The Open Road

by Paul Kidd

“We are travellers caught on the road.” Sura looked about, and managed to catch Kuno’s eye. “Toriē san – your villagers invited us here. They almost led us right into a spiders’ dinner table.”

  Priestess Toriē seemed most distraught.

  “A thousand apologies, honoured guest. Our guests for the ceremony usually arrive a week before the great day! We should have posted men to guide you past the spiders.” The woman bowed in deep apology. “Please forgive our stupidity.”

  The woman’s guards were tall men with long, plain naginatas. They stood impassively behind the priestess, seeming merely part of the village backdrop. Sura gave them a momentary glance, then turned to look thoughtfully back towards the forest.

  A few of the giant spiders could be seen in the shadows – sitting and watching the village through cold black eyes. Sura scratched thoughtfully at her ear.

  “I have never seen spiders like this.” The fox sniffed. There was definitely a weird, acidic tingle on the air. “They have a scent of sorcery about them.”

  Priestess Toriē waved a hand, utterly dismissing the idea.

  “No no no! Quite natural, I assure you. This has long been their home. But they are entirely seasonal. They die off just a few days from now. This is why we celebrate!” The priestess indicated the village houses, where several peasant women were doggedly working at looms. “The spiders die with the new moon, and we can then collect their web silk. Weaving silk is the basis of our economy. So you see, we can hardly resent the spiders.”

  Tonbo leaned thoughtfully upon his tetsubo.

  “There was a burned village outside of the forest.”

  “Yes. A great misfortune.” The village priestess shook her head. “Bandits came and stole the villager’s stored harvest. They are our fellow weavers, and so we have brought them to live with us. There is plenty of room, and no bandits ever visit the forest for fear of the spiders. They do not know that the spiders die off – and why should we correct their misapprehension?”

  The woman gave an easy smile. She motioned for everyone to come with her into the village. She led the way past the first houses, on towards a large shed that sheltered dozens and dozens of mighty wooden casks.

  “The spiders are at their most restless, so for now it is impossible for you to depart. But in only two days, it will be the moon ceremony! After that, the spiders will be gone. We know it must be an inconvenience to you, travellers, but be of good cheer! Our traditions mean that you will have our best food, wine and comforts until it is safe for you to go. And the brandy casks are being readied for the great celebration night!”

  Sura turned and stared at the barrels in absolute enthrallment. Her tail stood out on end.

  “Brandy?”

  “Do you know of it? It is a concentrated wine! Intensely alcoholic. So much so that it even burns!”

  The fox turned towards the barrels in rapture.

  “Oooh! Concentrated…!”

  Tonbo turned to send a stern glance to Sura.

  “No.”

  The big samurai looked to the village priestess and gave a nod.

  “Priestess, we have found an orphaned child. I am honour bound to care for him. I must find a wet nurse.”

  Priestess Toriē folded her fingers together in thought.

  “Yes… Ah, I know just the girl. She lost her own child, but will still have milk. I shall send her to you at once.” The woman swept out one hand and indicated a broad beautifully constructed building across the street. “Please follow my men to the inn. We shall see you safely installed, and give you a feast by way of apology for the spiders.” She bowed pleasantly once again. “Our regrets for your fright and inconvenience – but please understand that we are so glad to have you.” She looked to Tonbo and Kuno in great satisfaction. “Particularly such skilled and talented samurai…”

  The priestess departed, moving off towards the far end of the village. Her guards bowed politely to the Spirit Hunters, then led the way onwards towards the inn.

  Sura was decidedly no fool. She looked about the village thoughtfully. Kuno, Chiri and Tonbo all turned to survey the streets and houses all around.

  The poorer villagers in their drab clothing were all looking studiously in other directions. They worked – some weaving, some preparing dyes, others sweeping, or plodding off to till the fields. Sura made one small wave of a finger, indicating to her friends that this was not the place to talk.

  Daitanishi peered out from inside Chiri’s robes. He was positively gripped with fear. Chiri stroked him, trying to sooth the little creature. He ducked into hiding as the two guards turned around and beckoned the visitors to follow.

  Sano Moko nodded subtly to Sura. Apparently they were safe enough for now. Outwardly relaxed, the Spirit Hunters followed the guards up to the village inn, keeping a quiet eye upon everything around them.

  The village inn was a great, wide sumptuous building with a number of comfortable sleeping rooms. Colourful silk hangings brightened the walls, and vases held sprigs of forest flowers.

  A midday feast had been served to the village guests. The four Spirit Hunters were joined by six other travellers. Sura saw the monk and the old man who had been playing go, as well as the two scruffy peddlers. They were joined by a merchant with a broad and jolly belly, and a long and skinny female samisen player, who clung upon the merchant’s arm.

  The food was served by drably dressed peasant girls. A great many merry guards and forest folk, all dressed in black, lounged about and enjoyed the feast. Sakē and plum wine flowed into cups at every hand. The quiet maids brought in food fit to tempt a fox spirit’s palate: chicken and duck, roast boar and venison, fish and pheasant. Kuno confined himself to fish, rice and vegetables, while Chiri ate sparingly. For her part, Sura waited until she saw the guards eat from a plate, then joined in and enthusiastically helped herself. She served her friends with her own hands, and carefully checked every drop of drink. Cheerful and talkative, she made certain that her friends drank only from cups that had been intended for the guards.

  Tonbo cradled the baby in the crook of his arm. He had shed his armour at last, eating one handed and keeping the baby warm. The little creature was asleep again – though wriggling and uncomfortable. Somehow it slept on, despite the noise.

  Sura saw guards eating from a plate of crispy duck. She managed to abscond with the plate, and with yet more noodles for Tonbo. She settled herself back down and served out noodles to one and all.

  Daitanishi peeked briefly out from Chiri’s robes. He swiftly hid away again. Sura watched the creature thoughtfully as she ate, then irritably motioned to the baby with her chopsticks.

  “So it’s finally asleep again.”

  Chiri seemed positively proud. “Tonbo san has a natural gift for fatherhood.”

  “Ick.” Sura planted crispy duck atop her noodles, and added a drizzle of sauce. “Well good luck with that.”

  Kuno ate with calm, perfect manners. But his careful eye took in every detail of the room. He made certain that his sword was close at hand, and that he could see out into the street.

  Chiri quietly stroked Daitanishi beneath her robes. The elemental was in a high state of agitation. The rat spirit leaned in to offer Kuno some tea, and murmured softly into his ear.

  “Kuno san – have you seen any danger? Daitanishi chan is quite beside himself!”

  Kuno kept a straight face, betraying nothing as he quietly held up his cup.

  “I am not happy with our situation.”

  Sura was messily eating a pheasant’s wing.

  “Well the food’s good. They weren’t lying about that!” Sura called out to one of the listless maids. “Hey you! Can I get more pot stickers? These things are great!”

  The maid bowed and immediately backed away towards the kitchen. As she did so, she bumped into one of the black guards, almost making the man spill his drink.

  The guard rounded on the maid. She dropped to her knees in fright, bowing. All of the maids froze, quite c
learly terrified.

  The guard confronting the maid saw Sura’s eye upon him. He bowed in careful apology to the maid. The maid bowed again and again, retreating back out to the kitchens and vanishing from sight.

  The guard found himself a bottle and more food. He sat himself down with his comrades, and they began drinking freely. Another maid brought the men a crowded tray of sakē bottles and then moved swiftly away.

  A young peasant woman came quietly into the inn. She wore a plain brown robe, and had her long hair neatly bound back by three twists of dyed silk. The woman had a sweetly beautiful face, though she was sadly drawn and ashen. She came timidly into the common room, eyes darting. Head down, she came over to the Spirit Hunters and knelt on the floor, placing her forehead to the tatami mats.

  She voice was hoarse and quiet.

  “Honoured travellers – I am Shinohata Kimiko. I have been sent to you to fulfil your needs as a wet nurse.”

  Tonbo nodded. He drew in a great, deep breath of relief.

  “Shinohata san. It is good to meet you.” The samurai carefully turned the baby, so that the young woman could see its face. “I have acquired this orphaned boy. We have sworn to his mother’s spirit that we shall see he is cared for in love and honour. He has not been fed for a great deal of time.”

  Tonbo gave a sincere, respectful bow.

  “Shinohata san - please would you consent to feeding him?”

  The young woman stared at the baby. She froze, almost bursting into tears. Finally the woman swallowed. She woodenly reached out for the child.

  “Yes. I…” The young woman blinked. “Yes, samurai. I will feed the child.”

  Tonbo carefully transferred the sleeping baby over into her hands. He quietly stroked the baby’s little face.

  “He is a very good boy, Kimiko san.”

  “I shall take him outside and feed him, samurai. He – he will be well.”

  The baby stirred. Kimiko arose carefully, gazing at the baby’s face. She smoothed his hair, and quietly carried the baby off and away towards the inn’s broad porch.

  The woman’s face was wooden. Sura watched Kimiko go, and quietly stroked her chin.

  “She seems upset.”

  Chiri watched Kimiko carefully carrying off the baby, and felt a surge of pity.

  “She is young, and has milk. Perhaps her own child died, Sura san. Our baby might be bringing Kimiko san painful memories.”

  “Yeah…” Sura carefully moved, keeping Kimiko in view as the woman moved out onto the porch. “Well I want to keep her in sight. I don’t want anyone messing with our baby.”

  The other Spirit Hunters all looked at Sura in interest. She wrinkled her nose and pretended to be unconcerned.

  “I didn’t say I liked the little squab!” The fox grumbled, folding up her arms. “But it’s ours, and I don’t want anyone messing up our stuff!”

  The others were still watching her. Sura hunkered down and ate, blushing and fluffing out her tail.

  “Hmmph. Well – I’m just saying…”

  Sano Moko entered the inn – still armoured, and still carrying her naginata. The woman came stalking through the room and sat herself down beside the Spirit Hunters, setting her heavy weapons aside. Kuno passed dishes of food quietly towards her, nodding to her in welcome.

  Kuno conferred with her quietly, keeping a careful eye upon the room.

  “Sano san. Have you been here long?”

  Moko supped at soup, her gaze searching quietly across the room. “I arrived yesterday evening.”

  “Did you come here for the festival, Sano san?”

  Sano Moko made certain that she could not be overheard.

  “I came here on a mission. I must warn you – all is not right here.”

  Sura kept her eyes on the guards. She nodded, smiling as if enjoying the scene, but spoke quietly to Sano Moko.

  “The black clad villagers. The other ones fear them.”

  “That is not all.”

  Sano Moko drank, waiting for several black-clad folk to pass by. Once they were gone, she served herself a bowl of noodles and duck. She kept her eyes on the crowd and quietly continued her tale.

  “Yesterday evening, while trying to escape the storm, I found a man intent upon burning this forest down. He was in great pain. Right before my eyes, he burst open. Hundreds of huge baby spiders had been living inside him, and they all burst free!”

  Sura suddenly looked quite ill. She shivered, her whole skin crawling.

  “Oh – I am just so happy…”

  Sano Moko nodded.

  “I entered the forest to investigate, but the giant spiders attacked. The creatures chased me here.”

  Sura looked at the woman, ears flat in annoyance.

  “Let me get this straight. A man wants to burn this forest. He explodes into a pile of spiders right in front of you… And you decide to go investigate the dark, spooky forest all by yourself?” The fox rubbed at her eyes. “Please tell me you passed a message on telling someone else about the spider-explosion thing?” She saw Sano Moko looking a tad embarrassed. “No? Oh brother…”

  Moko looked defensive.

  “A true samurai is capable of handling any situation.”

  “And a true loon never knows when to ask for help!”

  Kuno drew in a thoughtful breath. He looked left and right, taking in the black-clad guards and villagers.

  He quietly sipped his tea.

  “Something may be hidden here. Are these people serving the spiders?”

  Sura nodded in agreement. The fox enthusiastically rubbed her hands together.

  “Yes! The black clad guys control the spiders and use them as an army!”

  Kuno looked at the fox. “They send the spiders out…”

  “Yes!”

  “Capture people…”

  Sura nodded eagerly, following the reasoning. “Right!’

  Kuno nodded. “And then brutally force their victims into a five star restaurant and feed them.”

  Sura wilted, biting at her lip.

  “Ah… Alright! So not every hypothesis is perfect at first pass!”

  All theories came to a screeching halt. Sura sat, puzzling ideas over in her mind. She almost decided to speak – but her other new hypothesis crashed unborn. She poured herself a tea, scowled and gave a great, frustrated sigh.

  Kimiko had vanished out of view along the porch. Tonbo arose, reaching for the tetsubo that never, ever moved from his side. He settled his sword, keeping his eyes upon the road outside.

  “I shall just go check on the baby. I want to make certain all is well.”

  Sura looked up at the man. He seemed almost naked standing in just his hakama and robes.

  “No armour?”

  Tonbo thought for a moment. He handed Sura his weapons – heavy sword, long kodachi dagger and the tetsubo, which almost staggered Sura into the ground. He slipped on his breastplate with its attendant shoulder guards and tassets clattering into place. He tied the side of the armour shut with practiced speed.

  Sura indicated the pile of ironmongery still sitting folded behind him.

  “No sleeves? Thigh guards? Helmet?”

  “I am going to see the baby. Such things might be excessive.” The huge man took hold of his long spiked iron staff.

  “I will be back.”

  The big man stalked out of the room. Chiri gave a frown and leaned over to whisper into Sura’s ear.

  “Should one of us go with him?”

  “Nah… Looks pretty safe for now. Let’s let him go. I have an eye on the streets.” The fox gave a sigh. “He needs to work through this whole baby thing.”

  Tonbo moved outside onto the inn’s broad porch. The sounds of loud merriment from the black-clad guards was the only real sound upon the air. On the streets, there were only more of the tall, black clad villagers in view – most of them idle, or simply strolling along. Tonbo spared them a brief glance, then looked along the porch.

  The entire place was ne
wly built: the beams smelled pleasantly of fresh-sawn wood. In one direction, yet more black-armoured guards were sitting and eating: in the other, there were a few sprigs of potted flowers.

  The young woman sat amongst the flowers, quietly feeding the baby. She gazed down at the infant’s face, gently caressing his fine hair. Tonbo watched her, greatly soothed by the woman’s tenderness.

  He approached and sat down, armour clanking. The woman realised his presence, and gave a sudden guilty jump of fright. She sheltered the baby in her arms.

  Tonbo gently set his tetsubo aside.

  “I did not mean to startle you.”

  The woman swallowed. She nodded to Tonbo, slowly recovering.

  “Forgive me, samurai. I was far away.”

  Tonbo nodded then sat quietly beside her, looking out across the street. A little tree grew nearby – a plum with gorgeous leaves of purple-brown. It glimmered softly in the afternoon sun – a thing of quiet, hidden beauty. Tonbo watched the tree, leaning back against the inn’s new wooden wall.

  He spoke to the woman as she gently fed the baby.

  “You have a surname. Surely you are from a samurai family?”

  “In a sense, samurai. I am a humble weaver by birth.” Kimiko bowed her head. “My father was once head man of our village. Not this village, but the village outside of the forest.”

  “Ah. The people in black are the owners of this village.”

  “Yes, samurai san. The rest of us are… grateful guests.”

  Tonbo turned. He thoughtfully regarded Kimiko, measuring her straight shoulders and sad, bright eyes.

  “You may call me Tonbo.” He nodded quietly. “When did your father die, Kimiko san?”

  “Oh, many years ago, samu… Tonbo san. We were lost without him. But a handsome young ronin had come to stay with us, and the villagers asked him to become head man after my father died. He served us well.”

  “The ronin died?”

  “He… he disappeared. Almost one year ago, Tonbo san.” Kimiko’s face drained of its colour.

  “He was my husband.”

  Kimiko hung her head, staring at the ground.

  “I bore his child, but my spirit was too weak to sustain her. Our daughter sickened and died…” Kimiko’s voice was drained of all life.