Seven Paths to Death

by Dorothy Hoobler

“Well,” said Ito, “the original map was far too dangerous to have around. After old Lord Osuni died, the shogun’s officials came to examine his domain. Nothing could be held back from them. If they discovered the map, the secret would be out, and the shogun would execute everyone in the family. So . . .”

  “She found seven young men willing to carry it on their backs for her.”

  “That’s what happened.”

  “But wouldn’t she have kept you all close?”

  “All together, we might have aroused suspicions. She said she would know how to find us when the time came. We were promised another reward when she needed us, so that seemed all right. But then Boko spoiled things.” Ito stopped talking and stared into the dark sky.

  “Boko?” the judge prompted.

  “He thought he was smarter than the rest of us.”

  “People who think that often do foolish things,” said the judge.

  A bell rang. It was the night bell at the front gate. The judge frowned. “Only bad news arrives in the middle of the night,” he said. “Bunzo, see who is there.”

  “What about . . .” Bunzo motioned toward Ito.

  “Seikei can protect me, if necessary,” said the judge.

  Inwardly, Seikei smiled. Though the judge looked fat and slow, he had mastered the use of virtually every weapon available. He had once saved Seikei’s life with an astonishing arrow shot.

  There was no need for action. Ito merely bowed his head and waited.

  When Bunzo returned, he handed the judge a piece of paper, folded and sealed with wax. The judge opened it and scanned the message quickly. He looked at Ito. “I’m afraid you will have to remain here as my guest a while longer,” he said.

  Ito’s face fell. “What’s the matter? I’ve told you the truth, far more than I should have.”

  “It’s for your own good,” said the judge. “Was one of your friends named Tatsuo?”

  Ito’s jaw dropped. By now he must have believed the judge was a magician. “Yes,” he said.

  “This note informs me that the men I entrusted with guarding Tatsuo were not up to the task. Someone has killed him. And stripped the skin from his back.”

  Ito moaned. “That’s what she did to Boko.”

  7

  BOKO’S FATE

  The night bell had awakened the judge’s housekeeper, Noka. When she discovered people were up and talking, she brought sake and rice balls. Seeing that this made the monkey jealous, she found some lichee nuts for him.

  Though the monkey was content, Ito was not. Despite the judge’s assurances that he would be safe, Ito was shaking and kept glancing behind him. “Now you know why I tried to have the tattoo removed,” he said. “She’ll find us all.”

  “Lady Osuni is here in Edo,” the judge said. “She is required to live in the capital every other year under the shogun’s scrutiny. Tatsuo, however, was killed far away in Echigo.”

  “What difference does it make? She is rich. She can hire people to do what she wants. Ninjas. They can go anywhere. Even here.”

  A shiver went down Seikei’s back. He recalled feeling the ninja’s presence when he had left Rofu’s lair.

  “Your only hope,” the judge told Ito, “is to be honest with me. I need to find the other men with the maps on their backs.”

  “That won’t do you any good. I didn’t tell you yet about Boko.”

  “Yes, what about him?”

  “He quickly spent the money he received for allowing his back to be tattooed. So he demanded more. He had some idea that now he was like a valuable object that his owner had to take good care of. Well, the rest of us thought he was taking a chance, but then Lady Osuni’s chamberlain offered to let Boko live in the castle.”

  “A generous offer,” said the judge.

  “Yes, except that we heard no more of Boko until somebody met a tanner who lived outside the town.”

  “A tanner.”

  “Yes, I know they’re outcasts—unclean people because of the work they do. Stripping animals of their hides, stretching and drying them. Putting their hands in death and blood. But one of the men in our group did business with this tanner, who told him . . .” Ito paused, unwilling to finish the story. Bunzo refilled the man’s glass and motioned for him to drink. That helped. Pale, he went on: “The tanner had been called to the castle to do a job. They showed him a dead man, and—”

  “The tanner was to turn the skin on his back into leather,” finished the judge.

  Ito nodded. “To preserve it,” he added. He went silent for a moment, remembering. “That was when we knew how little our lives meant to Lady Osuni.”

  “How was it, then, that you came here to Edo?” the judge asked.

  “I wasn’t the only one.” He glanced at the judge, clearly wondering how much he knew. “Edo’s a big place. You’d think you could get lost here, wouldn’t you?”

  “Many try,” the judge agreed. “Your friend Rofu thought so.”

  “You found Rofu?”

  “Or he found us,” the judge said. “He seemed to want my son to make a copy of his tattoo.”

  “Yes, that was Rofu’s idea—that we could save ourselves by making copies of our tattoos. He thought we should all keep in touch, so that when the time came . . .” Ito trailed off.

  “What time was that?” the judge asked.

  “When Lady Osuni needed to reassemble the map. He thought if we stayed together, we could protect ourselves. Not everyone agreed. Tatsuo was always a loner, and now that she’s killed him . . . Don’t you see? The time is beginning.”

  “And that means she may now plan to use the weapons,” said the judge. “We have no time to spare. Tell me how I can find the other men who were tattooed.”

  “I don’t know. Maybe Rofu would know. I did see one of them at a fire in Edo. Michio is his name.”

  “A fire? What was he doing?”

  “Helping to put it out. Joining the fire brigade was a good idea, I thought. Many of the firefighters have tattoos, so he wasn’t so noticeable.”

  “What part of the city was this in?”

  “Yotsuya, west of the castle.”

  The judge nodded. “Very good.” He glanced at Bunzo, who nodded. It should be easy to find someone within the city’s fire prevention force, which was under the judge’s authority. “And the other two?” he asked Ito.

  “Their names were Korin and Gaho. Korin’s father was a carpenter. Probably he found work in that trade.”

  “Here in Edo?”

  Ito shrugged. “If so, I never saw him.”

  “Was there anything distinctive about him?” the judge asked.

  Ito looked at his hands. “Only . . .”

  “Yes. The ya-ku-za tattoo. And Gaho? What was he like? Did he have a trade?”

  “He was incapable of working at a trade. He liked to gamble.”

  “A difficult way to make a living.”

  “He would organize games for people who weren’t used to gambling. Introduce them, provide a safe place where the shogun’s officials wouldn’t meddle—” Ito cut himself short, eyeing the judge to see if he was offended.

  The judge simply said, “The shogun forbids gambling to prevent people from losing their money to no purpose.”

  “Some win,” Ito said with a wry smile. “Everybody likes to hope they’ll win. Hope is worth having. And people say you can gamble at Yoshiwara.”

  “Many rules are suspended in Yoshiwara. The shogun recognizes weakness too,” said the judge. “Do you know where Gaho operated his games?”

  Ito hesitated before saying, “No.” Seikei could see he was lying.

  “Well,” said the judge. “Since you’ll be staying here, you’ll have time to recall.”

  Ito looked around him, as if he had been trapped. “Here? I don’t want to stay here. I’ve told you everything I know.”

  “You’ll be safe here,” the judge said in a soothing tone. “I can’t guarantee your safety any other place.”

  “I
’ll take that chance,” said Ito. He picked up the monkey and stroked its back. “Bula and I are used to moving around. If we stay in one place, Lady Osuni will come for us.”

  “She can’t come here,” the judge said.

  “But those who work for her can,” insisted Ito.

  The judge did not speak for a moment. Seikei could tell he was irritated, but was merely controlling himself. “Nevertheless,” he said firmly, “you must stay.”

  Ito shook his head. “You have everything you want from me.” He pointed to Seikei. “He’s copied the map. That’s all I have to give you.”

  Silently, Seikei agreed. He was tired of this ever-complaining petty thief and his monkey. Why would the judge want them in his house for a moment longer?

  “But you still carry the map on your body,” the judge explained. “I cannot allow it to fall into the wrong hands. What happened to Tatsuo could happen to you.”

  Reluctantly, Ito gave in, though Seikei wondered how sincere he was. “Noka will show you to your room,” the judge said. “But first, I want you to look at the three maps we have already collected.”

  “Is that mine?” Ito asked as Seikei displayed the latest of the three copies.

  “Yes.”

  “Odd, isn’t it?” Ito said. “I have carried it for ten years, but never knew what it looked like before now.”

  Seikei unrolled the other two maps he had collected. Ito nodded as he saw each one.

  “Now, we want to see if any of these fit together,” said the judge. “Or if you recognize anything that will help us learn where this place is located.”

  Seikei arranged the maps in every possible order, even turning them upside down, in an attempt to make them fit. But to no avail.

  “Do you recognize any of the landmarks?” the judge asked Ito.

  “They are a puzzle to me. The Osuni family had many lands.”

  “Very well,” said the judge. “Bunzo, send some reliable men to watch over Lady Osuni’s mansion in Edo. They must let us know at once if she attempts to leave the city. In the morning, you can search for this firefighter Michio.”

  Bunzo nodded and went to carry out the judge’s orders. The judge sent Ito and the monkey off with his housekeeper.

  “Are you sleepy?” the judge asked Seikei.

  “No. I’m too excited,” Seikei said. “I want to know how you plan to find Korin and Gaho.”

  “That will take some luck,” said the judge, “although I have a few ideas. Right now I want you to conceal yourself outside this house and wait for Ito to escape.”

  “And then bring him back?”

  “No. I’m afraid he is not a person one can keep cooped up—unless I simply put him in chains. Even then, we might find that the monkey can pick locks. Ito may be more useful to us by attracting someone else.”

  “Someone else? One of the others with maps on their backs?”

  “No. I want you to follow him, but leave a distance between you. I am interested in seeing who else may follow him.”

  “Should I then capture that person?” Seikei was eager to do something bold.

  “No,” the judge said, frowning. “Because I suspect that will be a very dangerous person indeed.”

  8

  THE RETURN OF THE FOX

  The judge was right. It didn’t take very long for Ito to slip out of the house, once the lights inside were extinguished. Fortunately the moon was nearly full and Seikei had no trouble following him. Ito carried the monkey on his shoulder, making his silhouette unmistakable.

  After curfew the city was patrolled by special squads of police. However, since they announced their approach by clapping wooden sticks, Ito and Seikei had time to conceal themselves in the shadows of alleyways or overhanging roofs.

  Emerging slowly from the darkness after one patrol had passed, Seikei thought Ito had given him the slip. He started to hurry, but then saw a dark figure emerge from a doorway not far ahead. It wasn’t a very large doorway, and Seikei was surprised anyone could have hidden there.

  Then his blood ran cold as he realized the figure had no monkey with him. It was not Ito. This new figure was harder to keep sight of. It would disappear into a dark place along the street and then not emerge where Seikei expected. Often Seikei hesitated, afraid of catching up to the other man, and that caused him to fall behind. Only occasionally now did Seikei catch any sight of Ito, but the shadowy figure seemed to be on his trail. Seikei kept trying to get close enough to identify his new quarry. The figure was dressed entirely in black: a tight-fitting kosode jacket and trousers. That could mean he was a ninja, but it might indicate only that he was prepared for trailing by night. He didn’t wear the two swords—one long, one short—that were the mark of samurai rank. Ninjas used other weapons—silent, surprising, and as deadly as any sword.

  Seikei wondered where Ito was leading them. He had thought at first that the monkey man might be heading for the temple where he usually slept, but if so, he was taking a long way around. Besides, the temple’s gates would be shut tight at this hour. Where could Ito expect to find shelter or a person to take him in?

  The part of the city they were in now seemed somehow familiar. Seikei realized they were close to the place where Rofu had his hiding place. What could Ito want with him? Did he know Rofu had already fled?

  Seikei realized he had momentarily lost sight of the man following Ito. He strained his eyes, and then glimpsed something that made him stop in his tracks.

  Out of the shadows up ahead emerged a small animal, four-legged with a bushy tail. Not the monkey. It was unmistakably a fox.

  If so, Seikei could think of only one explanation, and if he was correct, he would be foolish to take even one step farther. Yet he knew he must, and forced his feet to go faster.

  Was it really possible, he asked himself, that the man following Ito was the ninja Kitsune? That would explain the strange feeling that Seikei had had when he’d left Rofu’s hiding place. Kitsune had been there, watching.

  Seikei rounded a corner, a little out of breath. Up ahead he saw quite clearly the man with a monkey on his shoulder. But he could also see what the man did not: gaining speed behind him was a running fox.

  The monkey sensed the danger before Ito did. It screeched and stood up, but too late. The fox leaped through the air and over Ito’s shoulder, taking the monkey with it.

  Ito reacted much too slowly. After all, who would expect to be attacked by a fox in the middle of a city like Edo? By the time he recovered his wits, the fox was already halfway down the street, holding the screeching monkey in its jaws.

  Finally, Ito began to run. Seikei followed behind, now wishing that the night patrollers would show up. He realized that he couldn’t catch up to Ito the way the man was running now.

  The trio in front of him rounded another corner and the noise faded away. By the time Seikei reached the spot, there was nothing to be seen.

  Seikei could hear only the sound of his own heavy breathing. The monkey had somehow been silenced. Seikei continued moving forward, more slowly now, trying desperately to see or hear anything that would give him a clue.

  Up ahead was the edge of one of the moats that crisscrossed the city, designed to ward off any attackers who landed on the waterfront. Seikei stared down at the dark, foul-smelling water. Something floated there, crossing a streak of reflected moonlight, among the trash and debris that the tide would soon take out.

  Something furry.

  The monkey had performed his last trick.

  But where was Ito? And Kitsune?

  The silence was overpowering to Seikei. Shouldn’t he hear something? Footsteps, cries of pain, shouts . . .

  No. Only the faint splash of water lapping against the sides of the canal.

  A sudden hunch made Seikei look up. Another object was moving on the canal, almost too far away to be noticed: a flat-bottomed wooden boat, the kind scavengers used to collect refuse and night soil. Dimly, Seikei glimpsed a figure standing in the rear, using a
pole to push the craft forward. His back was turned, and Seikei could not see his face. But who else could it be but Kitsune?

  Was Ito with him? If so, he must be lying on the bottom of the boat. Seikei searched the water’s edge, but could see nothing to indicate what had happened to Ito.

  There was nothing to do but return to the judge’s house and report—once more—a failure.

  The judge, however, didn’t think Seikei had failed. “We suspect strongly now that Kitsune is involved. That means he is working for someone wealthy and highly placed, for no one else could afford his services. Which points, of course, to Lady Osuni.” The judge paused to think, then asked, “Did the ninja see you?”

  “I don’t think so,” said Seikei. “He was intent on following Ito. He didn’t seem to be looking behind him.”

  “Ninjas have strong powers of awareness. But clearly Ito was his target.”

  “Do you think he’s dead?” Seikei asked.

  “Ito? Possibly. If so, you mustn’t blame yourself. He chose to leave here, though he knew of the danger.”

  The judge looked at Seikei. “You too must be fully aware of what a serious situation this is. You defeated Kitsune once before. He is not accustomed to losing, and would welcome the chance to take revenge. On you.”

  “I am not afraid,” said Seikei.

  “Then you disappoint me, for you should be. Kitsune has many skills—all deadly. I wonder if it would not be best for you to go to Shizuoka and search for Korin, the carpenter who is one of the seven tattooed men.”

  “Shizuoka?” It was a small town a few days’ ride from Edo. “Have you received word that Korin is there?”

  “A fire recently destroyed much of the town,” the judge replied. “That means there will be a great deal of work for carpenters. Several of these tattooed men seem to have adopted a rootless, wandering existence. It seems likely that Korin would be among the carpenters who will appear there in search of jobs.”

  Seikei could not deny the likelihood of this, but his disappointment at being sent away must have shown. The judge shook his head. “I am afraid, my son, that you have faced danger so often that you are bored when you are not risking your life.”