At last the awareness of her also faded, replaced by increasing clarity. His mind grew orderly, an undisturbed pond. He opened his eyes wide and looked up at the walls, beyond which his prize waited. His goal was everything now. Moon was tranquil but alert. Ready, eager, and more than that, fearless.
He kept his breathing even as he stood up and stretched. The banks of the moat were quiet, but a splash made him turn. Moon listened, his eyes moving back and forth over the water. There! Giant carp were nosing the surface not far from the bank. They dived skittishly with more splashing, becoming long grey shadows for an instant before they vanished.
Murmuring drifted across the water. Guards' voices. Moon heard another carp splash in the moat as it took a swimming insect. He frowned hard. Light as he was, if just one of those great fish nudged his water spiders, he too would flip over and hang in extreme peril. As he watched he realised that the moat teemed with carp, many of them the length and girth of his leg.
He glanced at the top of the curved wall. A faint glow above the massive stones marked a guard post's cooking fire. Silver Wolf's confident, aggressive men at the Hakone Barrier were amateurs compared with what he could expect here in Fushimi. These castle samurai, charged with protecting their master, would be the best of the warlord's fighters. If he was detected and forced to engage them, he'd be up against men chosen not only for their strength and speed, but for their willingness to lay down their lives for their liege lord. He felt his chest tighten in anticipation.
Moon stared down at the moat, smelling its water and mud. If he capsized out there he had two choices, both of them nasty. He could dangle silently until his held breath ran out and he drowned. Or he could free himself of the floats and swim away frantically, a noisy process on a still night like this. He lifted his eyes to the castle. If that happened, no matter how far he swam submerged first, dozens of arrows would fly from the top of that wall, probing the moat relentlessly until they found him.
Perhaps that glow wasn't really a cooking fire. Maybe the castle was on high alert already, and the guards were prepared to launch fire arrows at the first suspicious sound they heard. He felt his breath quicken. Fire arrows were a triple hazard. They broke the darkness, neutralising night suits. If their tips were bound with oiled cloth, they could even carry light a short distance underwater, revealing a submerged intruder. Worst of all, if they actually pierced their intended target while still burning . . .
He forced that image from his mind. Moonshadow crept into the shadows of a willow overhanging the moat. At the very edge he assembled and fitted the water spiders, then used dangling branches to help him stand and stabilise himself. As he released the willow branches, Moon glanced down at his hands. His fingertips were trembling.
Once he felt in control of the bobbing floats, Moon slowed his breathing again and began taking the long, rhythmic strides which would propel him out over the water. He moved through the darkest shadows, careful not to be seen. A special diet throughout his training had given him exceptional night vision. By halfway across, he could make out fine details on the castle wall.
Torches atop the huge stones lit up the moat with fingers of light. Moon zigzagged forward slowly, keeping to the darkest shadows, arms outstretched at either side as he padded along uneasily on the water. Each wooden float hovered and slid just under the surface. Cold water stung through his sandals and the split-toed cotton boots beneath them. Soon his toes were numb and the chill was climbing up through his ankles. Walking on water was nerve-wracking and awkward, but the technique worked. Trying not to become tense, Moonshadow silently mouthed comforting words: if only Groundspider could see this.
He neared the curved, damp wall and made for his target: a small drain outlet breaking the smooth stones roughly ten paces above the moat. A thin stream of water ran from it constantly, making the stones below it shine. It was a narrow duct. The shuko, his claws, and the grip of his sandals should get him up there, but then would come the hard part.
To fit into that drain, he would need to dislocate his left shoulder. If he could manage that tonight as well as he had in training, he could slide through the castle's under-floor drains to the kitchen or laundry. According to Badger's charts of Momoyama Castle, this particular drain outlet did not come from the latrines.
But what if that was a mistake? He nearly shuddered at the idea. If only he could be sure those charts were unspoiled and accurate! There was a risk that the crucial brushstroke he was relying on had actually been a streak of monkey's dung.
He heard some guards bantering, the sounds of a fire being stoked, more general bustle suggesting a large group of men further along the wall. Why so many on the walls tonight? His heart skipped a beat at the thought that he might be expected. So many samurai up there. What if he was caught?
He had heard what warlords did to spies and would-be assassins caught within their castles. Yes, they were executed . . . eventually. First, patient attempts were made to learn who they served, who had trained them, what their objectives were. Thoughts of how this information was extracted made his blood run cold.
Moonshadow concentrated on the drain. It was dead ahead now, quite close, but a strip of well-lit water lay between him and the dim wall beneath it. He stopped, still in shadow, looking up, hovering as he weighed the problem facing him.
A high parapet overlooked his escape route and, from time to time, voices came from it. Moon shook his head. Great stones beside the observation niche blocked his view into it. Was the parapet empty now or not? There could be guards up there, watching in silence. If so, once he moved forward into that brighter patch of water, he'd be seen. Quickly thereafter, he'd be dead.
He had to make a decision. If the parapet was empty right now, he was already wasting valuable time. If he bobbed around out here for too long, the moon would rise and make him a target even a one-eyed archer could hit. Moon glanced in all directions. Forward now, or not? Moon bit his lip, ordering himself to stay calm. But calm was escaping him now. A huge carp noisily broke the surface to his left. Great! This was all he needed . . . an oversized fish to draw attention to him, even in the shadows! At least there was only one.
Another splash. He looked about quickly. A huge school of giant carp was surfacing all around him, perhaps curious about his water spiders. What if their splashing made the guards investigate? What if, any second, one of these stupid fish tipped him over?
Heron knelt alone on a reed mat in the monastery's small kitchen, staring into the teacup between her palms. The kitchen door slid open behind her. She turned to it.
'So,' Eagle nodded, 'it was you I heard. Such light steps. For a moment there, I wondered if a skilled intruder was loose within our walls . . .' he scratched his neck and muttered, '. . . if my time had finally come.'
'Forgive me,' Heron said, returning her gaze to the steam rising from her tea.
'Did it happen again?' Eagle knelt down beside her. 'Another prophetic dream?'
She looked at him anxiously. 'I saw Moonshadow. I saw him standing, balancing on the white-capped waves of a raging sea, dragons rising all around him. Yet he crosses no oceans on his mission. What could the image mean?'
Brother Eagle shook his head. 'Who can say? But the White Nun warned you last year, when you began the lessons with her, did she not? What were her words? Until long into the training, you would foresee true nonsense: a mix of fact and lies.'
'Yes. As if inks of two different colours had spilled together.'
He smiled tenderly. 'Don't let the murky result scare you.'
'But the White Nun also bade me take careful note of what I sensed on waking, remember? Those impressions, the strings of words, have always been far clearer.'
Eagle gave a single nod. 'Indeed. Those riddle-phrases of yours, as I have called them . . . it's true that so far, as best we can judge them, they have come to pass. So what strange words came to you this dark morning? Were they also about our young Moon?'
'Yes.' Heron gave him a
frightened glance. 'As I woke, this formed in my mind: he will not return, or he'll return with another prize. One for which he'll bleed.'
'How confusing,' Eagle huffed in frustration. 'Does it mean that if he survives, he'll bring back something other than the prize we sent him after? Or that he'll fetch the plans and some further asset Silver Wolf hoards, one we don't know about?'
Heron shrugged. 'I'm sorry, but I have no idea. In poison, smoke or pole-blade, I am the assured teacher. In matters of this science, but a floundering student.' She fixed Eagle with a pleading stare. 'But I fear for him, how I fear for him now!'
Eagle reached out and, with the back of his hand, gently brushed her cheek. 'Then even though your latest riddle is a tangled forest indeed, I shall act on it.'
'How?' Her face brightened. 'What can you do?'
'Groundspider left with orders to collect three other field agents and then meet the boy when his mission was done. In the light of your – our – new concerns, I'll despatch a rider to our safe inn on the Tokaido near Fushimi. He'll carry coded orders for Groundspider to double the number of men who'll escort Moon home.'
Heron took his hand and kissed it, her eyes shining as she held back tears.
'After all,' Eagle shrugged, 'we might need several agents to help carry this other prize.' His face suddenly darkened and he shook his head. 'Let's just pray it doesn't turn out to be something like the warlord's pet tiger.'
TEN
Eye of the
beast
Moonshadow bobbed on the moat, watching in horror as still more giant carp rose and surrounded him. The largest, an enormous black-and-white speckled female, sniffed his foot floats, apparently trying to decide if they were a potential meal.
'No,' Moon whispered desperately. 'These spiders you can't eat.'
His heart raced but he dared not move. From the wall above, the words of a guard reached him. They were surprisingly clear. The man was complaining about how much he wanted to kill some one called Jiro.
'Oi!' A guard with a much deeper voice cut his colleague off. 'Stand in line,' the man said gruffly. 'My sword saw his neck first!'
Then a third fellow spoke, dropping a name that made Moonshadow's heart pound even harder.
'Ah, that Jiro's nothing. Forget his throwing-knife tricks! Gangster trash!' The tone of the man's voice abruptly shifted. 'It's the third one that makes my skin crawl. The Deathless . . . huh! They should call him The Bloodless. At least he's on our side!'
'You know what one of the maids told me?' The first guard piped up. 'She saw The Deathless loosen his hood so he could eat. She said he has the head of a great owl!'
There were murmurs of awe from the other two, then the deep-voiced guard said quickly, 'Enough! We shouldn't be speaking of him. He could be anywhere . . . listening!'
The three fell silent.
Below them, Moon found his thoughts racing to catch up with his heart. The Deathless? And he could be anywhere? It sounded as if Silver Wolf had turned him loose, like a roving guard dog, to wander the castle's grounds. He cast a nervous look back at the banks of the moat. Nothing. But of course such a foe wouldn't show himself before striking.
He glanced down. Carp steadily circled his water spiders. Moon swallowed hard, hoping they would lose interest and move along. But he had more than idiot fish to worry about now. Could it be true? Was The Deathless himself working for Silver Wolf?
This was very bad news! Every shinobi in Japan had heard of the supposedly unkillable assassin. It was widely whispered that The Deathless was no myth. That he truly deserved his title. That he had mastered that most difficult and ancient of Old Country sciences: immunity to the blade of a sword. Heron herself had told Moon, over a year ago, that there really was such a lost art, though nobody in the Grey Light Order understood it.
A fat carp passed within a hand's width of his left foot-float. Moon held his breath. It turned away then dived without bumping the bobbing wood. That title was ringing in his head now. The Deathless. What else did he know about him?
Within the spy community, it was said that only one other man had the same uncanny power: Koga Danjo himself, ninja master and trainer of The Deathless. But a rumour had gone around, a few months back, that The Deathless had murdered his legendary teacher. If that were true, The Deathless alone now possessed his secrets.
The remaining carp circled him a last time then moved away. Moonshadow sighed with relief as he watched them drift towards the bank until they again began to circle, this time in a finger of light that crossed the moat from a burning torch on top of the wall.
Now directly in line with the observation parapet but further away from it than Moon, the great fish started feeding off water-boatmen and other insects teeming in one area.
Moon wrenched The Deathless from his mind and glanced between the carp and the parapet. The speckled one kept breaking the water, its round, shiny head facing the castle walls. That dumb fish, he thought bitterly, had a better-angled view of the parapet than he did.
An idea came to him. Using the eye of the beast, his Old Country science, he could look through that carp's eyes. Learn if the parapet was empty or not. Know whether to move forward or wait. A fine solution, but of course, there was a catch.
To maintain a basic sight-joining, he had to close his eyes. That was fine while hovering, but once he tried to move forward, with his eyes shut, he would be unable to control his balance. It was hard enough balancing on water with his eyes open! If he lost that control and flipped over, empty parapet or not, he would soon be dead or forced to swim for his life, abort the mission and flee. Following his failed attempt, castle security would be tightened even more.
He would never get this chance again, and not only the GLO but through them, the Shogun himself, was relying on him. Important as his duty to the Shogun was, Moon would feel greater shame over failing those who had raised and trained him. So there was no choice; he would have to take an even greater risk. One based on trying something new. He had tried to practise this on the road to Fushimi, but that chance had been dangerously interrupted. Now he had to make it work.
After the first level of sight-joining, basic beast sight, there were two higher stages. Dual sight, seeing through a creature but still using one's own vision at the same time. And the third, final level: sight-control, making a beast obey one's wishes, harnessing them as a weapon.
Moon gave a purposeful nod. Tonight, he wouldn't have to reach quite that far. But he would have to operate on the second level: dual sight. He needed to see through that carp, and now. But he needed the use of his own eyes too. Ready or not, it was time to make the leap. He'd achieved it before, under Eagle's supervision, but only in short, shaky bursts. Now he must do it here, out in the real world, with everything at stake. And make it last.
The speckled carp broke the surface, facing the parapet once more. He closed his eyes and started concentrating on it. His hands trembled. Quickly, vague snatches of the fish's vision appeared, distorted images seen through what looked like two thin, quivering layers of water. The first layer was real, the water of the moat. The second trembling veil was a regular symptom of the joining and one he was used to seeing. Moon breathed in, preparing to open his eyes while holding onto the beast sight now in his mind. His heart beat like a war drum in his chest. He opened one eye and the beast sight vanished. Moon cursed under his breath, closed his eyes and started again. The vision would not come. Eagle's words rang in his anxious mind. To do the impossible, you must first stop caring about the outcome. He realised that fear of failure was blocking his powers. Moonshadow opened both eyes, cleared his mind and recited the furube again.
'Anyway,' a guard's voice abruptly rang from somewhere above. 'I'll bet you three copper coins that The Deathless ends up killing Jiro for us!' Laughter followed.
'You're on, you're on!' a man with a high, squeaky voice replied. Moon heard coins jingling. More laughter followed.
'I will not fear failure, just as I will not f
ail,' Moon whispered. He doggedly repeated the sutra again, and at last regained his calm.
Now he was ready. He closed his eyes and linked his mind to the carp's again. Taking his time, he watched the watery beast-sight images change and distort for a while, then, with a new sense of confidence, he opened both eyes.
He saw the castle wall and the drain ahead of him with his own sight. Super-imposed over it, he saw a different, higher section of the wall at the same time. That image was bending and stretching constantly yet was clear enough for him to make out details.
Moon could see into the mouth of the parapet now. Two guards, one with a spear over his shoulder, were turning and leaving it. A wave of weariness swept through him. Eagle had warned him about this: the highest levels of the gift were demanding. They sucked the life force from their operator so should be used sparingly. He blinked, watching the parapet distort through rippling water. The stone niche was still empty.
Moonshadow gritted his teeth and strode forward to cross the finger of light.
On the town side of the moat, high up on the largest temple's shadowy roof, The Deathless raised a European spy glass to one eye. He gently pulled on the widest end of the segmented cylinder until the spy glass's round, dim image grew sharp.
The Deathless grinned as he watched Moonshadow slowly cross the well-lit strip of water. He swung the spy glass up then left and right. The nearest parapet was empty, the closest guards on the wall unaware of the invader's presence. He lowered the spy glass and nodded.
'How did you time that so well? You must have talents, Runt,' The Deathless muttered. 'But gifted or not, in this world you are still the dove and I the falcon.' He raised the instrument to his eye again. The unknown enemy had now reached the shadowy base of the wall, directly below a drain outlet.
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