The shinobi followed him without hesitation, eyes narrowed. As Shin retreated, he studied his opponent, trying to identify some weakness in the man’s form that he might be able to exploit. But nothing presented itself. The shinobi was clad in loose-fitting gray clothing, and his head was hidden within a peaked cowl, with only a thin slit for his eyes. He bore no identifying markings, not that Shin had expected any.
“I don’t suppose you’d be willing to tell me who hired you?” Shin asked, hopefully. “No? Shame. Still, that this is a bad idea can’t have escaped your notice. Killing me won’t stop the investigation; in fact, it will only validate it.”
The shinobi made no reply. He simply paced after Shin, one step at a time. Patient and wary. A trained killer, ready to seize the smallest opening. Shin kept his wakizashi between them. He had been trained by some of the finest swordsmen in Rokugan, but he’d rarely held a blade – especially this blade.
He tightened his grip on the hilt. His grandfather had claimed it was a gift but, in truth, it was meant as a reminder to Shin of his familial obligations. The Daidoji were the iron in the blade. Impurities were to be beaten out, as the fire grew hot. Impurities like Shin.
This city – this moment – was the fire. His exile here was to be a tempering, or so his grandfather intended. But Shin had his own ideas – and those ideas did not include being gutted like a fish. As his foot touched the top stair, he began to speed up, forcing the shinobi to move more quickly. He could hear the roaring cascade of the Drowned Merchant River. Soon, the boat would be fully caught by the current.
“No way off, then,” he said out loud. “What will you do, I wonder?”
The shinobi hesitated, just for a fraction of an instant – and that was when Shin spied Kitano crouched behind a nearby barrel. The gambler had his knife in his good hand and, as he caught Shin’s eye, he rose and sent the blade spinning towards the shinobi.
It bounced off the killer’s temple, staggering him. Instinctively, the shinobi whirled, cursing, his short blade whipping out in a savage arc. Kitano threw himself backwards, narrowly avoiding a messy death.
The shinobi realized his mistake as Shin lunged. His wakizashi flashed down, biting into the meat of the shinobi’s shoulder, close to his neck. The man gave a strangled groan and twisted away, even as Shin withdrew the blade. He fell, crimson pumping from the wound. Shin flicked blood from his blade.
He leaned forward and used the tip to pull the shinobi’s mask off. He studied the man’s face for a moment, wondering if he’d perhaps encountered him before, then looked at Kitano. “Well played, Kitano. You continue to prove your usefulness.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Kitano said, somewhat hesitantly. He stared down at the dying man, his expression unreadable. Both he and Shin turned towards the hold as a shout echoed up. A figure in gray raced onto the deck and paused at the hatch. One of the remaining shinobi – a woman, Shin thought. She hesitated, her gaze flicking from her dying companion, to Shin. Then, without a word, she darted for the rail.
Startled, Shin was slow off the mark pursuing her. By the time he reached the rail, she was gone, lost to the waters below. He turned as Kasami came onto the deck, her sword dripping blood. “Where is she?” she demanded.
Shin indicated the water. “She chose the better part of valor,” he said. He didn’t ask about the other one. The look on Kasami’s face said it all. “I trust the captain is still breathing?”
“As far as I can tell,” Kasami said. She looked at Kitano. “And where were you?”
“Providing a timely distraction,” Shin interjected. He sheathed his sword. “We need to get her off this boat. Kitano…” Shin paused. Kitano was still staring at the dead man. “What is it?”
“I- I know him.”
“How?”
“He is – he was a fisherman.” Kitano swallowed. “Why is he here?”
“Why do you think?” Kasami said. “It was an ambush. They were trying to kill us.” She stared at Kitano. “The only question is – how did they know we were going to be here?”
“I- I didn’t know, I swear,” the gambler began. He made to get to his feet, but Kasami pounced on him. She kicked him onto his back and pinned him to the deck with her foot before Shin could speak.
“Kasami…” he began.
“He’s lying,” she hissed, holding her blade to the trembling man’s throat. “He knew they were there. He led us into a trap.” It was not the Daidoji way to let traitors live. Treachery had only one reward, and it was not gold but steel. Sweat rolled down the gambler’s rough features, and he swallowed.
“I don’t believe so,” Shin said. Kasami shook her head and tilted the blade so that the edge rested against Kitano’s jugular. She let the tip of her blade drift, lightly scoring his flesh. One flick of her wrist, and his neck would be opened to the bone. The gambler closed his eyes, whimpering slightly.
“I didn’t…” he began.
“Kitano, be quiet. Kasami, stop threatening him and think – there are easier ways to sink a boat. They could have simply drilled the hull and let it take on water. They set it adrift in order to ensure that we would come aboard – to prick our curiosity. My curiosity,” he amended. “They set a trap, yes, but why would Kitano walk into it?”
Kasami paused. “He didn’t come willingly.”
“But he didn’t resist, either.” Shin looked down at Kitano. “This fisherman… was he one of the ones you spoke to about Lun?”
“Y- yes,” Kitano said, nodding convulsively.
Shin looked down at him, his gaze serene. He stooped and retrieved Kitano’s knife. He weighed it and then sent it into the deck between Kitano’s legs, blade-first. It quivered, and Kitano quivered with it. Shin smiled.
A moment later, he dropped the rest of the gambler’s payment onto the deck. Kitano cracked an eye, and looked at the coins. Then looked up. “What…?”
Kasami echoed him, with considerably more invective. “What?”
Shin ignored her. “You are mine now, Kitano. Consider those your wages.”
Kitano stared at him in incomprehension. “What?” he said again.
“What?” Kasami echoed. She looked at Shin, but he did not meet her gaze.
“Let him up.”
Kasami stepped back, the blade still pressed against Kitano’s throat, forcing him to rise. “Are you certain?” she asked.
“Yes. He could have fled, and left us to it. Instead, he threw in his lot with us. That buys him a bit of grace.”
She frowned. “Grace? He’s a thief, and a fool.”
“Yes. I didn’t say it bought him much.”
“It shouldn’t buy him anything.”
“No. But mercy can be as keen a cut as any.” Shin spoke softly, but firmly. The voice of the Daidoji. Kasami sighed and stepped back, sheathing her katana.
“Fine. But if he bites our hand he’s getting a dog’s death.”
Shin glanced at the gambler. “Good, now that that’s settled, we should retrieve our unconscious captain and see about getting this boat back to its berth – Kitano? You were a sailor, yes?”
“Yes,” Kitano said, pushing himself to his feet.
“Good. I trust you know how to handle… this sort of thing?” Shin flapped a hand at the sails. “Get us back to shore or something.”
“I’ll need help, my lord.”
Shin looked at Kasami. She rolled her eyes, but nodded. Shin smiled in satisfaction and clasped his hands behind his back. “Excellent. Carry on. And do be quick. I want to be back on dry land before the day is out. I have questions in need of answers.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Lun
“Are you still alive, Captain?”
Lun cracked her good eye. Her first impression was of a mane of white hair, and a smile that could melt ice. Then she focused on the face – narrow and prett
y, in the way some men were. A face that had never been on the wrong end of a boat hook.
“Am I?” she croaked. She tried to sit up, groaned and fell back. “I hurt too much to be dead, so I must be.” Her head swam as she tried to focus. “Feels like my skull is cracked.” Her hands were bandaged, as was her midsection. The wounds weren’t deep, barely more than scratches, but they hurt nonetheless.
“An astute observation. It very nearly was. Lucky for you, they were in a hurry. As it is, I suspect it will be a few days before you feel up to doing more than sitting very still.”
She looked at the man more closely, took in the style and hue of his kimono, and her surroundings. There was a woman standing behind him, frowning, clad in armor. Samurai. Her heart seized and her eye flicked away, looking for a way out.
“You are quite safe,” the man said. His voice was calm, soothing. She didn’t trust it.
“I don’t think so,” she said.
The woman gave a sharp bark of laughter. “She’s smarter than she looks.”
Lun bared her teeth. The woman replied in kind. They studied one another for a moment, until the man cleared his throat. “My name is Daidoji Shin. This is Kasami. You are called Lun, I believe. Is that correct?”
Lun nodded slowly, not taking her eye off the other woman. Shin smiled in a friendly fashion. “Excellent, then we have saved the right woman.”
“Saved me?” Lun blinked. She remembered the shinobi and rubbed her face to hide her sudden flinch. She’d thought she was dead for certain. “What happened?”
“I was rather hoping you might tell us,” Shin said. He caught her wrist, turning it so that he could see her tattoo. “You were in service to the Crane,” he said, softly.
“Once.” She pulled her wrist back. “I’m my own woman now.”
“And so you shall remain.” He smoothed his kimono, looking suddenly boyish.
She frowned. “What about the ones who attacked me?”
“Dead,” Kasami said. “Save one. They used you as bait.”
Lun looked at her. “And you fell for it.”
They stared at each other for a moment, until the hint of a smile showed at the corners of Kasami’s mouth. She turned away. “I’ll check the garden. Just in case we were followed.”
Shin waited until she’d left and said, “I am sorry. If we’d gotten there sooner, we might have been able to prevent this.” He paused. “We did manage to salvage your boat, however. Though, no sign of your crew…”
“My boat?” Lun frowned. She wasn’t sure whether to be happy about that – or disappointed. “Wonderful.” She hesitated. “And the crew are fine. I sent them packing.”
“Oh? Why?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes. It implies that you knew something like this might happen.” He peered down at her. “Did you, Captain?”
Lun swallowed. “If I did?”
“Then I would very much like to know about it. Not least because I was almost killed today saving your life. A few answers aren’t too much to ask, I think.”
Lun looked away. Her eyes flicked to the tattoo, then around to the room. It was a simple enough sort of space, but prettily decorated in blues and whites. The Crane did everything prettily. As if he could sense her hesitation, he said, “If you fear repercussions, I can offer my protection.”
Lun closed her eye. “You saved me, my lord,” she said, slowly. “I owe you what’s left of my life, I suppose. Better to owe a Crane. I know what your sort is capable of, at least.” She knew her tone verged on the disrespectful, but she didn’t care.
Apparently, neither did he. “Excellent. Why were they trying to sink your boat?”
“Were they?” She blinked. If she’d known that, she might have simply let them. But she didn’t say it. “Is that why they snuck aboard?”
“I assume so, given that you were adrift in the river’s current. Those waters have smashed sturdier vessels, I’m told.”
Lun laughed in realization. “That wasn’t their doing, my lord. It was mine. I managed to cut the mooring lines before they booted me down into the hold.”
Shin paused, digesting this. “Why? Were you trying to escape?”
“Something like that.” Lun could see from his expression that he didn’t believe her.
“Would the reason have anything to do with why you sent your crew away?”
She fell silent. Part of her – the part that had served onboard a Crane vessel – wanted to tell him. It was a hard thing to shake, that obedience. It was bred into people. But Lun had been her own master for too long to snap to now.
He waited patiently, in no hurry for her reply. One of the worst things about his kind was the way they made other people feel as if time was running out. Finally, she could stand it no more. “Maybe,” she said.
He nodded, as if he’d expected that. “And would those two facts be related to a recent shipment of yours?”
“The rice,” Lun said, before she could stop herself.
Shin nodded. “Yes. I thought as much. You seem a clever woman, Captain. Once you heard the news, I’m sure you extrapolated the possible consequences with remarkable speed. Is that why you sought refuge in Willow Quay?”
“It was only temporary,” Lun said, rubbing her face. “Just until I could pay off the crew and make other arrangements.”
“How noble,” he said. The worst part was he sounded as if he meant it. She would have preferred an insult. Sincerity was almost too much to bear, coming from one of his kind. She shifted uncomfortably, suddenly overcome with anger. “It is probably the only thing that saved their lives. If not your attackers, then the Lion almost certainly would have caught you – and you would be dead, rather than simply injured.”
“I knew it,” she growled. “I knew I shouldn’t have taken that bastard’s money. I knew it would come back to bite me.” She pounded her fist into her palm and then winced in pain. Superficial cuts hurt just as badly as the more lethal sort.
“Which bastard might that be?” Shin asked, intently.
Lun frowned and scrubbed at her cheeks with the heels of her palms. “It was a private commission. A merchant looking to offload some rice on the Lion. Their merchants pay well for anything that they can trade for iron and stone.”
Shin nodded. “What was this merchant’s name?” The way he said it implied he already knew. Lun hesitated, weighing her loyalty to Saiga against her anger.
“Saiga,” she said, finally. “Word got around he was looking for a fast ship and a captain who wouldn’t ask many questions.”
Shin raised an eyebrow. “Is that the usual way?”
“For us,” Lun said. “Maybe not for you.” She paused. “He works out of a cheap teahouse on Three Finger Street, near the Unicorn docks.”
“I am aware. How much do you know about him?”
Lun frowned. “His money was good. That’s all I need to know.” She sat back. “He set me up, didn’t he?”
“Yes. The question is, did he know he was doing so?”
“He did,” she said, flatly.
“How can you be sure?”
“Because it’s Saiga. And Saiga always knows what he’s getting into. He’s too canny a bastard not to know. And, I’ll tell you what else – he sent those killers after me.”
Shin was silent for a moment. “Would you swear to that, before a magistrate?”
Lun hesitated. “In court?”
“Yes.”
“Why? You obviously think he’s up to something. Handle it yourself… my lord. The way bushi handle things.”
“That is not the way I prefer to do things, Captain. Expedience is not justice.”
Lun stared at him. “Are you mad?” she said, after a pause.
“I often have the same question,” Kasami said as she came back in. “The garden is clear
. No sign anyone followed us.”
“Kitano?”
“Downstairs, trying to make tea. I thought it best to keep him out of the way for the moment, until we figure out what to do with him.” She paused. “He’s terrible at it, by the way. I don’t think he’s ever even drunk anything that wasn’t fermented.”
“One can’t have everything.” Shin looked at Lun. “It seems I need to speak to Saiga again. Sooner rather than later.”
“Yes. I’ll go with you. I want to look that treacherous bastard in the face…” She nearly fell over as she tried to stand. Shin gently forced her back. She resisted the urge to punch him. It might seem ungrateful.
“No need.” Shin rose. “You will stay here and rest. No one knows you are here, or that you survived – save perhaps that shinobi who escaped. Nor will they, until I decide it is safe for you to miraculously return to life.”
Lun opened her mouth. Closed it. A part of her, the part that recognized the tone of command in his words, wanted to argue. To shout that she was no longer a Crane vassal. But a wiser part told her that she needed rest – and where better than here? Who would think to look for her here, after all? But there was one thing she had to know.
“Why?” Lun said.
Shin hesitated. “Why what?”
“Why are you helping me?”
“Why would I not?” Shin turned away. “Besides, you are helping me as well – and one good turn deserves another. Rest, Captain. You’ll be back aboard a ship before you know it, and this will all just be a bad memory.”
Lun settled back as they departed. “What’s one more?” she murmured.
•••
Okuni ran. Ordinarily, she might have slipped across the rooftops of the city like a shadow. But it was harder when one was injured. As Nao had predicted, her wound was threatening to reopen. She stumbled at the apex of a roof, and the streets swam about her in a blur of lantern light. For a moment, she thought she was falling – but her training saved her, and not for the first time that evening.
Poison River Page 20
