“There’s no way out of there,” she said, as Shin reached her.
“There’s one way,” Shin said. He waved Kasami and Aimi back, and stepped inside. Shijan was waiting for him at the far end near Ruri’s cell. He’d opened the door, and she stood, the tip of his sword pressed to her throat.
Shin sheathed his own sword and folded his hands. “Hello, Shijan. Funny seeing you here.” He looked up. “Strange weather we’re having.”
“Shut up,” Shijan growled.
Shin forced a smile. “Now is that any way to talk to the man who’s going to save your life? One would think you might be able to muster a bit of courtesy, even now.”
Shijan gave a bark of laughter. “Save my life? You’re the one who’s ruined it – and all for a worthless ronin.” He turned his blade, digging the tip into Ruri’s throat. She made no sound, her soot-smudged expression one of calm.
Aimi was not so composed. She ignored Shin’s attempt to wave her back. “Let her go, Shijan. Take me instead. I am a better hostage.” Her hands moved frantically, belying the monotone calm of her voice.
Shijan frowned, as if considering this. Shin spoke up quickly, before the other man could come to a decision. “All things considered, I am a better option,” he said. “There is a greater risk to all concerned if I should die.”
Shijan glared at him. “I do not know that I could trust myself not to cut your throat.” He gestured to his cousin. “Get over here – now!”
Aimi started forward, but Shin caught her arm. “No, I think not.”
“I will kill the ronin,” Shijan insisted.
“I am aware,” Shin said, softly. He met Ruri’s gaze and she nodded, ever so slightly. “But you must know that this is a trade I will not allow.”
Shijan snorted. “After all the trouble you went to to save her?”
“Even so.”
Aimi clutched at his arm and gave a soft, inarticulate cry. Shin ignored her and kept his eyes on Shijan. “Kill her, and I will still have Kasami take you alive. Minus a hand, perhaps – or a leg. There is no way out for you.”
Shijan was silent for a moment. Then, “Tell me – where did you go today? I expected you to be here, but you weren’t. You went somewhere, talked to someone – who?”
Shin said nothing. Shijan nodded. “Yes, I thought so. You talked to them, didn’t you? My silent partners in all of this. They tried to kill me, you know. This is all because of them – they set me on this path, and then had the gall to complain when they at least felt the heat of the flames they’d helped kindle.”
“Yes. They did seem an ungrateful bunch.”
Shijan laughed shakily. “You have no idea. I was not the first they have used so, nor will I be the last.”
Shin took a step towards him. “Then let me help you. Together, we might be able to see that they are brought into the light. You will not escape justice – so why should they?”
Shijan gave a sickly smile. “A good point. But I do not need you to help me repay them. I will do so in my own time, in my own way, I assure you.”
“Be that as it may, you will not do so today. Let Ruri go, put down your sword, and surrender. There is still a chance to survive this.”
Shijan’s eyes narrowed. He hesitated – Shin saw the tip of his sword slide away from Ruri’s neck. As it did so, she leapt forward, out of the cell and away. Aimi cried out and lunged to meet her. Shijan cursed and made to follow, but Shin interposed himself. Without turning, he said, “Kasami, see them to the house. I will be along shortly.”
“No,” she said.
“It was not a request,” Shin said, flatly. He lifted his sword, and Shijan’s expression wilted. His confidence had evaporated, but his defiance remained. He lowered his sword. The gesture seemed to satisfy Kasami, and Shin heard her usher the other two out. “That’s better,” Shin murmured. “Now we can talk in private.”
“I have nothing to say to you,” Shijan said, hoarsely.
“Not yet. But maybe later. Later, when you’ve had a chance to think on things.” Shin took another step towards him. “These friends of yours – ex-friends, I should say – they are dangerous. So are you, but they are more so, I think.”
“You have no idea. But you will. You’ll find out soon enough, if you were foolish enough to make a bargain with them. Even if not. They have a way of getting their hooks into you, whatever your intentions.” Shijan raised his sword.
Shin tensed. “Do not do this.”
“I will not surrender. I will not be shamed by you, or anyone.” Shijan made to say something else when there came a distinctive tap-tap from the direction of the doors. Shin turned. The smoke parted – and there was Emiko. The blind woman had her head cocked, listening. Her cane was held tight across her body.
“It is too late for that, I think,” she said.
Shijan made a strangled sound, deep in his throat. He took a step forward. Shin fancied that he could see the frayed strands of Shijan’s courage finally snap.
“Shijan – listen to me. Surrender and I will do what I can to–”
Shijan wasn’t listening. He charged forward, face stretched in a silent snarl. Shin stepped aside, narrowly avoiding a wild blow. He drew his sword, but Shijan did not stop. He barreled towards Emiko – and past her, into the smoke.
Shin considered pursuing him, but stopped as Emiko turned to follow the fleeing noble. “Do not concern yourself, Crane,” she said. “As we promised, we shall clean up our mistakes.” She paused. “Thank you for your help.”
Shin lowered his sword and turned away. He felt sick at heart, but he had made a bargain, and he would not – could not – back away from it.
He did not look back, until the tapping of her cane had faded to silence.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Departures
“Well. This has been fun.”
Shin stood on the steps, looking up at Batu. His luggage was already loaded atop a horse, ready to be carried back to Two Step and the waiting boat. Behind him, Kasami stood watching as Kitano checked the bags.
“It has not,” Batu said. He looked up as a worker yelled something to one of his fellows. The house was crawling with them, as were the grounds. “But it has been interesting, I will say that.” He winced and pressed a hand to his side. “Too interesting.”
Shin nodded. “What now?”
Batu shrugged. “The negotiations are over.” He paused. “Ide Sora is staying for a few days. To make certain everything goes as it should.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“What other reason would there be?”
Shin laughed. “Never mind. Forget I asked.” He looked towards the horses. “What of Ruri? Has anything changed there?”
Batu shook his head. “The Zeshi are still arguing over the matter. I never passed a sentence on her and… well, for the time being, Aimi is in charge of the Zeshi fortunes here. If she wishes to retain the services of a ronin – or even formally adopt her into the family – who is to gainsay her?”
Shin smiled. “Who indeed?” He paused. “Any sign of Shijan?”
Batu frowned. “No. And I cannot say I am not glad of it. Better for everyone that he should disappear, I think.”
“Still – a man like that, I might prefer to have proof of death,” Shin said.
“Even if he is not dead, there is little harm he can do now. The Zeshi have disowned him, and from what I hear, Honesty-sama is unhappy with him as well. If one side doesn’t catch him, the other will. No, in all likelihood, he’s resting somewhere in a shallow grave.” Batu sighed and smiled. “You were right.”
“About what?”
“All of it. If you hadn’t pressed the matter, there’s no telling what might have happened. Shijan might have gotten away with everything.”
“Or maybe he would have done nothing at all.”
Batu shrugged. “I’m trying to be nice, Shin.”
“It is appreciated, Batu.” Shin looked up at the sky. “Time to go, I think.” He snapped open his fan and made to turn, but stopped. “I meant what I said earlier. You should come visit, time and tide permitting. It would be good to see more of you.”
Batu nodded. “Perhaps I will. Goodbye, Shin.”
“Goodbye, Batu.”
The ride back down into the foothills was as uncomfortable as the ride up had been, but Shin bore it with stoic grace. He thought about all that had occurred over the last few days, since the fire. The negotiations had been completed, insomuch as those things could ever truly be completed.
Fifteen people had died altogether in the attack. Many others had been injured, both Zeshi and Shiko. He wasn’t certain how many of Honesty-sama’s men had been injured, though at least eight had been killed. He was certain that more would have died, had they not managed to stop Shijan.
He’d written letters to both the Ide and the Iuchi, detailing his findings. He’d left out all mention of the blind woman and her compatriots. It would only muddy the waters and raise unanswerable questions. He was not certain what would come of it all. Thankfully, it was not up to him.
His mind turned again to the bargain he’d made with Emiko and her lot. The thought of it still brought a twist of nausea. It had been necessary, but that did not make it sit better on his stomach. As a boy, he’d been taught time and again to never forsake his personal honor – but this wasn’t the first time he’d found a flaw in the iron of his code.
“Necessary,” he murmured to himself. The Daidoji did what was necessary, always. Even a reluctant Daidoji, such as himself.
Two Step was much as he remembered. Bustling, but quietly. Lun’s boat was waiting for them where they’d left it. Her crew was loading a cargo of leather goods for sale in the City of the Rich Frog, and she seemed pleased. Watching them load, he wondered whether Kenzō had finished going through his finances. He was almost looking forward to the conversation. After the last few days it would be something of a relief.
He was thinking of the theater when he heard the sound of a shamisen. He turned and saw her. Emiko. The blind woman stood on the shady side of a sake house, her face tilted towards the river. She sniffed the air, and Shin wondered if it smelled different to one who could not see. He strode towards her, and her dead eyes swung to meet him. He realized that she could hear his movements even amid the clamor of morning traffic. The thought was unsettling. “Good morning, my lord,” she said, in a clear, calm voice.
“Good morning, Emiko,” Shin said, politely.
The beginnings of a smile quirked at her lips. In the light, she was lovely – but it was the loveliness of a viper, all colorful scales and graceful movements. “You are going home,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
“We are.”
“I wish you a safe journey.”
Shin heard something in her voice – it put him in mind of the twitch of a cat’s tail. He studied the narrow figure, in her plain robes and bamboo cane, her eyes dull and unfocused. But the mind behind them was as sharp and as lethal as a blade. “Is that a warning?”
“You may take it as such, if you like.”
Shin glanced at Kasami. She was speaking to Nozomi. He took a quick step towards the blind woman and saw her twitch her cane, as if in preparation for a fight. “I would advise caution on your part, my lord. I am not undefended.”
“Yes. Did you know, I spotted it the first time we met.”
Emiko cocked her head. “Oh?”
“The way you carry it attests to its weight – it is somewhat heavier than a normal cane, isn’t it? Also, the bamboo rattles slightly against the metal, a common flaw in concealed weapons.”
She smiled thinly. “You are very observant.”
“Yes. Would you like to know what else I have observed?”
“If you wish to tell me.”
“I do. You are worried.”
“Concerned, merely. We wish to be your friends, Lord Shin. We hope you will not forget our arrangement when you are safely back in that fine city of yours.”
“Another warning.”
“Take it as you like,” she said.
“Perhaps I shall not take it at all.” Shin gave his surroundings a surreptitious glance. He saw no obvious threat, but that did not mean that it was not there. “Perhaps I shall wipe you from my mind as soon as I leave Unicorn lands.”
“That would be unfortunate. We can be of such help to one another.”
“As you were of help to Shijan?”
She paused. “Shijan… Shijan chose his path. We tried to show him another, but he preferred to make his own way.”
“He will never be caught, will he?”
“Do you wish him to be?”
Shin smiled grimly. “Do not offer the impossible. I fear he is already dead, his body buried in a shallow grave next to that of Zeshi Hisato.”
Emiko gave no sign that she recognized the name. Then, Shin had not expected her to. “It could be. Brigands and worse are a constant threat to travelers in these mountains. If he fled alone into the wilderness, any number of unfortunate fates might have befallen him.”
“A regrettable truth.” Shin looked towards the river. “The river is beautiful this time of morning. I am sorry you cannot see it.”
“Beautiful things are often dangerous.”
“Are you describing yourself, Emiko?”
She smiled prettily, revealing her crimson-stained teeth. “You flatter me, my lord. I am but a humble musician – a hinin, of no worth or importance.”
“And yet here you are, delivering a warning on behalf of a society which may or may not exist, save in the fevered delusions of a few.”
“One might ask if there is a difference between an empire and its hypothetical equivalent.” Emiko tilted her face up, and her eyes fluttered against the heat of the sun. “I do not think so, myself. Then I am but a poor, uneducated creature, barely fit to speak to one such as you.”
“Enough,” Shin said, softly. She paused.
“My lord?”
“Enough,” he repeated. “Spare me the false courtesies and get to the point.”
“Have I angered you, my lord?”
“If you had, you would not have to ask.” Shin sighed. “Let us not play these games. I am not Shijan. Do not treat me as if I am.”
She frowned – the first crack in her mask he had observed. “No, my lord. You are not him. Shijan was a little man with little dreams.”
“And what am I?”
She fell silent. Then, “We do not yet know. You are a samurai, but you do not act as a samurai ought to. You are clever, and clever men are dangerous.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“That cleverness is why we wish to be friends. As Yuzu said, we have use for clever men – men with the ear of governors and aristocrats.”
“And if I choose not to be of use?”
Emiko smiled again – a pretty viper, baring crimson fangs. “That would be unfortunate.”
Shin digested this as he considered how to reply. Finally, he said, “Did you threaten Shijan as well?”
“We do not make threats.”
“And yet, I feel distinctly threatened.” He snapped his fan open and gave it a flutter. “Let us put aside courtesy for the moment. You chose to help me because it served your purposes.”
“And you accepted our help because it served yours.”
Shin nodded. “So I did. We have helped one another. And now you think to make me a catspaw, as you did Shijan. But as we have both acknowledged, I am not Shijan. Therefore I will not be a catspaw. I will not be bullied or flattered into serving your purposes.”
“I thought the Crane were known for paying their debts.”
“And so I will. At a time and place of my choosing – not yours.” A dangerous game, but one Shin was willing to play, until such time as he could work out how best to deal with Emiko and her friends.
Emiko frowned. “That is not how this works.”
“No? A shame. For that is the only way it will work, with me.” Shin leaned close, staring into her sightless eyes. “I do not know the extent of your reach, but I know the extent of mine, and I think I have you beat.”
“Are you willing to test that, my lord?”
He laughed softly. “Yes, I am.”
Her smile vanished, wiped away by his laughter. Red teeth bared, she said, “You samurai, always so full of yourselves. So certain of your invulnerability. I might not be able to see, but you are the one who is blind!” She fell silent and her grip on her cane was white and tense as she raised it to the level of her face. Shin saw her thumb twitch, and heard the soft scrape of steel against bamboo.
He tensed, his hand falling to his own sword. Then he paused. “I see more than you think,” he said, and she hesitated. He closed his fan with a click. “Your anger is but another mask. You have many of them, I think. This one is less attractive than the others, but perhaps that is intentional.”
At his words, she relaxed immediately, and he sighed in satisfaction. She straightened and lowered her cane. “Any other bushi might have struck me down.”
“You said yourself that I am not as other bushi. Your attempt at provocation was crude. You would not last a moment in the Winter Court.”
“That is the finest compliment a man has ever paid me,” she said, and Shin almost laughed. He was not sure why she had attempted to provoke him, though he suspected it had been a test of sorts.
“Yes, well.” He stepped back, putting a small distance between them. “I am not one to deny the talents of another.” He took a slow breath. “Nor am I one to make promises I cannot keep. I owe you a favor, and it will be repaid, but at my discretion. If that is not good enough, then you may as well attempt to cut my throat now.”
“With your bodyguard so close? I am not a fool.”
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