could glare at each other with sufficient space to put some real spin and verve on their sneers.

It was then that the abbot began his speech, and in truth it was a speech.  It was not the sermon that the Daregami had been expecting.  It was about deliverance, about a prophesied saviour who would deliver the Empire, and how he would come here and now.

The Daregami sighed, but listened politely.

A dozen monks came out, and began to swing their censers of smoke, to chant in their ancient secret language, and even the Gami felt impressed.  He knew of magic, but it was a rare thing, and he could feel the power building.  Perhaps some useful fellow might be anointed with power and help things out for a bit before he was assasinated?

That would be nice.  Of course, the Divine Meioki hung on every phrase.

“I studied this ceremony in the Temple.  Its very ancient, goes back to the first Gami.  You remember the tales of the Swordshatterer?”

Who did not? Daregami indicated with a slight quirk of his mouth under the makeup.  The first Gami had a helper, a man of tremendous power…

WHOOF.

Air exploded backwards, and in the center of the courtyard a skinny little fellow was standing.  He looked up from some device in his hand, and grunted, and spoke in a barbarian tongue.

The abbot came up to him, even as all the samurai had drawn their blades in readiness for they knew not what.  The abbot touched the strange man in his drab clothes, without proper makeup, and suddenly the stranger spoke in a civilized tongue.

“What on Earth? Oh, well, obviously, not Earth.”  The voice was nasal and high, and still a bit stunned.

“He is no great warrior.” Tasaka laughed, and you could hear the note of relief in his voice.

“NO…warrior. No, definitely not. What I am sir, is an accountant.  And I would like to know why I have been summoned.  I was busy totting up the tax receipts of the Galactic Emperor…”

“Arrest this fool.” Tasaka ordered, but Daregami at Meioki’s urging (although he needed little enough) countermanded that order impatiently.  The Daregami drew near to this strange one, with his weak muscles, and stringy hair, and spoke.

“Last time this spell was cast, my far ancestor got himself a great warrior.  But this time, I get you.”

“I’m going to assume, ah, sir, that you’re in deep, deep trouble if you’re casting spells for help from outside the universe?”  The ‘accountant’ looked keenly into the Daregami’s eyes which was an impertinence, but the Daregami found himself liking it.

“Do not listen to this fool.” Tasaka said.

“Look pal, I’ve about had it up to here with your attitude.” The accountant said sharply to Tasaka who drew back in shock.

The Daregami caught the barbarian’s sleeve, and when he had his attention, nodded very slightly.  The ‘accountant’s’ eyes narrowed, and he closed his eyes.

He opened them, and looked at Tasaka.

“You owe the Crown 11,895 Imperial Marks in good quality gold, not debased currency like your little counterfeiting operation…”

Tasaka screamed and lunged at the accountant who merely stood there, and then there was a bright, blue flash, and Tasaka was gone.  Everyone rubbed their eyes, and drew back in fear.

“My master, the Galactic Emperor would no doubt be pleased to aid his brother, the Mighty Daregami.” The accountant said, clearly drawing upon lessons taught to him by some courtier. “I came by my skill with numbers by my birth, and by training as a CPA, a master of money owed and received, and I was taught by a great lady how to read the minds of those about me, which pleased my master, the Galactic Emperor greatly.  But he noticed that some assasin might try to kill me, so he gave me this.”

The accountant raised his right hand upon which set a ring of some peculiar metal, finely engraved with a skill past that of the best of the Daregami’s artificers.

“Anyone who chooses to attack me will find themselves conversing with their honorable ancestors in a lightning flash. In the meantime, if the honorable Daregami wishes it, I might begin by restoring soundness to the Empire’s accounts, end the debasing of the currency, cause the various means of corruption to cease, and teach the Empire about the virtues of limited government as an antidote to this type of rampant corruption you face.”

He bowed low to the Daregami who bowed shallowly back, but then the Daregami almost never bowed back to anyone so it was a signal honor.

“If the Daregami is pleased, that is.”

“I am most pleased, and pleased with the Divine Meioki as well.” The Daregami said majestically which was spoiled by the accountant’s mutter.

“Whew, she is hot, isn’t she?”  Which made little sense to the Daregami, but from his daughter’s intake of breath he realized he might have been replaced as number one man in his daughter’s affections.

So, I lose a daughter, but gain back my kingdom. Truly, Amateratsu is wise to have drawn my daughter to her temple, the Daregami thought.