Dale Furutani - Kill the Shogun

Kaze looked at her kindly, although he realized she couldn’t see his expression with the komuso headgear on. It was impossible to imagine what kind of life she had led for the last few years. She had been the pampered plaything of sick men, given fine clothes and then abused. It was good she still had the spirit to run away. It showed she had not been completely broken.

“We are going to Ningyo-cho, but not to the Little Flower. We’re going to a place near it, where you can be safe. I have other business to take care of in Edo, but I can’t do it until I know you will be properly cared for, if I’m not in a position to help you. You know, a few nights ago I was in the place I’m taking you to, and I could hear your flute. It was so full of sadness that I think I understand some of what you’re feeling. I know it will be hard for you to trust me, but remember, I was sent by your mother. Even though she is in the next life, your mother still loves you, and she wants me to protect you. She would not send you someone you couldn’t trust.”

Tears filled the child’s eyes. Kaze picked her up and started carrying her in his arms. In a confused blubber, Kiku-chan said, “I left my geta back there.”

“I know. We’ll buy you proper sandals, and clothes that aren’t as fancy, but suitable for a girl of your age. Those geta were the shoes of a prostitute. You are no longer a prostitute. It’s proper for us to leave those shoes behind. You are no longer part of the Little Flower. You are Kiku-chan, the daughter of my Lady, and you’re safe now.”

Is this your daughter?” Momoko was fussing over Kiku-chan, but clearly curious about the relationship between the girl and Kaze.

“She is my responsibility,” Kaze said. “For a while, I would like her to be your responsibility.”

“Me?”

“Yes. Goro and Hanzo have good hearts, and they’ll help. I have to do something, and I want to make sure Kiku-chan will be taken care of if I don’t succeed. You are the person I can trust with that responsibility, especially if I don’t come back.”

“What are you talking about? Are you going to do something dangerous?”

Kaze smiled. “It can’t be more dangerous than five ninja trying to kill me, yet here I stand, still alive.”

“It is dangerous.”

“Life is dangerous. If I don’t do this, then it will continue to be more dangerous than it needs to be.” Kaze took the remaining gold he had received from Nobu out of his sleeve, gold he had withheld from Jitotenno to provoke an incident that would get attention. He handed the coins to Momoko.

“Here,” he said, “take this money and do two things. First, get Kiku-chan some different clothes: clothes suitable for a child of her age, so she doesn’t look like she’s going to a bawdy house. Next, rent me a horse.”

“A horse?”

“Yes. Make sure I can get it at any hour of the day or night, and make sure it’s at a stable on the west side of Edo Castle.”

Momoko looked at the gold coins. “This is more than it will take to do that. What do you want me to do with the rest?”

Kaze looked at her strangely, and Momoko realized that a samurai rarely concerned himself with money. He let his wife do that. By giving her his money, Kaze was extending a kind of intimacy to her. She blushed.

“Keep the money,” he said patiently. “If I don’t come back, you will need the money for Kiku-chan. If I do come back, you can use the money to help the theater and Goro and Hanzo. Just don’t tell them you have it, and don’t tell them who gave it to you. The last time I gave them money, they were banging their heads on the ground with bows of gratitude. It was disgusting. I don’t want to see that again.”

“But Goro and Hanzo won’t need the money. The theater is doing better, thanks to you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. The actors are using the wild makeup, like you did, and the people love it. We can’t show passion on the stage, but we can talk about it, and women seem to like that even better than showing it. I’ve also had the idea that we should include sword fights in our plays, after seeing you with the ninja. I’m sure that will be popular, too! Here. Take the money back. You’ll need it.”

Kaze frowned. Momoko knew she was spoiling the moment, and she cursed her inability to really understand how the samurai mind worked. Talking to a samurai like Matsuyama-san about money was very bad manners, especially after he had entrusted you with handling his money for him.

“Sumimasen. I’m sorry,” she said, with a deep bow. “I’ll get the clothes and arrange for the horse.”

Kaze sat in the valley where two roofs came together, hidden from the ground but still able to watch the temple. He had been watching for a day and a night and a second day, only leaving briefly to answer calls of nature or to take a drink from the communal well, late at night when he wouldn’t be seen. He had a small store of toasted rice cakes he brought with him, the kind of rations he might have on a hard military campaign.

As in a military campaign, Kaze didn’t consider waiting as wasted time. Every warrior knew how to act, but the good ones also knew how to wait. Timing in a campaign, battle, or fight was crucial. Action and waiting were a natural balance, like breathing in and breathing out. Kaze knew his waiting and watching was just the prelude to action. Of course, Kaze also knew that his waiting might be in vain. Thus it was with battle plans, where sometimes waiting came to nothing because an expected situation didn’t develop.

During the first day, he saw the man he was waiting for. He was staying in the temple because of Edo’s housing shortage. Kaze was able to identify him by the crest on his helmet, which Nobu had described to him. He seemed to be going about his normal duties, so Kaze had no interest in him then.

In the depth of the second night, in the early morning, at the hour of the Tiger, Kaze did have an interest in the man. His waiting paid off. He saw the man leaving the temple with two companions. They were on horseback, and what interested Kaze was that he carried a musket and he was not wearing his insignia. He and his companions were dressed as charcoal burners.

They must be going into the woods, Kaze thought, where their costumes would allow them to blend in. On the day of the attempted assassination, Kaze was sure he had worn his uniform. With so many soldiers rushing about after the shot was fired, another soldier was almost invisible in the crowd, even one carrying a musket. That’s also why the yagura watchman didn’t cry out when an armed man entered his watch platform. It would not be unusual for a uniformed officer to want to get a good observation perch. It’s also why no one noticed him leaving the scene of the assassination attempt.

Kaze watched what direction they took leaving Edo, and quickly got off the roof and rushed to the stable where his horse was waiting.

Following people undetected on horseback was harder than following them on foot, especially since Kaze didn’t want them to get too far ahead of him. But the darkness helped as they crossed the farms and villages that surrounded Edo, and by the time the dawn arrived, they were off the roads and into the woods to the northwest of Edo, where the trees could screen Kaze.

The trio proceeded into the forest, to a point where the thick groves of trees were broken up by meadows. Then they stopped, with two of them moving forward on foot while the third held the horses.

Kaze tied his own horse and circled around the man holding the horses. Moving with the silence of an experienced hunter, he crept up to the two men, who seemed to be sitting behind a large rock, waiting. Kaze sat and waited, too.