The Way of the Fox (26 page)

“I will not betray what we have together, Benten san. You must trust me!”

“No
… no, you cannot do this!”

“
I must.” The girl hastily wiped her eyes with her sleeves. There was real steel in her voice. “I must. We have an opportunity at last! Everything we have worked for can bear fruit tonight!”

The night watch
was on alert again, and were returning with the maid and page boy. Akiko led Benten out into the street and approached the soldiers. Benten bowed to the men with a stoic, frozen face.

“
It is dangerous at night. Mama Ippongi wishes me to conduct Hanako-san safely into and out of the castle.” He turned to Akiko and bowed to her. “Hanako san. I will see you to the lord, and wait at the gatehouse until you depart.”

Akiko clearly felt pained, but hid it
well. She gave Benten a respectful bow.

“
That may not be until morning, Benten san.”

Benten held his bow with military precision.

“It is my duty.”

The night guard were satisfied with the whole affair. They waved the little group onward. With t
he page boy in the lead, Akiko and her fellow maid headed for the castle with a slow, reluctant tread.

Benten marched behind
with shoulders bowed, one hand gripping tightly about the handle of his sword. High above, the castle walls blanked out the pale, dim stars.

Dawn came flooding inward from the east, ligh
ting the skies first grey, and then with a beautiful morning gold. Inside the village inn, paper covered windows glowed. The innkeeper and his maid stirred about their business, lighting fires in the kitchens and bath. Water was drawn, fires were lit – pots and pans clashed. Grains were washed to make the morning porridge, and someone almost fell over a bucket, kicking it clean into a cat. The resultant row rang out loud and clear all through the building.

Kuno and Tonbo lay asleep inside their bed
s, each with armour neatly ordered out beside them, their weapons close at hand. By contrast, Sura’s bed was a comfortable tangle of quilts and clothing. Her beloved spear was there beside the mattress, as well as her short sword, old socks, a couple of throwing knives, and an eggshell stuffed with pepper just in case anything decided to become feisty. Her clothes were piled in a careless tangle, and a little folded book filled with her own strange drawings lay by the pillow. She always slept in animal form, free and easy – a furry bundle usually slumbering in a glorious sprawl.

Flying in the face
of Kuno’s grumbling expectations, Sura gave a great yawn, a stretch, and woke up bright and early. It was the first day of a new case, and she was eager to be off and nosing about other people’s business. But first came some of the pleasures of the early morn. The fox emerged up and out of her quilt, stretching her back legs and flexing her black-furred toes. There was a slight crick in her back, and it simply refused to go away. She arched her back first one way and then the next, but the damned thing refused to right itself. Sura finally decided that she would live with it. She shook out her fur, then picked her way silently past Kuno and Tonbo as they slept. She nosed open the door into the inn, and
trot-trot-trotted
out into the room beyond. She passed the rather astonished maid and nodded a good morning to the innkeeper.

“Heyo
!”

“
Aaah! Good morning, Kitsune san!” The man was wonderfully pleased to see a visitor in full animal form. He came forward, drying his hands upon a towel. “I have found some eggs! We shall have an omelette for breakfast!”

“You, sir, are a mighty
brass-bound hero out of legend!” The fox headed eagerly to the door. “Are the baths hot?”

“Hot,
Kitsune san! Your companion is already inside.”

“Excellent! Time for a bath.”

Sura headed for the porch. The innkeeper waddled ahead of her to open the bathhouse door. Sura flitted out, across a little path of sawn rounds of old logs, and hopped up the steps into the bath house. She entered a space deliciously filled with steam.

Chiri – ever a
n amphibious young rat – already lay luxuriating in the water. She loved the echoes and the peace. Indeed – the bath was one of the few places where even Sura fell quiet and simply lazed. Chiri looked over as Sura entered. Daitanishi and Bifuuko both nosed up out of the water and peeked over the edge of the immense old wooden tub. The air elemental wagged her wings in welcome.

Sura hopped up ont
o the wooden boards beside the bath. “Hey guys! Good morning beautiful rattie! Hey – they found eggs! We get eggs for breakfast!”

Chiri was immensely fond of eggs. She beamed, rising up to lean on the edge of the tub.

“That sounds lovely, Sura san. You were right – the Tao did provide...” The rat sighed – steam simmering from her white skin. “Ooooh – isn’t this wonderful? I could stay in here all day!” She arose naked from the water. “Did you want me to do your fur? Please allow me to assist you.”

Each of
an animal spirit’s three forms – animal, fur-form and human – had its own unique maintenance required. To stay in peak perfection, fur needed proper grooming. Without it, the fur became lank, and itchy skin would carry over into other forms. Chiri came hot and dripping from the tub and sat herself down beside the fox. Sura stretched out on a wooden board while Chiri delicately ladled hot water over Sura from end to end. Sura winced – the water was hot! She flexed her paws. Chiri wet her fur through and through, then set to work on cleaning.

The usual cleaning agent was sand, although the inn offered a rather eye-watering lye soap made of ash and whal
e oil. Chiri never used the stuff herself – and she was well aware that common soap agitated Sura’s skin. The nezumi girl had formulated something far, far gentler – a little alkali and hemp oil prepared with herbs. She took a small slice of the concoction into her hands, then worked it through the fox’s fur from nose tip to tail. Sura made a single guttural noise of total surrender, and then went utterly limp and pliant in Chiri’s hands.

The rat kneaded her like dough on a slab.
She washed thoroughly, working through dense, plush layers of inner fur to reach the skin beneath.

“
Forgive me Sura san, but your fur needs more attention. Some sort of gentle hair oil would be a great advantage. If you wish, I will find some herbs to help bring it to a shine. Peach kernel oil, perhaps...”

“
Peaches would be oddly appropriate.” Sura looked back at Chiri. “You can do that?”

“Oh yes, Sura san.
I often used to sell herbs and medicines in exchange for food. Or when I was writing stories, I could swap stomach medicines for paper…” Chiri made quite sure that she had washed inside Sura’s ears. “At least you have no fleas.”

“Hmm? Oh – no, t
hey left when I insisted that they start paying rent.”

“Ah
. A moment...”

The rat held Sura’s hips in one hand, and pushed and stretched at her backbone gently. Something in Sura’s lower back went
crick
and popped itself back into place.

“There we are
!”

Sura gave a great sigh of relief.

“Oooh rattie. Thank you thank you. May you soar with the immortals, and win past the gates of heaven.”

Chiri rinsed Sura off with a bucket of hot water.
She clambered back into the bath, carrying the fox with her. Once in the water, Sura changed herself into human form. Tail streaming in the water beneath her, she lounged back, propped Daitanishi between her breasts, and gave a sigh.

“I love being on the road. Sleeping by a stream. Or finding a really good tree.
..” She relaxed her head back against a wooden pillar. “But oooh – I wish we could somehow take one of these things with us.”

Chiri floated happily, enjoying the peace before the
labours of the day began.

“It is a very good day to be alive, Sura san.”

“It is indeed.”

The
y floated in the steam and contemplated the richness of life. After a long, pleasant silence, Sura lifted the tip of her tail out of the water and looked at the fur.

“Peach kernel oil?”

“Peach kernel oil.”

Loud
voices suddenly sounded from inside the inn. There was a tramp and clatter of approaching feet, and a definite clank of armour, though clearly no sounds of alarm. Moments later, the door to the bath house slid open a polite, small crack, and an armoured samurai knelt beside the opening. He bowed briskly, eyes averted, with one hand planted on the ground.

“
Please excuse me. I seek the priestess Kitsune Sura.”

The fox called out from the bath, giving splash for emphasis.

“She’s in here and naked!”

The samurai grimly bowed again. “
Honoured priestess! We ask your presence at the castle at once. The lord is dead, and we ask you to pray for his soul’s repose.”

Sura erupted out of the bath and poked her head through the door.

“We will be with you at once, samurai.”

“
Thank you, priestess.”

The two women turned to animal form, shook themselves dry, and raced out past the samurai and towards the inn. Two soggy elementals followed fast upon their tails.

It was dawn – and the Spirit Hunters’ day had just begun with a vengeance.

Chapter 4

The lower floor of the castle keep was filled with activity. Stony-faced samurai
were on guard at every door, and stiff-faced officers – white with shame – were going woodenly about their duties. A slew of women hastened past, head down, deep in the throes of official mourning. Foot soldiers outside the keep had all been called to arms.

Tonbo remained outside, walking off to speak with some common soldiers nearby.
Sura – looking professionally grave – mounted up into the keep. She wore her gorgeous formal suikan and tall eboshi cap. Chiri came demurely at her rear, neatly dressed and carrying a green branch plucked from a tree beside the inn. The elementals were hidden out of view inside her sleeves.

A man in magnificent robes and carrying expensive swords came into the main
chamber. Judging from the instant deference of everyone around him, Sura took the man to be the castle commander – Lord Raiden’s heir. He seemed a dour, angry, resentful sort of man. He did not seem exactly prostrate with grief: understandable, since he had just inherited the leadership of the most powerful military clan in the empire. The man caught sight of Sura, gave a jerk of a nod, and signalled to an officer. The officer bowed, and made haste to run to Sura. Bowing, he indicated the way upstairs.

No one seemed to be in any mood to speak. Sura made her way grandly up the
polished wooden stairs, the train of her white silk suikan trailing elegantly behind her. Chiri came as close behind as she dared, nervously waving her green branch a little, hoping that it marked her role as an assistant to an official priest.

The second level
of the keep was almost silent, although the maids still moved with heads hanging, fearing explosions of rage or blade. Clearly no one was shedding actual tears for the deceased – but there was also a great deal of fear and foreboding. Sura looked up the stairwell, then tapped at the officer with her fan.

“His
lordship’s body has been left undisturbed?”

“Yes, priestess.” The officer did not halt his climb. “
The priest from the mountain shrine is here. The old monk from the town is with him. The monk insisted that you join them immediately, since you are the ranking priest.” The officer kept his posture resolute – but he was clearly nervous about approaching the upper floor. “This way. Come.”

“How did his
lordship die?”

“It was his heart,
priestess.”

The officer indicated the way up to the next level,
and then the next: apparently Lord Raiden had taken the top floor as his residence. Sura plodded her way upstairs, and finally came to the tower’s highest level.

Two armoured samurai knelt on guard at the top of the stairs. The lord’s apartments filled the rest of the floor. Sura turned elegantly to the officer who had ushered her up the stairs, opening out her fan with its nine-
tailed fox.

“Th
ank you for your guidance, sir.” Sura gave a bow – her tall cap staying rigidly in place. “We will bless the body and purify the room. Please do not disturb us until the ceremony is done. Great impurity and misfortune would certainly result.”

“
Yes priestess.” The officer bowed. “My men shall be here. Call them should you require anything.”

The man bowed, and hastened back downstairs. With the old lord dead and his son taking over, this was an excellent day for officers to be
helpful, efficient and indispensible. Sura could only applaud the officer’s practicality.

The two samurai opened up the apartment door and bowed. Regally – as befitted so senior a priestess – Sura drifted past, robes whispering against the floo
r. Chiri scuttled in after her. Sura turned and serenely inclined her head to the two guards. The samurai sealed shut the doors.

Alone with Chiri and the elementals at last, Sura heaved a sigh of relief and tilted back her cap. She looked about the ante chamber –
all polished wood and tasteless imported paintings. A statue of Daikokuten, the god of wealth, sat in an alcove that almost filled one wall. Sura arched a brow, then led the way into the main chamber.

A bed
sat in the middle of the floor. Splayed upon the quilt lay the body of an old man – Lord Raiden.

The man’s
hair stood stiff. His face was contorted into a frozen expression of absolute, mind-numbing terror.

A writing desk sat to one side of the room, complete with inkstone, brushes and
a counting frame. Kneeling at either side of the body were the old monk who served as a town elder, and a small, crabbed little man dressed as a Shinto priest. He wore white robes somewhat like a less extravagant version of Sura’s suikan, and a far, far smaller hat. He took an instant dislike to Sura.

The fox could
have cared less. She knelt and bowed to her religious colleagues. Chiri bowed beside her – ever perfect in her etiquette. The old monk nodded to them in thanks.

“Kitsune
Sura. Nezumi Chiri. Thank you for coming. This was not a good man. If any man ever needed the intercession of a reibai for his soul’s repose, it is Lord Raiden.”

“
I thank you for calling us.” Sura looked at the body sprawling on the quilt. “Yes – so here is the great lord – slayer of the Usagi, destroyer of realms.” The fox bowed her head and opened up her palms. To the astonishment of the Shinto priest, a dance of faint blue light swirled softly about her hands.

“There is a vessel that has no sides

Infinite, it can never be filled.

Eternal, it may never be emptied.

Fathomless, it is the origin of all things…
”

She did not pray for the man himself. It was simply an act of respect for life transitioning into death: for all those aspects of the tao, great and small, near and far. Sura finished her prayer, and the lights flowed off and out into the world all around her. The old monk watched in absolute wonder. He looked to the fox – Chiri stared as well. They suddenly felt in touch with a greater world.

Sura
opened her eyes. The dead man was waiting. She pushed back her long sleeves and came closer to the body, looking carefully at its face. She was immediately interested.

The monk nodded
thoughtfully. “I believed you should see this, Sura san. I have insisted he be left as he lay until you arrived.”

The Shinto priest looked at the fox and gave a great pompous
flick of his sleeves.

“
The doctor has diagnosed the lord’s death as heart failure. It is unseemly that Lord Raiden be left so.”

Sura
leaned over, slowly and carefully examining the dead man without touching him. Concentrating upon the job, she automatically spoke nonsense to placate the priest. “Mmmm… It is important for my rituals that I see the body in an undisturbed state. Allow me to attend to him myself.”

The dead lord’s face was a shockin
g sight – mouth wide open, eyes staring. The bedding had been pushed violently down towards his feet, as though the man had been scrabbling backwards, away from the outer windows as he died. Sura considered it all carefully, and tapped at her chin.

“
Who exactly was this doctor?

The priest glowered. “
He is Raiden Katsura’s personal physician.” The man sourly paraded his knowledge. “Raiden Katsura is the commander of this castle. As the eldest son of Lord Raiden, he is now lord of the clan.”

“Provided no uncles or cousins try to beat him to the punch.”

The priest stiffened. “Raiden Katsura is the true and rightful heir!”

“Of course he is. And how useful it is to have a doctor so close to the place of need.” The fox
was still quite absorbed by her close examination of the corpse. “Tell me, colleague – does this keep possess a shrine downstairs?”

The old monk nodded that it was so. “
Yes Sura san. It has a most miraculous statue of Kannon.”

“
Prayers said in such a place must surely carry great weight. Since our priestly colleague is the man best connected with the family, perhaps you could show him to pride of place in the shrine, and assist him in his prayers?”

The monk cast a swift eye at the corpse, and
began to catch Sura’s drift. The copper coin dropped, and he gave the fox an immediate bow.

“Ah! Yes. That is an excellent plan
! The family will be most comforted to see their familiar priest firmly in control of the main ceremonies.” He bowed to the Shinto priest. “Colleague – please allow me to assist you. Sura san can tidy things here, ready for the removal of the corpse.”

The priest
arose – pleased at last to be receiving proper recognition. With lofty self importance, he made his way to the apartment doors, pausing to look back imperiously at the fox.

“We shall leave you to say the eleven
-fold blessing, the ninefold blessing and the three obeisance.”

“Eleven, nine, three! Never fear, I’m on the job!”

“Quite so.” The priest glowered. “Since you will be ordering the body, you will then be ritually unclean! Ensure that you do not touch food intended for others, and avoid the number seven.”

“
Seven! Gotcha!” The fox arose to hasten the two men out of the door. “Excellent! It will all be seen to! Good luck with your ceremonies!”

She shut the door behind the
m, heaved a sigh of relief, then pulled off her ridiculously tall cap and sailed it aside.

“Right
– finally! Chiri – Daitanishi – Bifuuko! Let’s get to work.” Sura flitted to a window and looked down into the grounds. “Couriers are heading out. Katsura’s men. He’ll be hoping to lock down his claim on the fief, fast.” The fox dusted off her hands. “There is no gift quite as joyous as confusion amongst your foes!”

Chiri looked at
the corpse and gave a frown. “Do you believe that Lord Raiden was murdered?”

“Oh yeah.
He was murdered. That is
not
a happy face.” Sura cast an eye around her. “You guys check the room. See if you can spot anything suspicious. I’ll man-handle the dead guy.” Sura sniffed.
“Feh!
He smells like liquorice.”

Chiri lay down, shimmered,
and changed form. As a sleek white rat, she crawled out of her empty clothes, shook herself, then groomed her fine long whiskers.

“There may be secret entrances! I shall go and see.”

The rat twittered off, pink tail waving. Her elementals went with her. Left with the corpse, Sura set about the business of examining it inch by inch, hunting for the tale of Lord Raiden’s demise.

The dead man’s bedding was extravagant – silk brocade, utterly glaring to the eye. His wooden pillow
was clearly one he had brought with him – an old favourite, well worn. It had been painted with representations of the god of wealth – as though he wanted wealth right there with him as he slept. Kuno would decidedly have not approved.

Apart from the dead man’s expression, there were no real signs of violence – although his hair was standing utterly out on end!
Sura checked carefully inside the dead man’s mouth – behind his lips and under his tongue. She inspected fingertips and beneath fingernails – on his neck, and behind his ears for marks of combat or puncture marks.

There was a very faint scent of singed hair… And
definitely a smell not unlike aniseed and old bug juice…

Chiri was nosing about the shrine in the antechamber, checking for gaps and hidden s
paces. Her elementals carefully searched the ceiling and windows. The little rat sniffed her way thoughtfully across the floor, sampling the air, then turned back to look up at the statue of the god Daikokuten.

“
The god of wealth?” Chiri gave a scowl of disapproval. “Surely that is not seemly for a warrior lord?”

“Well – guess he had his own priorities…”
Sura heaved the body over, struggling with the stiff, awkward cadaver. Lord Raiden’s back was dull purple, where the blood had settled, but there were no clear signs of foul play. Sura let him thud back down into place, and dusted off her hands.