Poison River

by Josh Reynolds

He continued in that vein, but she wasn’t listening. Instead, she was looking around. Taking it all in, one last time. Her sloop wasn’t large, but it was sturdy and could survive the roughest of waters without popping a seam. Its single mast loomed high, the patched canvas of the sail rippled noisily in the breeze. It took a crew of five, but could be sailed by one if they knew what they were doing.

  She’d saved for years to purchase it, scrimping every coin. And now, here she was, captain of her own vessel, mistress of her own destiny. Or she had been, until this morning. Her hands curled into fists on the rough wood of the rail. She glanced at her bosun. “If you want to take that risk, Torun, you do it without me.”

  Torun frowned. “No, no. You’re right. Still – did you have to pay all of the crew off?”

  “Yes.”

  Torun must have heard the warning in her voice, because he quickly changed the subject. “I don’t see why we need to worry, it’s not like it was our fault.”

  “Do you think that matters to them? They’ll be looking for scapegoats.” Lun thrust a finger beneath the eyepatch that hid her left eye and scratched vigorously at the ruined socket beneath. Though the eye was long gone, she could still feel the phantom pressure of it scraping against the sides of the socket. And when a storm was in the offing, it itched abominably.

  She peered up at the cloudless sky in mild annoyance. Usually her ghost eye was as good a barometer as one could find. Only, now, it seemed to be sensing a storm where there was none. Maybe it was just nerves. She hoped so.

  She took in the shanty docks and crumbling jetties that spread out in either direction around her sloop. Willow Quay had grown up along the rim of a secluded cove on the Drowned Merchant River. The cove provided a sort of refuge from the raging current that had claimed so many vessels over the years.

  But it wasn’t the sort of place anyone with any sense stayed for long. Passing trade was the only sort allowed in Willow Quay. Despite that, the wharfs were crowded. Word had gotten out that trouble was brewing in the City of the Rich Frog. The smell of war was in the wind, and the Lion was on the prowl.

  Lun scratched her eye socket again and sighed. If she’d known the rice had been poisoned she’d never have delivered it. Better to toss it over the side and claim there’d been an accident, or that it had been stolen by pirates; something, anything, other than what they’d done. But they’d delivered it, taken their money, and there was nothing for it now.

  What she couldn’t figure was how it had been done. There’d been no sign of anything amiss when it had been loaded, or on the journey. No dead rats, no smells, nothing to warn them of what they carried. But somehow, it had been poisoned.

  “Maybe they did it themselves,” she muttered. It wouldn’t surprise her. Samurai might pretend that they were better than such things, but they could be as treacherous as any back-alley thug when they wanted to be.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” She looked at him. “Where are you headed?”

  “South, maybe. They’re always looking for sailors on the Crane coast. You?”

  “Not south.” She scratched the inside of her wrist, where the faded tattoo of a crane’s feather marked her sun-browned skin. “But first, I need to take care of the boat.”

  Torun frowned. “Are you sure about this?”

  “No, but I’m not letting anyone else have her.” She took the bottle from him and took another swig. “Go on, Torun. If the kami are kind, we’ll see each other again. If not… you were a decent bosun.”

  “And you were an adequate captain,” Torun said. He paused. “Take care of yourself, Captain.” He turned and made for the gangplank. Lun watched him go. When he was out of sight, she sighed and turned back to the river.

  She’d known better than to trust Saiga. The merchant was a duplicitous snake. If he had rice to sell, it was almost certainly stolen. She’d known, but the money had been too good. Enough to keep her crew fed and her ship’s hull patched for months. She hadn’t asked where it had come from, or why he wanted it taken to the Lion.

  She should have. She knew that now. Things were getting tense. Best to put some distance between herself and whatever came next. Let the samurai murder each other.

  But first, she had to sink her own boat. She took another swallow of shōchū, trying to fortify herself for what was next. She’d unhitch the boat from its mooring and angle it into the current. It was hard with one person, but not impossible. Once she was certain the river had hold of it, she’d swim for shore and collect her things where she’d stashed them. Keepsakes, mostly – and some money. Enough to start over. The next boat would be a smaller one in comparison, but that was enough for her.

  It would have to be.

  Her eye narrowed. She leaned forward, staring hard at her reflection below. She’d seen something, though she wasn’t sure what – a hint of movement? Moments later, a familiar sound scraped across her ears – a sword being drawn from an oiled sheath. Her hand flew to the sharkskin hilt of her own blade and she whirled, drawing the sword even as her attacker plummeted towards her from above.

  The man – or woman – was clad in gray, their face hidden behind a cloth mask. They were fast, and sure. Lun parried the first blow, but the second came more quickly. And the third, quicker still. It was all she could do to keep her footing.

  Two more gray-clad forms picked their way across the deck, hemming her in on all sides. There was no way out, save possibly over the rail. But she’d be damned if she was going to give up her ship. Not to these bastards.

  Lun bared her teeth and set her feet, sword at the ready. “Come on then. One at a time or all at once. But hurry it up.”

  They obliged her, and soon there was no more time for talk… or anything at all.

  •••

  Kasami kept one hand on her sword as the flatboat navigated the current. The gambler, Kitano, was at the pole, and seemed competent enough on the water. Shin sat nearby, idly fanning himself.

  “What do you know of Willow Quay?” he asked.

  Kasami didn’t look at him. “It is a slum.”

  “Not quite. It’s an odd sort of place – half-wild and mostly empty, save at certain times of year. A few businesses run year-round; the sake house, the brothel, one or two merchants looking to buy whatever comes their way. I’ve considered investing in a few of the businesses. With a bit of work, I think something could be made of the place.”

  Kasami snorted. “Like what? A slightly bigger slum?”

  “I’d prefer to call it a free port. Lighter tariffs, less oversight. One could make a lot of money, building that sort of place.”

  Kasami turned. “A bushi should be above such things.”

  “Technically, I am here to oversee our business interests,” Shin said. “What do you think, Kitano? A good idea?”

  The gambler didn’t turn around. “Whatever you say, my lord.”

  Kasami glared at him. As if sensing her hostility, he hunched forward. The gambler irritated her. This whole affair irritated her, but Kitano especially so. He was disrespectful and untrustworthy. If she’d had her way, he would be dead already. Heimin were untrustworthy as a rule, but men like Kitano especially so. She watched him with suspicion, waiting for him to make a mistake.

  Eventually, annoyed by his lack of provocation, she turned her attentions back to the river bank. Buildings became visible amongst the trees, and Kitano slowed the boat. “Why are you slowing down?” she snapped, half-rising to her feet.

  “Sentries,” Kitano said, quickly. “Keeping a lookout for the magistrates. Better if they get a good look at us. Otherwise they might sound the alarm.”

  “Wise thinking, Kitano,” Shin said.

  Kitano bobbed his head in acknowledgement. “Thank you, my lord.” He glanced at Kasami and then hurriedly away. Kasami growled wordlessly.

  “Something bothering you
?” Shin asked.

  “How can we trust this fool?” she muttered.

  “What does trust have to do with it?” he countered. “We are both armed, and you, at least, are perfectly willing to take his head if he so much as sneezes in my direction.” He smiled at her. “I do not have to trust him. I trust you.”

  Kasami opened her mouth to reply, but could think of no words, so she simply nodded and sat back. Willow Quay spread out around them as they slid into the cove. The wharf itself was a cluttered reef of shanty docks and makeshift jetties springing haphazardly from the curve of a natural inlet. There wasn’t much space – only a few vessels at a time could dock in the inlet. The rest had to make do with berths farther down the river.

  “Where is it?” Kasami demanded.

  “Farther down, I think,” Kitano said. “It’s a sloop.”

  “You think?”

  “That’s what I was told,” he clarified, shooting her a nervous glance.

  “By whom?” she pressed.

  “A fisherwoman of my acquaintance,” he said, after a moment’s hesitation. “She’s never steered me wrong,” he added, quickly.

  “Let us hope this is not the first time, then,” Shin said, mildly. He paused. “Does anyone else see that?”

  Kasami followed his gesture. There was a boat some distance ahead. She stood and craned her neck. “It’s heading into the current. They might be trying to leave.”

  “I think we’ve arrived just in time. Kitano, aim us towards that vessel, please.”

  “What?” Kitano goggled at Shin. “But–”

  “Now,” Kasami said. Kitano swallowed and bent to his task. Kasami looked at Shin. “You think that’s the one we’re looking for?”

  “I am not a great believer in coincidence.” Shin had an intent look on his face. “Be wary. Keep your hand on your sword.”

  Kasami nodded. “Gladly.”

  As they rounded a bend in the river, they saw it – a broken down sloop, drifting away from its dirt berth. A crowd had gathered on shore to watch. “No crew,” Kitano said. “At least, no one on deck. She’s adrift.”

  “So it seems.” Shin gestured with his fan. “Get us as close as you can. We need to get aboard, and quickly.”

  “Are you sure that’s wise?” Kasami asked, as Kitano poled them towards the drifting boat. “It might be best to let it go.”

  “It might well hold answers to my questions. And I’m curious, in any event. Aren’t you?” He looked at her, a wide grin on his face. For a moment, he looked like an excited child. She’d forgotten how much he enjoyed this sort of thing. His indolence was as much a pose as his foolishness. In truth, he craved stimulation. It was one of the things that reminded her that there was a true bushi beneath that foppish exterior.

  “Not even a little bit,” she answered, bluntly. “But since you are determined to investigate – I will go first.”

  “Oh, obviously. You are my bodyguard, after all. That is your duty.” Shin sat back. “Rest assured, I have no intention of endangering myself.”

  “I will hold you to that,” she said, as they drew close. She reached down into the bottom of the boat and retrieved a coil of mooring line. “Gambler – look here. Think you can hold this thing steady?”

  “Yes, but not for long. Why?”

  “I’m going to lasso a bollard. Preferably one of those on the side.” She stood and quickly and loosely knotted the line in several places.

  “Are you certain you can catch it?” Kitano looked as if he regretted the question, even as he asked it. Kasami grinned as she lashed the other end of the line to the flatboat’s mooring ring.

  “Do you know how many boats get lost in the marshes?” She tested the line, and nodded in satisfaction. It would hold.

  “No?” he said, doubtfully.

  “None. Because we know how to catch them. Keep us still.” She whirled the rope with a loose, slow spin, not wanting to overshoot the rail. There was an art to boarding a moving boat, and it was one she’d learned as a girl. Ideally, she’d have been attempting it without armor, but one couldn’t have everything.

  She caught a bollard on the first throw, and pulled the knot tight. The flatboat began to drift along with the larger vessel, and she and Kitano pulled them tight against the hull. It wasn’t far to the rail. “How do we get up there?” Kitano asked.

  “Give me a boost.”

  He blinked in confusion. She smacked him on the side of the head. “Bend down.” He bent with a muttered oath, which she graciously ignored. She stepped up onto his back and reached for the rail. A moment later, she caught hold and hauled herself up and over.

  She took in the deck with a glance. It was a shabby sort of boat. The kind that looked as if it might capsize in a strong wind. There was no one in sight. No sound, save the crackle of unseen flames. The boat was listing slightly. Had someone simply left it to drift?

  “Well?” Shin called up.

  Kasami hesitated. Then she turned. “Come up. But be careful.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ambush

  Shin felt uneasy as he clambered up onto the boat. It wasn’t just the constant lurching motion that made it hard to focus. It was the noise of the distant crowd, and the creak of the mast. It was as if he’d walked into a room where the occupants had suddenly gone quiet.

  “No sign of the crew,” Kasami said, as she helped him over the rail.

  “Perhaps they abandoned ship.”

  “Why would they do that?” she said, looking around.

  “We can ask them when we find them.” The rigging clattered above him, and he tensed. He didn’t care for boats at the best of times. And something about this one was making him uneasy. He looked at Kasami, and could tell from her expression that she felt the same way. “Until then, I’ll settle for examining the hold.”

  “Why? What’s the point?”

  “It’s the scene of the crime, obviously. Come along.” He started across the deck, stumbling slightly. Kasami and Kitano followed, the pair of them moving with a sure-footed steadiness that he found somewhat galling.

  “This is foolish,” Kasami said.

  “No one ever said this was going to be easy.”

  “You’re the one making it complicated.” Kasami shook her head. “None of this matters. The Lion have already made up their mind.”

  “No,” Shin said. “All appearances to the contrary, I don’t believe they have. Otherwise they would have moved against the Unicorn. But instead, they bide their time. Minami, for all her bluster, isn’t certain as to the identity of her enemy.”

  “And you believe her?”

  “Of course. She could no more lie than you could. But that doesn’t mean she won’t. Or that one of the others won’t beat her to the punch, if they sense that the Lion is wavering. I expect that, even now, all three clans are extending feelers into the city, testing the mood of the citizenry as well as Tetsua’s ronin.”

  Shin strode across the deck, towards the hatch that led into the hold. “If the governor throws in with a faction, it will all but guarantee victory for that side,” he continued. “But, proper bribery takes time and resources that they may not have – or wish to spend without knowing what they’re getting in return. If Tetsua is half as smart as I believe him to be, he will be playing them against each other, entertaining offers from each but accepting none.”

  “He’s buying us time,” Kasami said.

  “Yes. That’s all he can do at the moment. The rest is up to us.”

  “I still don’t understand why we’re here, though. What does this ship matter, when you think you already have the man behind it?”

  “I would like proof before I ruin a man’s livelihood,” Shin said. He turned. “I could accuse him, yes. Tetsua would be obliged to take my accusations as fact. Saiga would have no recourse. That is the way
the law works – my word against his, and the word of a bushi always outweighs that of a heimin.”

  “And so?”

  “And so, that is not justice.”

  “It is the law.”

  Shin shook his head. “The two are not always synonymous. I must have proof before I use the weight of my status against him. And that means we must find this Captain… Kitano, what was her name?”

  “Lun, my lord.”

  “This Captain Lun. Her testimony will be another link in the chain, and it might be that I can use it to force Saiga to talk.” Shin gestured to the hatch. It was closed. “Kitano, if you would be so kind?”

  Kitano glowered sulkily, but bent to open the hatch. Shin made to go below when he’d gotten it open, but Kasami stopped him. “Me first, remember?”

  Shin stepped back reluctantly. “Of course, after you.”

  He followed her as she descended into the hold. The sunlight streaming down through the hatch banished the gloom. It wasn’t a large space, and was fairly empty besides. Kasami stopped. “Wait. Look.”

  Shin saw the body a moment later. A woman, laying on the floor. He turned. “Kitano, get down here!” He turned back to Kasami. “Is she…?”

  “Unconscious,” Kasami said, softly. She tensed, her hand on her sword. “Get back above deck. Now.”

  Shin was about to reply when he happened to glance up. It was only luck that allowed him to see the figure crouched above him among the wooden beams in the upper reaches of the hold. He spied two more of them a moment later. “Kasami – above us!” he shouted, reaching for his wakizashi.

  The closest leapt for him, drawing a blade as he fell. Shin swept his own out, narrowly intercepting the blow. He rocked back on the steps, nearly losing his balance. The shinobi was fast – and intent on his death. It took all of his concentration to keep his opponent’s blade from piercing something vital.

  Past his attacker, he saw that the other two were busy with Kasami. They’d obviously deemed her the larger threat – a not unfair assumption. He broke away from his opponent and began to back up the steps. If he could draw his attacker out of the hold, he might be able to gain the advantage. Or at least jump over the side, if all else failed.