After their arrival to the Old Capital, Gintaro and Saru departed early each morning to scour the city for clues to Yukiana’s whereabouts. Nō was left to help with the chores at the inn to lower the price of their stay. He was not incredibly pleased with this assignment, for he also wanted to explore the city, but his teacher demanded that he stay behind to ‘learn how to serve.’
Despite the hard lesson, his teacher did try to make it up to him by giving him a new technique to practice after his chores were done. There was a small garden behind the inn which was enclosed by a wooden wall. In the garden, there were various pruned trees, shrubs, brightly colored chrysanthemums, a few polished stones, and of course a small pond. It was meant to attract the patrons of the inn to a tea garden, but the owners had not tended to it properly, and thus it was largely left unused. Here Gin took ahold of a long wooden log that had been used as a place to sit and set it afloat in the pond.
“I want you to do the same thing I taught you earlier, step and attack, but I want you to do it standing on this log,” he explained.
Nō raised his eyebrow in apprehension, but his youthful pride pushed him to accept the challenge. As soon as he put even one foot on the log, it was upended, and he almost fell in. He jumped back with disgust, as the water was a brown, dirty color, rimmed with algae.
“It cannot be done!” he said furiously, but as the words exited his mouth, Gintaro steadied the log and hopped on. It bobbed a bit, and his muscles worked to keep him balanced, but after a few moments, he was steady. He unsheathed his sword, held it out, and then lifted and brought it down so fast and hard that Nō could feel the wind from the attack standing several feet away. Barely a ripple came off from the log. Gin then turned and hopped off effortlessly.
“If you ever say that again,” his teacher threatened. “I’ll break that wooden sword of yours over your head. Now try it and do not stop trying until you finish the task!”
His harsh words seemed to do the trick and motivate the boy who hesitantly tried again. As Gin walked back to the inn, a loud splash echoed from the pond. “Balance!” was the only reminder he gave for the next several days.
After setting his pupil in order, the next task was to pair up with Saru and purchase disguises. Gin wore the airy outfit of a river fisherman, while Saru chose a simple kimono of a maidservant or gardener. Truth be told, the outfits were rather flimsy, but they were enough to allow them to at least blend in. They then went out to the daytime information hubs: the tea houses, the temples and shrines, and busy markets. No one seemed to know anything about a merchant in black or Yukiana, but some spoke freely of the movements of the Shōgun. Apparently, he had left the Old Capital not so long ago, taking many of the ancient artifacts and texts from the Imperial Palace to his nearly completed castle in the New Capital. This was seen as a kind of scandal from the perspective of the residents of the Old Capital, for they were still rightfully the property of the Imperial House. But since Mashige was now the de-facto ruler of the realm, there was nothing anyone could do to stop him.
As they explored the immense city, Gin came to realize that many things had changed since he had last been there. For one, there was far more poverty in the ancient capital than he had ever seen before. Beggars dotted the busy streets, while many old buildings that had once been famous for their beauty had fallen into disrepair. Those who in the past would have worn the most lavish clothing dressed more conservatively, and there was a general air of anxiety among the merchants. He assumed that this was because of the shift of priority to the New Capital, and the economic strain that had undoubtedly come with that. It was a shame to see, for it seemed to blemish the once proud and wealthy city of his youth.
He also saw that most of the city’s temples were now bereft of their Truist caretakers. The neglect was immediately noticeable, for the once lively precincts were darkened with abandonment. Fortunately, some of the residents, those sympathetic to the Truists or concerned about the history of the ancient buildings, had banded together to keep some of the temples from dilapidation and to protect them from arsonists and robbers. These temples were maintained but no longer functioned as a place of worship or consecration.
Those monks who did stay behind were required to be strong and steadfast, for they had to endure frequent attacks by those who derided them or wanted to loot the treasures within. They were never directly aided by the Shōgun’s patrols, but at times even they would unofficially participate in the attacks. Lingering Truists tended to reside at the temples along the outskirts of the city, and those with walls which were easier to defend. Some temples had already collapsed or burned down, which was a great blow to Gin’s heart, for he had spent many of his former days walking past them, and they were to him as immovable and eternal as the mountains that surrounded the city.
“This new Shōgun seems to be bereft of any sense of history,” he grumbled, as he passed by one such temple that had been raised to the ground. “I understand why he has no love for the Truists, for they opposed him during the war. But to allow these ancient pieces of our history to be destroyed without consequence is unconscionable.”
“Did you expect anything less?” Saru replied. “He was known as the Demon Mashige, after all. But I suspect that you’ll be able to air your grievances to him in person someday soon.”
Gin merely grunted, but a flash of anger lit his eyes.
After nearly two weeks of unsuccessful sleuthing, the swordsman grew increasingly frustrated. They had risked a lot in coming into the city, and he was nervous about pushing their luck. He knew that he must have quite the bounty on his head and in a city of this size, someone would eventually recognize him. He was also concerned that they were losing valuable time. His thoughts became desperate, and he even considered trying to break into the Imperial Palace and Shōgunal estates to find more information. But Saru reminded him that although the city was sparsely guarded, those properties would certainly be well patrolled. She ventured another, less drastic idea.
“We have been speaking with the daytime residents of this city, but I think we should try the nighttime creatures next. Many of the travelers coming in and out of the city from far away, sleep during the day and come out in the evening to enjoy carousing and the unique atmosphere. On top of that, many of the Shōgun’s guards are said to gather in the geisha district. They may know if your daughter is being held here or not and being off duty may loosen their tongues to the truth. Perhaps we will have more luck with them.”
Gintaro agreed to this, although he was reluctant to linger much longer. He had a strong suspicion that Yuki was not in the Old Capital at all, but he was also afraid to leave too hastily, and later find out that he was wrong. “I think I know just the place,” he said at last. “Though it will require a different kind of disguise.”
The following day Gin remained at the inn, while Nō went out back to practice and Saru went out shopping for their new disguises. By evening, both had returned but were in foul moods. Nō looked quite dejected, for he had not yet been able to even stand up on the log, let alone practice on it.
“Not yet,” he said preemptively to his teacher’s searching gaze.
“Balance,” Gin repeated.
Saru also seemed agitated. “This is ridiculous!” she complained, motioning her head towards the bundle of clothes she held, wrapped in a furoshiki, a decorative cloth used to wrap and carry purchases. “I cannot believe you talked me into this!” She quickly unwrapped the bundle and handed Gin his new kimono, a handsome dark blue garment that was made of fine cotton and was well crafted. She then went off in a huff to get changed in the adjacent bathroom, a rule they had made to minimize her habit of unabashed nudity.
The wait was long and tedious, but eventually, Saru did emerge for they could hear the muffled curse words cease and the paper door slide open.
“I cannot do this,” she groaned, as she stepped inside the room. “Just look at this! It's...it’s…”
“Beautiful...” both Gin and Nō said simultaneously. Their eyes were opened wide in disbelief mingled with awe.
Saru stood, dressed in a fine black kimono, patterned with white lilies and red amaryllises. Her hair was pulled up and held with a dark cedar kanzashi, and she wore an ornate red obi, which was tied in a bow behind her. Even her feet were adorned with white socks and black lacquered tabi, which were a kind of formal sandal.
“Stop it!” she shot back. “Now is not the time to kick me when I’m down! Both of you cut it out! Stop looking at me like that. It's embarrassing! I hate wearing these awful, formal things. I always have.”
“No,” the young monk said as if he was observing some kind of natural phenomenon. “Saru, you are beautiful.”
She then looked at Gintaro, who raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Quite lovely,” he added. “You'll fit in perfectly tonight.”
She was not expecting this kind of response and unfolded her matching fan to shield the flush of red that came into her cheeks. “Well,” she said quickly, “Of course I’m beautiful. But don't get all out of sorts just because I have a dress on. You should have been telling me this all the while. I am the same woman in armor as I am now.”
Both men looked as if this was a novel idea for them, and so Saru grunted, turned, and stormed out of the room.
“I’ll be waiting downstairs!” she cried.
Gin met her a few minutes later. He had also changed and bathed earlier in the day so that he looked like a proper city gentleman. He still insisted on bringing his sword but had even spent part of the day polishing the sheath and cleaning out the hardened blood that had worked its way around the hilt.
Saru, who was in a better mood, handed him a fan of his own, and they proceeded along, arm in arm, just as the lamps along the main streets were being lit. It was a warm, late summer evening, but even so, both made light conversation on the way to their destination. They were headed to the famous geisha district in the Old Capital, and once there, to a famous haunt that the powerful and the wealthy called the Soyokaze. The building had endured from what felt like the very beginning and was famous all over the Islands for their supply of the best sake and the occurrence of famous geisha night after night.
They had little money left to them, especially after they were forced to buy fine outfits, so Gin was counting on his knowledge of the city to help them get in. As they came into the geisha district, known colloquially as Gei-machi, they noticed that the streets narrowed considerably and were paved with smooth stones. Here, only the light from the taverns and inns around them illuminated the streets. The roar of laughter and the sound of music playing from within each building was enough to stir the heart and create a unique atmosphere. Since it was a geisha district and the most famous in the Islands, there were many rules to maintain this aesthetic. For example, brothels were expressly forbidden, and although prostitution did happen, it was a quiet affair. Geisha were seen as master musicians and artists and were coveted in a lofty, unattainable sense. They did not take kindly to those who would sully their reputation with the carnal arts.
Eventually, Gintaro could see the high arching roof of the Soyokaze and was delighted to see that it, at least, did not seem affected by the Old Capital’s recent fall. Light poured out from the windows and through the opaque shoji doors. They could see the silhouettes of patrons sitting around laughing merrily while a geisha or maiko, an apprentice geisha, sat amongst them telling stories or singing songs.
“At first, we just watch and listen,” he said under his breath. “Then, we should find an especially inebriated guard, and see if we can get anything from him. There are sure to be travelers from the New Capital and perhaps soldiers as well.”
Saru nodded in silent agreement, as they stepped up to the warm and welcoming doors of the Soyokaze. There was an elaborately dressed hostess admitting guests, and it took some time before it was their turn. Finally, they were next in line, and Gin sauntered up with as much bravado as he could muster.
“Good evening,” the hostess said. She was a gorgeous young woman who was impeccably dressed, but her haughty gaze gave her a sharp edge. “I must apologize, we do not have any room tonight for walk-ins. May I have your name please so I can verify you are on the list?”
“I love the dreams one has in spring, don't you?” he said hopefully, as this used to be the password he had once used for automatic entry to the establishment during the war.
“I am sorry?” the hostess asked, doing little to soften her expression of annoyance. “I need your name, please.”
Gin was visibly deflated that his first attempt was dismissed, but he had assumed the password might have changed in the decade since he had been there last. Luckily, he had a backup plan.
“I know the owner,” he stated, but it sounded more forceful than he intended.
To this, the hostess raised a thin eyebrow. “You do?”
“Yes, of course, we were once quite close,” he replied, smiling awkwardly because he did not know what else to do.
The hostess shot him an incredulous look. “Can you tell me their name, then?”
“Nosaka.”
“Everyone knows that. Their first name please.”
“Ujiro,” Gin answered, as a bead of sweat passed down his forehead. He puffed out his chest, trying to seem as confident as possible.
The hostess sighed. “Master Ujiro retired several years ago. His daughter, Maya, has taken over the business. She rarely allows ‘friends’ to enter anyway. Now, if you are not on the list, please find another establishment to enjoy.”
As Gin tried to argue, a light flashed brightly from within, momentarily illuminating Saru’s face.
The hostess suddenly turned toward her. “You...you are from Akaii Province?” she stammered.
“I am,” Saru said proudly, pulling a lock of hair from the side of her head behind her pointed ear and flashing her a toothy smile.
“It is quite rare for one of your people to visit here,” the hostess said, sounding a bit excited.
“Even rarer to have a princess, I’d imagine. I was sent by my father to make a pilgrimage to the real capital. It is quite lovely, I must say, and I have heard so much about the Soyokaze.”
“Princess?” the hostess whispered, her eyes growing bigger by the moment. “You have heard of us in Akaii Province?”
Saru nodded with a regal disposition. “It is a very well-regarded establishment. I was hoping to sample some of the Old Capital’s finest, and it has always been my delight to hear a real geisha play the koto. We do not have geisha that far north after all, and the New Capital, well, I have heard that they simply cannot compare.”
“Well,” the hostess chirped, inspecting her list with exuberance. “We, unfortunately, do not have any private boxes open this evening, but I am sure we can arrange a table in the dining room. Would that please… Your Highness?”
“It will do,” Saru said indifferently. “Of course, I will need my servant to accompany me.”
The young hostess frowned at Gin but then nodded. “Just give me a moment to see to the preparations.” She then slipped inside the building, leaving them both to take a breath of relief.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
Gintaro shot Saru a fierce glance. “The princess ploy again?”
“It worked this time,” she said with a wink.
The hostess returned within a few minutes and beckoned them inside. An impeccably dressed male servant opened both shoji doors from the center and then bowed low, as they ascended the stairs into the bright light of the Soyokaze.
Once inside, they removed their sandals at the entryway and stepped up into the dining hall. It was an enormous, tatami-floored room packed from one side to the other with low tables and guests sitting and kneeling in every available space. All the while, elegantly adorned geisha and maiko flitted amongst them, telling stories, singing, or playing various instruments. From their vantage, they could see that there was also an upper level, with guests situated around the perimeter. They too were served, but only by maiko, which indicated that these were less expensive seats. Finally, there were private rooms, or boxes, built along the outside of the dining hall. Some of these rooms were open, revealing the guests within, while others were concealed by opaque shoji doors. Each of these special rooms had their own geisha, and every room was occupied.
The noise was almost deafening, but it carried a mirthful tone. Most of the guests were happy, forgetting their worries, and marveling at the skill of the artists at work. But some were undoubtedly whispering about more important affairs, and this is what they were hoping to hear.
The pair was directed to one of the tables in the very center of the room. This was not ideal for staying out of sight, but they were placed next to a small divider so that they at least had cover on one side. They sat across from each other, and Gin slumped his posture to hide as much as possible. He was not happy with this spot at first, but they soon discovered that although it was a conspicuous location, it was also a suitable place for listening, as they could drop in on several different conversations taking place around them.
The food came out quickly, as did the sake, but both listened intently, taking intermittent bites or sips as they could. To Gin’s left, several financiers were decrying the current state of the Old Capital’s economy and the expected decrease in funding that was to come from the Shōgunate in future years. Behind him, a few old baldheads were complaining about the sultry weather. They were comparing this year to every year they had been alive and argued when they differed in recollection. To his right, a group of young couples was sitting so that the women were clustered together on one side, while the men sat on the other. The women chattered on about the latest in beauty rituals and complained about their in-laws, and the men argued about who was the strongest sumo wrestler at the moment while sneaking long glances at the geisha when they had a chance. Behind Saru, the nearest geisha sat, strumming on her shamisen, singing a bawdy while all those in range cheered and clapped along. Among the listeners was a group of soldiers, as they were the loudest and most drunk.
Gintaro turned his ear to listen to the soldiers but was interrupted by Saru who had already downed two bottles of sake and was midway through her third. Her face was flushed, and her dark eyes seemed to linger on him without blinking.
“You called me beautiful today,” she said, eyeing him carefully.
“I believe that was Nō,” he replied briskly, closing his eyes so that he could listen through the din.
Saru slammed her hand down on the wooden table. “You said lovely. It's the same thing!”
Gin opened his eyes and looked at her. She was close to losing her temper, and he knew that if it was difficult enough to calm her down without the sake, it would be nearly impossible with it. He smiled and gave up on spying on the soldiers for the time being.
“So I did, and so you are,” he quickly replied.
She looked as if this answer pleased her initially, but then grew to dislike it as the moments passed. She squinted her eyes at him and took another sip. “You’re a hard man to read. Don’t you ever, you know, think about the fairer passion?”
“If by the fairer passion you mean love, then no,” he answered stiffly. “I am just trying to save my daughter, Saru. You know that.”
“I know, I know,” she repeated, looking like a loyal puppy that had just been disciplined. “But out there in the wilds, do you ever feel the...a fleeting desire come over you? We eat, sleep, fight, and bathe right next to each other. Do you know what I mean?”
He considered for a moment. He had to walk a careful line, or their entire evening could be ruined, and any chance to hear news would be dashed. “As I said before,” he ventured cautiously. “I am just a man. I have desires, the same as any other man.”
“Do you desire me?”
Gin was stunned. She had asked the fateful question. But before he could even consider a response, a voice rang through the hall, commanding their attention.
“Listen! Listen! Ladies and gentlemen! Lend me your eyes and ears! For I, the lovely and exceedingly virtuous Momoko of the Seven Sparrows shall recite for you a tale that is both of wonder and tragedy!”
A stunningly beautiful maiko, dressed in a white and pink colored kimono, with a white painted face, and rouge on her lips, moved towards the center of the room, until she stopped, and bowed low. There was something familiar about her, or so Gin thought. Upon rising again, she continued. “It is a tale, mind you, that is going on even as we sit here and drink from our cups. A tale that involves us all and speaks to the evil of our days. It is a tale of a father who had lost his child. No - a tale of a father robbed of his only daughter!”
At this, both Gin and Saru glanced at each other with wide eyes. He suddenly remembered where he recognized this woman from. She was one of Kaya’s girls who had come across the strait from Kagiminato. But they could do nothing but listen, for the building was now hushed with silence, except for a few hiccups and whispers from the periphery.
“It is the tale of the legendary swordsman known as the Raijin, the Thunderlord, the last Captain of the Kurogumi!” On the last syllable, her hands shot up into the air, opening two crescent, folding fans for added effect. The crowd went wild and whooped and hollered, as this had obviously become a favorite story in the Old Capital.
The maiko moved forward and slowly stepped through the aisles between tables as the noise died down. “The Raijin, as you know, was the fearsome captain of the dreadful Kurogumi,” she began once again. His prowess with the sword was said to be unmatched. Even his master, Lord Yoshimitsu Akira, feared him and his skill. But, as he was a noble retainer, he met his end defending his master’s keep. He died during the siege of Yoshimitsu Castle, along with the rest of the Kurogumi. However, he had a secret! He had a daughter, the apple of his eye, growing up in the idyllic countryside, raised by monks and nuns, and educated in the ways of wisdom and purity.”
“Much like you were, Momoko-chan!” one man shouted from the top level, and the rest of the room roared with laughter.
Momoko fanned the nape of her neck with one hand while shielding her lower half with the other. “As you say!” she said with a wink and a smile.
Once the laughter had died down enough, she continued. “His daughter grew up healthy and strong and was kind to all she met. But one day, our honorable Shōgun was passing through, on his way to rob our fair city of what little treasure we have left.”
“Boo!” echoed the room, while they fanned their noses as if a great reek had been let in.
“I haven't even gotten to his true misdeeds yet!” Momoko cried with a grin, but the angry cries continued to rain down.
“Stop pillaging our city!” shouted one man.
“Take the old women but not our gold!” cried another.
“Alright, alright,” the maiko eventually repeated, urging the house to calm down. “You’re missing the point! He came, and he saw the fair maiden, sitting on a hill of grass and lavender, and his heart was turned to greed and covetousness. He thought that she might be the one to finally bear him an heir. So, he took her for himself!”
“Boo!” the house cried once again. “He always takes! He always takes!”
“Now, now!” Momoko cried in response, but by the pitch of her voice, she was reaching a crescendo. She stepped up on top of a table, a rare thing for a maiko to do, but everyone was so enraptured in her tale that they paid no mind. “The All-kami,” she continued, “Saw this great injustice from heaven and could not bear it! So, he brought back her dear father, the Raijin himself, from the grave. From Mt. Omukae he came forth, and in his hand was placed a sword of shining steel. He came down from the mountain and smote the vassal of the Shōgun in Kagiminato, and his wrath was so fierce that it nearly consumed the city in flames. I was there! I saw it to be true!”
“Did you see him?” someone cried. “Did you see the Raijin?”
“I did,” Momoko answered, nodding her head slowly. “Only briefly.”
“What was it like?” another asked.
“I should have been afraid, terrified even, but I wasn't. It was like when one sees a great eagle high in the sky, and knows it has the unmatched ability to kill, to take life, but also knows that there is nothing to fear, for I am not its prey. I had no reason to fear him, and neither should you. But listen! My story is not yet finished. For the Raijin did not linger in Kagiminato. He crossed the strait next. There it is said that he did battle with a great yomi that has haunted the waters there for many months. In doing so, he opened the way east for ships to travel. Many of you know this to be true, for trading junks now come into Yoshimitsu Bay from Kagiminato and Matsuyama. Such a thing has not been done in some time. You see, he is not just out for revenge, but to stand up for all those oppressed by the Shōgun’s belligerent ways.”
“He’s a hero!” one shouted, and to this, many lifted their glasses and gave a toast. “To the Raijin!”
Throughout this entire monologue, Gin hunched low, doing his best to avoid eye contact. Inside he seethed with anger, for the apprentices of Kaya were going too far in telling his story out in the open like this. It was a miracle that no one in the city had noticed him yet. Even Saru was as white as a ghost. Both breathed a sigh of relief as the maiko stepped down from the table, apparently finished with her tale.
However, she was not completely finished. She spun around dramatically and peered into the crowd which had become silent once again. “He is coming! The Raijin is coming! He is coming for the Shōgun and all the unjust in this land! Be warned and do good and not evil. Yes, he may even be in our fair city this very night, perhaps he is even among us right now!”
She accented her last word as a true storyteller would, sending the entire room into a frenzy. After a few minutes of raucous laughter and feigned fright, the crowd settled back down to a dull roar. Smiling to herself, she bowed low, indicating that her time was up, and everyone in the room clapped heartily.
Gintaro cleared his throat and took a deep breath.
“Wait a minute!” a deep voice shouted, piercing through the din. It had come from one of the Shōgun’s soldiers. “Isn’t that - isn’t that the Raijin?” He was facing Gin’s direction.
“Where?” another called out.
“Right there!” the soldier answered, rising to his feet. “It looks just like him! That has to be him!”
Gin’s face drained of all color, and his pupils dilated. They had been caught. Instinctively, he lowered his hand below the table to where his sword was lying.
“Shut your mouth, you ugly oaf!” a man, two tables behind Gintaro cried, rising to his feet. “You’re just jealous that I got some nice company here and you’re stuck with the juniors over there!” The man who stood up was tall and had long, dark hair, but otherwise bore no resemblance to Gintaro. However, he was flanked by two beautiful young women. “You need to take the uniforms off! Nobody around here goes for that kind of thing. You’re not in the New Capital, are you?”
Jeers from all corners of the hall were directed at the embarrassed soldier in the center of the room, and he plopped back down, defeated.
Gin breathed out through pursed lips. “That was too close,” he whispered to Saru.
“I know,” she agreed. “We need to get out of here, but not yet, while it's still fresh in their minds.”
They waited around for about half an hour, as the roar of voices grew louder, and then stood and made their way back towards the exit. In the foyer, they signaled to one of the servants that they were ready to pay for their expenses when a strange voice came from behind.
“Excuse me sir, but may I have a word?”
Gintaro turned around with his hand at the ready. He saw two young men standing side by side. They were tall and slender but most notably, they were identical twins. Not only were they identical twins, but they were dressed in matching indigo kimono, and had the same shoulder-length hair, which was grey, almost white. Their unusual hairstyle partly covered their eyes, giving them a mysterious disposition. Gin had another feeling that he should remember these men, but at that moment, he could not recall where or when he had met them.
“I apologize,” he responded, “We were just taking our leave.”
“My father would greatly like to speak with you,” the second twin interposed. “He told us that he never forgets a good face, even if the world around him has.”
Gintaro raised an eyebrow and lifted his arm to stop Saru from marching forward aggressively.
“Who is your father?” he asked.
“The Lord of Usagi Province,” the first of the brothers said. “He is here in a private box.”
“He said that he may be able to help you,” the other followed.
“Help me?” Gin thought to himself. “The Lord of Usagi? The White Rabbit?”
“You may bring your weapon if you are distrustful of us. But I swear we mean you no harm. This place is quite anonymous and safe, as you well know.”
Gin turned and looked back at Saru, who was less than eager to follow them.
He thought for a moment and then said, “We will come.”
“We?” the second brother asked, his face was expressionless, but his tone indicated displeasure.
“We go together or not at all,” Gin firmly insisted.
The two brothers glanced at each other for a moment and then bowed simultaneously. “As you say.”
They followed the twins along the periphery of the room until they reached a pair of sliding paper doors along the far wall. Both brothers took one of the doors and opened them, guiding the two inside.
Within the box, there was a thick haze of incense smoke. It was not a large room, there was space enough for about ten people tightly packed. Several men who looked to be soldiers or guards sat around the table, and one geisha knelt amongst them. The table was filled with bowls, dishes, and cups, and there were several sticks of incense lit. At the head of the table sat a small, wizened figure with a wrinkled face and thin tufts of white hair atop a bald head. He leaned forward, casting a jovial smile upon the guests.
“Come in! Come in! Sit down, please! All the rest of you, everyone besides my two sons here, leave us! Go on! Get up! Go!”
Gin and Saru sat down at the near head of the table, opposite the old men, while the rest of the group slowly rose and staggered out. The twins took their places beside their old father. Gin could now see the emblem of the leaping rabbit upon the old man’s left and right arm, which was proof enough of his identity, though he had met this man before. This was indeed the old daimyō of Usagi Province.
When the room had finally cleared out, the old daimyō remained still, staring at Gintaro with a broad smile. He was exceedingly old and shook in his right arm so that his dutiful sons had to assist him in pouring a cup of sake. He brought it to his lips with his left hand.
“Ah!” the daimyō said at last. “Delicious! I may be old, eighty-eight to be exact, but I still enjoy the entertainment of the Soyokaze.” He paused, and slowly lowered the small, earthenware cup. “But I do not think that I’ve ever been more entertained than this very evening.”
Gin shifted uncomfortably. “Where is he going with this?” he thought.
“I watched a man hear his own legend being told right in front of him,” the daimyō continued. “That is not something you get to see every day. Especially now when most legends are long passed from this world.”
Gintaro did his best not to show any expression, but the tiny, beady eyes of the old lord were upon him, analyzing him, attempting to read him like a book.
“Your sons said that you might be able to help us,” Gin started, interrupting the silence.
“I might,” Usagi replied crisply. “It all depends on you.”
“I do not understand.”
“Who are you?” the old man asked.
Gin paused before answering. “I thought you knew. Is that not why you brought me here?”
Usagi grinned. “I recognized you as soon as you entered the hall and thought it an auspicious event. You see, I just arrived here on my way back to my home province. I have come directly from the New Capital. I needed a night of refreshment, for I have traveled without ceasing over the last few weeks. Yet I will not linger here overlong, for there is a war coming.”
“War?”
“Yes, a war,” Usagi repeated. “The barbarian armada is sailing east. The small measure of peace we had is almost over, if not already gone. But I am afraid it is not as simple as that. Plans put into place even before the beginning of the War of Ashes are now coming to fruition. That is especially evident, now that I have seen your face.”
Gintaro shook his head. “What do you mean?”
Usagi’s face darkened and his tremor increased. “Come now, Gin-san! Last time we met I understood you to be a man of intelligence as well as skill. Haven't you ever asked yourself why they took your daughter and why they are keeping her at the New Capital?”
At this Gin lurched forward, grabbing the table’s edge. “You know of my daughter? Did you see her? Is she alive?”
Usagi stiffened slightly. “I saw her, yes, at the Council of Lords.”
“Council of Lords?” Gin stammered. “When? Is she all right?”
“She was among those working for Lady Ishihara, the Shōgun’s prime consort. I guessed it so by the strange way the Shōgun looked at her when your name was mentioned. She also looked just like her mother did, especially dressed as she was. I believe she will be safe, for now. As long as you stay alive.”
Gin sat back, dazed by this news.
“She’s alive!” Saru whispered giddily, grasping Gin’s arm with excitement.
“And this is all true?” he asked, his chest heaving.
“Why would I lie? I have no love for our Shōgun, as you should remember. I fought against him in the war, and he took quite a few of my own children from me. Those I will never get back.”
Gin studied the daimyō intently. “Then I must go to the New Capital immediately.”
“Yes,” the old man agreed. “You should indeed. But how will you get there, eh? The roads are littered with checkpoints. Would you cut through the wilds and climb the Koyama mountains? That would take weeks upon weeks, and by then your daughter may very well be dead. You could go to Yoshimitsu Harbor and try to get passage to the New Capital, but that is expensive and dangerous, and they are expecting you to come that way.”
“Then what do you recommend?”
“You should take the highroad. The last way they would expect you to come is always the safest. It's the fastest way by land if you have good horses.”
“But you just said that I would never make it past the checkpoints!”
At this, the old man smiled and motioned for his sons to pour him another cup. “I could give you horses and papers to get you through the checkpoints. As you learned tonight, none but a few would recognize you outright, and even if they are looking for you, they would never expect you to have official letters, signed by me.”
Gintaro was stunned. “You would do that?”
The old man took a long sip, and he smiled a nearly toothless smile. His eyes seemed to sparkle in the candlelight. “Not for free.”
Gin’s heart fell. “It is never that easy,” he thought.
“My strength is nearly spent,” the old man explained. “And soon, my two sons here will gain control of my domain. But they are still young and have much to learn, for they did not take part in the war. I want you to give them a lesson in the way of the sword.”
Now it was Gin’s turn to smile. “Is that all?”
Usagi’s black eyes seemed to grow even darker at that moment. “I also want to make sure that I am not wasting my resources on a man who used to be the Raijin. The story was indeed quite entertaining, but I am no fool. I want to see it with my own eyes. Prove to me you are the Gintaro of old with a demonstration, and I will gladly speed you on your way.”
Gin did not need much time to think about it, now that he knew his daughter was still alive and where she was. “I accept.”
“Good!” said Usagi with a satisfied grin. “Tomorrow, at three o’clock in the afternoon, come to the Kōto Dōjō in the North District. Be prepared for a good match.”
The subtle way he said this caused Saru to glance over at Gin nervously, but the swordsman showed no signs of hesitation. “I will be there. But do not try and betray me, old friend.” Gin’s eyes appeared to glint in the dim haze of the room.
Usagi forced a grim smile, but his eyes wavered, for he remembered all too well the blood on the mat before the dais of the Shōgun.