“Yes. Unpleasant, at best.” He held up a folded piece of paper. “Zeshi Aimi has asked me to meet her at the Shrine of the Small Lord. I’m afraid that means no practice this morning.” He attempted a frown, but failed. “So disappointing.”
Kasami glared at him, but said only, “When do we leave?”
•••
Sometime later, Shin stood on a wooden walkway, overlooking the steaming fumarole that was supposedly the source of the mountain’s hot springs. Looking at the geyser of gas and steam, with the smell of sulfur thick on the air, he could believe it.
The wind turned, and the bells in the trees gave an eerie jangle. He waved his fan, trying to disperse the smell. He would have to change his clothes when he got home. And possibly have a bath. He looked around.
The shrine was a humble thing; a few outbuildings, no real decoration save for the fumarole stone, carved to resemble a miniature palace. Offerings of food had been placed at the foot of the stone by pilgrims. If there was a kami residing here, it was a well-fed one.
The caretakers of the shrine had made themselves scarce. He’d caught sight of them once or twice, but by and large they seemed content to avoid him. Ordinarily, he might have been somewhat insulted, but for the moment, he preferred privacy.
A whistle from nearby caused him to turn. Kasami stood at the far end of the walkway, watching for the arrival of Lady Aimi. She gestured, and Shin raised his fan in acknowledgment. He had been half-afraid that she had changed her mind.
Kasami retreated as the first of Lady Aimi’s bodyguards came into view. There were four of them; samurai of the Zeshi household, bearing the colors of the family on their robes. All were armed, but their weapons were peace-bound. Kasami kept her hands well away from her own swords as she stepped respectfully behind Shin.
At the center of the quartet of samurai was Lady Aimi. She was a slight, slim figure, clad in purple, bearing a sunshade against the heat of the day. She folded it and handed it to one of the pair of servants who trailed after the samurai, heads bowed. She gestured, and her guards scattered, moving to take up sentry positions on the walkway. Shin waved Kasami back as he went to meet Aimi.
“Lord Shin,” she greeted, her hands moving in time to her words. “I am pleased to meet you at last.” Shin detected only the faintest hesitation to her speech, though her voice was largely lacking in nuance. That, and the fact her gaze was fixed on his mouth, were the only real signs that she was deaf.
She was more confident with her hands – her fingers provided the inflection her voice lacked. The Unicorn had developed their own form of sign language during their wanderings, separate from the more standard system devised by the Crane, which most of Rokugan used. Mostly they used it for their horses, or so Batu had claimed. He’d taken it upon himself to learn both in his youth, as well as the particular cant used by some Scorpion courtiers.
“And I you, my lady. Lady Konomi speaks highly of you,” he said, bowing respectfully. As he did so, he let his hands fall into the awkward rhythms of the Unicorn cant. The Crane cant was a thing of graceful gestures and circular, sweeping motions. In contrast, the Unicorn version was full of abrupt gesticulations and pointed flicks of the fingertips – rather like the motions of a restive horse. Quite tiring on the fingers. “She considers you favored cousins, and often shares amusing anecdotes of her time spent here.”
I wish she were here now, Aimi signed, and then flushed when she realized how such a statement might be construed. Shin laughed gaily.
“Not for nothing, so do I. She is a rare wit, and an adventuresome companion.”
Aimi smiled brittlely. Her gestures took on a teasing flutter. I have heard that you are often seen together.
“Our friendship is something I treasure most highly,” Shin said, signaling pointedly. “A good friend is a rare thing, and one must cultivate friendship the way one would a fragile blossom. That is why I am here now.”
I am glad that you are, though the circumstances are unfortunate. She paused, her hands stilling. Then, You sign well. Hardly a trace of an accent.
Shin inclined his head. “I take that as a compliment.”
“I can read lips, if you prefer,” she said, out loud.
“That is appreciated, but unnecessary. I so rarely get the chance to practice.” He waggled his fingers flirtatiously and she laughed. But only for a moment.
I wish we had time to speak at length, but I fear this conversation will be quick, she signed. My cousin doubtless knows that I am here.
“He did not wish us to speak, though his reasoning was somewhat… sparse.”
Her fingers twitched. He fears that you will upset the negotiations. More than they already are, I mean.
Shin smiled at that. “Your cousin carries much weight on his shoulders. But I do not think that is what you wanted to talk to me about, is it?”
“Ruri,” she said simply. The gesture she made was plaintive – and awkward. As if she had been about to use another sign; one with a more personal meaning.
“Yes.” Shin looked at her. She was young, older than her brother but not by much. But old enough to be married, and old enough to know what she wanted. Or didn’t want, as the case might be. “Tell me what happened.”
She gestured loosely. By now, you must know the full story.
“I know the story, but not your version of it. Tell me, please.”
She looked out over the fumarole. After a moment, she turned back and signed, We were walking in the market. We often did that. I liked to look in the storefronts and watch the merchants.
“I understand. I enjoy it as well.”
She smiled at that. It didn’t last. Gen… appeared, she signed. With his lickspittles in tow. Drunk, of course. He was often drunk. Celebrating, or commiserating. Her hands hesitated. He was drunk the day our engagement was announced. Did you know that? Her fingers flicked dismissively.
Shin remained silent. She continued to sign. He accused me of bringing shame to him, to our families, due to my dalliance with a clanless samurai. His sword was in his hand and he was the color of blood, and I… I was afraid. Her hands twitched uncertainly, as if it was the first time she’d actually thought about it. Maybe it was. She continued. I’d always considered him a… a lout. A fool. But for the first time, I was frightened of him. She made a fist and touched it to her stomach – the Crane sign for fear, rather than the Unicorn one.
“And then Ruri stepped between you.”
She nodded. Yes, she signed. She demanded that he leave us. He spewed obscenities I will not repeat and attacked her. She was so quick; I never imagined anyone could move so quickly. Her sword was out and sliding home again between one breath and the next. And Gen was dead.
“He attacked her first. You are certain?”
A sure gesture. On my honor, I am certain.
“You told her to run. Why?”
Have you not yet figured it out? Aimi signed, her gesture challenging. My cousin assured me that you were clever, Lord Shin.
Shin smiled politely. “I never ask questions I do not already have an answer for. But I like to hear those answers spoken aloud. So tell me, if you would – why?”
Aimi swallowed and hesitated before signing, I did not wish her to die.
“No?”
A shake of the head. No.
“That is a relief.”
Aimi’s eyes widened. “It is?” she said, out loud.
“Quite so. I do not wish her to die either. Unfortunately, you and I seem to be the only two who share that hope. So we must work together in order to ensure victory.” He leaned forward. “Why did you tell her to run?”
Aimi was silent for long moments. Then, in a small voice, “I love her.” Her hands thumped her chest. He saw that they were trembling.
Shin nodded. “Yes. Is that why Gen confronted you both that day?”
After waiting a moment for her to compose herself, he asked, “Poetry?” Ruri did not seem the sort for poetry. Then it was often said that still waters ran deep. A sudden thought occurred to him. “How much of it? And are you certain that you destroyed it all?”
Of course! Her hands fluttered – another hesitation, betraying uncertainty.
“How did you go about burning it?”
Aimi frowned. I gave the papers to the servants, as we always do, she signed. She paled, and her hands dropped.
“Yes,” Shin said. “It is possible someone in your family intercepted the papers, realized what they were, and decided to tell Gen.”
Her fingers cut the air. But why would anyone do that?
“I don’t know.” Shin let his gaze stray as he built the scene in his mind. “No one opposed your marriage to Gen. Not even you.”
It was too important. Aimi’s hands tightened into fists, before flurrying into motion. It is still too important.
Shin felt sympathy for her. He too knew the weight of familial obligation, and how it never lessened – only increased. “If Ruri were to be released, what would you do?” he asked, softly. Aimi’s eyes narrowed. “Would you declare your love for your social inferior? Would you flee Hisatu-Kesu in order to be with her?”
Aimi shook her head and signed, I do not know, my lord. I have not dared hope for her release.
“That is almost certainly a lie, but an expected one.” Shin smiled, so as to lessen the sting of his words. “Hope is no sin, and love is not foolishness. Together, the two are as potent a weapon as any katana.”
I would not flee, Aimi signed. She lifted her chin, her expression one of resolve – and her signing even more so. “This is my home and I will not abandon it, or my family. Not for anything or anyone. Nor would Ruri expect me to.”
“No, I do not think she would.” Shin sighed and smoothed his kimono. “Still, it is a concern for the future. For now we must occupy ourselves by learning the identity of the person who revealed your… affections to Gen.”
She made an open palm gesture. How will you do that?
“With care and diligence,” Shin said. “Rest easy, Lady Aimi. I feel we are on truth’s trail at last.” He tapped his lips with his fan. “You mentioned lickspittles. Was one of them Totara Ikki, by chance?”
Yes, she signed. And his cousins, Aito and Giichi. They were always trailing after Gen. As she gestured, there was a clatter of noise from the direction of the steps. They turned and saw a band of ashigaru, in Zeshi colors, approaching the walkway. Several more samurai were with them, and one called out, gesturing broadly as he spoke.
“Lady Aimi. You are to come with us.”
“On whose authority?” she demanded out loud, as her own guards closed ranks. At Shin’s nod, Kasami joined them, her hand falling to the hilt of her sword. The newcomers paused, and for a moment it looked as if weapons might be drawn.
“Your cousin, Lord Shijan. He asks that you return home.” The spokesman’s eyes flicked to Shin. “I apologize for the inconvenience, my lord. But we have our orders.”
Shin looked down his nose at the man. “Of course. We all have our orders, and we must obey them. Such is the will of heaven.” He turned and bowed low to Aimi. He was not concerned for her safety. Shijan had no reason to harm her, and every reason to keep her safe. If another political marriage was suggested, either Aimi or Reiji would be the logical choice. As such, Shijan could not afford to let either come to harm.
“My lady, it was a great pleasure to finally meet you. Rest assured I shall take all that you have told me into consideration.” He gestured sharply, and Kasami fell in behind him as he started towards the steps. The Zeshi ashigaru parted before him, standing respectfully to either side.
He did not look back, but he felt their eyes on him the entire way.
Chapter Eighteen
Complications
Batu was in his study when Shin returned. A servant showed Shin into the room, and he knelt on the cushions before Batu, waiting for the other man to acknowledge him. When Batu didn’t, Shin cleared his throat. He was forced to do so three more times before Batu finally deigned to look at him.
“And how has your day been?” Shin asked, gaily.
“Troublesome.” Batu looked out the window. “While you were annoying people, I was called to arbitrate a dispute between the Zeshi and the Shiko. Another dispute, I should say. An argument between soldiers that spilled over into violence.”
Shin’s eyes widened. “What happened?”
“A tea house on Six Sparrow Street was wrecked, and several people injured. No one important, thankfully, but now both Shijan and Koji are barking at me to do something about it. I’ve fined the men in question, but it won’t be the last such incident, I fear.”
“As the families go, so too does the city,” Shin said, idly.
“The families gird themselves for war,” Batu said, nodding. “Neither side wants it, but neither do they wish to be caught out if the other side decides to launch an attack.”
“Do you think either are planning such a thing?”
“If it were down to the individuals here? No. But it is not solely up to them. The daimyos of the two families obviously see this as merely another front in their ongoing rivalry, or so I’m told. And it won’t be long before individuals within the Iuchi and the Ide decide to exacerbate matters for their own gain.”
Shin didn’t question this statement. Such things were regrettably common when it came to internecine conflict. Even in times of peace, the clans were a constant stew of status-seeking and glory-hunting. At times of war, every courtier and bushi looking to improve their position came out of the woodwork and tried to insert themselves into matters. That was one of the reasons Shin had attempted to remove himself from the body politic of the Crane. “Then we had best come up with a solution before it reaches that point.”
“We have a solution.”
“A better solution, then.”
Batu shook his head. “Shijan is upset. You spoke to his cousin against his express wishes. He has made a formal protest.”
“He would not be the first.” Shin studied a point on the wall past Batu’s left ear. “I think Shijan is both easily upset and quick to complain when it benefits him. He is a tedious fellow, I will say that for him. And he is hiding something.”
“You know this for a fact?” Batu asked, intently.
“I suspect.” Shin fussed with the line of his kimono. “Aimi has confirmed what the matchmaker suspected. She and Ruri were – are – lovers.”
Batu sighed heavily. “That is… unfortunate.”
“Gen knew.”
“That is even more unfortunate.” Batu paused. “Who told him?”
“She doesn’t know. I suspect we won’t find the answer to that until we speak to Gen’s cronies, if Kitano can manage to locate them.” He tapped his knee with his fan, wondering when his servant would return. It was taking him longer than Shin had anticipated. How hard could it be to find three drunken bushi in a city as small as this? “The Totaras are the key, I think. We know what happened, but they might know why.”
“So, in conclusion, you have learned nothing of use to us,” Batu said.
“On the contrary, I have learned much.”
“By insulting members of both families.”
“By asking the sorts of questions you should have asked,” Shin retorted. “I have clay. I must now build bricks.” He snapped open his fan and fluttered it.
“And what does that mean?”
“I have asked the obvious questions, now I must ask the less obvious ones. For instance, what purpose does Gen’s death
serve?”
“To ruin the negotiations, obviously. As you theorized earlier.”
“Yes, but why? What would anyone stand to gain from tensions between the Zeshi and the Shiko?”
“War would interfere with their ability to fulfil their contracts,” Batu said, after a moment. “Not at first, but in the long run, their business interests would suffer. Not just here, but everywhere.”
“Yes. And who gains by such a breakdown in the order of things?” Shin shook his head. “That is why I will expand my investigation. I will ask those who know best about such matters. Speaking of which – have you spoken to the merchants yet?”
“I have.”
“And?”
“They have reluctantly agreed to speak to you.”
“How gracious of them.”
Batu snorted. “The local trade association is headed up by a heimin merchant named Yuzu. He’s agreed to speak with you on behalf of the rest.”
“He serves the Unicorn?”
Batu’s smile was hard. “The Ide.”
“Ah. Then it may be that he has ulterior motives for speaking with me.”
Batu shrugged. “Why you even wish to speak to such a disreputable creature, I do not know. I cannot see what good might come of it.”
“Merchants – and more importantly, heimin – talk. They gossip about everything, especially their betters. You could do worse than to listen occasionally.”
“I am not an imbecile, Shin. I know the value of informers.”
Shin twitched a finger chidingly. “Informers tell you what you wish to know. Listening to gossip will tell you what you need to know, before you wish to know it.”
“The wisdom of a courtier.”
Shin shrugged elegantly. “Wisdom is wisdom, regardless of its origin.”
“Then hear this, O wise one – you are out of time. This arrived while you were out making enemies.” Batu held up a folded missive, its seal broken. “From the daimyo of the Shiko family. The Ide representative will be here earlier than we expected. Today, in fact.” He tossed the letter onto his writing desk. “They will be here this afternoon, after they have paid a call to the Zeshi.”
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