“Obviously.”
Minami stiffened at his tone, but continued. “The contact was a merchant named Saiga. It is he who provided the rice, hired the crew and arranged the entire deal.”
“Had you worked with him before?”
“We were not working with him. He was a merchant. He sold goods. We did not ask where those goods came from. Nor were we alone in that. The Unicorn and the Dragonfly both availed themselves of his services.”
“Buying stolen cargo, you mean.”
She frowned and nodded. “Yes. Ask Shichiro, if you do not believe me.”
“I will, the next time I speak with him.” Shin took another sip of tea and pondered this revelation. Another name, another link in the chain. He would have to speak to this Saiga as soon as possible. “You knew the rice had been stolen from the Unicorn docks. But why did you assume it was deliberate sabotage?”
“Saiga told us as much when we questioned him.”
“Did he now?” Shin leaned forward. “And what else did he say?”
“That the Unicorn had engineered the entire scheme to humiliate us. They intended that we would sell the rice and sicken our customers.”
“A mild form of humiliation.”
Minami’s eyes flashed. “It would have damaged our business for weeks, if not months. No one will buy rice that makes you sick.”
“Not intentionally, at least.” Shin sat back, his fingers steepled before him. “Why declare war over it, though?”
“This was not the only incident.”
Shin raised an eyebrow. “It is the first I have heard of. There have been others?”
“Some. Most of them were simply sabotage of the usual sort. But of late, the number and severity of those incidents have increased. We kept it quiet as we pursued our own investigations, but… there is a pattern.”
“Tell me about them.”
“We’ve lost cargo. Stolen or sunk.”
“And how do you know the Unicorn was involved… wait.” Shin held up a finger. “Saiga told you this as well, under duress.”
“Yes.”
“How do you know he was telling the truth?”
“What sort of heimin can lie with a blade against his throat?”
Shin nodded. There was a ring of truth to that. “Go on.”
“Saiga told us all. It was all the Unicorn. Or so he believed.”
“But you doubted him?”
Minami looked uncomfortable. “I was not sure. I believed that he thought it was so, but that does not make it so. I hoped finding the boat would shed more light on the matter.”
“But you haven’t.”
“No. It is not in the city. Or, if it is, it is being hidden where we cannot find it.” She sat back. “Now you know all that I know.”
“And it is quite helpful, thank you.”
She looked at him expectantly. “And what do you know?”
Shin hesitated, wondering how much he ought to share. “The rice was poisoned by a shinobi, though as to who might have employed them to do so, I cannot say. This Saiga, possibly, but there are inconsistencies…”
“Such as?”
“Someone attempted to do away with the shinobi in question. I am not yet certain whether they succeeded in this, or failed.” Shin took another swallow of tea. “I will question this Saiga myself tomorrow. You have him under observation, I assume?”
“No. Once we questioned him, I saw no further reason to keep an eye on him.”
Shin set his cup down. “That is unfortunate. He might well have left the city in the interim. Still, I have my own agents working to locate the ship. Once we have it, and its crew, I will find Saiga as well. With their testimonies, I should be able to more fully piece together this scheme – and locate its instigator.”
“And once you have done so, you will inform me, Crane.”
“Of course. We are allies, at least in regards to this matter.”
Minami snorted. “I would not go that far.”
“I am also obligated to inform Shichiro, you understand.”
“Yes. Of course.”
Shin looked at her. “What do you know about the Dragonfly shugenja, Tonbo Kuma? I am to meet them later today concerning this matter.”
“The Dragonfly have nothing to do with this,” she said, bluntly.
“That we know of,” he countered. “From where I sit, it is likely that an agitator intended to stir up hostilities between yourself and Shichiro. The Dragonfly would surely benefit from such a conflict…”
Minami shook her head. “That is unlikely. The Dragonfly garrison is minuscule in comparison to mine, or the Unicorn’s. They barely have enough men to patrol their own docks. And reinforcements are not within easy reach.” Her eyes narrowed. “Unless…”
“Unless they made an alliance with another faction,” Shin said. “Whoever they joined with might be able to take the city from the rest of you.”
She frowned thoughtfully. “As I said, unlikely.”
“But not impossible.”
“No.”
Shin nodded. “Your hostility to the Dragonfly is well documented. Perhaps this scheme was meant to provoke you into a trap of sorts. Something to consider, perhaps.”
“Yes.” She paused. “But regardless, you must find who is responsible, or I will not be able to stop what is coming. The Lion will have their due, in honor – or in blood.”
Shin met her eyes and gave a solemn nod. “Then let us make sure that it is in the former, and not the latter.” He bowed. “I thank you, my lady. I wish you good day.”
Minami did not reply. Instead, she rose to her feet. Shin made to rise as well, but she waved him back. “I can show myself out.”
Shin settled back, feeling satisfied with himself as he watched her depart. He was certain, now, that neither the Unicorn nor the Lion were behind the poisoned rice. There was a third party involved. But was Saiga the mastermind, or merely another catspaw?
He poured himself another cup of tea and savored it.
Chapter Eighteen
Shugenja
“Have you ever met a shugenja before?” Shin asked, shifting in his seat as a near miss with another flatboat caused their pilot to shout at the offending craft and make a sharp gesture. The river was crowded this morning. Above, the sky was all pinks and oranges as Lady Sun began her journey.
“No,” Kasami said. She sat opposite him, one hand on her sword and her eyes on the water. In contrast, Shin’s eyes were on the shrines that crowded at the intersection of the two rivers. Even at a distance, something about them made him distinctly uncomfortable.
“They are… odd, for lack of a better term. At least I have always found them to be so.” He snapped open his fan and gave it a desultory twitch. “Some investigators make use of their abilities to ferret out information, though evidence found in such a way is inadmissible in court. Spirits, it seems, are no more honest than men.”
Kasami gave a sharp laugh. “So why bother talking to them, then?”
“Who – the spirits, or the shugenja?”
“Either.”
“A good question. And the answer is Kaeru Azuma. He seemed surprised that I had not yet received an invitation to speak to Tonbo Kuma. This made me wonder why that might be – and so, I’ve decided to ask.”
“Do you think they’re involved?” Kasami asked.
“I do not know. I am certain a third party is involved. Azuma believes this poisoned rice to be an act against Tetsua’s position, rather than against one of the clans. Tetsua himself may hold the same belief, even if he didn’t voice it.”
“And you?”
“I do not have enough facts to compose an opinion. An investigator must keep an open mind at all times, so that they might assemble a theory free of bias. Only the facts matter.” Shin frowned. “T
hat is what Agasha wrote. The key is in finding the facts – and then successfully assembling them into the correct order.”
Kasami looked at him. “And what is the correct order?”
Shin began to tick the points off with his fan. “One – someone has been engaged in acts of sabotage against the Lion. Two – someone, possibly the same someone, stole a shipment of rice off the Unicorn wharf. Three – this rice was sold to the Lion by a merchant named Saiga. Four – the rice was delivered by an unknown vessel to the Lion. Five – during the delivery, the rice was poisoned. Six – when the Lion discovered this, they sought out Saiga, who immediately blamed the Unicorn. Seven – someone tried to kill the shinobi who poisoned the rice.”
Kasami listened and nodded when he fell silent. “So why aren’t we looking for this Saiga?” she asked.
“No need. Ito knows every merchant in the city. I have asked him to come by for lunch – hopefully he will be able to direct us to Saiga. But he is only one link in the chain. We will need all of the links to find the end.” He fanned himself furiously, his face set in an expression of discontent. “It’s all so… clumsy.”
“What do you mean?”
Shin gestured aimlessly. “The whole affair… it’s clumsy. Hesitant. The rice, for instance. Clearly a feint, meant to provoke the Lion. All well and good. So why, then, kill the shinobi responsible?”
“Maybe it was just an attempt to cover their tracks,” Kasami said.
“Maybe. But something feels off about it.” He folded his fan and sighed. “We’re here.” The flatboat had passed among the shrines now, at the junction of the two rivers. The air was different here – cooler, and quieter save for the incessant frog-song. The noise of the city was muted, as if it were caught in the boughs of the willows that leaned so precariously over the water.
Great reefs of tangled willow root rose from the water, forming small islands. Upon each was a simple stone structure. They resembled nothing so much as the shrines which littered the river banks for miles. But these were larger and sturdier.
The flatboat bumped against a jetty crafted from stone panels and woven roots. A rope rail lined either side of the jetty, stretching back to the abbreviated wharf that encircled the central shrine. Guards clad in the livery of the Dragonfly Clan were waiting. One stepped forward. She was a short woman, stout and round, with a friendly face. She smiled in welcome, and gestured. “Be at peace, Lord Shin. You are expected.”
“And here I’d hoped to surprise his lordship,” Shin said, gaily. The guard’s expression did not falter, and her smile remained fixed as Shin stepped onto the jetty. But as Kasami made to follow him, the guard’s hand fell to the hilt of her sword. Kasami paused, and Shin frowned. “Kasami is my companion, and bodyguard. She takes offense if left behind.”
“That is not my concern. You – and only you – are allowed to enter the shrine. Lord Kuma made that very clear.”
Shin drew himself up. He had expected as much, but saw no reason to accept it gracefully. “Do they fear I mean them harm? I was not aware that I had given them cause to feel thus.”
The guard bowed her head. “Lord Kuma fears nothing save the inadvertent pollution of this holy place. One who has shed blood with their own hand is not welcome within. Even we are not allowed to enter.”
“And how does Lord Kuma know that I have not?” Shin asked.
The guard looked at him. “Lord Kuma is privy to much that is hidden.”
Shin frowned. He looked at Kasami, and she snorted and sat back down. “I’ll be here when you’re finished,” she said, as she leaned back and closed her eyes.
“Very well,” Shin murmured. He turned back to the guards. “Now that is settled, please direct me to Lord Kuma.”
He was shown into the shrine moments later. It smelled of damp stone and mud. The air was filled with the croaking of frogs. Shin looked around, but saw little save shadows slashed through with shafts of light.
Shrines were the axle of life. Every community, no matter how humble, had its own. Sometimes they were small things – a single statue, set beside a lonely path – while other times they were mighty complexes of arched rooftops and vast chambers. The shrines of the Three Sides River were of a more primitive construction, built in a time before the kami had shown themselves. Or so the scholars insisted.
They resembled caves made from carefully tumbled stones. The floors were made from willow bark and rough cut timbers, and Shin could feel them twitch with the current. There were stones beneath the wood, but only in certain spots that no doubt had some significance known only to priests.
“Hello?” he called out, and his own voice echoed back at him. The rustle of cloth brought him around. A short, bald man stood a respectful distance away – the shrine keeper, Shin assumed. The man bowed low and, without speaking, gestured towards a crude archway, lit by softly flickering lanterns. Clearly, he was expected.
Shin thanked him with a nod. He’d heard that the priests who maintained the river shrines had taken a vow of silence, though no one was quite sure why. He strode towards the archway, trying to hide the growing unease he felt. It felt strange in here, though he could not say why. As if some miasma were seeping up from the water and tainting the air.
Past the archway was a larger, circular chamber. The walls were covered in primitive pictograms, drawn by some ancient hand. Shin paused just inside the entryway and tried to take it all in. There was a story to the pictures, but it was hard to decipher – shapes of great size and malevolence, moving among a fleeing people. And then – what? A second shape, or shapes, and what might have been a great storm, driving the giants into something he took to be the river – or the river as it had been.
“I have been told that, if one looks too closely, the shapes begin to move,” someone said from behind him. Startled, Shin turned to see a slight figure in white standing in the entryway. Shin retreated, and the speaker entered. “I have never seen them move, myself. But then, I know better than to gawp at such things.”
Shin bowed. “Lord Kuma. It is a pleasure to meet you at last.” The shugenja was a slim, androgynous individual with dark eyes and long hair bound back in a neat knot. They radiated strength. There was a decided firmness to them, beneath the seeming softness of their face and voice, and their gaze pulled at Shin like the river’s current.
“Lord Shin,” Tonbo Kuma said, in a voice so mild as to be just shy of insulting. “How kind of you to accept my humble invitation. You are quite busy, of late, I am told.”
“Busy is as busy does, or so say the sages,” Shin said. If Kuma noticed his attempt at humor, they gave no sign. Shin studied them.
Shugenja occupied a rarefied space in society. People of great spiritual potential, whose minds were bent to the gravest of affairs. They could invoke the kami and call up flames or crack the earth. Most of them, at least those of Shin’s acquaintance, were quite strange. They saw the world through different eyes.
“Water pervades life,” Kuma said. “I was taught to feel its ebb and flow in all things.” They raised a hand and the air tensed and rippled about their fingers. Shin watched the gesture, fascinated. To his knowledge, few had the sort of visible control that Kuma displayed. And it was a display – entirely for his benefit.
“I was under the impression that more than just gestures, however graceful, were required of one seeking to invoke the kami.”
Kuma smiled. “You are perceptive.”
“I know little, but a little is still an amount.”
“A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing.”
Shin returned Kuma’s smile. “So I’m told.”
Kuma looked around. “The pull of the kami is strong here in these temples. They speak loudly, if one but has the wit to hear them.” They swept their hand out, and the air rippled like the surface of a pond. “When I came here, the spirit of the river was in turmoil. Too much blood
had spilled over the banks, too many bodies glutted the shore.”
“It sounds unpleasant.”
Kuma nodded. “Things are better now. But, of late, the Lion grows restive, and the Unicorn paws the earth.”
“And the Dragon?”
“The Dragon waits.”
“The Crane is impatient,” Shin said. “Waiting never suited us, save when it did.”
“You do not wait for others, you make others wait for you,” Kuma said. Shin chuckled appreciatively.
“Yes, exactly. Something we have in common with the Dragon, I think.”
“The only thing, perhaps.” Kuma looked at him. “Your grandfather is a member of the Daidoji Trading Council, I believe.”
Bemused by the abrupt change in subject, Shin nodded. He wondered how Kuma knew that. The identities of the trading council were not common knowledge. “So he is.”
“He sent you here to oversee the merchants of the Crane.”
“So he did.” Another thing they shouldn’t have known. Kuma was well informed for a veritable hermit. Perhaps Tetsua had told them, during one of their games.
“But you do not wish to be here.”
Shin paused. “Is that a question, or a statement?” Kuma was baiting him with idle conversation. Attempting to lead him down tangents, and off-topic.
“Take it as you wish.”
“We’ll call it a statement then. And an incorrect one. This city has much to recommend, and I am quite happy to enjoy its largesse.”
Kuma nodded. “My apologies.”
“No, it is I who should apologize for giving you the impression that I was unhappy with my lot. It could have led to awkwardness, something I am not fond of. Tell me, what else have you heard of me?”
“You made Lonely Shore City too small to hold you,” Kuma said. They knelt and extended a hand. A little green frog hopped onto their palm and croaked shrilly. Kuma nodded, as if the frog had said something of substance. “Or so the stories say.”
“Hardly so many as all that,” Shin protested.
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