The Way of the Fox (13 page)

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Authors: Paul Kidd

BOOK: The Way of the Fox
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Tonbo slipped a dour glance towards Sura.

“Last time, you forgot to take the feathers off before you cooked it.”

Sura
immediately protested.

“If you took the feathers off, then it wouldn’t be crispy!”

The long day was finally over. The assembled contestants formed up and bowed to Lord Masura. The magistrate, dignified and pleased with the many revelations of the day, saluted the contestants in return. He departed with his usual lack of ceremony, Commander Hijiya marching watchfully at his side. Lord Ishigi – attended by his own samurai – strolled along behind. His attendant came racing over from the sidelines holding a considerable purse of gold. Sura saw the man, and rubbed her own hands together in anticipation of her winnings.

“Yes! Kuno – bath!
You guys – let’s sling our stuff into the guest house before all the good spots are taken!” The fox was up and moving, not waiting on ceremony. “I have to see a man about a horse! Ooooh! Five hundred and twelve coppers! That’s rice for four adventurers for three months!”

Off she raced. Helping to collect Kuno’s accoutrements, Chiri watched her go, deeply impressed.

“She made two hundred and fifty times her starting money?”

“Without cheating.” Tonbo took charge of removing Kuno’s armour and carrying the burden. “Come. I need tea.”

They headed towards the guest house, threading their way through a crowd that stood about excitedly re-examining the high points of the day. Several men bowed and called greetings to Kuno as he departed. Chiri was glad. But as she hung back, she turned to take a last look across the field. Her elementals shrank in against her, feeling some strange, unnerving presence nearby.

Not all was well out on the field. Out past the basket headed monk, the Seven Winds school were kneeling in ranks as their master seared them with his scorn.

Hamada Bunji had not joined his fellow students. Instead, he was watching Kuno with genuine hatred in his eyes.

From shadows nearby,
Sano Moko stood watching Bunji. Her face wore a cold, smouldering glare. When Bunji suddenly turned and threaded back amongst the crowds, Sano Moko turned to keep the man under her eye.

Chiri turned away. Holding Kuno’s helmet and wooden sword, she scurried after the others with her elementals sailing close at her side.

 

 

In the evening, a glorious sunset bathed the hills in lavender and orange light. Twilight spread, purple and magnificent, as rain clouds came drifting in across the hills. A fresh scent of rain came blowing on the wind, mingling with the scent of iris flowers, of fresh grass and wet leaves. The town and castle glittered with lamplight.

The castle’s dormitory buildings were filled
to the brim with guests. There were visitors from half a dozen provinces – young samurai, old warriors, wandering students and scholars. Castle guards had come in from their duties to join the celebrations – for tonight, the dormitories were full of life. There were maids and pages, even visitors from the town. The only people conspicuous by their absence were the members of the Seven Winds school. The students kept to themselves in their own rooms, sunk in a brooding silence. The slow, steady ring of the basket-monk’s bell rang out beneath the eaves, echoing out into the trees.

Sura, Kuno, Tonbo and Chiri came running in from the bath houses
, racing to beat a sudden shower of rain. They flitted in beneath a great wide oak tree then up onto the path. The two little elementals looped and curled above them as they ran, sparkling with merriment as they flew.

Sura laughed, and the wh
ole world seemed to laugh with her. Scrubbed clean and dressed in fresh clothes scavenged from their travel packs, the four travellers rested under the eaves. The fox had already insisted on saluting Kuno’s win with sakē at the baths. A delicious dinner had been sizzling, seething and spreading its scent all through the evening air. Sura led the way towards the party, passing by the monk. She tipped the man a salute as she went by.

The m
onk ignored all merriment. Instead, he reached out with his little bronze striker and rang his bell, his other hand diligently telling his rosary beads. Kuno bowed reverently to the monk, then joined the others as they walked on into a room filled with laughter.

The dormitory buildings
had great, broad porches that looked out over an ornamental stream. Guests kept the sliding doors wide open to the warm, clean night as a delightful dinner was served. Hot soup, and a great communal hot pot that filled the air with savoury steam. Dumplings, piping hot – fried river trout and bream. Dried abalone was served with great ceremony. In honour of the ‘official’ observer from Kitsune Mountain, there were fried partridges, fried pheasant, and best of all, wild boar – the belly slab, cooked until the crackling was as crisp as crisp could be. Sura performed great prodigies of eating, mixing sauces for one and all, and sharing out the bounty. Somewhere in the process, she wheedled job interviews for the two ronin from officers of the castle guard, and also managed to arrange for bottles of plum wine via the maids. More screens were opened, and the party grew larger as off duty samurai came flocking to join the fun.

An hour later, Sura was
surrounded by party goers as she stood beside the little stream holding her spear. The shimmering orange spear blade was in the water. Sura called to a laughing samurai who stood upstream, bidding him to drop leaves into the water. The first set of leaves managed to come aground amidst the tree roots, but with some encouragement from the crowd, more leaves were set adrift. One finally drifted down, down, down towards the spear blade.

The leaf touched the edge of the spear. The gentle force of the current pushed, and the leaf slit itself neatly into two. The watching crowd of maids and samurai all cheered, duly impressed.
Sura brandished her spear in triumph, and received a drink from one of the ronin. He and his comrades saluted the fox, who had remained in ‘furry form’ for the occasion.

“A prodigious weapon!”

“Magic!” Sura had perhaps indulged in slightly too much plum wine. She was in a decidedly elevated mood. “This is ‘Leaf Cutter’! The Kitsune ancestral spear!” She drank in salute to the crowd.
“Kampai!”

Samurai, maids and ronin alike all drank in salute. A tall, lanky castle guard
– quite merrily drunk – looked at Sura in awe.


Sura san! How did you get an ancestral weapon?”

Sitting by the porch, Tonbo looked up from his sak
ē cup. He made a patient gesture.


Hmph. She stole it.”

Sura mad
e a pose of immense dignity, gazing down at Tonbo over her muzzle. She then poked out her tongue.


It is not
stolen
. The weapon is in the proper custody of a Kitsune priestess!”

She paused for a moment, looking at her beloved spear. She gazed, remembering the old priestess who had trained her. Patient eyes,
grey-speckled fur, and a laugh that had seemed to bring the whole universe to life. Training her – for who knew what? Reading the ancient stories, and dreaming of adventures. Sura looked upon her spear, and lovingly caressed the red oak shaft. “She’s doing what she’s supposed to do at last…”

More food was arriving –
hot cakes and sweet preserves. Sura thieved a cake as the tray passed by. Another castle guard – a tubby man with a handsome short beard – waggishly called out to the fox.


Kitsune san! You did not think of competing yourself? Such a mighty appetite must fuel great prowess!”

“With a sword?” Sura weaved a hand in dismissal. “
Women are too intelligent to stoop to using a sword! If you let them get
that
close, then clearly you’re doing something wrong!”

“Oh!” The guard was joined in laughter by the crowd. “Is this the infamous
‘Way of the Fox’
?”


The Way of the Fox? No no no no no!” Sura wagged a finger. “For the true Way of the Fox, you anticipate their attack the night before, sneak into their house and burn all of their underpants.”

“But you are trained in the spear?”

“Trained? Not just trained! Talented, my friend!
Graced!”
The fox made a glorious spin with her spear, flicking it about her body and then back behind her as she struck and extravagant
en garde
. “This is dangerous stuff! The
hoko yari
is the weapon of a thinker! Did any of you ever see the Kitsune spear forms?”

Urged on by the audience, Sura stood in the garden and performed an intricate spear kata – one that sent her tail flashing as she turned. It was followed by another kata using her short sword – a weapon that she wielded with her left hand. The crowd applauded her merrily.

Further back along the porch, away from the main festivities,
Kuno sat quietly with Chiri, sharing hot cakes and tea. They watched Sura as she deftly performed her sword and spear moves. It was an odd thing to admit, but Kitsune Sura was actually extremely well practiced. She showed real skill with the
hoko yari
– a weapon whose crossblades allowed a bewildering array of underhanded moves. But as she stood and used a samurai armed with a wooden bokken to help her demonstrate her agility with the short sword, Kuno gave a scowl. He sat straight, watching carefully, his face drawn into a scowl.

“There is something extremely odd about that woman’s technique…” Suddenly the light dawned. “
She keeps her sword on the right!”

Chiri serenely inclined her head.

“She is a kitsune, Kuno san. She is left handed.”

The thought had never
truly occurred to Kuno before. He looked at Sura in shock.


Left handed!” He was astonished! Quite astonished. “That’s inhuman!”

Chiri pour
ed them both tea – her movements calm and perfect. She gave Kuno a quiet, gentle bow.


You are quite correct, Kuno san. Neither Sura san nor I are human.”

Kuno felt
utterly mortified. He immediately bowed to Chiri in profound apology.


Please excuse me. I meant no disrespect.”

Chiri softly and fondly
finished serving Kuno’s tea. Over at the party, Tonbo, Sura, samurai and maids intermingled – all from different worlds. All of them excellent people. The nezumi quietly watched Kuno’s face.


You find Sura san most difficult to understand.”

The samurai ke
pt his back straight, and his face stiff. “Even though she is a priestess, there are occasions when her virtues seem well hidden.”

Chiri sat neatly
, looking demure and beautiful. The girl’s long, pure white hair shone like starlight. He pink eyes were warm and wise. She sipped her tea carefully, enjoying the scents of trees, of earth and rain.


Absolute values are an illusion, Kuno san. What, then, is virtue? Virtue is purity and a positive soul.”

Sura was the life and soul of the party. She was also making sure that the two itinerant ronin were already making friends with their prospective employers. Chiri watched from afar, amazed at the fox’s ability to be immediate friends with so many people from so many worlds.

The imperial
mon
was on one wall of the dormitory: it was the symbol of the sacred islands. Rendered in full, it was a single image made up of the symbols for humanity, elemental and animal spirit, all blending beautifully together.

Chiri gracefully poured more tea – her movements calm and wonderful. She directed Kuno’s gaze out into the gardens.

“Long, long ago, back when the world was made, the celestial heavens had a garden at the borderland of Earth. In the garden, there grew the celestial peaches of virtue. Here were found the peaches that conferred courage or truthfulness, discipline and faith. And apart from a regrettable incident with the Stone Monkey King, the peaches were sacred and undisturbed.”

Laughter fro
m the party formed a warm, beautiful background to Chiri’s voice. She found an inkstone, elegantly laid it before her, and began carefully grinding an ink stick against the stone.


Once every thousand years, the peaches ripened, and a great peach banquet was held for the Gods. When he heard of this, the ancestral kitsune spirit was instantly intrigued. He thought that it would be nice to have some virtues, and he saw no reason why the gods should keep them to themselves.


Sadly for the fox, the orchard was well guarded. Great dragons prowled through the trees, and each one had been warned to keep away all visitors. The fox pondered, and then struck upon a plan.


The kitsune spirit appeared before the gods and bowed. He had heard of their peach banquet, and declared it was unfitting that immortals should serve immortals. He generously offered to serve as a waiter at the banquet. The gods agreed – but they were not entirely foolish. They gathered all the peaches that held obvious virtues. Strength, Honour, Heroic Endurance, Truthfulness and Selflessness and many more. These they kept a careful eye on. The fox would only be allowed to handle those peaches on which the gods set no store.

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