by Julie Kagawa
My gaze lingered on Yumeko. A smile graced her lips as she followed the movements of the birds, the sun gleaming off her black hair and sliding over her skin. This morning, she had left a small portion of rice at the base of one of the oak trees, a gift for the kodama. Though in the bright sunlight, it was hard to imagine that the night before, it had been filled with kami.
I shook myself. Last night had been surreal in many ways. I still couldn’t believe I’d revealed so much, both about myself and the sword. The Kage would not be pleased that I’d told her of Hakaimono, but if we were to travel together, at least now she was forewarned. She had certainly surprised me yesterday, both in saving my life and speaking to the kami on my behalf. I’d never thought I’d be indebted to a peasant girl with no warrior training, but there was certainly more to her than I’d first thought. I was...somewhat relieved that the truth about Kamigoroshi hadn’t frightened her away.
Deep inside, I could feel Hakaimono’s cold amusement. Yes, it seemed to whisper. Keep her around. Tell her there is nothing to fear, that you will be able to protect her. It will make the moment you strike her down all the sweeter.
Chilled, I severed the connection and felt the demon fade away, though the echo of its laughter rippled through me, accenting my mistake. I’d spoken of demons and yokai and the things that wanted me dead, but in truth, the greatest danger to Yumeko was standing right beside her.
After a few hours, we left the forest and followed the river once more as it wound lazily through a valley, heading north toward the capital. By my estimations, we were perhaps a day or two from the border, which was going to be a problem. I’d lost my travel papers when my horse had fled the amanjaku, and there was no way to acquire more, legally or not. No one cared about the peasant class, so Yumeko would be fine, but an unauthorized samurai wandering through another clan’s territory was cause for alarm. Without proper documents, if we went through the checkpoint between territories, I would likely be detained for an indefinite amount of time while they decided what to do with me. Since that option was out of the question, I was going to have to find a way around, as sneaking through the checkpoint with Yumeko would be too risky.
A flutter of blue caught my eye, coming from a way station standing alone at the edge of the trail. The small wooden establishments were fairly common on the roads between towns, places where travelers could stop and purchase a hot meal or even a bed before continuing to their destination. Blue curtains were draped across the entrance and a miniature tanuki statue holding a sake jug perched in the window, welcoming customers.
Yumeko stopped in the middle of the road, inhaling deeply. “What is this place?” she wondered. “It smells wonderful.”
“Just a rest stop,” I told her. “You can buy a meal here, if you have the coin. We’re probably a few miles from a town...” I trailed off as she gave me a wide-eyed, hopeful look, and sighed. “I take it you’re hungry again.”
“I gave my rice to the kodama this morning,” she replied, looking plaintive. “All I’ve had to eat today is a plum.”
Digging into my money pouch, I silently handed her a few copper kaeru, and she smiled at me before hurrying to the rest stop window. She returned with two bowls of steaming soba noodles, and we took our food around the side of the building to eat. Low wooden benches lined the wall, spaced a few feet apart, but not all of them were empty.
A lone traveler slouched on a bench a few seats down, a sake bottle on the wooden surface and a cup in his hand. He was perhaps a few years older than me, wearing a tattered vest and trousers, and his dark, reddish brown hair was tied back while still managing to look unkempt. A single short blade was shoved through his obi, and a large onyx-wood bow lay on the bench beside him. He caught my gaze and smirked, lifting the sake cup in a mocking salute, before tipping the contents into his mouth.
I ignored him, having seen his kind many times before. A ronin, one of the masterless samurai that, through shame, dishonor, or the death of their lord, had been stripped of all wealth and titles and wandered the country in disgrace. A few found new lords to serve under, but many took whatever jobs they could, offering themselves as bodyguards or hired muscle, while others turned to banditry and murder. They were considered uncouth and uncivilized, having abandoned the code of Bushido and everything they once stood for, and the samurai despised them. Because they were a constant reminder of what could happen to any of them, at any time.
I perched on the edge of the seat as Yumeko sat down beside me, already engrossed in her food. I deliberately did not look in the ronin’s direction, though I could feel his gaze on us as he took another swig of sake, drinking straight from the bottle this time. In my travels, I had encountered two main types of troublemakers—the type who took offense to being noticed, and the type who took offense to being ignored. Of course, there were also the ones who were just looking for trouble, and they were impossible to avoid. I hoped this ronin wasn’t that type.
“Oi,” came a mocking voice from the other end of the benches, dashing my hopes. The ronin was watching Yumeko, a wide smirk on his face. “I saw that look. Don’t you know it’s rude to stare, little lady?”
Yumeko blinked and looked up from her bowl, a mouthful of soba dangling from her lips. She swallowed quickly. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t staring at you,” she said. “Unless you’re talking about the noodles. And I’m pretty certain the noodles don’t care.”
“Ignore him,” I told her quietly, concentrating on my own food. “He’s trying to bait you into conversation.”
“I heard that,” the ronin stated, sitting upright on the bench. “And that was very rude. If I were still a samurai, I might have to demand satisfaction from your quiet friend there.” He rose, and I wished I still had the kunai throwing knives hidden in my bracers. Still, if he made any threatening moves, he would be dead before he knew what was happening.
Hakaimono stirred, sensing trouble, and I shoved the demon’s presence down.
Slinging the bow over his shoulders, the ronin sauntered forward, that defiant smirk still creasing his face. “Luckily for you,” he went on, “I’m a filthy ronin dog with no honor left to his name. Don’t want to risk soiling your own by having a civil conversation with me, right?”
Yumeko cocked her head, puzzled and unafraid. “What’s a ronin?”
The other’s brows rose. Clearly, that was not what he’d expected. “Uh, well. They’re... You really don’t know what a ronin is?”
Yumeko shook her head. “I lived in a temple all my life,” she explained. “I don’t know much about the outside world, but I’m sorry if I offended you. If you would, please tell me what a ronin is, so that I won’t insult anyone else in the future.”
For a moment, the ronin just stared at her. Finally, he chuckled and shook his head. “Apologies, my lady,” he stated, and gave an overexaggerated, mocking bow. “As I said before, I’m a ronin. We’re dirty, uncouth barbarians who have forgotten our manners along with our honor, so you’ll have to forgive me if I’m a bit rusty on the social graces.” He seemed proud of that fact as he straightened again, smiling. “Let’s see if I can remember how to be polite. My name is Hino Okame. And whom do I have the honor of conversing with this fine afternoon?”
“Yumeko,” the girl replied. “And I’m no lady, just a peasant from the mountains. So, I’m a bit rusty on social graces, too.”
“Oh?” Without pretense, the ronin sat beside her, making me drop my hand to my sword hilt. Neither the ronin nor Yumeko seemed to notice. “So, you’re from the mountains, eh? What are you doing out here?”
“Traveling. Tatsumi and I are on our way to the capital.”
“Ever been to the city before?”
“No.” Yumeko shook her head. “Never. The outside world so far is...strange. But exciting.” She smiled and looked down the road, where it stretched away toward the distant mountains. “I’m learning so much. I can’
t wait to see what’s around the next bend.”
“Huh.” The ronin snorted. “Well, I’m afraid you’ll be disappointed in time, Yumeko-san. The world is full of bandits, murderers, liars and thieves. You can’t trust anyone. Especially ronin. Ever seen wild dogs before?” His grin crept back, defiant. “If they think you have food, they’ll follow you for a while, but try to pet them and they’ll go right for your throat.”
I wasn’t certain that Yumeko, with her sheltered upbringing, would get what the ronin was implying, but she lowered her bowl and looked the stranger in the eye. “And yet,” she said, “I’ve heard stories of wild dogs who would defend a stranger on the road to their last breath, simply because that person threw a crumb instead of a rock.”
The ronin smirked. “You have a strange way of thinking, Yumeko-san,” he said, shaking his head. “I bet your brooding friend there doesn’t think the same.” His gaze slid over to me, narrowing. I saw him take in my clothes and my sword, and a gleam of recognition ran through his eyes. “You’re a bit far from home, aren’t you, Kage?” he asked, his voice suspicious. “What are you doing way out here in Earth Clan territory?”
“Minding my own affairs.”
“Oho, mysterious.” The ronin snickered and turned back to Yumeko. “You’ll want to be careful around any members of the Shadow Clan, lady Yumeko. It’s said that a Kage never lies, but they never tell you the whole truth, either.”
“That sounds very difficult, Okame-san. How can you lie and tell the truth at the same time?”
“Trust me, they manage it.”
I put down my bowl and stood, facing the ronin, who watched warily from the other side of the girl. “I think it’s time for you to leave,” I said quietly.
“Yep, looks like I’ve overstayed my welcome.” The ronin chuckled and rose from the bench. “Took longer than I thought it would, though.” He swung his bow to his shoulder and raised a hand to the girl. “Sayonara, Yumeko-san. Maybe I’ll see you on the road sometime.”
“Okame-san,” Yumeko said, and held up her hand, where something glittered between her fingers. “Here.”
Puzzled, the ronin held out his hand, and she dropped a single copper kaeru into his palm. Frowning, the ronin glanced from the coin in his hand to the girl. “What’s this?” he asked.
Yumeko smiled and picked up her bowl. “A crumb.”
The ronin shook his head. “You’re a strange girl,” he muttered, though the coin vanished almost before he’d finished the sentence. “But hell, I won’t argue with free coin. Good luck on your travels, wherever you’re headed. You’re going to need it.”
With one last smirk at me, he turned and sauntered off. I watched until the solitary figure had vanished around a bend in the road before I sat down again.
“That was my money you just gave away so freely.”
She offered an apologetic grimace. “Gomen, Tatsumi. I’ll pay you back as soon as I can, I promise.”
That seemed unlikely, so I shrugged, resigned to never seeing that kaeru again. “It’s fine,” I said, retrieving my bowl. “I just hope you’re not planning free handouts to every ronin we meet from here to the Steel Feather temple.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I didn’t even think about it. It just...seemed like the right thing to do.” She pushed back her hair, looking thoughtful. “Master Isao had a saying. He told me that the tiniest pebble, when dropped into a pond, will leave ripples that will grow and spread in ways we cannot comprehend.” She paused, then smiled to herself, shaking her head. “Of course, sometimes that worked against me whenever I played a very small prank on Denga or Nitoru. The consequences would get bigger and bigger, things would spiral out of control, a troop of monkeys would end up in the prayer hall, and then I’d be polishing the veranda for the next month.” Her face crinkled in a half grin, half grimace, before she sobered again. “Now that he’s gone,” she murmured, “I want to remember everything he taught me. Out here, I feel like I can easily lose sight of what’s important. I don’t want to forget the things that will keep me...grounded.”
It sounded as if she was about to say something else, but I didn’t press it. We finished our bowls in silence, then headed back to the road. As we began walking again, I noticed the crow, perched on the roof of the rest stop, watching us as we left.
* * *
“Why don’t you like ronin, Tatsumi?”
I gave Yumeko a puzzled look. Past the way station, the land had opened up into rolling hills with scattered farms and thatched houses between them. Rice terraces set into hillsides dotted the landscape, and specks of people milled between them, working the fields that were the backbone of the whole country. It was very quiet on the road Yumeko and I walked, until the unexpected question came out of nowhere.
She cocked her head at me. “The ronin. Okame-san,” she clarified. “He didn’t seem so bad, no different than anyone else, except he kept calling himself a dog. Why would he do that? Is it because he chases rabbits? Or has fleas?”
“Ronin have no masters,” I told her. “And no honor. They’re disgraced, so they wander the land doing whatever they can to survive.”
“I have no master,” Yumeko said. “Not anymore. Does that mean I’m disgraced, too?”
“No. You’re a peasant.”
“Peasants are different than ronin?”
“Peasants have no honor to begin with,” I said. “No one expects them to behave above their station. Ronin were once samurai and lost their status.”
“But, they’re still the same, aren’t they?” Yumeko’s voice was confused. “They just lost their master and their title. That shouldn’t change who they are inside.”
“Sometimes it does.”
“How?”
“The code is a samurai’s whole life,” I replied. “Honor defines them. Duty to their master, their family and their clan is everything. Once they lose that, they are nothing, worthless. And everyone sees them as such.”
“You keep saying ‘them,’” Yumeko pointed out. “But, you’re samurai, too, aren’t you, Tatsumi?”
I didn’t say anything to that, and thankfully, she didn’t press the question.
As the sun was beginning to set, we left the valley and entered another forest, which grew thicker as we continued. Bushes, logs and gnarled roots spilled onto the narrow road, forcing us to step over or around them. Cedar, pine and camphor loomed overhead, crowding out the sky, and the air was heavy and quiet.
As we climbed a flight of mossy stone steps, flanked on both sides by huge shaggy trunks, Yumeko paused.
“Something is wrong,” she muttered, gazing warily into the trees. “It’s too still. The birds have all stopped—”
I jerked back, as an arrow streaked from the trees and struck the trunk behind me.
Raucous laughter echoed around us. Figures emerged from between the trunks, moving to block the steps from above and below—a half dozen rough-looking men with bows and wide, eager smiles. A large man with a bald head and a nose like a spoiled fig appeared at the top of the steps. He carried a large wooden club over one meaty shoulder, and grinned down at us with yellow, uneven teeth.
“Kage-san,” he greeted, as two smaller men came to flank him, pointing arrows in our direction. His voice was slow and gravelly. “How good of you to finally arrive.”
Bloodlust surged through me, Hakaimono waking to eager life, surrounded by so many enemies. The urge to draw the sword was nearly overwhelming; I forced my hand away from the blade and stared at the bandit leader, forcing myself to speak calmly. “Do I know you?”
“Naw.” The big man stumbled a bit, as if drunk, and gestured to someone behind us. “But Okame told us all about you, friend. I feel like we’re practically family.”
“Okame?” Yumeko sounded stunned as she glanced over her shoulder and saw the ronin we’d encountered earlier standing at the bott
om of the steps, an arrow nocked to his bow. His face was dark, and he didn’t meet her gaze. “What are you doing?”
“He was scouting the road for targets,” I told Yumeko, observing our situation. Two archers at the top of the steps, and three men behind us, including the traitorous ronin. “As soon as he left us, he went back to tell his friends we were coming.”
Yumeko continued to stare at the ronin, her voice soft. “Is that true, Okame-san?”
A heartbeat of silence, then the ronin raised his head with a defiant smirk. “Never trust filthy ronin dogs, Yumeko-chan.” He grinned, and the men around him snickered. “They have no honor left to their name. Next time, better to let the impatient samurai cut off my head and leave it in the sun to rot.”
The big man chortled. “Well said, dog. And we all know what happens next.” He swung his club into his palm with a meaty thwap and grinned at me. “Samurai, give us everything you have and we’ll let you live. If not, we’ll kill you and take it anyway. Oh, and leave the woman. She can keep me company tonight.”
“What?” Behind us, the ronin took a step forward, scowling up at his leader. “That wasn’t the plan, Noboru!” he called up the steps. “You told me we were going to take the money and let them go.”
“Changed my mind.” The big man ran a fat tongue along his teeth. “That was before I saw what a pretty little servant was with him. I haven’t had a woman in a long time.”
“That’s because they can smell you coming a mile away.” The other ronin’s voice was disgusted now. “I didn’t sign on for this. I might be a filthy ronin dog, but I’m not a rutting pig.”
The bandit leader scowled. “Last I checked,” he drawled, “I was the leader of this operation, and you were the mangy nobody we let join out of pity. You don’t like how we do things, Okame, you can leave. But the woman stays. Boys...” He glanced around at his men, then pointed at me. “Kill the samurai. Bring me the girl.”