A rooster crowed to mark the start of the day, followed by the tolling of bells at the Buddhist temples and Shinto shrines across the city. I sat up on my sleeping pad. The night in Surei’s male staff quarters had been the most comfortable I’d spent in several months.

My resolve was firm. I wasn’t going along with Surei’s plan. I had other things I needed to do, my oath to my father to fulfill. When we were children, she always managed to talk me into going along with her schemes against my better judgment. That wouldn’t happen this time.

I first needed to replenish my funds. I was sure there had to be some people around the capital hiring bushi.

As I dressed, I became aware of the sound of rain on the roof. Groaning, I opened the door.

It was pouring down rain. I hate rain. To add insult to injury, a cold gust of wind blew a flurry of drops through the door and into my face, giving me a taste of what the day held in store.

I stared at the wet, muddy ground beyond the veranda. It wouldn’t hurt to wait a bit to confront Surei.

I’ll get some food and then tell her. No way of knowing how long before I have the chance to eat again. If I wait, maybe the rain will clear up a bit, too.

I saw Surei hurrying towards me through the latticework on the corridor connecting the sleeping quarters to the rest of the buildings. She wore a lime-green jacket over robes going from dark emerald to canary yellow with bright red hakama. Lord Mao trailed behind her, carefully avoiding puddles.

“Yoshi, I’m glad to see you’re up,” she said brightly. “I just sent a messenger over to Akiko letting her know we would be by later this morning.”

“Surei, there are other things I have to—”

“She’ll be so happy to see you. She was delighted when she heard I’d gotten you to help with her problem. She’s worried about you.”

It’s good to hear someone is glad I’m here.

“We’ll be leaving soon. I’ll let you know when your new clothes are ready.”

I ground my teeth in frustration. I knew this game. She would simply ignore any objection. "Surei," I said.

Spying some men carrying barrels of saké, she hurried after them, calling instructions.

Lord Mao sneered at me as he trotted into the room and sat near a heating brazier, cleaning himself.

Great, even the cat is laughing at me.

I shivered in the morning air and gritted my teeth as I trotted to the kitchen. Surei could ignore my refusals, but she wouldn’t bully me this time.

On the other hand, she had my old clothes burned, and she wants these back. I do need something to wear, if I want to make a good impression on prospective emplyers. Staying long enough to get breakfast and the new clothes won’t hurt.

The heat of the kitchen felt good. I grabbed some pickled radishes and dried fish off the counter. I hesitated. I had no money, and it could be quite a while before I could buy more food. I grabbed a bit of extra dried fish and slipped it into my robe. Then I sat down to eat.

I smiled as I thought about Akiko. She had been a sweet, obedient child. Always the good girl, she wavered between disapproval of Surei’s mischief and desire to join in. She joined in enough that Surei and I were permanently unwelcome around her house.

It would be rude to leave without saying hello to her. I should take the time to visit.

A timid cough behind me caught my attention. I turned to find the two girls from the night before, looking like they were ready to bolt. Both bowed frantically, the first one blurting out, “Mistress Hyacinth wants us to take you to see the Ume twins, sir. If you would please follow us…”

The second girl quickly put in, “After you’ve finished eating, of course. We wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

I felt even worse than I had the night before if that were possible.

Yoshi, the fearsome bushi, a terror to young girls everywhere.

Cook drifted in our direction, one of her chopping knives in one hand, a basket in the other.

I smiled at the girls and gave them a slight bow. “Of course. Thank you. I’ll finish quickly.”

Cook gave me a slight nod before coming over and adding a couple pieces of dried boar meat to my plate from the basket she carried.

My father was right. It pays to stay in good graces with the cook.

I wolfed down my food then followed the girls to where the Ume twins awaited me.

When the twins saw me, they gave me a deep bow, in perfect synchronization. I wondered again if they practiced or if it was just an accident. I bowed in return.

They whispered to each other as they took me to get my clothes fitted.

“I told you he wasn’t so bad. He was just tired last night,” White Ume was saying.

“And hungry, no doubt,” Pink Ume agreed. “He’s too thin if you ask me.”

We walked past a large pavilion in the garden where a group of people was gathered. A man stood at the front of the group. His saffron yellow robes and shaved head marked him as a wandering Buddhist monk. He was instructing the group in various moves. After he demonstrated the gestures, the onlookers dutifully copied him.

I stopped to watch the odd scene. The old women halted to see what was keeping me. “What are they doing?” I asked.

“Meditation,” White Ume said.

I must have seemed dubious, because Pink Ume assured me, “These are the latest techniques from China. The monk Benkon is teaching the classes himself.”

The women cocked their heads as if the name Benkon should impress me.

“Meditation? This looks more like unarmed combat drills,” I said, unconvinced.

“Well, Benkon does sometimes talk about how to use them in a fight,” Pink Ume conceded. “I don’t usually pay much attention to that part. I just enjoy watching Benkon while he’s talking.” She sighed. “He’s very handsome.”

White Ume said, “The yojimbo and attendants in the drinking rooms use the moves. The clients can get rowdy.” She clucked her tongue in disapproval. “It’s terrible, gentlemen of high rank and noble birth acting like drunken warriors.”

“I can imagine,” I, the drunken warrior, said dryly.

They both nodded in agreement, oblivious to my irony.

I continued watching, fascinated. After a very short wait, the two old women started making disapproving noises, then grabbed me by the arms and marched me to a small building behind the Summer Hall.

Surei had at least half a dozen women waiting. Others scurried in and out on various errands. I was stripped, shaved, my hair cut and styled, and dressed in my new finery in short order. Having all these women lavishing this much personal attention on me was a bit unnerving. As the final piece of my costume, White Ume approached carrying a red sash.

I felt a surge of anger at the sight of the colors of our traditional rivals.

I snapped at her, “What is this? I am a Minamoto, and you expect me to wear the Taira colors? Has the mistress decided I should change my clan now? Get me a suitable replacement, immediately.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she bowed deeply to me. “Milord, please forgive me. Hyacinth-sama neglected to inform me you were a Minamoto.”

She backed away, continuing to bow, then ran out of the room.

What the hell was that? What has come over me?

Clothes shouldn’t change me, yet, somehow, they did. Dressed as a man of rank again, I found myself falling back into aristocratic habits and attitudes of my youth. I had wanted to believe I was above such superficial things as clothes and the accoutrements of rank, and it was galling to discover they still held power over me.

White Ume hurried back into the room with a blue sash. Her hands trembled as she and her sister fastened it around me.

I felt terrible.

So far, I have bullied young girls and a couple old ladies. Maybe I should try terrorizing some infants next.

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“Thank you for getting the sash. And I must compliment you on the excellent work done on these clothes.”

White Ume seemed surprised by my gratitude. “Oh, we didn’t do it all. We have some very talented younger ladies to help us,” she indicated some of the other women in the room. “I am afraid my sister and I are past the age when we can stay up all night sewing and produce anything of quality.”

The lady herself entered. “Now, aren’t you handsome,” she purred.

Surei inspected my outfit with the same care a general inspects his troops before battle.

She turned to the Ume twins. “Excellent work, ladies.”

The women practically glowed at the praise. They turned and gave a big smile to their helpers.

“You may return to your regular duties.”

They bowed low, moving in perfect synchronization again.

No way that is accidental. They must practice it.

Surei turned back to me. “You’re going to need these.” She pulled a full-length tachi and a shorter kodachi out of a cabinet and handed them to me. I pulled them out and inspected them. They were of much better quality than the ones I had abandoned back at Stone’s after my fight with Yamada. I threaded my sash through the loops attached to the sheaths, putting one on each side, tachi on the left.

She nodded in satisfaction. “All right, let’s go. We can talk in my gyusha.”

A gyusha and a shinden-zukuri manor house? Surei must be doing very well. Neither of our families was allowed to use gyusha when we were growing up, we were much too low rank.

I wondered what it would be like to be rich. Steeling my resolve, I put the thought from my mind. She wasn’t going to rope me into this plan of hers.

Surei was already moving out the door, and I had to run to catch up with her.

“How is it you own an ox-cart?” I asked. “I thought only nobles of the junior fifth-rank and above were permitted to have them.”

Surei gave a small smile. “Even if one is not junior fifth rank, one can use a gyusha with an exemption from the Emperor. Senior Retired Emperor Toba has been very good to me.”

And how good has she been to him?

I shoved the ugly thought out of my mind. It didn't matter anymore.

The gyusha was already drawn up and the ox harnessed when we reached the front gate. The ornamentation of the gyusha was simple as befitted someone of lower rank. But there was elegance in its very simplicity. The wheels were of plain wood, but the ebony carriage had been polished mirror-smooth, then finished with a very thin lacquer. A beautiful inlay of a scarlet hyacinth adorned both sides of the vehicle. The shutters on the windows were tightly closed against the rain.

Nearly twenty servants and outriders were waiting with the gyusha. The carriage and retinue would not have been out of place to escort a lady of the third rank, much less a shirabyoushi. I was forced to revise my opinion of Surei upward yet again. She was certainly no regular dancer or saké house owner.

Surei mounted the gyusha, making the action appear both elegant and effortless.

I followed her. As I stepped up onto the sill, my foot slipped. Only by grabbing madly for the door frame was I able to keep from planting myself face first into the mud.

Surei looked at me disapprovingly. “Yoshi, please be a little more careful. I don’t want to have to take you back in to wash mud off your new clothes.”

I growled at her.

It’s not like I go around trying to trip and fall.

The inside of the gyusha was surprisingly roomy. I sat on a thick cushion with Surei seated across from me. It was a good thing the cart was so large. Although there were only two of us riding, the rest of the space was taken up by rice, vegetables, dried fish, and saké. Apparently, when Surei visited Akiko, she brought food supplies. Akiko must be in dire straits.

“I hope the rain stops soon,” Surei said.

“Why?”

“The high priestess is leaving for the Grand Shrine at Isé today. There’s an imperial procession to see her off. I am attending to remind people of the Spring Palace. Hopefully, some will stop by for a drink. If it keeps raining, no one important will come to see the procession.”

I just grunted. I had no interest in imperial processions. I would see Akiko, but then I was going to go back to looking for the traitor.

Undaunted by my silence, Surei kept talking.

“You will be traveling with the high priestess to Isé. She came back here for a special ceremony to protect the Emperor from harmful magic.”

The tragic death of the seventeen-year-old Emperor Konoe the previous year had caused talk of dark magic even in the provinces. Apparently, those rumors had still not died down. I had my doubts about the stories. After all, he had been emperor for fourteen years, and most people agreed his reign had been a good one. Why would someone suddenly decide to murder him? Maybe he had actually tried to rule or refused to retire. Court intrigues were beyond a mere bushi like me.

My clan had guard duty, and my father allowed me to accompany them on the day he ascended to the throne. I never saw the emperor, but the wails of an angry three-year-old came from his gissha. I wondered then how one so young could rule, little understanding that the emperor did no such thing.

I had no desire to hear about the goings-on at court. To demonstrate my complete disinterest in the conversation, I opened the shutters and gazed out at the street. The rain was letting up.

It made sense Surei was so interested in the gossip of the court. She had shown no interest in it when we were young, but rumors about activities at the imperial palace were probably a staple of her current clientele. No doubt her income depended on knowledge of current happenings.

She continued, “As if Emperor Konoe’s death wasn’t bad enough, Senior Retired Emperor Toba hasn’t been well.”

It seemed that once Surei got going, responses from her listener were entirely optional to her “conversations.” Still, it was alarming to hear the news of the Senior Retired Emperor’s illness. He was the real power in the imperial government. Typically, the emperors spent their time on ceremonial duties and were allowed little actual authority. It wasn’t until after they retired that they had time to gather and wield power.

If the Senior Retired Emperor died, there would be a transfer of power. Such things did not always go smoothly. I thought about the city guardsmen and their comments about Junior Retired Emperor Sutoku looking for support from bushi families out in the provinces.

Maybe I can find some work there.

Surei chattered on. “Toba’s illness is why he is letting Emperor Go-Shirakawa run things. Well, that and the fact he is adamant Sutoku gain no real power.”

Surprised out of my thoughts of money, I said, “What? Why wouldn’t Sutoku come into power after Toba dies? Sutoku would be the Senior Retired Emperor then. According to custom, he should run things.”

Surei gave a conspiratorial smile. “Toba is determined Sutoku won’t run anything. Sutoku isn’t actually his son, you know.”

I looked at her in shock.

She lowered her voice. “Everyone knows Toba’s grandfather had Toba marry a girl the grandfather adopted. As it turns out, the grandfather was very fond of the girl. So much so that Toba’s oldest son, Sutoku, was probably not Toba’s son at all, but his grandfather’s.” Surei gave me a knowing nod.

I waited for her to laugh, to let me in on the punchline of the joke. After a few moments, I realized she wasn’t kidding. Appalled and fascinated at the same time, I kept listening.

“Toba has referred to Sutoku as Uncle on more than one occasion. Apparently, Toba holds Sutoku’s irregular parentage against him and is determined to ruin him. That’s why Toba had Go-Shirakawa made emperor. Go-Shirakawa is only two years younger than Sutoku, and Toba intends to pass power to Go-Shirakawa instead of Sutoku.”

I said, “So if Sutoku wants to gain power, he will be opposed by Go-Shirakawa, which is why Sutoku is hiring country bushi?”

“Actually, they both are. Neither can move until Toba dies, but both appear to be preparing for war.”

“You mean fighting in the capital?” I was horrified. It had been three centuries since armies clashed in Kyoto. I’d seen what fighting did to peasant villages and rice fields, and I imagined that same sort of mayhem among the narrow streets and wood buildings of the capital. The damage would be incalculable.

Still, this could be an unparalleled opportunity. If both sides were hiring, they would be desperate for experienced men. Maybe I could play them off each other to get a better offer.

Surei looked off into the distance. “I had a dream last night. There was a couple dressed as members of the nobility. They sat in a beautiful walled garden of sakura and ume trees writing poems. A disturbance started outside the walls, but they paid it no attention and continued with their writing. The commotion became louder and more violent, but they continued to ignore it. Finally, the walls were broken down and rude, armed intruders invaded their paradise, fighting each other and burning the garden to the ground. At the end, the couple stood in the midst of a barren wasteland, their beautiful garments torn and singed, they themselves covered in blood and gore.” She smiled. “I woke up laughing.”

“You wouldn’t want something like that to happen here.” I protested.

Her eyes narrowed. “When my father was convicted of treason, your father was the only person to offer any help after my aunt threw me out. After he was killed, and my money ran out, I went to various friends of the family and relatives for help. None would even come to the gate and speak to me. No one wanted to risk a hint of scandal by associating with the daughter of a traitor.” Her mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “I would love to see them out on the streets. See how well they survive.”

I stared out the window, shocked by her attitude. But I couldn’t blame her.

How could she feel that way about the nobility and spend every day catering to their whims? I looked back at her, but her eyes seemed to have lost focus, her voice took on a singsong quality.

“Burning, burning, it is all burning. And who will be there to see its end?”

A chill came over me. Surei never became an onmyouji—a yin-yang sorcerer—like she planned, but it wasn’t for lack of talent. She really did have magic in her blood. Had she been male, she would have been a powerful sorcerer.

Unfortunately, imperial law prohibited women from studying onmyoudou. Despite her lack of training, she still showed flashes of magical ability and sometimes saw visions. Visions that usually came true.

She blinked and shook her head. Her eyes returned to normal, and she looked at me sharply. "I haven't had a waking vision since you left."

She stared at me, a worried frown crossing her face. "You will have to keep your distance from me around customers. I can't be having these stupid visions around them."

"I didn't do anything," I protested. "I thought you liked being able to see what most people could not. You wanted to be an onmyouji."

Her eyes flashed with anger. "I will never be an onmyouji. They have seen to that. I am not allowed to learn the art." She went on bitterly, "I am a shirabyoushi, and shirabyoushi don't have visions."

Learning to use her magic had been very important to her. What had happened to kill her dream? I looked away. The battle with the pirates had nearly destroyed me. I had never felt like the same person afterwards. Had something similar happened to her? I felt a renewed surge of guilt. Had I come back for her, none of this would have happened.

Surei went on, “Useless things, these visions. Of course, there will be trouble. You don’t need to be an onmyouji to see that. Some people are already packing their valuables and leaving the city. The danger is clear to anyone who cares to look.”

It surprised me how upset I was at the prospect of fighting in the capital. “You’re awfully calm at the thought of Kyoto burning. How can you sit there and not be disturbed by this? What kind of person are you, Surei?”

Surei looked out the window for a bit, then turned back to me. “I’m exactly the kind of person I need to be to get what I want,” she finally said.

She regarded me intently. “Tell me, Yoshi, what kind of person are you, now? Are saké, gambling, and sex the extent of your needs? What do you want, and are you the kind of person who can get it?”

I stared back at her, then said, “What I want is—a name, and I don't seem to be able to get it.”

Surei gave me a quizzical look.

“Let’s just leave it at that.”

We rode the rest of the way in an uncomfortable silence.