by Paul Kidd
“I can carry Chiri san and Sura in a shopping basket in their animal forms. That would give me more than sufficient allies.” The slender priestess blushed, bowing once again. “Please do not misunderstand me – the idea frightens me. I have never been the adventurer that Sura is. But if I can help you, then I shall.”
Kuno nodded, approving the woman’s courage and determination. He bowed to her in respect.
“Excellent, Reiju san! It is a good plan.”
Tonbo growled, deeply unhappy with the whole idea.
“Reiju san will need more protection than a white rat and a little fox.”
Sura was already scoffing the last of her breakfast and setting aside her spear. She glared at Tonbo in annoyance.
“We’ll be enough. Reiju and I have done this sort of thing before.”
One of the household’s maids hunted out a large basket and lined it with a cotton towel. Kuno carefully inserted Sura’s kodachi, ‘Brush-tail,’ into the basket. He followed the short sword with Sura’s full canteen.
Before the maid’s astonished eyes, Sura and Chiri both turned into their animal forms. They glided up out of their clothing, shook themselves, and then slipped beneath the basket lid. Sura’s bright fluffy tail draped down outside the basket. Chiri’s little white rat face peeked out, saw the tail, and then she reeled it in out of sight.
Bifuuko and Daitanishi popped into the basket beside Chiri, wriggling about and trying to make themselves comfortable. A few moments later, Chiri’s delicate snout appeared once more. The rat spoke most politely to the maid.
“May I have a rice-ball please?”
The maid passed over a small straw container that held two rice balls that had been dusted with spice, seeds and seaweed. The little rat gave a bow of thanks, and the snacks swiftly disappeared into the basket.
Reiju hefted the basket; it was heavy, but not too dire. She set it on her arm, and arose, ordering her robes.
Kuno made quiet enquiries amongst some of the senior Ishigi samurai. It seemed that there were other sword polishers – the best of them were over near the town’s main market.
Reiju received her directions. Kuno and the troubled Tonbo walked her through the house towards the gate. Tonbo was scowling in concern.
“Please be careful, Reiju san. Try not to look worried – but keep your eyes open! And if there is any trouble, drop everything and run!”
From down inside the basket, Sura gave a snort.
“She’ll be careful. Now shut up!”
Reiju bowed to Kuno and Tonbo. She left them hiding out of sight of the front gate, and walked off into the street, trying to be as fearless as a Spirit Hunter. Keeping back and unseen, Kuno watched the woman with great satisfaction.
“We are not beaten yet.” Kuno nodded briskly to Tonbo. “A most excellent woman, that Reiju! I can see why Sura is so fond of her!”
Happily oblivious to Tonbo’s concerns, Kuno settled his weapons in his sash. He decided to lead Tonbo on a walk far from the markets, thus drawing the attention of any lurking spies.
He had a sudden sense that they were moving forward on the case. The day was young, and Sura had come up with a plan.
She was – after all – a fox!
Chapter 5
Morning sunshine streamed down onto the river gorge, lighting the water with a brilliant silver sheen. The town streets bustled with people – many discussing the terrible fire of the night before. But the daily business of life went on. Shops were open, and street stalls laid out their wares. Farmers from the surrounding fields set out their vegetables, eggs, beans and bales of grain for sale.
Wandering traders and entertainers were still working busily all through the streets. The storyteller and his monkey were setting up for business by the market square, already drawing a fascinated crowd. Head down and trying to look as innocent as possible, Reiju carried her basket past the storyteller and his audience, and out into the middle of the square.
Priests from the island sword-shrine were a common sight in the town. Passing townsfolk bowed to Reiju in respect as they passed. She nodded strained little bows in return, trying not to seem as if she sought for assassins in every shadow.
Reiju squeaked as something suddenly tugged at her from inside the basket. Sura’s black paw yanked at Reiju’s clothing, steering her towards a booth that was selling crispy roasted pork belly all topped with crackling. The vendor – a Tanuki raccoon-dog spirit with a great fluffy tail – cheerfully chopped up squares of tender pork, the crackling making a glorious crunch beneath the cleaver. The meat was piled onto broad leaves and wrapped deftly into a package. Reiju paid the man and slipped the food inside the basket. There was an immediate ruffle as both rat and fox began to eagerly dig into the pork.
Reiju tried to walk serenely onward through the market. But the sound of crackling being munched within the basket made her swerve to avoid passers-by. The priestess bobbed a nervous bow here and there, and tried to give pedestrians a wide berth. Finally Reiju hastened over to the shadow of a tree. She set the basket down and pretended to tie her sandal, whispering urgently to her friends.
“You must be more quiet! Someone will hear!”
“Oh – no one’s going to hear us over that storyteller! You worry too much!” Sura’s black nose appeared from beneath the cover cloth. “We’re fine…!”
“Trust you – you’re a fox. Yes…” Reiju irritably tugged the cover tightly in place over the basket. “Now shush! This is the market street. There are hilt makers and sword polishers just over the bridge.”
The fox spoke with her mouth full.
“Good! Look busy! Go buy some stuff.”
It was indeed a fine idea. A vegetable vendor sat nearby, surrounded by piles of yard-long, magnificent white radishes. Reiju purchased several and laid them firmly atop her basket, planking Sura and Chiri over with a solid layer of vegetables.
She was just setting out towards the bridge, when a small grey figure came shuffling awkwardly towards her. The little figure bobbed in a bow, looking to Reiju in relief.
It was Fukose Genjo’s housekeeper. The little woman carried a long slender bundle wrapped with printed cloth. She came before Reiju and bowed once again.
“Honoured priestess Reiju – good morning.”
“Good morning, Onna san.”
The housekeeper seemed quite exhausted – and her day had only just begun. She looked anxiously up at the priestess.
“Please excuse me for disturbing you, but last night the Spirit Hunters told me to take Genjo san’s bills to them. They neglected to tell me where I might meet them. Do you happen to know where they are staying?”
“Yes, Onna san.” Reiju turned to point her way back along the streets. “They are at Lord Ishigi’s river house – the one with the balcony.”
The housekeeper sighed.
“Ah so.”
The old woman was tired. She hitched up her bundle, clearly finding it all just too awkward to bear. She gave an agitated sigh.
“I do hope the Imperial Deputy is at hand today. I have Genjo san’s sword, and it is such a burden. I don’t think it is wise for me to keep it lying about the house!”
The basket jerked. Sura’s fox face suddenly emerged up from beneath the radishes.
“What! A sword?” Sura’s appearance had left the housekeeper quite bewildered. “Oi! In here! In the basket! What sword?”
The housekeeper blinked. She tried to treat this as an everyday occurrence, as though talking animals in baskets were just part of a humdrum day. She bustled up and peeled back the cloth that covered her bundle, revealing a beautifully decorated sword.
“It is poor Genjo san’s sword, Kitsune san! The sword polisher’s messenger brought it last night, along with his bill.”
Sura absolutely goggled.
“It was with you all the time?”
“Of course, Kitsune san!” The housekeeper seemed utterly surprised. “Why? Do you wish to see it?”
Sura went
into frantic overdrive inside the basket, waving at the housekeeper.
“We’ll look after it. Quick! Wrap it up! Hide it in with the radishes! Hurry!”
Sura dove back down into cover. The housekeeper and Reiju knelt and wrapped the sword, planting it atop the basket and hiding it amongst the long white radishes. The housekeeper caught a glimpse of Chiri’s little face and whiskers, and went stiff with alarm. She leaned over and whispered into Reiju’s ear.
“Reiju san – I believe there is a rat inside your shopping basket.”
Reiju whispered back.
“Yes, Onna san. Thank you. They were on special today…”
Reiju arose, tucking the basket beneath one arm. From inside the basket, Sura managed to run her paws over the sword’s sheath. She patted at the weapon in absolutely gloating satisfaction.
“Honoured housekeeper, I love you and I want to have your babies!”
Reiju bowed to the now thoroughly confused housekeeper, backing off towards the street.
“The kitsune means to say that she thanks you, Onna san. We shall take the sword to the proper authorities.”
Reiju turned and hastened off down the street. She leaned her head to whisper towards the basket.
“Are you sure this is the sword?”
Chiri’s little pink snout peeked through a gap in the radishes.
“It is likely, Reiju san. Please attract no undue attention.”
A considerable crowd had gathered about the ode reciter and his costumed monkey. Having finished their performance, both man and monkey were collecting coins from the crowd. Reiju threaded past the snarl in traffic, moving aside to let an official on a horse ride by. She turned, and a lady from the edge of the crowd caught her eye.
The lady approached, and gave a gracious bow. She was an elegant, lithe woman dressed in the robes of a high ranking samurai’s wife. She wore formal face makeup, and was attended by a Buddhist monk and a porter.
The lady spoke in a well-educated voice – soft and slightly husky. She moved with an elegant calm.
“Honoured priestess. Please forgive this unseemly approach – but I was wondering if you were the priestess Reiju who is attached to the island shrine?”
This was clearly a person of great quality and presence. Reiju responded with a graceful bow.
“Yes, my lady. I am she.”
“Excellent!” The lady seemed greatly relieved. “We have heard that your shrine guards the famous ‘Sword of Blood’ – the sword that slew the evil Demon Oni King, and that many other swords are therefore placed in your care.”
“Quite true. We are called the ‘sword shrine’. It is my onerous duty to attend the infamous blood sword.”
Reiju and the samurai lady spoke back and forth. But inside the cramped and crowded basket, Sura and Chiri struggled to find a spy hole. They finally found a gap in the weave, and caught sight of the elegant lady. Sura instantly recognized her as the ninja woman from the night before. Makeup had been cleverly used to cover the cut upon her face. Chiri gasped, and looked at the lady, her monk and her porter. All were notably trim and taut.
“Ninja!”
Reiju strolled along next to the supposed samurai lady, always glad to be in polite company. The ninja woman fanned herself, inclining her head as she made her introductions.
“I am Shuno Akiko, a young widow. My maiden name was Fukose Akiko. The executioner Fukose Genjo was my father.” The woman gave a sigh full of sadness. “We were greatly estranged after my marriage, and the wound never healed, even when my husband died. Word of my father’s death reached me too late to attend his funeral. I have come to pay my respects – and also to take charge of my father’s debts, affairs and effects and do all that is right and proper by him.” The woman managed to seem horribly pierced by regret. “I have not even the smallest keepsake of him.”
Reiju was immediately filled with sympathy.
“How may I help you, Shuno san?”
“My father had a sword that was important to him.” The elegant lady waved her fan. “Oh – it was only an old blade, chipped and scuffed – but it reminded me very much of his soul. I wondered – since the sword is not at the magistrate’s office – whether it was brought to your temple for safekeeping?”
Sura had wormed one paw out between the radishes and was tugging at Reiju’s robes, trying to warn her. Finally she poked her friend in the backside with one claw. Reiju felt it at last – and suddenly realised that she was in trouble. She looked at the monk and porter – both grim and watchful men. Reiju paled, and tried to move her basket further away from view.
“A sword…? Scuffed, you say…?” Reiju had many wonderful qualities: being a subtle liar was not one of them. “No, I don’t believe so. But I would have to check. I can ask my colleagues, and give you a proper answer tomorrow…?”
The monk had moved behind Reiju. He suddenly saw the wrapped sword hidden beneath the great long radishes.
“My lady!”
The samurai lady bent silkily down, sly and cat-like, inspecting Reiju’s basket.
“What is that you have there, Reiju san?”
The priestess blanched, trying to back away. “Nothing! A walking stick I have been carving for a friend…!”
The samurai woman whipped out a hand and seized the sword. Chiri instantly lunged and sank her chisel teeth deep into the woman’s hand, biting right through to the bone. Sura burst up out of the basket, fangs flashing. Snarling, she clamped onto the woman’s rear. The ninja woman screamed – the basket fell clashing and clanging, spilling weapons to the ground. The two animals fell free, and Sura spat a scrap of bloody silk out of her jaws.
“Boring conversation anyway!” The fox yelled back to Reiju. “Run! Go!”
Chiri and Sura flashed and changed into their half-animal forms, standing naked in the road before the astonished ninja. Reiju seized the sword, hiding it beneath her robes, and hesitated in indecision. Sura drew her kodachi, while Bifuuko and Daitanishi rose up to hover at her side.
“Reiju! Go!”
Sura seized a market table laden with pots and pans, and hurtled it over to block the ninjas’ path. Naked and lithe, the fox hurtled a wok straight at the female ninja, knocking the woman’s wig askew. Sura threw a savage barrage of skillets, pots, pans and cauldrons, driving the ninja back and buying time for Chiri to flick her gaze about the street.
White, slim and naked, the rat looked wildly about. She sensed something above her, and looked to see nearby rooves clad in heavy baked clay tiles. The rat spirit threw open her arms, brought power seething up from her core, and set the air about her churning with a spell.
“Earth that has been baked in fire!
Tiles that hand of man has made!
Stir yourselves into the air,
Come now flying to my aid!”
The tiles trembled, shifting and creaking. Climbing up into view came two strange, clicking little earth elementals – beings shaped like baked red clay. They peered down at Chiri, blinking in confusion. Just below them, the ninja woman had thrown off her clumsy wig and dragged a pair of swords out of her robes. The clay elementals clattered back and forth. Chiri reached down into the ground with her power, lifting upwards and shaking with the strain.
“In the name of friendships old,
Spirits, spirits, heed to me!
We beg you come into the fray.
Your friends are here in desperate need!”
Two more little elementals appeared. The creatures ran to positions along the roof ridge, and all set up a strange little swirl of power. The entire sheet of tiles beneath them heaved, lifted, and suddenly came cascading downwards, right atop the three ninja.
The tiles thundered downwards like a waterfall, crashing and shattering, breaking into shards. The ninja were almost buried, blinded by dust and flying fragments. Sura seized hold of a long radish and wrapped it in a cloth from the fallen market table. She waved the bundle in the air, shouting at the ninja woman. Makeup askew and cl
othes in ruins, the ninja saw the bundle – saw Sura, and then shouted to her men as Chiri and Sura took off into an alleyway at a run.
The ninja fought free of the storm of tiles. Coughing, staggering and bleeding, they blundered into the alleyway, drew weapons, and raced in pursuit of the two animal spirits.
Sura and Chiri fled naked down the alleyway and through the market with Daitanishi and Bifuuko swerving and racing at their sides. They leapt over astonished old women who sat with vegetables set out on mats. Sura skipped aside past two old men who sat playing an intricate game of Go, looking to make certain that the ninja were coming: she wanted to buy Reiju time to make her escape. The old men never once looked up.
Sura saw the enraged ninja burst out into the street. She took off with Chiri, still carrying her wrapped radish. The ninja came in hot pursuit, putting on an astonishing burst of speed.
The two animal spirits fled wildly off down the main river road. Tails flying and bare backsides flashing, they raced past carpenters and workmen repairing boats, leaping over lumber and stacks of boards. They ran past a long line of small school children who were all being instructed on the verities by an elderly sage. The children and sage all bowed to one another, and the animal spirits sped down along the row almost unnoticed.
Two porters carrying lumber saw the naked women racing past. Both men turned in astonishment. The pursuing ninja ducked in panic, almost knocked flat by the wooden boards as they swung about. One man careened into a porter and fell, spilling a pair of throwing spikes out of his sleeves.
Hefty jugs of fish oil had been unloaded outside a merchant’s house. Chiri sprang effortlessly over the stack of jars. Sura followed, but pulled at the jars behind her as she passed, crashing one to the ground. As the ninjas came racing up behind them, the ninja woman leapt over the jars. She hit the spilled oil on the other side and fell backwards into the entire pile of jars. Reeking fish oil drenched her. The other ninja had to plunge through a house to try and outflank the spill, bursting back out into the street and hunting wildly for their vanished prey.
