The whole of the slum stank of it, as well as sake, unwashed bodies, boiling fat and other, less identifiable odors. The buildings here were too close together, the streets piled atop one another as they wound through the rocky terrain. Sluice canals brought hot water from higher up the mountain, dispersing it to the various unlicensed bathhouses that littered this part of the city, before carrying the rest down to the tanneries in the foothills.
The building she had indicated was nondescript, crouching among equally unimpressive fellows. The only point of difference was the tattered sigil – a jade hare – hanging from the doorway, and the disheveled-looking heimin on guard.
“You did not have to come, you know. We are capable of bringing in a suspect on our own.” Batu’s voice was mild, but Kasami could hear the reproach in his words. She bowed her head, acknowledging his point. He stood behind her, along with Nozomi and two other yoriki. The rest of Batu’s contingent – four samurai, all yoriki like Nozomi – and a half dozen heimin soldiers were on the other side of the street, waiting to go in the rear entrance of the Jade Hare.
“Forgive me, but Lord Shin wishes to ensure that nothing goes wrong while he is otherwise occupied.” The thought of leaving Shin unsupervised was not one she cared to dwell on. But hers was to obey, even when there was no need for it. Thankfully, she had managed to elicit a promise from him not to go anywhere until she’d returned. He’d sworn to do nothing more strenuous than think on what Lady Nishi had told him.
“And you will see to it, will you?”
Kasami nodded. “I will.”
Batu paused. “You do not lack confidence.”
“No,” Kasami said, simply. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nozomi attempting to hide a smile. “I doubt I shall be needed, my lord. But my mother often said that an extra pair of hands rarely goes amiss.”
“A wise woman.” Batu turned as a heimin, dressed in plain clothes, stepped into the alley, interrupting them. “Well?” Batu asked. The heimin bowed low.
“As you expected, my lord – it’s a full house, despite the fact it’s only the afternoon.” The heimin straightened, smiling. “They have no idea we’re here.”
“Speed is its own reward,” Batu murmured. He looked at Nozomi. “I want to do this in the usual fashion. We’ll cover both entrances. If any try to escape, let them past, otherwise we’ll have a bloodbath on our hands. I want no more deaths attached to this matter.”
“Do you think he’s here?” Nozomi asked, eagerly. “Honesty-sama?”
“I thought we were looking for Zeshi Reiji,” Kasami said. Batu glanced at her.
“We are. But the Jade Hare is one of Honesty-sama’s establishments. If I were Reiji, looking to sell stolen papers, I would come here. We might be able to catch him in the act. If so, that will be an end to it.”
“And if he escapes?”
“As I recall, that is why you are here. To make certain that he does not.” Batu gestured. “Nozomi – after you.”
Nozomi nodded and smiled. She sauntered across the street, accompanied by the two yoriki. Batu watched her go, and then said, “You will accompany me. Between us, we should be able to spot Reiji.”
“As you say, my lord.” Kasami wanted to ask how long they would wait, but chose to save her breath. Batu would not enter until the exits had been blocked. Such was the privilege of a magistrate.
“You spoke of wisdom before,” he said, studying the street. “Wisdom is something your master sorely lacks, I think.”
“My lord?”
“This. All of this. A wise man would have let it be.” He looked at her. “He has never been wise. Shin, I mean. Not once, in all the days I have known him. Even as a youth, wisdom was his enemy.” His eyes slid away and she shifted her weight, disconcerted by his words. “They tried to beat it into him, you know.”
Kasami said nothing. Shin rarely spoke of his youth, save to make some witticism. “They were stern, those Daidoji. Like iron made flesh. And then there was Shin, fluttering about, taking nothing seriously.” Batu smiled absently. “He was the first to speak to me, you know. The first to ask my name. The first to care.”
“He cares too much,” she said, without thinking. Batu looked at her sharply. Rather than admonishing her, he nodded.
“Yes, that has always been his problem. I tried to teach him otherwise, but some lessons do not take. I think you have tried to teach him as well – I wish you more luck than I had.” He straightened the fold of his kimono. “He speaks highly of you, you know. I do not think he could function without you.”
Kasami, who thought much the same herself, merely nodded. She wondered why Batu was saying these things to her. Maybe it was simply idle speech – Shin did that often. Many samurai spoke only to hear themselves speak; there was no greater meaning to it. But she did not think so. Batu did not seem the sort.
Across the street, Nozomi and her companions had sent the two heimin on guard fleeing. The other group of yoriki had already vanished – likely moving to enter through the rear, as was the plan. “They move quickly,” she murmured.
“We have done this a hundred times, if not more.” Batu sounded tired rather than pleased. “The longer I am here, the more I understand my predecessors’ attitude towards this sort of thing. Our lot is to keep things on an even keel – not to change them.”
People were gathering on the corners, obviously expecting trouble and wanting to enjoy it from a safe distance. Kasami wondered how often this scene had been repeated in this part of the city – a dozen times, maybe, or two dozen – that it had become entertainment. She thought about what Nozomi had said, about the Unicorn tolerating the criminal activity. It did not seem right, and yet it happened. Not just here, but everywhere.
She pushed the thought aside. She’d never used to worry about such things, but of late it was getting harder to ignore the cracks in the surface of what was. She blamed Shin – the way he talked about such things was not worthy of a bushi. Too many thoughts in the head was like too much sake in the belly – it made you sick and stupid.
“Come. Time to make my entrance.” Batu started across the street. Kasami followed. He moved with a peculiar rolling gait – not like that of a sailor, but more akin to a horseman who was without a horse. He carried only a wakizashi, leaving the sword work to Nozomi and his men. It showed either supreme confidence or arrogance. Kasami wasn’t sure which.
The crowds on the corners had increased. Heimin and hinin alike, watching and perhaps wagering on the outcome. Entertainment. Her eyes narrowed as they lit on a familiar figure – a woman. Small, tattered robes. A bamboo cane in one hand.
The blind woman – the musician.
Kasami paused, wondering at her presence. Why was she here? Batu noticed and glanced at her. “Is something amiss?”
“That woman, the one with the shamisen on her back…” She did not know why she was drawing attention to the other woman. Something Shin had said, perhaps. The woman did not seem a threat, and yet, every instinct Kasami possessed was telling her that there was something wrong.
“What about her?”
Before Kasami could answer, a sudden clamor rose from within the Jade Hare. Shouts echoed from inside, and then, as if a dam had burst, a rush of bodies hit the doors and spilled out into the street. Dozens of people – gamblers, geishas, and drunks – scrambled into the open. Her hand fell to her sword as they swept towards her and Batu. Quickly, she interposed herself, but the wave shivered apart, scattering in all directions.
One of them – a young man, a bushi by his clothing – skidded to a halt at the sight of Batu. He gaped at them, but only for a moment, and sprinted away. Batu snapped around. “There – it’s Reiji!”
Kasami was already in motion as the words left his lips. Reiji had a head start, but he wasn’t moving as quickly as he might have – inebriated, she thought, though he was sobering up quickly
. Adrenaline and terror had a way of doing that.
Reiji dodged around a peddler’s cart and sprinted down a side street. Kasami, unfamiliar with the city, considered slowing down, but only for a moment. Instead, she leapt over the cart, causing the peddler to fall onto his rear in shock. She was moving again the moment her feet touched the ground.
As she rounded the corner, she caught the flash of steel and saw Reiji falling backwards, hands raised. Two men stood over him, both dressed like street-roughs. One held a peasant’s machete raised over his head as he made to strike at Reiji. Her hand fastened around the hilt of her katana. “Stop,” she called.
They did. Three pairs of eyes fixed on her. “This is none of your concern,” the one with the sword said, lowering the blade. Even he didn’t sound as if he believed what he was saying. The second sidled to the side, a blade in his hand. Kasami ignored him. Instead, she focused on the one who’d spoken.
“He is mine. Leave him be.”
Reiji looked back and forth between them. He began to babble. “This… This is all a mistake. Tell… Tell Honesty-sama I have the money.”
“Shut up,” Kasami and the one with the machete said in unison. The latter glanced at his companion, then back at her. “Walk away, samurai. There might be money in it for you.”
Kasami frowned. As if that were a signal, the second one came at her in low rush – a brawler. She drew and struck in one motion, opening him from groin to grin. He whirled, spraying red across the sides of the alley. She turned and caught the blade of the other on her own. He had a bit more skill than his companion, enough to recognize that he was outmatched. He retreated, eyes narrowed. “I told you – this is none of your concern.” He sounded desperate, pleading.
“I made it mine.” She waited, sword held low, her grip loose. “Why were you trying to kill him?”
“That’s our… my business.”
She inclined her head. “Run, if you like. I will not chase you.” She cut her eyes at Reiji. “I have what I want.”
He licked his lips. She read his decision in his eyes, even as he made his play. His form was not entirely absent. With training, he might have made a decent swordsman, for a peasant. Her first sweep removed his sword hand. Her second opened his throat to the bone. Blood spurted, dappling her armor as he collapsed, as if in slow motion. She looked down at the body, struck by his foolishness. Someone must have been paying him well. She twitched the blood from her blade as she turned.
“Why did you run?”
Reiji scrambled to his feet. He ignored her question. “I do not have to answer to you. I… I am a bushi, not a heimin.” He turned as if to go – to run, she thought.
“As am I,” she said. “Why did you not fight? You are armed.” She used her sword to indicate his weapons, still snug in their sheaths. “They were gutter-scum. Are you a coward?” The insult was intentional, and it worked. He spun, hand falling to the hilt of his katana. If he drew it, she would have to kill him.
She slapped his hand with the flat of her blade. He gave a yelp and jerked his hand up and away. She sheathed her sword and got into his face. She caught his wrist and, with a single, smooth motion, flattened him face-first against the wall. Despite his struggles, she pinned his arm behind his back.
Reiji yelped again, and she popped him on the nose with two fingers. “Hush,” she said. “Only children bawl. Are you a child?”
“R- Release me, and you will see how much of a man I am!”
She swatted him again. “Only fools threaten. Are you a fool as well?” She paused. “Then, it is said the Fortunes are protective of fools and children. That may explain your continued survival.”
“Release me!”
She tightened her grip, and he squealed. “Enough bluster. Calm yourself, or I will break your arm. Would you like that?”
Reiji fell silent. She held him for a moment longer and then released him. The youth turned, rubbing his arm. “No,” he said, grudgingly. “I suppose I am most thankful for your timely assistance.”
“Good.” She paused as a sound reached her ears. A soft, insistent tapping. As of a bamboo cane, feeling its way along the ground. Then the sound faded, and she turned her attention back to her prisoner. “Now come with me. There is someone who wishes to speak to you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Yuzu
Washed and rinsed, Shin stooped to enter the steam bath through the narrow aperture. The room was one of several private areas, available to those willing to pay for the privilege of bathing alone. Due to the lack of windows and the thick clouds of steam, it was all but impossible to see more than a few inches in front of his face.
He coughed politely, to let any other occupants know that he had arrived. When no response came, he realized he was alone. He sighed and sat down, adjusting the towel he wore for modesty’s sake accordingly. The heat felt good on his skin, and he closed his eyes to order his thoughts before Yuzu arrived.
As he sat, he listened to the murmur of voices and soft music that drifted through the partition. The Ibusuko Bathhouse on Falling Moon Lane was one of the more popular onsen in the city. Yuzu apparently conducted much of his business in its confines. The warmth and the quiet put people at ease. Shin himself was feeling distinctly relaxed – though he knew he would pay for it later.
He’d sent Kasami with Batu. If push came to shove, he was confident she would not let him down. He’d seen no reason to go himself. Either Reiji would be there, or he would not. Either he would be caught, or he would not. Regardless, she would be angry when she returned and found him gone. He’d promised not to go anywhere without her, but was it his fault that they’d taken too long to return?
He was certain she’d understand. And if not, Kitano would bear the brunt of her wrath. Shin had left him behind to explain things, just in case they got back before he did. He smiled at the thought. It left his face almost as quickly as it had appeared.
He settled back to consider the problem from all angles. He knew that the full picture had not yet revealed itself, though there was, perhaps, enough of one to provide extenuating circumstances, and thus see Ruri spared. Lady Nishi’s word alone might settle it. But even with that taken care of, the underlying problem remained. He turned the facts over in his mind and shifted them about like puzzle pieces.
Ruri and Aimi were in love, but neither had wished to endanger the negotiations, so they had resolved to end things. But someone had discovered their entanglement and used it to drive Gen, a notoriously unstable individual, into a murderous frenzy. No matter how that had turned out, the wedding would be off and the burgeoning alliance ended.
Someone was stirring the pot. Keeping tensions high. There were many possible reasons for that, but the most obvious one was that someone, somewhere, wished for war between the Zeshi and the Shiko. But why? Money – perhaps. Money was always involved in these matters, if only tangentially. But no one in either family stood to gain if war broke out.
“I’m missing something,” he said, out loud.
“Perhaps I can be of help, then, my lord.” The voice came suddenly, and Shin sat up so abruptly he almost slipped off his bench. A slight chuckle followed. “Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you.”
Shin peered through the steam and saw a heavyset figure sit down opposite him. “It is I who should apologize, Master Yuzu,” he said. “My mind was elsewhere.”
“I expect it was.” Another chuckle. Shin waved aside a curl of steam and studied the man before him. Yuzu was a thickset man with a heavy beard and wide, dark eyes. His towel was too small to accomplish its task easily, and required constant adjustment. “Still, no apologies necessary, my lord.”
“I must thank you for agreeing to meet with me – as well giving me an excuse to partake in one of this city’s fine onsen.”
“Think nothing of it,” Yuzu said. “You wished to speak with me about something?
Perhaps the Daidoji think to establish themselves in Hisatu-Kesu. If so, I would gladly give you any help you might require.”
Shin leaned forward. “Nothing of that nature, sadly. Rather, I would like to ask you a few questions, if I might.”
“Questions, my lord?” Yuzu seemed taken aback. Almost comically so, Shin thought. He was not so surprised as he wished to appear. “Regarding what?”
“Business. Specifically, yours. Or, rather, the business of the merchants’ association.”
Yuzu’s eyes narrowed. The obsequiousness vanished, replaced by wariness. “What do you wish to know, my lord?”
“Lord Batu has explained to me the reasons for founding the merchants’ association – in order to protect trade and control pricing. The Daidoji Trade Council was formed for much the same reason. What I would like to know is how you would characterize your association’s relationship with the Zeshi and the Shiko. Given their importance in the city’s affairs, I can only imagine it is…?” Shin gestured encouragingly.
Yuzu frowned. “Why do you wish to know this?”
Shin scratched his chin. “Idle curiosity.”
Yuzu studied him for a moment. “I will need a better answer than that, my lord.” He sounded apologetic as he said it – but firm.
Shin nodded. “As I expected. Very well. Do you know why I am here?”
“Forgive me, but… most of the city knows, my lord.”
Shin smiled. “Yes, well. I believe there might be more to Lord Gen’s death than is commonly assumed.”
“I do not see what that has to do with us…” Yuzu paused. “Unless… the negotiations?” He scowled. “There has been some talk in that regard.”
Shin raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Please – illuminate me.”
Yuzu settled back and scratched his nose. “These talks between the Zeshi and the Shiko have been going on for years. Recently tensions have increased. Shipments have gone missing. Accusations of sabotage. That sort of thing.”
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