Death's Kiss Page 5

  I should have thought that would please you, cousin, Aimi signed. You were never in favor of peace between the families.

  “I am not in favor of an equal peace,” Shijan said, drawing close to her, so that she could more easily read his lips. He waved her guards back, and they turned resolutely away, facing outwards. Once they had done so, Shijan gave them no more thought. “But peace is survival. A war between the Zeshi and the Shiko will only result in the destruction of both families – or worse, our penury.”

  Aimi’s gestures became sullen. You would think that is worse, she signed.

  Shijan bared his teeth in a smile, so that any observer might think he was merely sharing a joke with his cousin. “You are acting like a child, so I will treat you as such. An alliance between the Zeshi and the Shiko only benefits the clan. A healthy competition is infinitely preferable to a bloody war. Especially a war that we might not win.”

  Another flurry of signing. Are you afraid then, cousin?

  Shijan stiffened. Once, he’d entertained the idea of marrying her himself, if only to further cement the bonds between their sides of the family. But these past few months he’d come to realize how lucky an escape he’d made – she was obstinate, disrespectful, and troublesome. “Fear is not in me, girl,” he said, flatly. “But I am not a fool, either. I am responsible for the Zeshi holdings in Hisatu-Kesu, and I will do as I think best–”

  “You are only responsible for so long as my father is away,” Aimi said out loud, her signs becoming sharper. She wanted any bystanders to hear, to embarrass him. Pink patches glowed on her cheeks, and her eyes narrowed dangerously. Shijan hesitated. She was correct, of course. “When he returns–”

  “And how long has it been, then?” he said, sharply, interrupting her with a flick of his fingers. “Since he was due back?”

  She fell silent. Her eyes slid away, but only for a moment, signaling her surrender. Shijan nodded in satisfaction. “Yes. You begin to understand, I think. Before he left, your father arranged your marriage to poor, unfortunate Gen – now, thanks to your bodyguard, I must find some other arrangement, and swiftly, else all that we have worked towards these long months will be for nothing.”

  She gestured. What will you do?

  “Nothing, for the moment.” Shijan glanced around. No one was paying them much attention, thankfully. “The Iuchi have sent a special representative, who is due any day now. Until the matter is settled to their satisfaction, we can do nothing save wait.”

  Aimi’s eyes widened slightly and she made the sign for surprise. Shijan read the guilt in her gestures, and felt a sudden flush of anger burn through him. “This was your doing, wasn’t it?” He didn’t wait for her to reply. “Bad enough it was your detestable bodyguard who killed that idiot, Gen, but you had to go and beg the Iuchi to send someone else to interfere? Do you understand what you’ve done?”

  She gestured frantically. Ruri was defending me – and herself. To condemn her for that is not justice, no matter what you and the Shiko claim.

  Shijan stared into her eyes and felt his anger evaporate as quickly as it had risen. “No, but it is as close as we will come.” Then, a thought occurred to him. “Have you spoken to her at all since Batu arrested her?”

  No. Her hands dropped.

  He smiled sadly. “Speak to her, cousin. I cannot make you see sense, but perhaps she can.” He stepped aside. “If not, I am certain we will have this conversation again.”

  Aimi stared at him for a moment. “Thank you, cousin,” she said, out loud.

  “Do not thank me yet,” he called after her, as she hurried away, trailed by her guards. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yo, the sun is giving me a bit of a headache. Let us return home, so that I might relax.”

  “As you will, my lord,” Yo said.

  Chapter Five

  Two Step

  Shin’s first impression of Two Step Village was that it smelt strongly of river mud and horse dung. His second impression was that the houses seemed to have been made from a combination of both. He descended the sloop’s gangplank with stately care, a sunshade held protectively over his head. Lady Sun beat down fiercely this time of year, and he had no intention of braving her wrath unnecessarily.

  Kasami followed him, in full armor despite the heat of the day. Indeed, she seemed more comfortable attired for war than she did in a kimono. He hoped their hosts would not take offense – though, knowing the proclivities of the Unicorn, they likely wouldn’t care one way or another. They had their own standards of etiquette which often only barely resembled those held by the other great clans, but which they upheld with no less severity.

  The creak of rigging and the slap of water against hulls was omnipresent. Carts trundled down dirt lanes heading to or away from the scanty docks that mushroomed off the shore. Houses crouched along the water’s edge, growing smaller and more inoffensive as one drew further away from the river.

  As one might expect, there were people everywhere. River birds swooped and circled, crying out to one another, and stray curs yapped and snarled over piles of refuse near the docks. Shin paused at the foot of the gangplank to take it all in. His eyes missed nothing, filing everything away for later study.

  If he’d seen one village like this, he’d seen a hundred. But each of them was unique and worth some study, however brief. “I should have brought my paints,” he said. He glanced at Kasami, and was rewarded by a surreptitious roll of her eyes. He allowed himself a thin smile. She had been remarkably courteous all trip, and it was quite satisfying to breach the armor of etiquette once in a while.

  “I thought you said the magistrate was meeting us,” she said.

  “I was told they would. Perhaps they were unavoidably detained.” Shin fluttered his fan, stirring the muggy air of the river bank. Summer was on the prowl, and the heat would be oppressive by the afternoon. He could taste rain on the breeze. Nearby, a wandering musician plucked at the strings of a battered shamisen with her bachi.

  Kasami shifted her weight slightly. “We’re being watched.”

  “Of course we are. We wear the colors of the Crane and these are Unicorn lands. The local heimin have probably never seen our like before.” He let his gaze roam freely, noting the cargo being loaded nearby. Heavy wicker crates, containing deliveries of armor and barding bound for Shiro Iuchi. He considered a bit of innocent snooping, but refrained. That deliveries were still being made implied that the situation had not grown any worse. Then, in his experience, there was little that could dissuade a merchant from trying to make a profit, even in a time of war.

  He heard the sudden thud of hooves and saw the streets near the docks clear. Merchants, sailors, and beggars made way for a small but impressive column of eight riders bearing the livery of the Iuchi. The horses slid to a halt at the edge of the docks. Shin waited patiently for the riders to announce themselves.

  “Yoriki,” Kasami murmured. Shin nodded. Lesser-ranking samurai, often found in the entourages of their betters. Though they wore Iuchi colors, they were no more of that family than Kasami was a Daidoji.

  One of the riders urged his mount through the ranks. Unlike the others, he wore no armor. Rather, he was clad in the official robes of a clan magistrate. He dismounted with some awkwardness, helped by one of his followers. Something about the way he half-fell to the ground seemed familiar to Shin.

  As the dust of their arrival cleared, allowing Shin to see the newcomer’s face clearly, his face split in a wide smile. “Batu!”

  “You.” Batu stared at him in what Shin judged to be mingled shock and horror. Shin felt a flicker of disappointment at the thought. He forced an easy smile.

  “Me. I was not aware you had become a magistrate, Iuchi Batu.”

  “I did not see the need to inform you, Daidoji Shin.”

  Shin lowered his fan. “How long has it been, then? A few years?”


  “Ten.”

  “Forgive me. One loses track of these things.”

  “It is to be expected. You were always quite self-involved.” Batu looked away. “You have your travel papers, I assume.”

  “Of course. Would you care to inspect them?”

  “That won’t be necessary. Later, perhaps.” Batu spoke stiffly. “My cousin did not say you were the chosen representative.”

  “Of course, she’s your cousin.” Shin shook his head, feeling somewhat annoyed with himself. If he’d been half as observant as he liked to pretend to be, he would have realized it earlier. In all the months he’d known Konomi, he’d never thought to ask if she knew Batu. “Well, if it helps, she didn’t mention you either.”

  “Why would that help?” Batu asked, icily.

  “I sense a certain hostility.” Shin arched an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re still angry with me. I did apologize for the misunderstanding.”

  “There is no need to discuss the matter,” Batu said, flatly.

  “Are you certain? I’d hate to think you’ve been angry with me all this time.”

  Batu flushed. He’d always been easy to read – and provoke. He lacked a courtier’s sheen, like many provincial bushi. Shin had done his best to tutor the other man in their short time together, but some lessons were easier to learn than others. “I confess, I have not thought of you at all,” Batu said, as harshly as courtesy allowed.

  Shin kept his smile fixed in place. “Well, I’m sure you’ve been busy. It is fortuitous that you are here, however. It will make this whole affair so much more pleasant.”

  “Pleasant,” Batu repeated, his tone implying that it was anything but.

  “Well yes, of course. Three years or ten, it has been too long since we have spoken, and I look forward to catching up with you. I’m sure you feel the same.”

  “Of course. Nothing would please me more. You can still ride a horse, I assume.”

  Shin frowned. “I can.”

  “Good. My subordinates will oversee the collection of your baggage. Horses will be procured. We will ride to the foothills and then ascend on foot. I trust that will not be too tiring for you.”

  “I think I can manage.” Shin was somewhat startled by Batu’s attitude. While they had not parted on good terms, he had not expected this level of vitriol.

  “Good. You will be escorted to my residence. I have other business requiring my attentions and so must leave you until tonight.” Batu’s face might as well have been a mask as he spoke. Shin, startled by this rudeness, could only nod mutely.

  Batu promptly remounted his horse as awkwardly as he had dismounted, and rode back the way he’d come. His subordinates glanced at one another in apparent concern. One cleared her throat and said, “If you will wait here, my lord, I will see to acquiring horses.”

  Shin smiled at her. “Please do not rush on our account. We are in no great hurry, I think.” She returned his smile hesitantly, as if uncertain as to whether it was proper to be on good terms with someone her master clearly disliked.

  “Thank you, my lord.” She turned to confer with the others, leaving Shin to endure Kasami’s level, unyielding stare.

  “You know him, then?” Kasami murmured, after a moment.

  “So I thought.” Shin watched as one of the samurai broke away from the group and hurried back into the village, likely to look for horses. He settled himself in for a long wait. He doubted there were any steeds worth the name here.

  “I wasn’t aware you knew any of the Iuchi.”

  “Possibly because I have never mentioned it.” Shin glanced at her. “On occasion, the families of the Unicorn will send their sons and daughters to train with the families of the Crane. To learn those arts that we take for granted. Batu was sent to the Daidoji.”

  “And?”

  “And we became friends.”

  “He didn’t look very friendly to me.”

  “Times change. People too.”

  Kasami was silent for a time. But Shin’s hope that she’d let the matter drop was in vain. “What did you do?”

  “Why do you think I did anything?”

  “Because I know you. What did you do?”

  Shin sighed. “I’d rather not discuss it, if it’s all the same to you.”

  Kasami looked as if she might press the issue, but he was saved by Batu’s subordinate. She joined them. “The horses will be here shortly. Again, I must apologize for the wait. Two Step is a large village, but still a village. It took time to locate suitable mounts. Most of the horses here are unfit for riding.”

  “So I suspected. Still, your efforts are most appreciated…?”

  “Nozomi, my lord. Kenshin Nozomi.” She bowed her head, and Shin gestured for her to straighten up. “I am pleased to meet you. I was sent to train with the Daidoji as a girl.”

  “Then I must apologize in advance, for I am something of a disappointment to my family.” She blinked, uncertain how to respond, and Shin took pity on her. “Tell me, how long have you served as Batu’s – Lord Batu’s – bodyguard?”

  “Since he became magistrate, my lord. The Iuchi felt he required a trusted blade at his back, and I volunteered.”

  “A volunteer? Do you hear, Kasami – she volunteered. They didn’t have to order her to do it. Unlike some.”

  “I heard,” Kasami said, with equanimity. She studied Nozomi, as the latter studied her in return. They were of similar height and build, but there the resemblance ended. Nozomi had the look of the plains about her, an almost foreign cast to her features – a reminder of the Unicorn’s wanderings outside of Rokugan.

  “Hiramori,” Nozomi said, after a moment.

  Kasami frowned. “Yes.”

  “I trained under a Hiramori. At Kosaten Shiro.” Nozomi smiled. “He was quite popular, though I confess that I could not quite understand his accent.”

  “It is quite peculiar,” Shin interjected. “I often find myself at a loss when Kasami speaks.” He was saved from Kasami’s rejoinder by the arrival of their horses, as well as a cart for Kitano and his luggage.

  The ride into the foothills was uneventful, if a touch longer than Shin might have liked. He questioned Nozomi as they rode, and she answered readily and respectfully. She had obviously been ordered to provide him with any help he might require.

  “Tell me,” he said, “what has the mood of the city been like since the death of Shiko Gen?”

  She pondered the question for a time before answering. “Uncertain. Hisatu-Kesu is a largely sedate city, compared to some. Parts are more troublesome than others, and those parts have grown worse since the killing. The commoners smell war, though that word has not so far been uttered by either family.”

  “The heimin often notice what we refuse to see,” Shin said. “And what of you, Nozomi? What do you make of it all?”

  Her face became a mask. “I would not wish to bother you with my humble thoughts on the matter,” she said.

  “No bother. I asked, after all.” He peered at her. “Tell me, if you would.”

  She looked away. “It was inopportune.”

  Shin hid a smile. “A curious word.”

  “The negotiations between the families have been ongoing for several years. The marriage would have been the culmination of those efforts.” Her eyes slid towards him. “Now, it might all be undone because of one rash decision.”

  “Then you believe the yojimbo is guilty.”

  “She confessed.”

  “There are many reasons one might confess.”

  Nozomi eyed him. “To protect her mistress, you mean?”

  “I have no doubt that Kasami would do the same for me.”

  Kasami gave a sudden, sharp bark of laughter, followed by a moment of mortified silence. Shin smiled at the perplexed expression on Nozomi’s face. “See?” he said. “Th
e very thought fills her with joy.”

  Nozomi gave him a hesitant smile in return. “I had considered that, my lord. That the yojimbo might have taken the blame for her mistress.”

  “And yet it does not give you pause.”

  “Is it not a yojimbo’s duty?” Nozomi shook her head. “There must be consequences. Who better to suffer them?”

  Shin had no reply. Instead, he merely nodded. After a few moments, he turned his attention to their surroundings. There were houses and farms scattered throughout the rugged foothills for miles in all directions. “It must be quite arduous to keep the peace in such a scattered community,” he said.

  Nozomi nodded. “It poses its own challenges, but Lord Batu has risen to meet all of them. When he arrived, he gathered us all together around a map of the city and divided it into patrol-districts. For every yoriki, there are a dozen heimin vassals trained in arms and ready to serve, and we alternate routes so that none of us get too comfortable.”

  “Wise,” Kasami murmured.

  “Batu always did have a head for that sort of thing,” Shin said. “You mentioned challenges – is it dangerous, then?”

  “Parts of it. In the foothills especially. The families see to the security of their own residences in the heights, but in the foothills there are brigands and worse.” She glanced at Shin. “I’m sure it’s nothing you haven’t witnessed yourself, in the City of the Rich Frog.”

  “Indeed,” Shin said, suddenly conscious of Kasami’s eyes on him. He changed the subject, remarking on the scenery, and Nozomi happily fell into a discussion of the natural steam vents that were spread throughout the mountain and under the city.

  As they rode, he studied the mountains looming above them. The craggy peaks were imposing towers of rock that rose well into the sky, higher than he cared to look. The thought of those vast heights made his stomach twitch in a most uncomfortable manner.

  He had never made an attempt to cross the Spine of the World Mountains himself, but he had read about those who had. It seemed a perilous undertaking, unless one was wise enough to take Iuchi Pass or one of the other cut-throughs.