Dale Furutani - Jade Palace Vendetta

Hishigawa glowered at the peasants. Peasants were shrewd, but these two wouldn’t know the value of making a dangerous journey. “Ten coppers, my final offer,” Hishigawa said sternly.

“I’ll take it,” Goro said hastily.

“That’s for both of you,” Hishigawa added.

“What about it, Hanzo? Let’s go to Kamakura. When we get there, we’ll have money to spend,” Goro said.

Hanzo hesitated a second, still not sure that the gruff, mud-covered man was completely human, but the wheedling of his friend finally got him to agree. The thoughts of the searching men were driven from his mind by the thought of more money than their little farm could earn in a year.

Afew hours later, Kaze saw the merchant returning with two other figures. Kaze was in the midst of packing mud into the end of one of the large bamboo poles that formed the rails of the cart. The bamboo was almost as thick around as a man’s arm, and it took several scoops of mud to block off the end. Then Kaze bent down and washed his hands in a puddle of rainwater.

Kaze’s brows furrowed into a V at the sight of the merchant’s recruits. Both were short and skinny. That wasn’t necessarily a sign of a lack of strength for pushing the cart, because peasants were notoriously wiry and full of stamina. What caused Kaze to frown was that both seemed to be engaged in some kind of dispute, gesturing wildly and shaking their fists at each other.

Hishigawa, leading the quarreling pair, had a grim look to his face, his jaw set and a clear look of displeasure painted across his visage. As the trio approached, Kaze was able to pick up the substance of the argument.

“We should split it evenly,” one of the peasants said. He was wearing a filthy gray kimono.

“No, I am the one who agreed to this job, then I asked you. Therefore, you are working for me. I should have two coins for every one you get. In fact, you should call me Boss Goro for the rest of the journey!” He was wearing a pair of traveling pants and a jacket. His bald pate was topped by a headband of twisted cloth.

“Ridiculous!”

“It’s ridiculous that you think it’s ridiculous!”

“Yes? Well, it’s ridiculous that you think my saying it’s ridiculous is ridiculous!”

Goro had his mouth working like a fugu , a blowfish, as he sorted through his companion’s retort, trying to understand what his response should be. He gave up and hit Hanzo on the forehead with an open hand. The blow made a sharp slapping sound.

“ Itai! Ouch! What gives you the right to hit me like that?”

“Because I’m the boss.”

“You’re not the boss! What makes you the boss?”

“I told you it was my idea to take this job.”

“You don’t speak for me. When you asked me, I was the one who said I would take the job.”

“See! See! You admit I asked you. That makes me the boss.”

“It doesn’t.”

“It does!”

“Ridiculous!”

“Ridiculous yourself.”

Slap.

“I said that hurts! You better stop that before I get mad and hurt you, too. But I won’t just give you a slap on the head. I’ll smash you!” Hanzo shook a fist at Goro.

Slap.

“Oh! Now you’ve really hurt me!” Tears formed in Hanzo’s eyes. He grabbed his forehead and moaned.

“There, there. I didn’t mean to really hurt you. I see I’ve gone too far. We’ll split the money evenly. I promise you. You don’t have to call me Boss.” Then, in a low mutter, he said, “But I’m still the boss!”

Kaze cocked his head to one side and looked at Hishigawa. “This is the best you could do?” he asked dryly.

“Of course it’s the best I could do,” Hishigawa said with a tight jaw. “They’ve been arguing like this ever since we left their farmhouse. They won’t stop!”

“What are you called?” Kaze asked the peasants.

The two were a bit surprised that a samurai would bother to ask their names.

“I’m Goro,” the man with the headband said.

“I’m Hanzo,” said the one in the filthy gray kimono.

“What were you told about what we want you to do?”

Goro pointed to Hishigawa. “He promised us ten coppers if we’d help him push a cart to Kamakura.”

“You’ll get gold,” Kaze said.

“Gold!”

“What are you promising?” Hishigawa said.

“Now listen carefully,” Kaze said to the peasants. “There will be danger.”

“Why are you telling them-”

Kaze looked at Hishigawa, silencing the angry merchant. “I’m telling them because they should know. Their lives will be in danger, as ours have been.”

Returning his attention to the peasants, he said, “That chest tied to the pushcart has gold in it. There are men who want that gold. Perhaps by now there are many men. They’ve already killed the three guards who were assigned to protect that gold, and they will kill us, if they can. We must get that cart to the barrier, where additional guards can be hired to protect us for the rest of the journey to Kamakura. Until then, we will be in great danger. Do you understand that?”

As Kaze spoke, the eyes of the two peasants grew in size. They looked at each other, then at Kaze, and said, “Hai! Yes!”

“And do you still want to help?”

Once again the two peasants looked at each other, then at Kaze. But this time they looked at each other a second time before answering.

“What do you think, Hanzo?”

“What do you think?”

“I think these men must be the ones who those other men were looking for. Still, this samurai has been honest with us, and he’s promised us gold. I think we should help.”

“What other men?” Kaze asked.

“Last night a group of men came by our hut, looking for a party with a pushcart. I suppose that’s you.”

“How many men?”

“I don’t know. A lot.”

“More than four?”

“Yes, quite a few more than four.”

“Yes, they are looking for us,” Kaze said. “They want that gold. We still need your help, and there might be the chance that those men will find us. Will you still help us?”

Goro looked at Kaze. “We’re not fighters,” he said.

Kaze smiled. “I don’t expect you to be. We just need men who will push the cart. If there’s any fighting to be done, I’ll handle it.”

There was a moment’s hesitation as the two peasants looked at each other.

“Gold for us?” Hanzo asked.

“Gold,” Kaze confirmed.

“Then we’ll do it.”

“Good! There’s no better time than now to start. Yosh! Let’s go! Give us a hand getting the cart back on the road.”

Goro and Hanzo took a position behind the cart to push it, and Kaze took one of the bamboo rails of the cart, with Hishigawa on the other. As they got the cart back on the road, Hishigawa groaned, “It seems even heavier than yesterday.”

“It’s the mud slowing us down, and you’re tired from yesterday,” Kaze said.

Hishigawa grunted a reply and the four men moved the cart down the road. Unlike Hishigawa and Kaze, Goro and Hanzo were not silent. They bickered constantly as they pushed. Kaze noticed that they pushed much better when they were arguing with each other, so he let them. Hishigawa tried to silence them a couple of times, and his harsh words and glowering gaze did silence them for a moment, but within minutes they would find some new cause of dispute between them and the arguments would start again.

Late in the morning they came to a fork in the road, with paths traveling both left and right.

“What path do we take?” Kaze asked.