The Lords Ikeda (priv)

    The forest stretched for several kilometers on the mountain foothills before opening up into a vast plain on the valley floor. A single river split the valley in two, and the valley was flanked by high snow capped mountains blanketed in fir trees. Villages dotted either side of the river, where long plumes of smoke snaked high out of the chimneys of huts, boats slipped on the river and peasants crafted their goods and skinned animals for furs. Edo-like keeps stand resolute near the villages, where men drilled and trained and hunted on their outskirts. In the far distance, standing where the river became a delta that fed into a massive lake, sprawled the fourth largest city in the north. The city was a maze of wood and paper houses, slums, factories, businesses, and a vast harbour. A monolithic high cliff stood as one of the islands in the river delta, and upon the cliff island stood a ring of grey stone wall that surrounded two massive twin keeps that stood on opposite ends of the island. The only entrance to the castle was a bridge from the city sealed at both ends by gatehouses. The bridge lead to a path that wrapped around the cliffs to the opposite side of island, leading to a gatehouse on the walls, the path up was in turn was covered in a near dozen more gatehouses. This is the fortress that was the seat of the Ikeda, simply known as 'the Rock.' This was North Rukongai District number 74, Ginnokuni.

    Mihri traveled a simple dirt road that meandered toward the gate of the city. Before her stood the high grey walls of imposing stone that curved around the cityscape. The wall was spaced intermediately with crenelations, towers and hundreds of arrow slits. On Mihri's left the river flowed lazily toward the wall that became a grated canal where the wall met the water. On her right, small business, huts and farms sparsely populated the field that lead to the main city gate. As Mihri approached the gate, she noticed something strange. The gate was closed and the portcullis was lowered. Rarely did this occur, Mihri knew that the gate would only be sealed if there were enemy warbands about. She glanced over her shoulder, and looked around the outskirt village. All seemed to carry on as normal, she could the archers on the walls, watching and waiting with docked arrows. They were expecting something.

    Then Mihri heard a twang, the unmistakable sound of a loosed bowstring, and the shriek of a flying arrow. Her horse reared when an arrow struck the ground before it.

    Mihri gave her brother a playful shove when she broke from his embrace,  “My horse almost threw me off! I wonder what you’d have done if I had broken my neck. What if you had missed, and shot me?” Said Mihri, smirking.

    “I don't miss.” Serwyn threw back, smiling, "It's good to see you, sis."

    "And you, brother." Mihri smiled warmly.

    “Father said he wanted to see you right away when you got home. So fly to the nest, little bird.” He said with a mocking tone, gesturing his hands like flapping wings as he told her to fly away. “The lads’ll be hittin’ the Rooster tonight, you in?”

    Mihri nodded. A night of drinks with her brothers sounded just what she needed. “Naturally.” Mihri replied, “But I shan’t keep father waiting.” The siblings exchanged a nod, and parted ways.

    Mihri very much wanted to see her family. She wanted to see her sister Ilia, and her other three brothers, Vessarian, Arin, and Mikon. It had been a long time since last she came to Ginnokuni. Near three years, far too long, Mihri thought. She only ever wrote to Ilia, and what she sent was rare, containing little more than pleasantries. The Seireitei had become more and more her home the last two centuries. Rarely could Mihri find the time to come to Ginnokuni, and only for short visits, only sparing her family what details of her duties weren't classified. It pained her. That she had to be so far from her family, her house, and the lands rightfully hers, so far from her true strength.

    Mihri weaved through the city streets towards the castle. The sun drifted lazily east in a cloudless sky, touching the city with the first warm rays of summer. It was late afternoon, and the city streets were buzzing. Many people would be returning home from work, many shops shutting for the day or having peak sales, packing the city with bodies. Mihri seemed to stand out among them, a shinigami wearing all black, holding the red sheathe that contained a longsword over her shoulder by the strap, a rucksack tucked under her other arm. Some passersby glared at her, murmuring insults that they thought could deceive her ears. Some recognized her, bidding a fond 'Good day, m'lady,' Mihri returned each greeting politely, and dismissed the rest. Approaching the bridge to the castle, she found every gate barred as the city had been. The guards, dressed in mail adorned with the falcon sigil of House Ikeda, bid her a fond welcome.

    The castle seemed to be set as much in the monolithic rock as on it. Up close one could see that the keeps were flushed to the cliff, the only barrier between the high balconies and the water of the river delta being air. The keeps had tunnels and rooms sunk deep inside the cliff, some abandoned to the centuries. After one passed through the dozen gatehouses, one entered a tunnel that carved a ramp inside the rock. The tunnel contained a further two gatehouses, the ramp lead to a final gatehouse that opened up into the castle town on the cliff's flat top. The Rock was defended near to the point of paranoia, to take the fortress an invading force would first have to siege the city, then face the gauntlet that was The Rock. The Rock had only ever been taken once in its history, however achieving this feat had required a captain's bankai.

    Mihri emerged into the castle town, it too was abuzz. The Ikeda's castle was opulent and crowded with well-to-do people. The houses and businesses were bunched close together, erected with quality materials, trimmed with fine fabrics and silver. Businesses in the castle sold expensive wares, and bartered with only the wealthiest clientele. The last gate opened into a large market square, where shops had their doors opened and windows lit for browsing. Merchants crowded the square in shabby wooden stalls, or the wealthiest sold their goods from carriages. A marble fountain sat the center of square, a plinth carved into the falcon sigil of House Ikeda, surrounded by a pool of water that shot up long lines of liquid at coordinated intervals.

    The castle's people were not like the city. When Mihri entered, the first man to see her fell to his knees, bowing as low as his body could allow while keeping dignity. Mihri seemed to pay him no mind, as she walked towards the lwestern keep. As she walked, a group of guards formed around her, eight of them, four before her and four behind. Her entourage moved slowly through the streets of the castle, crowds parting and falling to their knees as she passed. Another wall and a gate divided the castle town and courtyard of the western keep. The garden was lined with neatly trimmed shrub and buses of bright flowers. Statues of heroes, marble fountains and artwork, all tentatively cared for by a small army of gardeners. As the procession came through the gate into the courtyard, Mihri heard a woman's voice call after her.

    "Mihri! you're home!" Called the woman from a bench near the gate. She was a fair beauty, her hair hung in ebony curls that extended to the small of her back. Sky blue eyes flecked silver set in a slender face that had not a single blemish; her 'appeal' rather generous. She wore a dress of black that matched her hair, trimmed with white frills and a white bow was tied around her waist. The woman grabbed a pair of short metal crutches that lay on the bench beside her and, beaming with a joyous smile, shakily used the crutches to stand up. Even hidden behind her dress, the woman walked with a gangling gait. The woman, as fast as the crutches would allow, raced toward Mihri, immediately dropping the crutches to embrace her beloved sister.

    

    Mihri had bathed perhaps longer than she should have. A long journey and a longer mission before that had left her bones weary, she was content soaking them of their woes. When she had emerged from the tub a servant dressed Mihri in a black velvet doublet and trousers trimmed in silver. The servant fastened a brooch of the family sigil onto the breast. Over her right arm hung a teal blue shoulder cape also adorned with the Ikeda’s falcon emblem; and her sword was tucked into a leather belt at her left side. Mihri's hair was tied up in a bun, with only a few strands dangling into her face here and there. Mihri was not, per se, dressed like a lady. She was dressed like a lord.

    “...not only in your ward, but just outside the city rangers have captured three parties this last fortnight alone.” Mihri heard a familiar voice speaking as she silently came through the door of her father’s solar.

    The solar was richly adorned with paintings, tapestries and fine wooden furniture. A long mahogany table stretched in the middle of the room, large enough to seat twenty men, with food atop it to feed even more than twenty. A high backed throne stood at the place of honor. There were a total of seven people, a cabal of lords and ladies, sitting at the table; all of them dressed in rich fabrics or Shihaksho. A tall man with shoulder length black hair, stood before a crackling hearth at the far side of the room. He wore a black velvet tunic trimmed with silver that came to his knees in a split tail. The man was silent, for now listening, only listening. Mihri sneaked into the seat to the right hand of throne, taking care to not disrupt the discussion.

    A shinigami seated left of the throne, a stout young man with stone-like features a beard and bald head continued speaking, "The lord of Zaraki has posted to the gallows a few dozen that have crossed the border from beyond the districts. They've been hit by raiders too. My contacts in the district report refugees in the slums, crowding the hovels." The shinigami shrugged. "My guy says they're just villagers, from the tribes beyond the district borders. Running from something. Couldn't say what."

    The Shinigami then nodded to Mihri, "Hey Mihri. Been a while."

    Mihri smiled. "Good to see you, Arin. You were saying?"

    Her brother opened his mouth to speak, before an elderly lady near the middle of the table spoke first, "For what reason would those savages violate the oaths of their forefathers? I've said already, it doesn't matter. They're Ryoka. They need to be eliminated before they join the Reavers and start raiding with renewed vigor. The Konpaku in the lower wards are ever so vulnerable."
   
    A plump baron opposite her agreed with a nod, "Quite right. Keeping the lower wards secure should be a top priority, what with the mines and all."

    Two seats to the plump man's left, a man wearing a shihaksho under a colorful haori spoke loudly, "What of the keeps, dammit? Want to hold the lower wards against Reavers? Reinforce the damn keeps."

    The man by the hearth spun around quickly, locking a set of pale blue eyes burning with reiryoku onto the lords and ladies at the table. He seemed to pause for a moment, looking and listening. The lords continued their discussion, beginning to bicker before noticing the man's gaze. They quieted immediately, as the long haired man approached and sat the throne. He did not slouch, he sat tall. His long face was rounded fair and handsome, he looked a man in his forties. Clean shaven, weathered by age and battle, his face looked constantly solemn as if he had just witnessed death. Lord Iwan Ikeda was an imposing master, his very gaze casting a shadow of fear and obedience over his lords gathered.