Again, no reply. Shin had not expected one. “I wondered how he might have done so. A simple theft would have surely been reported. Someone must have given them to him. And since they bore your cipher, you were the obvious culprit. I then wondered why you might have done so. Blackmail was my first thought.”
Enji looked up. “Yes. Yes, he blackmailed me. That is what happened.”
Shin held up a warning finger. “That is your third and final lie. Unless you intend to speak the truth, remain silent.” He took a sip of tea. “I have it on good authority that he did not blackmail you. Rather, it was you who involved him.”
“And why would I have done that? How would I know such a man?”
“Because you were both loyal to the same masters – albeit at a substantial remove. Saiga was a spy, but not a mercenary – he was a vassal of the Dragon. And a loyal one, by all accounts. It took some effort, but I uncovered much of what he’d been up to of late – Saiga was well-placed to observe, and perhaps even control, the city’s criminal element. Indeed, I believe that was his main function… rather than wait for such a figure to spring up, someone invented one. As to why, I can but guess – perhaps controlling the underworld keeps the city stable in some way. I suspect it has something to do with those curious shrines your kinsman stands sentinel over. In any event, it no longer matters. What does matter is that Saiga was loyal, and you played on that loyalty.”
Enji hunched into himself, as if trying to shrink out of sight. Shin continued, remorselessly. “Like you, he might have felt unappreciated – unseen. Possibly you used that to rope him into your scheme. Whatever occurred between you, you managed to concoct a plan you hoped would throw the Dragon’s rivals into open war.”
Enji bowed his head and didn’t reply. Shin was silent for a moment, and then pressed on. “And it might well have worked, if cooler heads hadn’t prevailed. Tell me – what did you think would happen? Did you believe that Tetsua would stand idly by while his city tore itself apart?”
Enji’s hands clenched. “Kuma…” he began, and then fell silent.
“Kuma. Of course. You thought Kuma’s relationship with Tetsua would serve to hold the imperial authorities at bay while the Lion and the Unicorn savaged each other. Or maybe, even, that Tetsua would declare for the Dragon, and hand the city over to the Dragonfly in order to bring the chaos to an end.”
“Is that so wrong?” Enji said, suddenly. He looked up. “The city is ours by right. It is our duty to guard this place. Our responsibility… ours…” He trailed off. “You don’t understand. Even Saiga didn’t understand.”
“Then why did he help you?”
“Glory. He thought we would be rewarded for our efforts.”
“And wouldn’t you have been?”
Enji shook his head. “It was never about that. Not for me. I saw an opportunity – and I seized it. A chance to right an old wrong. If all had gone well, no one would even have known we were involved.” His expression turned plaintive. “It would have been for the best. There’s so much at stake…”
Shin leaned forward. “What is at stake? What do you know of it?”
Enji fell silent. Shin resisted the urge to give him a violent shake. Instead, he refilled his cup and waited. Now that he had been discovered, Enji wanted to unburden himself. Finally, Enji said, “I know only what Saiga told me.”
“And what did he tell you?”
“This city, this place, it is important. Too important to leave in unworthy hands. And I believed him.”
“Because you wanted to,” Shin said, setting his cup down. “And together, you tried to start a war. Now he and many others are dead.”
“I am not responsible for any of that!”
“Then who is?” Shin pinned him in place with a glare. “Who is trying to clean up your mess, Tonbo Enji?” He already knew the answer, but he wanted spoken confirmation. One beyond reproach. Proof – something he could take to Tetsua, or, at the very least, use to bargain with. “You’d best tell me quickly, else they might well come after you next.”
Almost as if to prove his point, there was a soft thump from the hall. Shin held up a hand, silencing Enji. He stood. “Kasami?”
Silence.
Then the door slid open and a figure in gray stepped through. “Ah,” Shin said. “I wondered if they might send you. A desperate gamble on their part.”
“A sign of the matter’s importance, my lord,” the one-eyed shinobi said. “Will you stand aside this time? I humbly request that you give it a moment’s consideration, at least.”
Shin stood, putting himself between the newcomer and Enji. “Get up,” he said, as he drew his wakizashi. Enji gawped for a moment, and then hurriedly stood. “When you see an opening, I want you to run. Don’t stop. Don’t look back. Just run.”
“What – what is this?”
“They are here to kill you,” Shin said.
The one-eyed man shrugged. “Him and anyone who tries to stop us. That includes you, my lord. One last time – will you step aside?”
Shin sighed. It wasn’t quite the answer he had hoped for, but it was enough to convince Enji, who made a sound that might have been a moan low in his throat. “No, I’m afraid that I can’t let you do that. I need him in one piece, you see.”
Shin raised his sword. The one-eyed man was armed with a kodachi, and was likely quite skillful in its use. He wondered what had happened to Kasami and the others, but only for a moment – he could hear the ring of steel and knew she was otherwise occupied. There would be time to worry later, if he survived the next few moments.
“You came in force,” he said, trying to buy a bit more time.
“It has been said that a samurai’s home is his castle,” the shinobi said. “I thought it best to bring an army.” He looked around. “Where is she? I know you brought her here afterwards.”
“Who?”
The shinobi’s good eye narrowed. “It doesn’t matter I suppose. So long as she is gone, our employer will be pleased. And if not, we will find her and kill her. But first…” The one-eyed man darted forward, kodachi held low.
As he did so, Shin heard Enji shout, and narrowly avoided a blow that might have split his skull. A second killer – the woman from the alleyway, he thought – had entered the room from the other door, and had used his distraction to creep close. Shin spun back, parrying the one-eyed man’s thrust.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Enji run for the door. The two shinobi were more concerned with Shin than with the escaping customs agent. Perhaps they had people waiting. Regardless, he couldn’t worry about it now. Not when the trap was about to slam shut. “Any time, Okuni,” he shouted.
The shinobi stepped back, eyes widening slightly. But to his credit, the assassin reacted swiftly, striking again, this time at Shin. Shin found himself driven back by his opponent’s ferocity. As he fell back, he realized he would not be able to counter the next blow. Thankfully, someone was there to do it for him.
“Hello, Chobei,” Okuni said as she lunged into view and parried the one-eyed man’s blade. “You are most determined, I must commend you.” She glanced at Shin as she went back-to-back with him, facing the other shinobi. “I heard everything. It was him.”
“Of course it was. They wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“That closet was very cramped, by the way.”
“Is that why it took you so long to appear?”
“I like to make an entrance.”
“Enough. This is not a stage.” Chobei raised his sword. “I thought you might have fled. It would have been the wise thing to do.”
“And miss this?” Okuni inclined her head. “I am afraid our dance ends here, however.” She extended one of her knives. “If you depart now, I will not seek vengeance.”
The other shinobi laughed. “You cannot seriously…” she began.
�
�Quiet,” Chobei said. He kept his eye on Shin. “And what about your friend?”
“I have no interest in you,” Shin said, quickly.
Chobei paused. Then, he gave another shrug. “Unfortunately, we have our reputation to consider. My apologies.” He darted forward, more quickly than Shin expected. It was all he could do to parry the blow. Okuni had leapt to meet the other shinobi, and he quickly lost sight of them as Chobei occupied all of his attentions.
Shin was not a warrior by inclination or nature. But every Daidoji learned how to wield a blade from an early age. Shin found those lessons flooding back to him as he and the shinobi began to circle each other. Now that the advantage of surprise was gone, Chobei had decided to refrain from hacking at him. Instead, they faced one another across a sword’s length. “You are skilled, my lord,” Chobei said.
“As are you,” Shin said. Chobei inclined his head. Shin studied him, noting his stance, the tension in his limbs. Time seemed to slow. He could hear nothing but the hammering of his own heart. He relaxed slightly, recalling his lessons. Recalling the words of his grandfather. Know the length of your steel.
When Chobei moved, Shin was ready. Steel rose in a spray of red. Chobei fell as Shin stepped past him, avoiding the blood that fell across the floor like rain. He paused, panting slightly as the buzz of adrenaline began to fade.
He turned and saw Okuni and her opponent watching him. “You… he…” Okuni began. Shin turned. Chobei lay gasping on the floor, clutching the stump of his wrist. His sword – and the hand that still gripped its hilt – lay some distance away. The shinobi looked up at him with pain-filled eyes.
“You had me,” he said, flatly.
“I still have you.” Shin lifted his sword and studied the bloody edge. “I have been responsible for the deaths of two of your number. I would not have any more lives on my head. Unlike some, I have no taste for it.” He flicked Chobei’s blood from his wakizashi and sheathed it. “I will give you your life, in return for mine – and the lives of those under my protection.”
Chobei grunted and tore a strip from his tunic to fashion into a makeshift tourniquet. Shin did not offer to help. Chobei did not seem the sort to appreciate such a gesture. The shinobi glanced at his companion, and she hurried to his side to aid him in tying the bandage. Shin said nothing, aware of how much rested on his silence. Chobei could not be bullied. Shinobi had their own code, even if it wasn’t one Shin was overly familiar with. So he waited. And hoped.
Kasami entered the room, and all eyes turned towards her. There was blood on her armor and face. None of it hers, from the look of it. If she was surprised by the sight that greeted her, she didn’t show it. “Three of them tried to get in through the service entrance,” she said, as if it were no more a concern than the weather.
“And?” Shin asked.
“I expressed my displeasure.” She ran a handful of silk along her blade, freeing it of blood, and sheathed the weapon. “Two survived, one did not. There may be others. The servants are lighting lanterns.”
“Lun and Kitano?”
“Both still alive,” Kasami said. “I left the pirate in the gambler’s care.” She looked at Chobei for the first time. “Should I send someone for the magistrate – or the governor?”
“That is up to our guest.” Shin turned back to Chobei. “I would guess that your cadre was not large. A dozen, maybe less. Am I right?”
Chobei said nothing. Shin went on, regardless. “Three dead, in as many days, is a blow both to your reputation and your capabilities. You are injured, and if I wish it, you will die here, as will your companion. What will happen then?”
Chobei glanced at his companion. Shin read something in his expression – fear, maybe, or worry. “I cannot cancel a contract once it is undertaken,” Chobei began.
“Yes. But you can retreat. And give me a day to speak to the one who hired you.”
“He is dead,” the woman spat. “We killed him.” She still looked ready for a fight, but Chobei wasn’t. The older shinobi knew he was beaten. Shin just had to get him to admit it.
He decided to seize the opening he’d been given. “Saiga, you mean?”
Chobei nodded after a moment’s hesitation, and something that might have been regret passed through his eyes. Shin nodded. “Then I will speak to his master. The one responsible for all of this. Give me a day. If I fail, feel free to return for another try.”
Chobei laughed hoarsely as his companion helped him to his feet. “You have me at your mercy, but act as if I am the one with the advantage. How like a Crane.”
Shin accepted the compliment with a nod, but said nothing. Chobei seemed to take his silence as some sign, and said, “Very well.” His companion made to protest, but he silenced her with a shake of his head. “Would you make your child an orphan? We are leaving.”
Kasami stepped aside to let them pass. Chobei stopped at the door and turned. His face was pale, and his mangled wrist was pressed tight to his chest. “I wish you luck, Crane. For both our sakes.” Then he was gone. Even injured, he moved quietly. His companion followed more slowly, with several lingering looks.
“That one might be trouble,” Okuni said.
“But that is for tomorrow. Today, we have other concerns.” He took a deep breath. “It is time to face the cause of all of this. Let us pray they are in the mood to talk. Otherwise, we may well wish we’d let the shinobi kill us.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
The Truth of Water
Shin stepped onto the dock of the shrine as Kitano tied the flatboat off. Kuma’s guards were there to meet them, as he had expected. Kasami stepped forward, one hand on her sword. He waved her back. Neither had bothered to change, or cleanse themselves. A calculated insult – and a message. He studied them in silence.
The night was quiet, save the sound of the river and the distant bells of the boats making for their berths. “Expecting us?” Shin asked, finally. There were five of them, all in Dragonfly heraldry and all looking distinctly nervous. Then, if he’d been tasked with stopping a lunatic nobleman, covered in blood, he might be nervous as well.
The guards shared a look, and one cleared his throat. “You may not enter, my lord.”
“And how are you going to stop me?” Shin asked, taking a step towards them. “Will you draw your swords and put yourselves in my path? Why? All I wish to do is speak to your master on a matter of great import to us both.”
Another look passed between them. Kasami loosened her sword in its sheath. Shin gestured, and she subsided, if grudgingly. “Tell them I am here,” he said, firmly. “Tell them now. I will wait here until you return. But I warn you, my patience is not limitless – and I do not intend to leave until I have spoken to them.” He settled himself to wait as one of the guards vanished into the shrine. As he’d suspected, at least some of them were unblooded, otherwise they’d have never been allowed inside.
“You were right,” Kasami said, before he could speak.
“Yes.”
They stood in silence for a time, before she said, “Are you certain that this is the best course of action? They might decide to kill you themselves.”
“Then I expect you will fulfil your duty and take vengeance on my behalf.”
“They might kill me too.”
“That is a risk I am willing to take,” Shin said. He smiled as he felt Kasami’s glare boring into him. “If it comes to it, shugenja die as easily as other men, or so I have been told. You might have less difficulty than you imagine.”
“I’d rather not find out, if it’s all the same to you.”
Shin looked at her. “Neither would I, come to that.”
After a few moments of silence, Kasami asked, “How long do you think they’ll make us wait out here?”
As if in answer to her question, the guard returned. “Lord Kuma asks that you meet them down near the water’s edg
e.” He cleared his throat. “For obvious reasons, you cannot be allowed inside, my lord.”
Shin looked at Kasami. “Wait here.”
“I thought we weren’t doing that any more.”
He hesitated. “I said unless it was absolutely necessary. Which, in this case, it seems to be. So, wait here.”
“What if you don’t come back?”
“Then do as you see fit.”
She eyed the guards speculatively and tapped the hilt of her sword. “Right.”
Kuma was waiting for him down by the water’s edge, where stone gave way to mud and roots. The shugenja looked as composed as ever, but there was a harried light in their eyes. The look they gave him was challenging. “I have always thought there is a truth in water,” they said, as they crouched atop a curve of root. They were washing their hands with unhurried precision. “It washes away all falsehood, revealing what lies beneath. But it also protects. Keeping the lies at bay.”
“Not in this case, I think.”
Kuma frowned and stood. “You forget yourself.”
“Or maybe it is you who forget yourself,” Shin said. “So many deaths – why?”
“They were necessary.”
“Another lie.”
Kuma stared at him. Then looked out over the river. “What do you want here, Lord Shin?”
“Where is Tonbo Enji?”
Kuma hesitated. “Safe.”
Shin nodded. After Enji had fled, Shin had deduced that there was only one place he could go – or would go. Had he gone to confess, or maybe to beg for his life? Either way, it would have had the same result. “You sent the shinobi to silence him because you could not do it yourself. Not because you lacked the courage to do so, but because you must remain pure in order to guard this place.”
“Is that a question?”
“It is a theory. And one you do not seem in a rush to deny.” Shin looked around. “Is he here, taking sanctuary?”
Poison River Page 28
