Heart of the Ronin (32 page)

The wind rose and began to caress the roof, to whisper through the eaves and cracks in the walls. He shivered and scooted closer to the coals. Then something heavy struck the wall of the house, thudding against his leg with a blunt sting against his leg. A fist-sized stone bounced onto the tatami mats.

Outside his house, a man’s voice cried out above the wind. “Get out of here, you base coward! Get out or we’ll finish you!”

Ken’ishi leaped to his feet and ran to the door, whipping it open. He heard running footsteps quickly receding, swallowed by the wind. He looked over at the ragged hole torn in the rice-paper wall by the stone. The paper fluttered as the wind whispered through the hole.
 

His eyes searched the darkness, and his shoulders tensed with the urge to chase his cowardly assailant through the night and punish him. But he resisted. Another death so soon would only make more enemies for him. He had to befriend the people of this village. The thought of enemies waiting to stab him in the back or spread poisonous words in closed rooms only stoked his anger, but he pushed it back down. He would just have to be more vigilant and act when the time was right.

Five

“You cannot tell whether a person is good or evil by his vicissitudes in life. Good and bad fortune are matters of fate. Good and bad actions are Man’s Way.”

—
Hagakure

A knock at the door of his office drew Yasutoki from his reverie. He had been thinking about Silver Crane again, the famous blade that had been gone from the world for over thirty years. Gone from the world, but not from memory. A weapon prized by the Taira clan during the long war with the Minamoto clan. The rediscovery of such a weapon might be enough to galvanize the scattered remnants of his kinsmen, reunite them, bring them back to power, once the Minamoto clan and their allies had been cast down by the Mongol invaders. The door slid open, revealing one of the house servants. “I am sorry, Yasutoki-sama. I am being rude. There is someone to see you. He says you are expecting him. His name is Akihiro.”

Yasutoki had not been expecting this man so soon. “See him to my office. And bring some hot sake as well.”

“As you wish, Yasutoki-sama. Excuse me.” The servant shut the door again.

Yasutoki suppressed a surge of excitement. His months of preparation might begin to pay off. He hoped that this man had been worth his effort. He did not suffer disappointment with a pleasant nature. In the meantime, he made sure several of his poison-tipped shuriken were prepared. A servant brought warm sake and two cups. When the door opened, he was waiting behind his desk.

“Greetings, Akihiro,” Yasutoki said cordially.

The man stepped into the room, and the servant slid the door shut behind him. He was dressed in the dusty robes of an itinerant merchant. The man bowed and seated himself across the desk from Yasutoki. “Greetings, Yasutoki-sama.”

“How is the sake trade?” Yasutoki asked, loud enough to be heard in the hallway. “Would you care to sample some of our own local brew?”

“Business is terrible,” the man replied. “Let us sample your sake.”

Yasutoki studied his face. Was this the same man he had met on Mount Ono? He had not seen the man’s face in decades. His face was remarkable in that it was completely unremarkable. He was so nondescript that Yasutoki wondered if he would remember the man’s appearance a few days from now. It was the perfect face for someone of his profession, a porcelain mask, betraying no emotion. Yasutoki wondered if some sort of shadow charm or magic was at work here, manipulating his perception of the man’s features. There were tales of such abilities, and Yasutoki wouldn’t have put it past Kage to have discovered them.

Yasutoki offered him a cup, which he took, and poured some sake for him. “So, Kage,” he said, his voice little more than an imperceptible mutter. “I have been looking forward to your visit for some time.”

“I’m sure you have,” Kage said, in a similar voice. “I have accomplished much.”

“I hope it is worth the price.”

“First,” Kage said, “payment.”

Yasutoki stiffened, but kept his composure at the man’s abrupt manner. “Very well.” He pulled a silk purse from his sleeve, heavy with the weight of coins and precious stones, and placed it in front of him on the desk. Kage unslung a satchel from his shoulder and placed it upon the table, then he reached for the purse. “Wait,” Yasutoki said, laying his left hand on the purse.

Kage’s hand froze, but his mask-like countenance betrayed no emotion.

Yasutoki said, “First, you must tell me what I can expect to find in here.”

Kage’s voice was dispassionate, and his hand remained poised above the table. “Detailed observations of the fighting strength of every Nishimuta and Otomo lord in the north. Information on the lesser families and clans of the central provinces will be coming soon.”

“What about the Shimazu clan in the south?”

“Soon enough. I thought it best to concentrate on the most important forces first.”

Yasutoki nodded. “Very good. Excellent.” He took his hand off the purse.

Kage’s hand resumed its forward motion, picked up the pouch, and withdrew with it.

Yasutoki said, “I trust the amount is sufficient to our bargain.”

The purse disappeared into Kage’s robes. “If it is not, I will return for the rest.”

Yasutoki ignored the comment. “The rest of your payment will come when I receive the information about the remaining fiefs. Our business here is concluded then.”

“So it is.” The man known as Kage bowed to Yasutoki, stood up and left the room with the sound of a shadow.

Yasutoki picked up the satchel, untied the flap, and looked inside. There were dozens of small, tightly wrapped scrolls. He picked one at random and opened it. With a grin, he found it concerned the fief of Lord Nishimuta no Jiro, Lord Tsunetomo’s father-in-law. Two hundred able-bodied samurai, potential conscripts numbering over a thousand, four hundred horses, two master swordsmiths, four apprentice swordsmiths, four armorers, four bowyers. . . . He put a lid on the bubbling pot of his inner glee. Kage had indeed been thorough.

He put the scroll back into the satchel and stuffed the satchel inside a secret compartment in the rear of his writing desk. If this were found, it would cost Yasutoki his head. Already his mind was swirling about how best to compile the information and relay it to the Khan. He would have to travel to Hakozaki on some imaginary errand and send word to the Khan’s spies there. This information was the key to the Great Khan’s conquest, and he knew the Golden Horde would put it to the best possible use.

All that remained for him was to uncover the same information from Lord Tsunetomo’s fief. Tsunemori was secretive, as if he could sense the danger in allowing it to Yasutoki. If Yasutoki made any direct inquiries and observations around the castle, Tsunemori’s suspicions would be even more aroused. No, only in Tsunemori’s complacency could Yasutoki operate at will. Yasutoki would have to undertake this task personally.

While his mind was on the subject of spies, he wondered again what happened to the spies he dispatched so long ago to find the ronin, Ken’ishi. Yasutoki had many other things occupying his attention lately, but the ronin and his stolen treasure were never far from his mind. He was a curiosity, an unusual tool. Of course, there was no question that Silver Crane would be wrested from him eventually. The ronin could not be allowed to keep it, but he seemed to have been swallowed by the earth. Nevertheless, the men Yasutoki had hired to find him were skilled and resourceful. They would succeed, of that he had no doubt.

Six

Look at the candle!

What a hungry wind it is . . .
 

Hunting in the snow!

—
Seira

Ken’ishi sat in Tetta’s main room, sipping his hot tea, listening to the sound of the winter wind outside the inn. The cold wind swept off the ocean and washed over the village, but it was not bitter cold. Ken’ishi remembered well the bitter cold gales that swept across the snow-blanketed mountainsides in his boyhood home, so for him this winter here seemed mild. But the village was so close to the ocean that he sometimes thought he felt the frigid salt spray even when he was dry.

Tetta sat down across the table from him, carrying a jar of sake. He grunted as he sank down as if he were exhausted. “Cold today, eh?”

Ken’ishi nodded. “But it is warm enough in here.”

“So it is, isn’t it? How was the soup?”

“It was delicious. Just what I needed on a night like tonight.”

“You are too kind. Sometimes my wife’s cooking tastes like piss.” Tetta smiled good-naturedly.

Ken’ishi smiled back. “I’m sure she would disagree.”

“I tell her that all the time. She ignores me. Hah! She ignores me most of the time! Someday when you have a wife you will know what I mean!” Tetta chuckled, then grew more serious. “Ken’ishi, there is something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you.”

Ken’ishi put down his teacup. He suspected that Tetta wanted to talk to him about Kiosé. Before Tetta started speaking, Ken’ishi had a feeling that Kiosé was listening from somewhere nearby.

Tetta said, “This is difficult to discuss. I am indebted to you. You saved my life, and you saved Kiosé’s life. Without her, my family would be poorer this winter. Ah, this is difficult. I know that she cares for you.”

Ken’ishi said nothing. He could not deny it.

“I think she looks at you as her protector. She is very sly about it, but she often asks if there is anything I would like her to do for you. Sometimes I indulge her. It isn’t good for me to let her get too attached, do you understand? She may think that you will help her if she decides to disobey me.”

Ken’ishi said, “You have been good to me, Tetta. I have no wish to interfere with your affairs.”

Tetta rubbed his oddly shaped pate with a gnarled hand. “Ah, that’s good, isn’t it? It does me good to hear you say it. Please don’t misunderstand me. Kiosé has given me no trouble at all. She does as she is told, and she’s a hard worker. She serves me well, and I think my guests like her. But there’s something else I need to talk to you about. Since . . . that night, Yoba’s family has been spreading lies about me, about you, about Kiosé. They say that you work for a yakuza gang in Hakozaki. They say that Kiosé is riddled with disease. They say that my food is poisonous.”

Ken’ishi scowled. “They are an evil brood. I think most people are smart enough to recognize their lies.”

“So it seems, but . . . they have yelled threats at Kiosé. She’s terrified of them. Perhaps they’re just trying to scare her. Or perhaps they’re working themselves up to do something terrible. I don’t know. But I don’t want anything to happen to her. And not just for my own sake, you understand. I care for her almost as my own daughter.”

“I don’t believe that you mistreat her, Tetta.”

“My son, Gonta, is sometimes short with her, but my family looks out for her. I am already indebted to you, Ken’ishi, so I hate to ask anything of you, but you are the only man in the village capable of defending her from Yoba’s family. They hate you, but they fear you as well.”

“It’s already my duty to ensure there is no trouble, Tetta.”

“I understand. Kiosé has been cleaning your house and cooking for you sometimes, hasn’t she? It’s because of my debt to you. And I know she wants to do it. Do you understand?”

Ken’ishi nodded.

“I just wanted you to know that anything she does for you is with my blessing.”

“You are too kind, Tetta.”

The innkeeper protested. “No, no, not at all. I think you have been a gift to this village. Hojo-sama was a good man, but he was unhappy here. His unhappiness sometimes got in the way of his duties. He could have done something about Yoba long ago. It is unfortunate that you had to kill Yoba, but I am glad that he is gone. I hope you don’t have to do any harm to his sons, but most people would understand if you did.”

“I will do whatever is necessary to make sure that they harm no one.”

Tetta nodded with appreciation.

“There is something I would like to ask you now, Tetta,” Ken’ishi said. “I know that Kiosé is worth a lot of money to you. I’m sure you had to pay handsomely for her.”

“She is valuable to me.”

“But she could be replaced, could she not? You could go to Hakozaki to buy another girl’s contract?”

Tetta rubbed his chin. “I suppose if I had the money, I could do that. I would be taking a big risk that the new girl would be lazy, or inept, or disobedient. Kiosé is worth more to me than I paid for her. And it’s a long walk to Hakozaki for these old bones.”

Their eyes met for a moment. Tetta knew what he was asking. Ken’ishi said, “What if you had the money?”

“But where would I get that amount of money?”

Ken’ishi emptied his teacup and put it down firmly. “Perhaps you could think about how much money that would be.”

“Perhaps I could,” Tetta said, nodding amiably. “It is always good to plan for the future, isn’t it?”

“As you say, Tetta.” Ken’ishi said. “Now, please excuse me. The hour is growing late. Thank you for the fine meal.”

* * *

As he walked the short distance back to his house, Ken’ishi sidestepped patches of snow from a storm two days before that still remained in the areas shadowed from the daylight sun. The dirt of the village street was soft with melted snow, but stiffened by the night chill. Ken’ishi trusted the innkeeper, but he had no idea how much it might cost to set Kiosé free. And the money he received from Norikage each month was more than he needed to buy food and supplies. He did not know how long he would have to save his coins to cover the sum Tetta might ask. Thoughts bounced around in his mind like a flock of chattering sparrows.

Then he stopped in the middle of the street, his senses sharp. His hand was on his sword hilt. Something was wrong. A chill breeze whispered through the darkness under trees surrounding the village, between the weathered wooden houses, under the dark eaves. His eyes scanned the darkness. Someone was watching him. Yoba’s sons, prepared for an ambush? His house was only fifty paces away. Where was Akao? Was someone hiding inside his house? No, the danger was . . . more distant. But someone was watching him, he was sure of it.