Poison River

by Josh Reynolds

  “Yes. They knew that Saiga would use the origin of the rice as a selling point. Thus, when the Lion discovered the sabotage, they would be quick to blame the Unicorn, seeing it for a trick. Especially when Saiga confirmed it.” He indicated the small stack of papers sitting nearby. “Saiga dealt regularly with contacts in all three clans. And, if Ito is correct, he was more than just a procurer of stolen rice – he was a spy, using his position to gather intelligence.”

  “For who? The Lion?”

  “No. For the Dragon.”

  Kasami blinked. “How do you know that?”

  “I don’t. Not for certain.” He held up the book he’d taken from Saiga’s desk. “It is a conclusion based on this cipher. I thought I recognized it that night, and Ito’s answers assured me that I was correct. It is archaic – ancient even, from a time just after the Hantei came to power. A form of code prevalent in the mountains of northern Rokugan. A man like Saiga would hardly use such a thing, unless he had good reason.”

  Kasami shook her head. “How do you know all of this?” she asked in bewilderment.

  “All my time reading wasn’t entirely wasted, it seems,” Shin said, with a shrug. “Still, it is no more than a supposition.”

  “So, the Dragon are behind it?” she asked.

  Shin frowned. “That is the question, isn’t it? Because I can see no reason that they would countenance such an act. There is nothing to be gained, given their lack of… hunh.” He stopped, thinking about what Ito had said about the customs agent, Enji.

  “What? What is it?” Kasami asked.

  “The Dragon may gain nothing from this. But, what about the Dragonfly?”

  “They do not act without the Dragon’s authority behind them,” she said.

  “Yes, but earlier you were right… what if someone acted without the consent of their superiors? What if someone saw a chance for glory – or perhaps, simply, to increase the influence of the Dragonfly in the city?” Shin hunched forward, staring at the board. “Perhaps they thought that, in the event of a clash between the clans, Tetsua would be forced to turn to them for aid – thus assuring that the Dragonfly were given pre-eminence in all future affairs of the city.”

  “Why would they think that?”

  Shin gave her a pitying look. “This is why you should learn to listen to gossip. Tetsua is close – some say to an unfortunate degree – with Tonbo Kuma.”

  “Is this your long-winded way of saying Kuma is behind it?” Kasami asked.

  “No. At least, not without more proof.” Shin relaxed. “Tetsua is… biased when it comes to the shugenja. Accusing them without solid proof would be a mistake.”

  “And how are you planning to get this proof?”

  Shin picked up a stone and bounced it on his palm. “I have no idea. But I’m sure something will occur to me before long.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  A Visitor

  Kasami prowled the edges of the moonlit garden, her eyes sweeping across the walls and doorways that separated them from the rest of the city. The house was dark, save for the lantern in Shin’s room. The servants had gone to bed, and Kitano as well.

  The gambler had claimed a spot in the kitchen, near the stove. He seemed happy enough, though she expected him to make a break for it any day now. Street curs could not be tamed, no matter how much you fed them.

  Lun was asleep as well. Despite her bravado, she was still weak from her near-miss. Kasami did not like having either of them here. Kitano had proven susceptible to bribery, and was a criminal. Lun was probably a pirate, and a target. But Shin insisted, so Kasami abided. She was not mistress here, only a companion.

  A noise caught her attention. Something – someone – had disturbed one of the gourds hanging from the trees. She turned slowly, one hand on her sword. She doubted that the shinobi would try anything here. There was a large difference between attacking an unknown heimin captain, and a member of a Great Clan. But even so, they might well be watching the house, especially given the fact that Shin hadn’t kept an especially low profile.

  She peered into the shadows of the garden, listening for the slightest hint of movement. She heard the knocking of the bamboo tubes in the garden’s fountain. Then, a rustle of grass. She drew her sword and pressed it to the neck of the man hiding behind her. “I thought you were asleep,” she said, not looking at him.

  “I heard something,” Kitano said, hesitantly.

  “Did you now? And what might you have heard, gambler?”

  “Someone talking – or maybe praying?” He stepped back as she turned. He had his hand on his knife. Perhaps he was telling the truth. “I was just about to fall asleep when I heard it and I came out to see and… and…”

  “And what?”

  “I thought I saw someone. Standing near the fountain.”

  “Who?”

  “I didn’t recognize them.” His face was pale in the light of the moon. “I swear, I don’t…” He trailed off. “What’s that?”

  Kasami turned in the direction of the fountain. She heard it now. A soft, wet rustling. Like footsteps, but there was a strange lack of weight to them. It reminded her of the patter of heavy rain. Something glistened in the moonlight between the trees. Kitano gave a strangled yelp as the intruder turned towards them.

  It had no face. Or rather, its face was a shimmering, shifting ovoid of water. A man of water, standing before them. She froze, just for an instant. She had never seen such a thing before, though she had heard of them. Every body of water had its kami, large or small. A shugenja could call them up with the proper rites, if they were of a mind to do so. But once summoned, there was no telling what the spirits might do – especially if they were provoked. She tried to remember whether they had propitiated the spirit of the fountain lately, and found her mind drawing a blank. The thing tilted the mass that passed for a head.

  “What do we do?” Kitano muttered.

  “Don’t do anything. Just… stand… still.”

  Kitano took a step back, and the grass rustled beneath his feet. The watery shape seemed to bristle. It reminded Kasami of the wind rushing across the surface of a lake. She tossed a glare at Kitano. “Idiot.”

  The watery shape took a wet step towards them. It had limbs, but no hands or feet. Rather, there were sprays of liquid that spurted and coalesced into an approximation of fingers and toes. There was a gurgling sound that might have been words – a challenge, perhaps, or an imprecation. Either way, she judged its intentions hostile.

  “Get behind me,” she said. As Kitano hastened to obey, the watery shape took another step. Then another, and another, until it was darting towards them as fast as a rolling wave crashing towards shore. Kasami lunged to meet it, and her blade smoothly bisected the shape as it made to envelop her. It splashed down around her, soaking her clothes and armor.

  Kitano yelped as the resulting puddles surged upwards almost immediately, becoming smaller copies of the shape she had just destroyed. The shapes scattered and Kasami flung out a hand to Kitano. “Rouse the servants! We have to catch them! Quick!”

  “What? Why?”

  She reached him in two strides and buffeted him about the ear. “Someone summoned them for a reason other than just scaring you, fool. Now go – quickly!”

  •••

  Shin sat in his room, strumming his biwa as he turned the problem over in his mind. From different angles, it took on new permutations. New possibilities arose and were discarded as sheerest fancy.

  On its face, the problem was simple. The poisoned rice was a tool, nothing more. Someone had put it into place in order to exacerbate the tensions between the clans. It had not been intended to harm anyone, of that he was certain. Whoever had devised the scheme had done so knowing that the rice would be discovered before it reached anyone’s bowl.

  But why play such a devilish prank? What gain was t
here to be had, save war? And if that was the desired outcome – why use such an oblique method? There were simpler means, if bloodier. He was missing something. He could feel it, just at the edge of his perceptions, but could not see it. Not yet. It would come in time, he was certain. But, by then, it might well be too late.

  He heard the stairs outside his room creak. He stilled the biwa’s strings and listened. He could hear soft rustlings, as if someone were endeavoring to be quiet. The servants had been given the evening off, and Kasami wouldn’t have bothered. His heart sped up as he waited to see what would happen.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  “Enter,” Shin said, with as much calm as he could muster.

  The door slid back, and a familiar face beamed at him. Tonbo Kuma bowed slightly, as they entered. “My apologies, my lord. I am here without invitation, but I wished to speak with you in private.”

  “And my bodyguard did not protest?”

  Kuma smiled. “She is otherwise occupied.”

  Shin kept his expression neutral. “Is she alive?”

  “Of course! What sort of person do you take me for?”

  “That is a good question,” Shin said. “Thus far, I do not have a satisfactory answer.”

  Kuma laughed softly, and Shin felt a twinge of irritation. As he had during their first meeting, he had the feeling that the shugenja was mocking him. “What did you want to speak to me about?” he asked, letting some of the annoyance he felt creep into his voice. If Kuma noticed, they gave no sign.

  The shugenja did not reply. Instead, they began to wander about his rooms, picking up objects and putting them down. It was as if they were trying to get a feel for him – Shin had done much the same himself on other occasions.

  Kuma paused beside a shelf, and pulled down a flimsy book. “The Cost of Grace,” they said, holding it up. “I was under the impression that this particular treatise was banned.”

  “Is it? I rarely pay attention to such things.”

  The shugenja smiled. “That is a lie, I think. I think there is little that escapes your attention, Daidoji Shin.”

  Shin strummed his biwa, trying to hide the growing uneasiness he felt. Why had the shugenja come? And what had happened to Kasami? “Again, I ask, to what do I owe this visit? It comes as something of a surprise. If I had known that you were coming…”

  “You would have laid out a proper welcome?” Kuma chuckled softly and set the book aside. “The fewer eyes that witness our interaction, the better.”

  “You make it sound as if we are up to something illicit.” Shin watched the shugenja as they made a slow circuit of his room.

  “Are we not?” Kuma paused at the balcony, looking out over the city. “We stand here, the fate of a city in our hands. Some might view that as a conspiracy of sorts.”

  “Then let us make it a successful one.” Shin stilled the strings of his biwa. “You want to know what I have learned.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why not ask Tetsua?”

  Kuma turned. “I have inconvenienced him enough, don’t you think?”

  “That is not for me to say.” Unable to contain his curiosity, he added, “I heard that you were engaged to be married. Is that still the case?”

  “What does that have to do with the matter at hand?”

  “Perhaps nothing. Perhaps something.” Shin set his biwa aside and rose. “Such a thing might be construed as motive.” He heard shouts from below, and the sound of running feet. Kuma’s distraction, he assumed.

  “And do you think that is the case?”

  “What I think, and what I know, are two separate things.” Shin stepped onto the balcony and looked out over the city.

  “A wise distinction.” Kuma joined him on the balcony. “Have you asked yourself why he did not summon an Emerald Magistrate to deal with this situation?”

  “Presumably because he’s hoping to handle it quietly. Or, else, because he fears that the presence of an Emerald Magistrate would invariably lead to a number of unfortunate revelations.” Shin looked pointedly at the shugenja.

  Kuma nodded without looking at him. “Tetsua is in a bad position. He is who he is because the city is divided. If one clan supersedes the others, control of the city might well be turned over to them. Tetsua would lose his position.”

  “He would find another.”

  “Would he?” Kuma smiled enigmatically. “You have strayed far from court. You do not hear the whispers.”

  “I do not listen to the whispers,” Shin said. “I am not a spymaster or a gossipmonger. I am a disappointment, and I am content.”

  “Contentment is stagnation.”

  Shin frowned. “Now you’re quoting The Cost of Grace at me. Is there a point? If so, do me the courtesy of coming to it sooner rather than later.”

  Kuma laughed throatily. “You are impatient.”

  “Forgive me, I am tired. You wished me to know that Tetsua has as much to gain – or lose – from this matter as anyone. Very well. I had already considered that angle and discarded it. If the situation served his purposes, why involve me?”

  “Because he believes that you will fail – or worse, exacerbate the situation.”

  Shin hesitated. “Even if that is the case, it is a needless complication. And Tetsua does not strike me as a man given to complications – at least, not in this area.” He saw Kuma’s cheek twitch – a barely perceptible sign that he’d scored a point. “Then, perhaps, someone else suggested it. I’m told he holds you in high esteem.”

  It was Kuma’s turn to hesitate. “And who told you this?”

  “Whispers. Just whispers.”

  “I thought you did not listen to whispers.”

  Shin shrugged. “Sometimes one cannot help what one hears.”

  “True enough. But one ought to be careful about such things.” Kuma’s gaze was steady. “A word can be as deadly as a poison, if spoken into the wrong ear.”

  “I shall keep that in mind for the future.”

  Kuma’s smile was sharp and thin. “Tetsua is not the only one to gain by this, of course. There are others. Individuals you might not have considered.”

  “You mean besides yourself?”

  “Yes. Though the city is divided into three parts, it could be divided still further – or those divisions could fall under the purview of new masters. The Crane are not the only clan with warehouses in the city. The Phoenix, too, have their wharfs, farther down the river. And the Scorpion. Even the imperial families are not exempt… it is said that Tetsua’s promotion to governor was not looked on kindly by some among the Miya.” Kuma spread their hands as if in apology. “So you see, it is not perhaps so simple a problem as you consider it.”

  “Have you been speaking to Kaeru Azuma, then?”

  Kuma frowned. “No.”

  “Ah, well. Never mind.” Then, with a hard smile, Shin said, “You have given me much to think about, my lord. Rest assured, I shall pursue every avenue of inquiry to my own satisfaction and, I hope, yours.”

  Kuma nodded. “Good. An open mind is a productive one.” They turned as if to go, but stopped, as if a sudden thought had occurred to them. “One of your people made a request to speak to a customs agent named Enji… might I inquire as to why?”

  “He may have information pertinent to my investigation.”

  “Highly doubtful.”

  “Then there is no harm in letting me speak to him.” Shin turned. “Of course, if you do not wish me to speak to him, I have little recourse. I will have to inform Tetsua of your refusal, but I’m certain he will understand.”

  Kuma gave another nod and made to leave. Shin cleared his throat. “Though, I fear the Lion and the Unicorn might not be so considerate.”

  Kuma stopped. Without turning, they said, “Is that a threat?”

  “Well – yes,” Shin sai
d. “I thought that was obvious.”

  The night air, cool with a hint of river damp, suddenly turned cold. Shin felt beads of moisture prickle on his arms and neck. Kuma’s form, half in shadow, seemed to waver as if they were underwater. Shin’s hand fell to his wakizashi.

  “I am not the sort to take threats lightly, Crane.”

  “I am not the sort to make them without good reason.” Shin stared at him. “And ask yourself this, shugenja – will it serve your cause to drown me here, on my balcony? Because if not, I would ask that you restrain yourself and cease this display.”

  Kuma made a soft exhalation – not quite a sigh – and the moisture faded from the air, and Shin’s skin, as if it had never been there at all. “Thank you,” Shin said. “Now you may show yourself out the same way you came in.”

  “You are quite the riddle, Crane,” Kuma said, as they departed. “I shall look forward to finding the answer to you.”

  Shin relaxed, releasing a shaky breath once he was sure Kuma had gone. A moment later, Kasami burst into the room. “Are you all right?” she nearly shouted. Her clothes and armor were soaking wet, and she left a trail of water behind her as she stalked into his room.

  “Yes, no thanks to you. Where were you?”

  “Chasing shadows,” she snapped. “Literally. They let me see them, but I didn’t realize why until I saw Kuma leaving through the garden.”

  “Lun?”

  “Sleeping,” Kasami said. “She can apparently sleep through anything. Kitano is rousing the servants…”

  “No. No, leave them. Kuma has delivered their message and gone. There will be no more trouble tonight, I expect.”

  “What did the shugenja want?”

  “To threaten me, I think. Or perhaps warn me. Either way, the message was the same – full of nonsense about unknown parties being involved.” Shin shook his head. “Kuma is trying to muddy the waters, but I don’t know why.”

  “Maybe they’re right,” Kasami said. “Maybe it is someone we haven’t considered.”

  “Or maybe it’s someone I’ve already dismissed. But it’s not.” Shin pinched the bridge of his nose. He was beginning to get a headache. He looked at his books, and saw with some annoyance that Kuma had rearranged them. Another message – or perhaps just idle amusement. He went to the shelves and began to put the books back into their proper places. “If Kitano is awake, let him know I have a task for him. I want him to watch the kabuki theater for me.”