Samurai Son (10 page)

Chapter Nineteen

“Takeshi-sama?”
 
Kasumi gasped.
 
What could the daimyo’s wife be doing in the middle of the forest?
 
Ikumi was lovely, with pale skin and long dark hair.
 
Her flawless face was timeless.
 
She wore a tunic and hakama like many samurai, with her two swords fastened to her obi.
 
If Kasumi could choose a woman who would embody the form of Amaterasu, the sun goddess, she thought it would have to be Takeshi Ikumi.
 
Kasumi had seen only one other woman come close to such beauty, and that was Kanayo, the Guardian.
 
Yet there was a scent of something that Kasumi could not fathom, something like the wind in the pines or snow on a mountaintop.

Ikumi smiled.
 
“My child, I am here because it is important for me to know why you are in the forest.
 
After all, this is my island, and not much escapes my attention.”

Kasumi bowed low.
 
“Takeshi-sama, I—I knew that you were powerful, but I had no idea…”

“Why was the oni chasing you, child?”

Kasumi blinked.
 
“The oni is trying to stop me from delivering my message from the Guardian.”

“Hmm,” Ikumi said.
 
“The message you bring is that important?”

“Yes.”
 
She paused.
 
“I was trying to get to the temple but somehow got lost…”

“Why don’t you come with me to my home?
 
I’m certain we can discuss this over some tea.”

“Yes, Takeshi-sama.”
 
Kasumi hesitated.
 
“My half brother Jiro is at the harbor town…”

“Do not worry,” Ikumi said.
 
“I’ll send some men to find him.”

#

Kasumi found herself bemused as she sat down beside Ikumi in the spacious Takeshi home.
 
Servants had brought tea and mochi while they sat at the low table.
 
Although Ikumi was technically just the daimyo’s wife, it was apparent she held a great deal of the power here, able to order servants, soldiers, and even samurai.
 
When she had walked into the estate with Kasumi beside her, she ordered two young samurai to look for Jiro as she and Kasumi sat and talked.

Now Kasumi stared at the cup of tea cooling in her hands and wondered what to say to a woman who was obviously a sorceress with a great deal of power.

“Isn’t the tea to your liking?” Ikumi asked.

Kasumi glanced up from her reverie and realized she was being rude.
 
“Thank you,” she said.
 
“Pardon me for my behavior—everything is wonderful.
 
I just had a very eventful night.”

Ikumi smiled.
 
“I’d imagine so.
 
You are Naotaka Kasumi Neko, are you not?”

“I am, but how did—?”

“How did I know?”
 
Ikumi smiled, raising her sleeve to hide it.
 
“I am the daimyo’s wife.
 
I know who our visitors are.”

“Then you know I wanted to go to the temple of Kuan Yin here,” Kasumi said.
 
“That I am praying for a sick uncle.”

“I see, but that isn’t really why you came with an oni following you.”
 
Ikumi turned to the serving girl present and bade her to pour more hot tea into Kasumi’s cup.
 
The woman emptied the cold tea into a small pail she carried and poured more hot tea.

“I—I…”
 
She looked at the serving girl.

“She can be trusted,” Ikumi said.
 
“But I shall dismiss her for your comfort.”
 
She turned and gently bade the girl to leave.
 
“Now tell me your story, my little kitten.”

Kasumi blinked in surprise.
 
“You know about the Neko?”

“Oh, yes,” Ikumi said.
 
“My people and the Neko have known of each other for millennia.
 
They’ve even been allies on occasion.”

“Your people?”

Ikumi smiled enigmatically.
 
“Let me say that there is more to me than just a simple samurai wife.”

Kasumi began to laugh and caught herself.
 
“I’m sorry but there isn’t anything simple about you.”
 
Kasumi took a sip of her tea and let the hot liquid warm her mouth.

Ikumi inclined her head in a nod.

Kasumi began by telling Ikumi the story about Nanashi summoning the demon and her trip up until her meeting Ikumi.
 
Ikumi remained silent the entire time, listening to every word.
 
When at last Kasumi finished, Ikumi took both teacups and refilled them.

“This is a very disturbing story,” Ikumi said softly.
 
“If what you say is true, Nanashi will kill all the Neko and destroy the Guardian.
 
If he succeeds in opening the demon gate, he will bring utter desolation to this world.
 
That cannot happen.”

“Would you help us?” Kasumi asked.
 
“Both Keiko and Kanayo thought you could help the Neko fight Nanashi.”

Ikumi shook her head.
 
“I don’t know what I could do directly.
 
To bring the Takeshi samurai clan against Nanashi would start a war.”

Kasumi bit her lip, unsure what to say.
 
Keiko had sent her here without many instructions.
 
“But if the demons are released, it will be far more terrible.”

“True,” said Ikumi.
 
She frowned and Kasumi could see she was considering all her options.
 
“I will have to speak to Takeshi Isao daimyo, myself.
 
He does not know the intricacies of the Neko and the demon gate.”

Kasumi nodded but some part of her was disappointed.
 
After seeing Ikumi dispel a demon, she expected more than just help from warriors.
 
“Takeshi-sama,” she said.
 
“I was under the impression that the Guardian Kanayo was asking for your talents, not just help from the samurai loyal to Takeshi.”

“Ah,” Ikumi said and took another sip of tea.
 
“And the Guardian has disclosed these so-called talents to you?”

Kasumi shook her head.
 
“Not exactly.
 
But I have seen some of your powers.
 
You caused that demon to flee.”

Ikumi nodded.
 
“Yes, I did.
 
And it won’t come into this place while I am here.
 
But you should be wary, Kasumi, lest the demon overtake you and make you into a
bakeneko
.”

“A
bakeneko
?”
 
Kasumi shuddered.
 
She had heard of the fork-tailed Neko who were possessed by oni.
 
“But I am a demon fighter.”

“Yes, you are, but you are young.
 
Demons are very dangerous, especially to the inexperienced.”

“But I have seen Nanashi’s demon.
 
I turned away the demon on the ocean…”

“Yes, but both times you were lucky; next time you may not be.
 
Nanashi’s demon was most likely so focused on Nanashi and controlled by Nanashi’s amulet that it couldn’t attack you.
 
The demon that pursued you over the sea was undoubtedly a creature of fire and wasn’t willing to face you over the ocean.
 
Just as a wind spirit is weak underground, so the creatures of fire are over large expanses of water.
 
You are lucky I sensed you and the demon before it caught you.”

Kasumi frowned.
 
She had thought that both times it had been her prowess; now it seemed unlikely.
 
She had thought herself a great warrior, but she saw that maybe she was just a very lucky kitten.
 
Why did her mother even think that she could be capable of this mission?
 
Would she have allowed her to go if she had known there was a demon following her?

Ikumi touched her arm gently and Kasumi looked up from her dark thoughts.
 
“I’m sorry Ikumi-sama.
 
I am not the great Neko warrior.”

“Nonsense,” said Ikumi gently.
 
“You are indeed a warrior and have done a great deal.
 
But you are still young and inexperienced.
 
Your mother was wise to have you travel with someone else.
 
It is unlikely a demon will attack unless you are alone or it believes it has the upper hand.”

“That’s why she sent me with Jiro,” Kasumi groaned.
 
“I thought it was just part of the disguise.”

“It might have been that too,” Ikumi said.
 
“I don’t think she believed a demon would follow you, otherwise she would never have sent you.”
 
She paused.
 
“Stay here at our house, Kasumi-san, while you are on my island.
 
It’s the only way I can ensure your safety here.”

Kasumi felt her throat tighten at the thought of the demon.
 
“But what happens after we leave here?”

“You’ll need to return to Neko-shima,” Ikumi said.
 
“I don’t think anyone save a powerful kami would be able to keep you safe.”
 
She paused.
 
“Come tomorrow for tea.
 
Bring your half brother.
 
I’m certain you will want to be sure that your guise is complete.”

With that, Kasumi bowed and left.
 
Her stomach knotted with fear over the oni as she left the daimyo’s home.

Chapter Twenty

“Wake up, Akira-sama!”

Akira groaned as he shifted on the futon in his room.
 
Miko pushed the shoji aside, and sunlight streamed into the room.

“
Ack
!
 
Miko!”
 
Akira gasped, gathering the bedclothes around him.
 
“What is the meaning of this?”

“Master Rokuro wants you to come and train early, Akira-sama.
 
He says that you have had too much idle time on your hands.”
 
She brought him a lacquered tray with a small red earthenware pot of tea, a cup, some rice cakes, and a bowl of miso.
 
“Come eat now.
 
He wants you ready to train in a half hour.”
 
She set the tray down and poured the hot tea.
 
Jasmine wafted gently to his nostrils, and the warm, earthy scent of the miso made his mouth water.
 
“I’ll bring your gi in a moment.
 
You need to eat quickly.”
 
She slipped out of his room and closed the shoji, leaving Akira alone with the food.

Akira got up and slid on his silk trousers and tunic.
 
He walked over to the small tray, picked up the tea, and tasted it.
 
The jasmine was light and not too fragrant; he could still taste the green tea’s grassy texture.
 
The earthenware cup warmed his cold hands, and he rubbed the cup between them in an effort to ward off the chill.
 
The events of the day before left him feeling cold and empty.
 
Rokuro’s rebuke still stung, as did the ronin’s words.
 
Why did the ronin think he was a monster?

That boy, he deals with monsters.
 
He is a monster!

Were the Tengu monsters?
Akira wondered.
 
Did that make him into a monster?
 
He couldn’t answer it, try as he might.

Miko returned with his gi while he was drinking his second cup.

“Aren’t you done yet?”
 
Miko said.
 
“Akira-sama, Rokuro will be greatly displeased with me if you are late.
 
Please eat.”

Akira glared.
 
“Why so early, Miko-san?
 
Rokuro never has me train this early.”

“I don’t know, Akira-sama,” she said.

Akira couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with the ronin or, worse yet, the Tengu.
 
He finished eating and pushed Miko out of the room while he changed into his gi.
 
As soon as he left his room, Miko joined him, leading him to the training area at a quick pace.

Rokuro was already there, two bokken in his hands.
 
“Akira-san, you are late.”

“Please forgive me, Rokuro-sama!”
 
Miko fell to her knees and hid her face in her hands.
 
“I meant to bring him sooner.”

Rokuro smiled.
 
“Don’t worry, Miko-san.
 
I know how lazy this boy is.”

“Thank you, Rokuro-sama.”
 
Miko bowed low, got up, and carefully backed away.

#

“I don’t see why we must visit the local daimyo for tea.”
 
Jiro scowled at Kasumi as they walked through the main gate.
 
“They’re a bunch of enemy samurai.”

Kasumi rolled her eyes.
 
“Takeshi is not an enemy of Naotaka, even though there has been strain between Nanashi and this daimyo.
 
It would be impolite to visit this island without paying our respects to the daimyo’s consort.”

“We’re not even seeing the daimyo?”
 
Jiro snorted.

Kasumi rounded on him.
 
“Do not disgrace me, Brother, or I swear I will give you such a beating that you will run home to your mother in tears.”

For a moment Jiro appeared to get angry, but Kasumi knew that the low growl in her throat would make him hesitate.
 
There was talk among Naotaka’s other wives and children that the Neko were sorceresses.
 
At this moment, she was willing to let Jiro believe it.
 
His expression lapsed into a sullen and surly compliance.
 
He nodded slowly.

“Good,” she said as they walked up the front steps.
 
“I expect for you to not embarrass me.”

#

Akira trembled once again as Rokuro forced him to hold his stance as he held the bokken in ready position.
 
Sharp pains radiated from his thighs up his body, and he shivered with each minute.
 
They had been training most of the morning, and the sun had become unbearably hot.
 
Rokuro refused to even allow Akira to get a drink to quench his parched mouth.

Despite himself, Akira’s mind wandered back to the Tengu.
 
The Karasu-Tengu had taught him many more complex movements; he couldn’t understand why Rokuro insisted that he always work on the basics and never anything more complex.

“Stop daydreaming!”
 
Rokuro smacked Akira’s bokken with his own.
 
Akira focused his gaze in front as sweat stung his eyes.
 
The old sensei walked around Akira and scowled.
 
“I spoke with Ikumi; neither of us wants you to go up on that hill again.”

Akira’s heart lurched.
 
Did Rokuro know he had been training with the Karasu-Tengu?
 
“I don’t understand, Sensei.”

“You don’t need to understand.”
 
Rokuro’s harsh voice emphasized his seriousness.
 
“It’s too dangerous, as that ronin showed you.
 
You could’ve been hurt or killed.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Oh-ho!
 
You think so?”
 
With that, Rokuro slammed his bokken down on Akira.
 
Akira blocked the attack and countered, using the Tengu-taught moves.
 
The sensei spun around and slammed his bokken hard, and Akira had to retreat to absorb the attack.
 
The attacks quickened and Akira circled, trying to get a blow in.
 
Rokuro slipped the bokken by and slammed the wooden blade into Akira’s fingers.

“Ouch!
 
Ouch!” he yelped.
 
He dropped the bokken and pulled away, sucking his fingers in pain.

“You were lucky that ronin was as lousy as he was,” Rokuro said softly.
 
“If he had been a better swordsman, you would’ve been killed.”

Akira pulled his fingers from his mouth to inspect them.
 
They stung badly, but flexing them a little told him they weren’t broken.
 
He frowned.
 
How would he get better if he didn’t learn from the Karasu-Tengu?

Rokuro’s harsh expression softened a bit.
 
“Akira-san, you did very well today, considering.
 
Now go along to the house.
 
You have visitors today.”

“Visitors?”
 
Akira felt a lump in his throat and looked around.
 
The courtyard and gardens were empty, but he wondered if anyone had watched out the open windows at his apparent lack of fighting prowess.
 
He was Takeshi’s only son.
 
What would the other samurai think if they saw him so roundly beaten?

He felt Rokuro’s strong hand on his shoulder.
 
“The visitors are at tea, Akira-san,” Rokuro said.
 
“Your mother is having tea with them.
 
I was told to send you along once you were finished with training.”

Akira’s anger against Rokuro abated as his mind filled with curiosity.
 
“Who are they, Rokuro-sama?”

Rokuro smiled at the honorific.
 
“I see, so I am not such a bad man when there is information to be learned.”

Akira bit his lip.
 
His fingers still throbbed.
 
“Do you know who they are?”

“Samurai, certainly, from Nanashi daimyo.”

“Nanashi.”
 
Akira swallowed hard.
 
He had heard stories of how Nanashi had worked dark magic to win battles against fellow samurai, carving out his territory among the islands.
 
Akira had heard that the emperor had given Nanashi his territories after he destroyed a fleet by calling the winds against the ships and smashing them into the treacherous rocks.
 
Akira had heard stories of how Nanashi called demons to fight for him and do his bidding.

“Nanashi daimyo is not here,” Rokuro said, breaking his reverie.
 
“Go inside and get cleaned up.
 
Your mother will wish a
presentable
son.”

Akira shivered, despite the hot sun on his face.
 
He bowed to Rokuro and took his leave, uncertain of what monsters he might meet in the form of samurai.