Poison River

by Josh Reynolds

  Panting, she paused. She cast a look back, searching for any sign of her pursuers. But she saw nothing, save shadows and smoke. That meant little, however. They were close – she could feel them circling, waiting for her guard to slip. A sudden prickle of instinct caused her to fall back and roll down the slope, catching herself at the last moment. A trio of steel darts sprouted from the ridge of the roof moments later. She waited, every sense straining to pierce the din of the city. Only the gleam of flung metal had saved her that time.

  She heard the creak of tiles, and turned slightly. A shape slipped through the haze, approaching warily. Man or woman, she could not say. The figure wore no identifying markings, and was masked. But the blade they carried left no doubt as to their intentions. Wincing, Okuni reached into her shirt for one of the small hidden blades sheathed there. The flat leaves of steel were perfectly balanced for throwing.

  She drew one, biting back a grunt of pain. She felt the wound in her side pull as she rolled onto her back and whipped the throwing blade towards the approaching shinobi. They swatted the blade aside as they leapt towards her, and she was forced to draw one of her claws. She blocked a blow meant to split her breastbone and swept her legs around, catching her attacker in the ankles. The shinobi gave a grunt of surprise and tumbled from the edge of the roof. Okuni didn’t wait to see if they managed to save themselves.

  She scrambled up the slope, heading for the far edge of the roof. This part of the city nestled close against the water. Many of the buildings extended out over the river. That was why she’d come this way in the first place. After last time, she’d known she might have to take to the water again, and had thought to wear waterproof wrappings beneath her clothing.

  The tiles creaked behind her, and she dove to the side, avoiding a slashing blade. Its wielder chuckled. “Still quick. Very good.” The voice was hatefully familiar.

  “Chobei,” Okuni said, as the shinobi padded towards her across the tiles of the roof. He nodded and smiled.

  “You remember me. I am pleased.”

  “You made quite the impression.”

  “And you are quite the fool,” he said, pointing his sword at her. “I thought you’d escaped for good. Even told my employer as much – what shinobi would be so foolish to hang around after knowing they were marked? But there you were.” He shook his head. “And here you are. Nowhere left to run.”

  “You call me a fool,” Okuni said. “A good shinobi knows that there is always somewhere left to run. Even if it doesn’t look that way.”

  “Not this time. This is our city. We have you, and we will make your end quick.” He gestured, and she saw two more shinobi appear on nearby rooftops. “Not out of respect, this time, but out of practicality. We have no time left for you. Others require our attentions.”

  Okuni looked around. She could hear the others approaching. She had to keep him talking until she could see an opening to get past them. “Like Saiga, you mean.” She was just grabbing at straws – it was just as likely that Saiga had hired them himself.

  Chobei smiled gently. “No. Not him. He is no longer a concern.”

  She felt a thrill of unease. “Then who? His partner? No. You are protecting him, aren’t you?” She began to back away along the edge of the roof. She could hear the river close by. “Why?”

  “Asking questions will not keep you alive,” Chobei said, not unkindly.

  “No, but jumping off the roof might.”

  Okuni turned and leapt. As she’d hoped – prayed – the water was directly below. She’d folded her arms over her chest and cut the water smoothly as she went in. The shock and cold nearly knocked her senseless, despite her preparations.

  She began to swim. A veritable canopy of wharfs and jetties extended overhead, hiding her from sight. But she knew Chobei would be on her heels in moments. He was smart and deadly. She had to get back to the theater, and quickly. Sanemon and the others had to make ready to leave immediately.

  Before Chobei caught up with her for a third time.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Saiga

  The soft red glow of lanterns lit the path back to Three Finger Street. The Unicorn wharfs were quiet, save for the slap of water and the murmur of night fishermen. The teahouses and sake houses were full, but there was little noise.

  “Everyone is scared,” Kitano said, when Shin mentioned it. The gambler looked scared himself. “The Lion is mustering their strength, and most people are trying to find ways out of the city. Or preparing for trouble.”

  “And what about you, Kitano?” Shin asked. He had noticed an increased number of Kaeru ronin on the streets, leading patrols of ashigaru in imperial livery. Tetsua was taking no chances, it seemed.

  “I’m with you now, my lord.” Kitano didn’t look at him as he spoke.

  “A gamble on your part.”

  “A sure thing,” Kitano said. He scratched his chin. “Seems to me you’re the one who’s going to come out on top, my lord. Whatever happens.”

  “Your confidence is appreciated, Kitano. Tell me, what do you know of our friend, Saiga?” Shin was curious to see if Kitano’s information differed from Ito’s. He might well know more than the merchant, or at least something different. He was assembling a picture of Saiga, and it was a curious one – it did not seem to fit the facts.

  “He deals in stolen goods. Food mostly. It’s easier to steal in bulk and sell for a profit. I’ve done it myself.”

  “You’ve worked for him?” Shin asked. He wasn’t surprised. Kitano struck him as the sort of man to have many friends in low places.

  “Once or twice. He paid well, and on time.”

  Kasami snorted. “Yes, with someone else’s money.”

  Kitano shrugged. “He might also be a spy.”

  Shin paused. “A spy?”

  “You can’t throw a rock in a teahouse without hitting one. Everyone wants to know what’s coming in and where it’s going. Lot of money to be made if you can get that kind of information.”

  Disturbing as the thought was, Shin found it unsurprising. Where there was trade, there was information, and where there was information, there were invariably those who would try and profit from it. “Who was Saiga working for?”

  Kitano shook his head. “I don’t know, my lord, and that’s the truth. There were rumors, of course. I heard that he worked for the Scorpion, myself.”

  Shin snorted. “If every person said to work for the Scorpion did so, half of Rokugan would be employed by them.”

  “I’m sorry, my lord, but I wouldn’t know,” Kitano said. He sounded almost sincere.

  “No, I don’t expect that you would.” Shin tapped his lips with his fan, thinking. “Still, perhaps there is something in what you say. It’s clear that Saiga has protection. Someone is looking out for him.” He stopped, recognizing the front of the teahouse Ito had brought them to. “I’ll add it to the list of questions I have for him. Kitano, wait here – keep watch on the street. If you see something…”

  “Take care of it,” Kitano said, tapping the hilt of his knife.

  “Finally, you say something sensible,” Kasami said, nodding in approval.

  Shin shook his head. “No. Alert us, if possible. Remain out of sight otherwise.”

  “No worries on that score, my lord.”

  Shin nodded and started towards the teahouse, Kasami by his side. “I doubt he’s here when we get back,” she murmured.

  “Is that a wager?”

  “No.”

  “Pity. I would have given you good odds.”

  At this time of night, there was only a handful of patrons in the teahouse when Shin and Kasami arrived. At the sight of Kasami in her armor, that number dwindled still further. Even the staff seemed to have better things to do than to interfere with them. Kasami watched them vanish and snorted. “What if he’s not here?”

&nb
sp; “Then we take the opportunity for a quick look around. Either way, I have no doubt we will find something of interest.” Shin made his way to the back. The boards creaked beneath his feet. There was a light on in Saiga’s office. Shin tapped his lips, and Kasami nodded. When no one called out, Shin carefully slid the door open.

  Kasami gave a guttural curse as she saw what awaited them.

  Shin nodded. “As I feared.”

  Saiga was dead. He lay folded over on his cushion, hands flung out to either side of him, his head resting on the low writing desk before him. Shin went to him and knelt, palm held just above the bowed head. He noticed a faint, purplish mark on the back of the man’s neck, resembling a burn – but it was anything but. Kasami hissed in disgust as he made to examine it more closely. “Do not touch him. What are you thinking?”

  “That he’s quite cold, and it’s a warm night.” Shin rose. He looked up, stared at the ceiling for a moment and then pointed. “There. The thatch has been disturbed.”

  “So? What of it?”

  “Give me a boost,” he said, gesturing to the floor. Kasami stared at him.

  “I will not.”

  He motioned to the roof. “I need to get up there.”

  “Why?”

  He pointed to the body. “Because whoever killed him did so from up there.”

  “How do you know?”

  Shin pointed upwards again. “Weren’t you listening? The thatch has been disturbed. And, of course, the mark on his neck.”

  “A burn,” she said, doubtfully.

  “What sort of burn turns the surrounding flesh purple?”

  Kasami had no answer for him. “I am still not giving you a boost. Is it poison, then?”

  “Yes. A very peculiar sort, derived from a species of scorpion native to al-Zawira. Quite lethal, in a concentrated dose.” He leaned over the body, peering at the wound. “I suspect that it was delivered by a sharpened steel wire thrust through the thatch, and into his neck. A prick would have been all it took.” He rubbed the back of his own neck. “He probably didn’t even notice until his heart stopped.” His skin prickled as he considered the ceiling. There might well be more wires waiting. “They would have had to have been fast and quiet.”

  Kasami dropped a hand to the hilt of her katana. “The same ones we encountered at Willow Quay,” she said, softly, as she loosened her blade in its sheath.

  “Possibly. The same brotherhood at least.”

  “They might still be here.”

  “Doubtful.” Shin began to rummage through the scattered papers. “As I said, he’s quite cold. And somewhat stiff. That means several hours, at least. They probably killed him before they went after Lun. Following the chain, one link at a time.”

  “Does that include your actress?”

  Shin paused. “Yes, almost certainly. Though I suspect she’s managed to avoid Saiga’s fate. In fact, I expect that their failure to kill her is what led to this – as well as the attempt on our guest. I – ah. Look here.” He showed her a handful of papers. Kasami stared at them blankly. Seeing her expression, he sighed. “Receipts of transaction. I’ve signed hundreds of these for Ito and the others.”

  “And that’s important why?”

  “Saiga dealt in stolen cargo. He would have used these receipts to prove legal ownership, if anyone had asked. I wonder how he got them.”

  “Clearly they’re forged.”

  “Maybe. Or stolen. But it leads me to wonder what else he might have.” He fell onto all fours and peered at the desk from a low angle. Kasami sighed, no doubt glad that no one was around to see him in so undignified a position.

  “My grandfather has a desk like this,” Shin continued. “Curious little things. I wonder – ah. There we are.” He reached out and touched one of the carved flowers that decorated the sides and back of the desk. There was a soft click, and a drawer in the bottom of the desk fell open.

  Kasami gave a grunt of surprise. “What is that?”

  “A hidden drawer, obviously.” Shin retrieved something and stood. “Sloppy. They didn’t think to check. Maybe they weren’t told to do so, or didn’t have time. In any event, their mistake is our gain.” Shin held up what turned out to be a small book. “Look at this. Recognize it?”

  “Should I?” Kasami shook her head. “What is it? More receipts?”

  “Of a sort. Ito has one of these as well, a patronage book.” He flipped it open and scanned the contents. “Saiga was paying someone a percentage of his profits in return for various things – protection, contracts, information.” He looked at her. “He wasn’t just a merchant – he was a clan vassal.” He frowned and turned more pages. “No sign of who his patron might have been, though. Usually these are stamped…”

  “If he had a patron, then why is he working out of a place like this?”

  “I imagine it served his interests not to be too closely associated with them. And theirs, as well. Not all merchants deal in silk and rice.”

  “The black market,” Kasami said.

  Shin nodded and peered at the book. “Precisely. We’re not supposed to acknowledge that such a thing could ever exist, of course. But even the Daidoji make use of it. There are some things it is better to purchase – or sell – in secret. Saiga must have been someone’s conduit – and it’s likely that someone employed him to hire Lun and Okuni both.” He flipped the pages. “It’s written in some form of cipher. I can decrypt it, but it will take time.” He thrust the book into his kimono, along with the other documents. “We should depart.”

  “What about the body?”

  Shin paused. “Leave it be. No sense alerting our opponents as to our discovery. It will be discovered in time, and we have more important matters to attend to.”

  “I hope that includes explaining this to me,” Iuchi Shichiro said from behind them.

  Kasami turned, sword half-drawn. Shichiro stood in the doorway, and the bushi who flanked him had their blades out and ready. Shin took them both in at a glance. Young. Untested. Eager. But skilled. “Kasami?” he asked, softly.

  She shook her head. “I can kill one. Probably not both.”

  Shichiro glanced at his men and smiled. “You heard her. Which of you will it be?” The two warriors looked at one another uneasily, as if uncertain how best to answer.

  Shin stepped forward. “Might I humbly suggest that no one has to die at this particular moment – except for the unfortunate Saiga, of course.” He indicated the body.

  Shichiro chuckled and waved his warriors back. “Leave us. Make sure no one enters this room.” The men hesitated. One opened his mouth to speak, but Shichiro silenced him with a glance. “Go.”

  They went. Kasami let her sword slide back into its sheath. Shichiro gave her a respectful nod, and she bowed her head in thanks.

  Shin watched the interaction with interest. Shichiro might be old, but his authority was unquestionable. He wondered if his sons shared their father’s forcefulness. If not, it would be a sad day for the Unicorn when Shichiro took his final ride.

  “We have your man outside,” Shichiro said.

  “You haven’t hurt him, I trust,” Shin said. He’d expected as much, when Kitano failed to alert them. “I only just paid his retainer.”

  “He is fine. Whether he stays that way is up to him.” Shichiro ambled into the room. “I am not surprised to find you here, little Crane. I heard on the wind that you might have found that boat of yours – down in Willow Quay.”

  Shin bowed his head. “And I am not surprised that you heard such a thing.”

  “Is it true?”

  “It is.”

  “And the crew?”

  “Nowhere to be found.”

  Shichiro grunted and stooped to look at the body. “And why are you here?”

  “Saiga procured the rice that was sold to the Lion. He commissio
ned the delivery.”

  “And where did he procure it from?”

  “Your docks.”

  “Then the mystery is solved,” Shichiro said. “Saiga was not one of ours, but I knew of him. He made most of his coin selling stolen cargoes. A bad business, but…”

  “Not one you felt like wasting time on.”

  Shichiro nodded. “You know as well as I that the moment I squashed him, two more would rise up to take his place. Better to have him where I could keep an eye on him, I thought. We even used him on occasion, though I doubt he knew it. He has – had – connections among the local bandit gangs, and was forever looking for information on manifests and the like. At least according to my own spies.” He looked at them. “I’d wager he was killed by a dissatisfied client. Men like him never last long.”

  “I had much the same theory,” Shin said.

  Kasami barely stopped herself from giving Shin a sharp look. She knew why he was lying, but it was not the proper way of things. Shin ignored her; something he was altogether too skilled at.

  Shichiro rose to his feet. “I thought you might.” The old man was silent for a moment. “Is that what you will tell Tetsua?”

  “I will leave Tetsua to make his own decisions. My task is simply to find the truth. What he does with it is his burden, not mine.”

  Shichiro nodded. “That is good.” He paused. “I am told the Lion came prowling about your home earlier today. What were they looking for?”

  “Is this something else the wind whispered to you?”

  Shichiro smiled. “If you like.” His smile faded. “Answer the question, boy. What did they want?”

  “Information.”

  “Did you give it to them?”

  “Of course.”

  Shichiro frowned. “Why?”

  “Because there was no profit in denying it to them,” Shin said. “They do not want a war any more than you do.”

  “So you say. But their actions tell a different story.” Shichiro looked down at the merchant’s body. “They attacked one of my vessels today.”

  Shin let no sign of his sudden dismay show on his face. That was bad. If things had progressed to that point, then open conflict wasn’t far off. Once the Lion had a taste of blood, they wouldn’t rest until they’d eaten their fill. “Was anyone killed?”