They come two nights later, the only warning being that Emi situates herself in front of the door, katana resting sheathed against her knees.  She refuses to tell me her reasons, cryptically saying that she hopes that she will not have to raise it in the children's defense.

That night, after I have laid the babes down in the cradle that they share, I lie awake, staring at the ceiling, conscious of the fact that Emi seems to believe that there is a threat against my family.  And her words from that afternoon two days ago drift through my mind as if they are the warning song of a bird.  More than you realize.  More than you realize.

At the darkest hour of the night, Emi slips upstairs, her face tight with worry.  The katana is sheathed at her hip, and her ever-present knife is just barely visible through the fabric of her kimono.  Her eyes glow in the light of the candle that she is carrying, making her look even more like a spirit than she already does.  "They are coming."

I do not bother to ask who; the answer is already more than clear in my mind.  "Protect the babes.  I do not care what happens to me, but protect the babes."

"Of course I will protect them," she answers as she sets the candle onto the low table and blows it out, "but you must continue to fight, Sakura.  Even though you believe that you can merely accept death, the will to live and to fight is ingrained deep in your blood."

"I have fought enough," I answer.  "If I can save my family any other way, I will not resort to the violence that I had lived in for all of my life.  There is enough blood on my hands, Emi, without taking the lives of people that I grew up among."

The dark shadow that is the shinobi settles herself in front of the cradle holding my sleeping children.  I hear the sound of the door opening violently below us, and I close my eyes as I take a deep breath to steady my shaking hands.

They come in with drawn katanas before them, a deadly wall that would have impaled anyone who had chosen to run for the door.  I cannot see any of their faces, and Emi laughs suddenly in the dark, the sound fading long before it can escape to the air outside.

"Sakura, wife of Lord Igarashi Ryuu, we have been sent to retrieve all those who dwell within your house," one of them says, and the candle that Emi left on the table flares back to life.

The shinobi holds it in one hand, Kazuhiko cradled in her other arm.  "Put away your weapons.  No one in this house will make a move against you as long as you do not harm any of us."

All four of their faces turn towards her, and I can see now that she purposely angled the light to fall across my sleeping babe's features, highlighting the idea that we mean them no harm.  The sharp sound of katanas sliding back into their sheaths breaks the fragile silence that had fallen after Emi's words as she throws a relieved look towards me.

"Gather the babes," the man speaks again while his three companions remain quiet.  "You have a few minutes."

My voice returns.  "What warrants such orders?  Why do you come in the dark of the night with your faces hidden and your weapons drawn?  What wrongs have been committed that such actions are necessary?"

The leader merely repeats, "Gather the babes."  He gestures towards one of the men behind him, who steps forward and plucks the candle from Emi's hand before taking her now-free hand to steer her roughly to the door.

Words that I do not know flow from her mouth as she yanks her hand away from his, face twisted in anger.  When the man goes to shove her, she snaps, "No harm."  And I notice that her arms wrap around my son's little body as her body angles away from him.

Whatever the man would have done to her is stalled by the reminder that she cradles a babe, one that is a son.  He raises his hands in defeat and steps away from her.

When the leader steps closer to me, I rise from the futon with as much dignity as I can muster before gathering Moriko up against my chest.  With a few light steps, I join Emi by the door, noticing that she does not resist when they undo the katana from about her waist.

"Walk," the leader says in a low voice, the word more menacing than if he had shouted it.  And without another sound, I leave the house, Emi by my side, and the men forming ranks about us.

The streets are silent except for the footfalls of our group, and my heart tightens in my chest as we approach the walls of the fortress.  The place of my birth has never looked more terrifying than in the moments when I am certain that I am about to die for my secrets.

Emi slips her hand against mine as our path leads us through the unusually still halls.  Kazuhiko stirs in her arms, turning his face away from the faint light.  My feet recognize where we are headed a split second before it registers in my mind.

The private rooms where my father used to meet with his retainers.  Narrowing down the traitor to the group of my father's most trusted men, those that survived the last battle he would ever ride into.  With that knowledge, I study the men surrounding me with new eyes, noting that none of them had trained under Ryuu or Taro.

In fact, I do not know any of them.

Emi glares at her escort when he tries to push her through the door.  "I can walk through a door without assistance.  It is a skill that I have perfected during what little life I have lived, and I would prefer to continue to do it by myself."

The room is dark, hiding anything that may be lurking in the shadows.  Even now, I can hear the voice of my father discussing battle strategies with his retainers, though he has been dead for years now.  Emi is still beside me, her body half in front of mine, deliberately drawing attention to herself first.  The men that had brought us here are against the wall behind us, waiting.

"I should have realized that you were more than a mere healer when you first arrived," a voice says from the darkness in front of us, and it takes a moment for me to understand that he is talking to Emi.  "What were your plans, shinobi, when you invade our clan?"

She does not answer him, turning slightly to hand me Kazuhiko.  Her eyes search mine for a moment before she returns her attention to the person in the shadows.

"I know you," the man continues once it is clear that Emi is not going to give him the satisfaction of an answer.  "Your face has not changed since the day that I first saw you, when I saw you in the midst of battle.  Nearly twenty years, it has been, and you have barely aged beyond a few years.  I find it interesting that you would protect the child of the man who cut your leader down as he fought beside you."

Emi flinches at his words while I try to figure out whose voice I am hearing.  "My leader knew that he was fall in battle one day, and he was not unprepared to face his death, unlike your late Lord Amachi, who could defeat many enemies but not the one that claims all peoples' lives."

One of the shadows moves at her words and slaps Emi hard across the face, the sound sharp against the quiet background.  "You have no right."

"As you had no right setting yourself up in the position that you have?" She replies, taking a step forward.  "I have only helped those among your clan since I have arrived.  There may be blood upon my hands, but it is the blood of people who chose to walk out onto the battlefield, knowing that they could end up losing their lives.

"You, though, have killed those that you have sworn to protect, that you swear that you serve.  So who is the bigger deceiver: me, who has only done what I have claimed to do while I am among the Amachi clan, or you, who lurks in the shadows and plays a hand in killing your lord and his wife?"

This hit is hard enough to cause Emi to sway a bit, and the sound startles Moriko, who screams her displeasure at being awoken.  I pull my attention from the people right in front of me to my daughter, cradling her closer to my body.

"I ought to kill you now and save myself the trouble later on," the traitor sneers.  He steps past the barrier that Emi's frame has created, and I catch my first glimpse of his form before he is swallowed up in darkness once more.  "If we had more time, I would draw out your death, make you feel every kind of pain that I can think of."

A flash of metal in the faint light warns me just as much as his words, and he drives the blade deep into her side.  A gasp escapes her, and the shinobi sinks to her knees, revealing the traitor's face for the first time, his features twisted in blood lust.

"I hope you realize that my children are the only thing holding me back right now," I tell him, rage coloring my words as I watch him calmly wipe Emi's blood off of his knife.  "And I would grant you a quick death unlike what you promised Emi."

A smirk lights Taro's face, and he kicks the fallen shinobi, her breath exhaling the only sound that leaves her mouth.  "Everyone praised the strategic mind of Amachi Junichi, the weapon mastery, but even those closest to the last living Amachi did not see the truth.  And, now, when you should be fighting for your life, you are merely standing there: babes in arm, no weapons in sight, and the only one who would have defended you dying at your feet.

"Your father should have killed you the day you were born and found a son to raise instead.  The dishonor that would fall upon the clan if the truth were to come out would ensure that no ally ever raised their hand in our defense again.  You and this silly game that you play has put us all at risk."

The man who had been like another father to me runs the blade he still holds along my cheek, the sharp tang of blood filling my nose.  "And you know how I figured the truth out, Jun?  The letter that your foolish father left for you helped to build my suspicions, but I could not be sure that you were a female until the day that you showed up with Ryuu, expecting us all to accept that you had never seen anyone in the Amachi clan.  And cutting open that pitiful replacement that you found to take your place just proved everything that I had put together."

He suddenly tears my kimono open, revealing the scar that Yori had noted only a couple days earlier.  "When my wife told me that Sakura had a scar very similar to the one that Amachi Junichi had, I knew that you were going to be unable to hide the truth from me any longer."

"You cannot reveal the truth though, Taro," I answer, lifting my chin and infusing my voice with a strength that I do not feel.  "Like you said, it will bring great dishonor to the clan.  Yet if you keep my secret, there will be no one to lead the Amachi clan, now that you have killed Lord Amachi."

A wild laugh leaves his mouth, and the knife in his hand vanishes back into his kimono.  Then he takes Kazuhiko from my arms, stepping back as I lunge towards him.  "I believe that I have the heir that I need right here, foolish foolish Junichi.  Luckily, at least one of your children is male, and he takes after his mother more than his father."

"Give me back my babe," I say through gritted teeth.  "I will give you anything you want; just give me back my son."

Taro shakes his head, a crazed smile pulling at his lips.  "You have nothing that I want besides what I am holding.  You will not be able to work your way out of this one, Junichi."

Deliberately, he runs a finger along the drying blood on his kimono before smearing it across Kazuhiko's cheek.  My son screams, and Moriko raises her voice to join him.

"Yes, you have given me all that I want," he tells me as he hands the crying child off to the leader of the men who had brought us to this room.  "Take a horse and return in a week's time.  When you return, bring back the news that Lord Amachi and his wife are dead, and their son is the last remaining Amachi."

I look down at Emi, her fingers tapping lightly against her chest.  Carefully, I kneel next to her, helping to prop her up as she leans her mouth to my ear.  "The knife," she whispers.

When she taps her chest again, I remember the dagger that she carried around under her kimono, and gently, I reach for it, relief flooding me when I feel my fingers wrap around the hilt.  Shifting Moriko to one arm, I tell Emi, "It is going to be all right."

Taro is still talking to the men when I rise, dagger half-concealed in the folds of fabric by my side.  Rage boiling through my veins, I readjust my hold on the weapon and raise it to stab it into his back.  A hand clamps down on my wrist and twists it until I cry out and drop the knife.

One of the silent men wrenches my arm behind my back, and I kick my leg back desperately, hoping that I can reach the blade before anyone else has time to reach it.  However, my captor merely holds me tighter as Taro turns to pick up the knife, studying it like it is something that he has never seen before.

I scream, my voice blending with the cries of the babes for a moment before the man's other hand comes around to clamp down over my mouth.  Taro turns the knife in his hand, seeming to calculate something in his mind.

"Be quiet, Junichi," he says, pointing the blade at Moriko's little chest, "or you will lose a child before I have you hauled down to the cells."

Tears well in my eyes against my will, and I can only watch as Kazuhiko is taken away from me, Taro smirking.  Once I can no longer hear my son's cries, the traitor turns back to me.

"Take her to the cells, and if there is any life left in the shinobi, throw her in one of the cells as well," he tells the remaining three men.  "I have some other issues to deal with, and I have no more use for Junichi right now."

My captor moves his sweaty hand to my right shoulder since I am still cradling Moriko in that arm.  The moment my mouth is free, I half-lunge at Taro, yelling, "You cannot hide the truth forever, Taro.  Eventually everything will come out, and while the clans will reject me for being a woman, they will tear you to shreds for what you have done."

He does not bother to respond, turning away and leaving the room.  The other two have collected Emi, and her face has paled considerably with the exception of the blood streaked across her face from where Taro slapped her.  Her chest barely moves with breath as they carry her out of the door, hardly noticing the trail of dripping blood that they leave behind them.

The man holding me pushes my clenched fist into the middle of my back to move me forward.  My feet step into Emi's blood, and the fact that I am barefooted registers in my mind for the first time, emerging as a strangled laugh.

The blood on my feet leaves a trail, and I can feel the stickiness of it clinging to my skin as we descend further and further into the fortress.  The last time that I had been to the dungeon was when Ryuu and I were younger.  I had gotten locked into the little room that they had once used for storage, and by the time Ryuu found me, I had cried myself to sleep in the corner, having given up on trying to get the door open.

The same feeling of hopelessness envelopes me as I pass empty cell after empty cell, the smell of must and death filling my nose.  Moriko has long since stopped crying, her little whimpers the only noise that penetrates the complete silence of this forgotten place.

We pass Emi's crumpled form on the floor of one of the very last cells, door open and her right arm stretching towards the opening like a quiet plea.  The two men who had carried her down are waiting at the cell across from hers, door already open.

"Your new accommodations, Lord Amachi, or should I say, Lady Amachi," one of them says, the first words that I have heard any of the three utter before I am shoved in.  I barely keep my balance and turn in time to see the men's faces break into a smile.  A moment later, the door closes with a sharp noise, and I am left in darkness with only my worries and my daughter for company.