Masters Of Court

[Vutall]

Masters Of Court
Warriors who believe the courts are where pampered courtiers surrounded by opulence titter over tea are greatly mistaken. The courts are just another battlefield, and courtiers are its warriors. And just as on any battlefield, the future of the clan can ride upon the outcome of every battle at court. As a wise Doji once observed, “A warrior’s failure dooms only themself; the courtier’s failure dooms the clan.”

This is because the courts of Rokugan, from small pastoral courts to the Imperial Court, are where policy is decided and laws are made. The consequences of proceedings at court and decisions made there can ripple outward and affect the lands surrounding it. Economic decisions like where a province allots its taxes, or which river to dam, or which imports to permit from other clans, can drastically affect the lives of thousands.

Imperial Court decisions have the greatest impact, flowing throughout the Empire just as blood flows from the heart to the body’s farthest extremities. Due to the efforts of courtiers, enemies in summer can become allies by winter. New clan champions are not technically official until they are recognized and accepted at the Imperial Winter Court. Marriage agreements between samurai houses, even those beneath notice, are not legal until they carry the Imperial stamp. The difference between an illegal military invasion and a justified honorable strike is the approval of the court. At court, wars can end before they’ve even begun due to political pressure—and they can start with a single sharp word.

Even clans that do not prioritize the political arena, like the Crab and Unicorn, still want a say in how they will be governed and some influence on policy. Having no representation means others will decide the fate of the clan. When the Dragon have a poor harvest and other clans have a surplus, the difference between life and death hangs not only on the negotiating skill of the clan’s courtiers, but on their presence and clout at court. And perhaps on how much better they are than the courtiers of every other clan seeking the same thing.

When so much depends on how court sessions unfold, it is easy to see how the courts become battlefields on which the Great Clans strike at one another. Good courtiers use the courts to influence policy to their clan’s benefit, but great ones use them to strike at their clan’s enemies.

Imperial Favors
The Tao of Shinsei says, “We only relate to pain that is our own,” and the courts are a fine example of this. Proximity to the Imperial families—the Seppun, Otomo, and Miya—is one of the primary reasons for maintaining a presence at court. By making personal connections with these families, a courtier can win their sympathy—a powerful deterrent against the manipulations of other clans—and access to Imperial resources. Marriage into an Imperial family is especially prestigious, bringing glory (and sizable resources) into the clan. Because of the Imperials’ considerable sway, rapport with any of those families is a great boon.

Imperial family members are not oblivious to this fact. They are wary of personal relationships and will not be used as step stools to power. They are born and raised in the courts and know when a gesture of friendship is genuine. Many is the courtier who foolishly believed their bid for Imperial attention had succeeded, only to be justly “enlightened.”

The Crane enjoy one of the closest relationships with the Imperial families, owing to their close tie to the Emperor. Doji was famously Hantei’s favorite sibling, and the Emperor’s children have a Doji parent more often than not. Rokugani are nearly always sympathetic to a beloved parent’s clan, and the Crane use this to sway the Emperor to their favor. However, they sometimes find themselves in rivalries with the Otomo family and in competition with the Scorpion, so they are not always in Imperial good graces.

A Favor Returned
It is Rokugani custom to always bring a gift when entering someone else’s home, and to exchange gifts as tokens of gratitude. A gift may be offered to prove one’s sincerity, in exchange for a favor, or as a mark of affection. Regardless of the reason for the gift, it must always be repaid. To do otherwise insults the giver and disgraces the recipient, because it demonstrates greed and a disregard of the Bushidō tenet of Courtesy.

As a result, gifts and favors are the currency of the court. By performing favors, a courtier gains clout and sway over others. Arranging a good marriage for a friend’s offspring, officiating a duel to ensure neither party loses face, securing someone an invitation to an exclusive event, and introducing someone to a person of influence are all examples of favors a courtier can provide. Because a favor must be reciprocated, the more favors a courtier performs, the more strings they can pull when needed.

Gift giving is an art form of its own. A gift that is handmade or has some personal significance is valued more highly than one that is merely expensive or rare. A courtier who simply buys a pricey gift in the market shows no care for the one receiving the gift, but the courtier who spends hours handcrafting a piece of art or who offers a personal token once given to them by their sensei demonstrates true devotion. At the same time, a gift can be a subtle insult to the receiver, one that they must accept to save face. An inappropriate gift can disrupt a court when needed or stir the anger of a host while making the giver seem innocent. And of course, gifts can be weaponized, the high cost of a banked favor implied with the giving.

Gift Custom
The custom of receiving a gift is that it must be refused twice and then accepted on the third offer. This is to prove the sincerity of the offer and refute the desire of the receiver.

Keeping The Gate
Access to courts is paramount to the survival of a clan, so denying court access is a powerful weapon. Denying access can be done subtly, such as by occupying the time of a courtier so they forget to attend, or by force, such as having an entire delegation expelled from court for a perceived slight. The reputation and comfort of guests is the responsibility of court hosts, so a clan may deny rivals access to a court they are hosting on the pretense of maintaining harmony. With no one to argue a clan’s perspective on policy, the clan is effectively at the court’s mercy.

Conversely, allowing access to a court is a potent bargaining chip and a valuable favor. For instance, a person may only attend the Imperial Winter Court with a written invitation from the Emperor, who only issues a finite number of invitations each year. Great Clan daimyō and important officials such as the Emerald Champion always receive personal invitations, but Great Clans also receive blank invitations to be dispersed, or given away as favors, at their will. A samurai who receives such an invitation as a gift is likely to be in the giver’s debt for some time.

Cultural Influence
Courts are where trends begin, which results in another form of warfare between clans. No one takes an out-offashion courtier seriously, and ignorance of the latest fad demonstrates that the courtier is not paying attention.

Courtiers who influence social trends wield a subtle power, but one that cannot be overlooked. By making the latest fashion prohibitively expensive, a courtier can deny a rival access to court or stress their resources. For example, the cost of one silk kimono suitable for court could feed a dozen families for a season; for the Sparrow Clan, the poorest samurai in the Empire, for one representative to attend court means others must starve.

A courtier can also create a demand for their family’s goods and thus increase their family’s influence, prestige, and wealth. A sake brewery whose latest brew becomes the favorite of influential courtiers will find its product in sudden demand, as offering the brew to guests will soon become a prerequisite for holding court functions.

Shadows Of The Court
Information is power, and the courts are rife with it. But they are also rife with deception. Behind the open theater of court proceedings, diplomacy is conducted behind closed doors. Secret meetings, covert agreements, and coordinated displays are all orchestrated beneath a veneer of spontaneous civility. In such a climate, superior knowledge is the difference between victory and failure.

That courtiers would gather information and engage in espionage is not just expected, but openly accepted by court participants. Spying is disgraceful behavior unbecoming of samurai, but it is not dishonorable to “overhear,” and court is filled with attentive eyes and ears. One can assume that, at any time, one’s activities are being witnessed. Similarly, it is considered disgraceful to hide one’s activities at court. Successful
courtiers become experts at “the face one shows,” acting in the open without revealing their intentions. Even in the open, a courtier’s shadow is never noticed.

Spying In The Open
Most spying does not involve listening closely behind shōji screens, hanging from dark rafters, or similar skulduggery. Quite the contrary: most spying is done in the open. Even though this is acknowledged, a samurai would take offense at the notion that they are “spying.” They are simply paying attention.

When two courtiers leave court together at the same time, it is something noteworthy. If court gossip revolves around a specific subject, that knowledge is worth tucking away. If voices behind a shōji screen are loud enough to be heard from the next seat, that is hardly the fault of the one occupying it.

Vigilant courtiers and other samurai simply watch and listen. When they are asked what they have observed, it is not dishonorable for them to simply recall what they have seen and heard. Even seemingly inconsequential details may add valuable pieces to a greater picture, but the courtier who made the observation never need know how that detail connects. By operating in such a way, a courtier’s honor is preserved.

Courtiers are trained to infer based on observation. Skilled courtiers can tell at a glance who is really in charge, who owes who a favor, and which attendees were childhood friends. By observing body language and how individuals react to unfolding circumstances, they can gather a great deal of valuable information. When two courtiers attend court carrying one another’s exchanged fans, an observer might conclude that they are involved. If a servant drops a cup and it shatters, and all turn to look save one or two, an astute courtier might wonder why they are trying so hard to look nonchalant.

Better information sources than samurai are those who move through the courts invisibly: namely, the servant class. Servants are everywhere in a keep, including restricted and sensitive areas, and they are never given a second glance. There are attendants, gardeners,
floor washers, cooks, hostlers, tailors, and many more. They are almost regarded as furniture, mere fixtures of the household. What a samurai would never say in public, they openly mention in front of servants. What peasants overhear can fill volumes.

Successful courtiers are able to discern who is supposed to be present and who is spying. Servants tend to fade into the background, so courtiers train themselves to notice them. If a courtier suspects a servant might be spying, they may say things in front of the servant that will lead them to draw incorrect conclusions. Wise courtiers speak in layers so as to obfuscate their meaning for anyone but the intended recipient of their message—so that, as a famous Otomo once put it, “the walls do not understand” what was truly said.

Letters
Because conversation is so easily overheard, most confidential communication is achieved via letters. However, even letter exchanges are not entirely secure. Due to paper’s expense, the convention is to write one’s reply on the same note. A letter can be hand delivered, but samurai rarely have time to do so, so they usually entrust delivery to a servant or leave the letter in an inconspicuous place where the intended recipient will find it. However, neither method guarantees that the letter will escape interception; a servant cannot refuse a samurai who demands it, and there may be spies who seek hidden letters throughout the castle. A samurai can only accept the fact that eyes other than the intended recipient’s might see the letter.

There are countermeasures to deploy, however. One is origami, the art of paper folding. To use this method, the writer folds the letter into a particularly difficult origami shape, one almost certain to tear when unfolded. This way, if the addressee receives a torn letter, or an unfolded letter full of origami creases, they know it has been intercepted. Another countermeasure is decoy letters; a favorite court pastime of the Bayushi family is to deploy a combination of decoys and origami and then observe the frustrations of interceptors who unfold a letter only to find a drawing or meaningless poem.

A third countermeasure is to write in code. Every Great Clan family boasts a number of family ciphers in which they conduct secret correspondence. Decoding such a cipher is impossible or very difficult for outsiders who don’t know the code. Some ciphers are obviously encoded, appearing as intricate symbols, like the Asako family cipher. Others appear to be regular writing, like the ciphers of the Bayushi. While fairly foolproof, a family cipher is rarely used for personal correspondence, as every letter written using the cipher gives interceptors another chance to decipher it, at great cost to the clan.

Casual Meetings
Even in court culture, in which every little act is scrutinized, people tend to relax at informal gatherings. These are the best places to gather information, as attendees reveal things without meaning to when their guard is down. Clan delegations often hold special events as a pretense for collecting intelligence. An innocent dinner, a kemari tournament, a modest party, or even a puppet theater (Bunraku) performance could
be an information-gathering operation in disguise. “The full belly speaks openly,” as the saying goes. Simply by stationing vigilant observers throughout such an event, one can learn many useful details.

Of course, often the most valuable information can be revealed in the relaxed talk behind closed doors.

Unexpectedly, bushi-trained samurai tend to be better than courtiers at guarding important intelligence from a lover. The life of a bushi teaches constant vigilance, for it is said death awaits three feet away at all times. Even during an assignation, the warrior is always self-aware and observing their surroundings, their guard never fully lowered.

The Theater Of Court
Most deceptive of all is the “theater” of court functions. Lobbying, debates, and other such activities occur in open court, before the eyes of all attendees. A clever courtier can manipulate court proceedings to their advantage. Publicly boasting of their deeds—or taking credit for someone else’s—can focus attention on the courtier and away from something they wish to obscure. Theatrical displays create controversy, which is a weapon of its own, to shield their true activities or elicit condemnation of a rival. Those who enter court for the first time may feel as though they’ve stepped upon a Kabuki stage where all the actors are playing improvised parts and displaying masklike façades of civility or outrage. That feeling is not far from true.