“Why?”
“Because you are who you are, and we are who we are.”
Shin pondered this. “But you are not afraid of showing your face?”
“I am not important,” she said. “Merely a part of the greater whole. You need not fear. We mean you no harm.”
Shin snorted, annoyed with the melodrama of it all but nonetheless pleased that death was not on the agenda. “Wonderful. A conspiracy, then. And what do you want?”
A new voice, muffled, but still somewhat familiar, spoke up. “To tell you what you want to know. The name of the party responsible.”
“Zeshi Shijan,” Shin said. He smiled as a startled silence followed his words. “I am aware of Shijan’s perfidy. But I require proof – testimony, a confession, something.” He narrowed his eyes. “Again, I ask – who are you?”
“Our identities are not important,” the unseen woman said.
“I beg to differ. They are of the utmost importance, I think. How do you know anything of this matter?” He looked around. “Unless you are somehow involved.”
“We are concerned citizens,” Emiko said.
Shin shook his head. “No, I think not. There is something else going on here. A mystery beneath the mystery.”
A man’s voice this time, rough and stolid. “All you need to know is that Shijan is your quarry, and we can help you bring him to bay.”
“I do not require your help for that. I have already made arrangements in that regard.”
“The magistrate?” Emiko asked, head tilted.
“What of it?”
“He will not be enough.”
Shin paused. “What do you know?”
Someone cleared their throat. “It appears we do know something that you do not.”
Shin frowned. “Perhaps.”
“Then maybe we have something to discuss after all.”
“Did you bring me here to bargain?” Shin asked, and laughed. “You should know that I do not haggle with those whose faces I cannot see.”
The muffled voice again. “In this instance, you must.”
“Possibly.” Shin stared into the darkness. He hesitated, then said, “If you know of Shijan, then you must be involved somehow. I know that Shijan is in debt, and I suspect that he has been selling information to pay off those debts. What I do not know is to whom he has been selling it. I assumed it was to Honesty-sama.”
“You would be correct,” the muffled voice said.
“And how do you know that?”
“Because it is what we told him to do,” Emiko said. Shin looked at her. He’d expected something like that. Things began to click into place. Who better than someone placed as highly as Shijan to disrupt the negotiations?
“What? Why?”
“You do not need to know that,” the woman’s voice purred. “All you need to know is that your suspicions were correct. Shijan is the culprit.”
Shin looked around, taking in the darkened room, the lit candle, Emiko. He laughed softly. “Of course. Of course!”
“Why are you laughing?” Emiko asked.
“Because it all makes sense now. I could not see the motive for any of this – even Shijan’s motive was suspect. Selling information to get out of debt – possible, but there are other ways for a bushi to get money if he needs it. Unless he had no option. Unless someone forced him to do so. Under threat of exposure, perhaps.” He shook his head. “I wondered what I was not seeing, and here you are. Tell me, are you the reason Shiko Gen is dead?”
Another moment of silence. He could almost feel them looking at one another. Then, the polished voice spoke up. “We did not intend for Shiko Gen to die. We merely wished for the tensions between the families to continue – Gen was good at causing trouble, both for his family and the Zeshi. He was worth more to us alive than dead.”
“His death was Shijan’s fault,” the muffled voice added.
“But you are the ones pulling Shijan’s strings.” Shin smiled thinly. “And now you intend to cut them – why?” He held up a hand, forestalling any reply. “Let me guess, my investigation endangers you somehow. Or maybe you are simply cautious. Either way, why bring me here? Why not let Honesty-sama handle the problem for you, if he could?”
“It has gone beyond that now,” the muffled voice said. “Shijan wished to have you killed. We forbade it.”
“He defied you,” Shin said.
“He has gone his own way.”
“Perhaps he realized that you no longer had use for him.” Shin could feel their tension, though he could not see their faces. Shijan had not just angered them – he had scared them. That was why they were here, now.
“All the more reason to bring him to heel,” the muffled voice said.
“Then do so,” Shin said, flatly. He gestured. “You clearly have resources. Employ them. Make him vanish, as you no doubt did to Lord Hisato.”
“How did you know that?” the polished voice hissed, after a moment’s hesitation.
“I didn’t,” Shin said. “It was a guess, but thank you for confirming it. A tidy little scheme – remove Hisato, elevate Shijan, then blackmail him. Worthy of a courtier.” He looked at the shadowy figures. “Unfortunately for you, you are amateurs. You did not see all the variables – and so now you must scramble.”
“Not all of us are born with the crooked mind of a Crane,” Emiko said. Shin looked at her. She was smiling, but the expression was not a pleasant one. He was reminded of a tiger he’d once seen, as it gnawed on the leg of a goat.
“No, but you try your best regardless, for which I congratulate you.” He straightened his kimono. “I think you brought me here because you are afraid that Shijan is planning something else – something that will reflect poorly on you. Am I correct?”
“You are,” the muffled voice said.
“Then tell me.”
Silence. Then, “Shijan has more men in his employ than you realize. A small army, in fact. Two dozen men, at least. Killers – brigands and bandits.”
Shin blinked. “Why would he need so many? What targets other than myself and Reiji might he… Wait.” He felt a cold chill sweep through him. “The end of the negotiations. The Ide envoy, the Shiko, the Zeshi, Batu – they will all be in attendance.”
“He has nothing to gain by killing them,” Emiko said.
“He has everything to gain. Now, at least.” He laughed softly. “His only options are success – or death.” He stroked his chin, trying to see it from Shijan’s perspective. Ambition, fear, need – what might they drive a man to do?
Shin looked up. “Imagine, if you will,” he began, “a conspiracy to undermine the families of the Unicorn.” He gestured, indicating the shadowy figures. They shifted uneasily, and he smiled. He cleared his throat and went on.
“This conspiracy launches a deadly attack on two vassal families, even as they make peace with one another,” he said. “All present are killed – save one miraculous survivor, who, with the aid of the vengeful Iuchi and Ide, hunts down the culprits behind the deaths of his family. The conspiracy is shattered, and the hero of the hour rises to his rightful place in the esteem of the Unicorn.”
It was a good story – but only a story. There was no way to tell if that was Shijan’s plan, or merely fanciful thinking. But a good courtier knew that the truth was often shaped to fit the audience. They already suspected Shijan – all he had to do was give them reason to fear him. “Only a fool would think he could pull off such a deceit,” one of the masked figures spluttered, but unconvincingly. Shin laughed.
“Who will gainsay him? You? Or will you scatter and hide, hoping that he does not know more about you than you knew about him?” He laughed again. “He is a schemer and a gambler. This is his last throw of the dice. If he loses, he is finished. But if he wins – ah, if he wins, his fortune is assured.”
A murmur passed through them as they looked at one another. Shin gave Emiko a surreptitious glance, and saw that she, at least, did not seem unduly troubled. “You are not worried?” he murmured.
“Shijan is weak. He was always going to break. The only question was how much trouble he would cause when he did so. I am gratified to find that I was correct in my estimation.”
Shin blinked. “Well, I am glad you are glad.” He looked back at the others. They were arguing, albeit in hushed voices. “Enough – Enough!” he said, raising his voice. They fell silent. “It might be that I am wrong. That Shijan will simply flee. But I do not think so. So, what now?”
A throat was cleared. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what now? You brought me here to tell me that Shijan was the culprit. Why? Because you have lost control of the situation, and you wish to sever the thread that connects you to him. Perhaps you have already tried to do it yourself, and failed. Either way, you now expect me to do it for you. Very well, I will do so.”
“And what then?” someone asked.
“That depends on him. I hope to turn him over to the magistrate.”
“Unacceptable.”
Shin’s smile was hard and cold. “Now we come to it. This was always to be the bargain, wasn’t it? What do you want?”
“Shijan.”
“If you can find him, by all means take him.”
“We want your word that if you catch him, you will give him to us.”
Shin gave a bark of laughter. “I will make no such promise.”
“You have no choice,” Emiko said, softly. She tossed the candle into the air and he caught it, instinctively. There was a hiss of steel, and he froze as the edge of a blade nestled against the hollow of his throat. Emiko, head cocked, held her blade steady.
“Good catch,” she said, a slight smile on her face. “You will not leave here unless we come to an accord, Crane.”
He was glad Kasami was safely on the other side of the door. If she’d been in here with him, things would have turned very nasty, very quickly. “The same sort of accord you had with Shijan?”
“He is a fool,” the muffled voice said. “You are not. You are a clever man, and we can use clever men. Men who see the truth of the world. You are right – about all of it. We made a mistake, and compounded it through ignorance and arrogance. We shall rectify that mistake, but in our own way. Surely you understand why.”
“I do. If he talks, there is a risk he will be believed. His confession will go into a file that someone with an open mind might read some day, and decide to investigate.” Shin looked in the direction of the muffled voice. “And that would be bad for you, wouldn’t it, Master Yuzu?”
A sharp inhalation greeted his words. After a moment, Yuzu stepped forward into the candlelight. “How did you know?”
“You told me yourself, remember? You’re the one he was in debt to. Who else would be able to exert such power over him?”
Yuzu laughed. “I told you he was smart.”
“Or maybe you were just a fool,” the polished voice remarked.
Yuzu gestured irritably. “Either way, we must come to an agreement.” He looked at Shin. “I owe you my life.”
“You have a funny way of repaying debts,” Shin said. He reached up and with a finger he gently, slowly, eased Emiko’s blade away from his throat.
“You help us, we help you,” Yuzu said, clasping his hands behind his back. “Surely you see the sense in it. We want the same thing.” He smiled. “Decide quickly. If I know Shijan, you don’t have much time.”
•••
“If he is harmed, I will kill you – and then whoever is hiding in that room,” Kasami said lazily, as she stared at the door that had separated her from Shin. She tapped rhythmically at the hilts of her swords. The ronin tensed, and his hand drifted towards his own sword.
She wished he would go for his weapon. Taking out her frustrations on the ronin would have made her feel somewhat better. To her annoyance, he looked away. “You might find that more difficult than you imagine,” he said.
Kasami stared at him in silent challenge. “No. I won’t.”
The ronin frowned, still not meeting her eyes. “If we wanted you dead, you would be dead. I could have brought a dozen men to that alleyway.”
“That is not my concern. I am merely stating fact.” As she spoke, she wondered who “we” were. Not Honesty-sama, she thought. She’d dealt with enough criminals on Shin’s behalf to know that this was something different. She didn’t like it.
She didn’t like anything about any of this. A simple matter had become something sprawling and messy, thanks to Shin’s insistence on meddling.
The ronin grimaced and scratched at his neck. He was unshaven and unkempt; the sort of ronin that gave all the rest a bad name. Kasami looked around. The warehouse was small and empty, save for the detritus of more profitable times.
“What is this place?”
“One of Honesty-sama’s properties.”
Kasami raised an eyebrow. “How do you know this?”
The ronin grunted and looked away. Kasami snorted. She could hear voices inside the room. Shin was doing most of the talking, as was to be expected. She’d half expected it to be some form of ambush. That such did not seem to be the case was almost disappointing.
Again the old frustration welled up. Once again, Shin had nearly died and she had been elsewhere. Memory of the fire at the Foxfire Theater still brought a flush of shame to her face. What sort of bodyguard was she, that she could not keep one Crane out of the fox’s jaws? She frowned. Of course, it would be easier if Shin didn’t insist on crawling into said fox’s mouth at every available opportunity.
The door opened suddenly, and Shin stepped out. His face was pale – as if he were angry. He was followed by the blind woman. Without a word, Shin caught the ronin’s arm. “You work for Honesty-sama, yes?”
The ronin blinked in surprise. “What?”
“The tattoos on your neck and chest. I caught a glimpse of them. They’re similar to the ones on the man who tried to kill me.”
“Yacha,” the ronin grunted and tugged at his kimono, as if to hide the offending tattoos. “He was a fool.”
“So you knew him.”
“I know them all.”
“Good.” Shin gestured to the blind woman. “Emiko here tells me that you have some authority over the thugs Shijan has hired. That you might be able to call them off.”
“Not without good reason,” the ronin protested.
“Tashiro,” Emiko said, softly.
The ronin looked at her, and a strange look passed across his face. Kasami wondered at it, and at the way the blind woman touched his arm. Shin was too preoccupied to notice. She knew the look on his face well enough. His mind was focused on the problem at hand. The ronin – Tashiro – nodded. “I can do it, yes.”
“Good. Then you will come with us.”
“As will I,” Emiko said.
“No,” Tashiro said.
“A blind woman is more hindrance than help,” Kasami began. She heard a hiss of steel and barely interposed her own blade in time to deflect a blow that would have opened her jugular. Emiko smiled and stepped back, sheathing her blade.
“I do not need eyes to cut,” she said.
Kasami glared at her, though she could not see it. She raised her blade. “But you do need a head to live,” she growled, as she took a step forward. The blind woman frowned and stepped back, lifting her cane.
Shin stepped between them. “No.”
“Step aside. She nearly killed me.”
“We have no time for this. They have offered to help, and I have accepted that offer. That means you will leave her head attached to her neck where you found it.” Shin turned to the blind woman. “And you will keep that blade of yours sheathed until I te
ll you otherwise.”
“You do not command me, bushi…” Emiko began.
Shin spun and leaned close to her, causing her to take an involuntary step back. “For the moment, I do. That is the bargain we made. If you do not like it, take it up with your comrades back there.” He gestured to the door. “Otherwise, cease upsetting my bodyguard, or I shall let her have your head.”
Kasami looked at Shin. “We cannot trust them,” she said, but it was half-hearted. He had already made up his mind. She wondered at the nature of the bargain he’d mentioned. She wanted to ask, but now wasn’t the time.
“No. We cannot. But we must.” He started towards the doors. “We do not have time for anything else. Now come – we must make haste.”
Kasami hurried after him. “Why? What is going on?”
“Shijan is planning to attack the negotiations. Our… friends here are going to help us stop him.”
“Why?” she asked, suspiciously. “Who are they?”
“Concerned citizens,” Shin said, tersely. He stopped at the doors. “We will never make it in time if we have to walk. Not even you can run that far, that fast.”
“Horses,” Tashiro grunted.
Shin turned. “Nearby?”
Tashiro smiled tightly. “This is a Unicorn city, Crane. There are horses everywhere. You just have to know where to look.”
“You hate horses,” Kasami murmured.
“Yes.” Shin attempted a smile. “But I hate losing more.”
Chapter Thirty
Gambit
Shijan could smell smoke and hear the clangor of weapons. It did not sound as frightful as he had imagined. He took a deep breath, though he knew it was inadvisable. He felt a sense of relief that the clarity he’d gained the night before was still there. No more hesitation. No more fear. Only action.
The bodies of several servants lay against the walls, huddled in death. The survivors – including the useless pair who served Batu – had been left tied up in the kitchen, where they would undoubtedly perish, either from the smoke or the fire.
He felt a faint flicker of guilt for that. It seemed a waste of good servants. But needs must when necessity drove. Besides himself, three men stood over the still-seated representatives of the families. Though these men wore Zeshi colors, they were not servants – at least not his servants. Not really.
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