The experienced hawk conceals his claws.

—Japanese saying

Paulo

I had never trained anyone in arms before, and after a couple of sessions with my nephews, it occurred to me that I might not be the best teacher for them. Teaching, as it turned out, was a lot harder than it looked. I was up before dawn every day and arrived at the estate just as the gates were opening. This gave me time to prepare my mind and review the kata I would teach the boys that day.

The boys had very different styles. While Miguel showed little interest in the instruction, he struggled to do everything perfectly.

Mateus was full of enthusiasm and a danger to everyone in the training yard. He fought like he learned his techniques from other boys in the street. I was forced to give him more than a few bruises before he started listening, and even then, he still made wild swings when he got excited.

“Mateus, you need to focus more on the conflict. You are allowing your emotions to rule you, and small things to distract you. Think only on what is in front of you.”

Now, if only I could have followed my own advice while fighting Masakado.

Mateus took another wild swing that almost hit his brother in the head. I knocked the bokuto out of his hand and glared at him.

Did Estêvão work with Mateus at all? It is almost as though he just let the boy play rather than forcing him to practice.

After we finished our session and the boys left, I spoke with Grandfather. “I couldn’t have been this bad when I was their age. You would have killed me.”

The old man threw back his head and guffawed at my comment. Instead of answering, he just shook his head and walked back to the house, still laughing.

A servant came hurrying up.

“Excuse me, sir. Your presence is requested in the house. Your mother said to tell you the monks will soon be here for the seventh-day memorial ceremonies.”

I sighed.

Shimatta. Isn’t there some way I can avoid this? No, if Mother can sit through another Buddhist ceremony, so can I.

The ceremony took most of the day. Reading sutras, chanting invocations, burning incense, it was all just the usual Buddhist nonsense to me.

When the service ended, it was already getting dark. The Advanced Confucian Philosophy class I was supposed to teach would be starting soon. I went upstairs and picked up the last of the notes that Gracia and I had made.

She came into the room carrying two packages wrapped in silk. She handed me one. “You keep leaving the tea we gave you here because you say you don’t have a pot.” She held up the other. “This is an old pot we don’t use anymore, so I am sending it home with you.”

I smiled in thanks at her, then headed out. I was almost to the door when my mother caught me.

“Paulo,” she said, “I am worried about your work at the Academy. I understand your desire to avenge Estêvão. God help me, I want to see him avenged, too. But I can’t lose another son. You are all we have left. Don’t you see that?”

I stopped, torn between the need to hurry to the Academy and trying to get her to understand.

My father’s voice came sharply from behind her. “He has a sworn duty to his brother, Maria. Let him go and do what he has to.”

I gave my mother a quick hug. “Grandfather always says, ‘Those who cling to life die, those who defy death live.’ But I promise to be careful.”

*****

The cool summer twilight was a relief after the heat of the day. It made for a pleasant walk as I wove my way through the byways of Edo to the Academy. The evening crowds were out in force, and the air was filled with the smell of cooking. People thronged the streets looking for someplace to eat or drink, or were just out walking to view the sunset.

I tried to commit Gracia’s notes to memory, but it was difficult while walking. Between passers-by jostling me, a dog almost tripping me, and slow-moving peddler’s carts, I could hardly concentrate on the scroll. Fortunately, there were enough shop lanterns and street lamps along my route to allow me to read my notes, even in the dusky gloom.

It was nearly dark as I neared the gate to the Workers Association. The streets in this part of Edo were much less crowded than those I had traveled on my way there.

A whirring sound came from behind me, and I found myself lying face-down in the road, unable to move my feet. The force of my fall knocked the breath out of me, and I dropped the scroll, the teapot, and the tea Gracia had prepared for me.

Struggling to breathe, I tried to rise, but my feet were pinned together by a chain wrapped around them. Someone had thrown a weighted chain, catching me around the ankles. When I managed to get to my knees, a huge man slammed into my side, knocking me down again and landing on top of me. I struggled to push him away and reach my weapons, but could barely move.

The pounding of running feet marked the arrival of more men. With the uncanny instinct of city dwellers anxious to avoid trouble, even the light crowds around me had vanished. The man on top of me got off, and two others grabbed my arms and hauled me to my feet. The binding on my ankles had loosened. I tried kicking one of them. The big man stepped forward and slammed his fist into the side of my head. The world went black. All I saw were flashes of light. Within a few moments, I was completely trussed up.

One man yanked the swords from my obi while the two holding me roughly dragged me across the ground.

I managed to croak out, “What? Who—”

“Quiet!” came the command from the figure at the front. “Someone wishes to ask you some questions.”

Are they police? Secret police? The secret police did question Estêvão. I guess this is progress.

I was tossed against something hard and managed to struggle to a sitting position.

My vision began to clear. They had stuffed me into a bamboo cage hung on a long pole. I got a better look at the five men who had captured me. Four of them were typical police constables, probably low-level samurai with specialized training in apprehending people without killing them. The last man, however, was a sumo wrestler. I had to admire the utility of their approach. I never realized I was under attack until it was too late for me to do anything about it.

One of the men grabbed up the scroll I had been studying, but they left the tea lying in the middle of the road.

“Wait! The tea!” I gasped. “Someone get my tea.”

They ignored me. Not only was I losing the tea, but the pot appeared to have shattered when I dropped it.

Two bearers grabbed the ends of the pole and lifted the bamboo cage with a groan. I saw some faces peeking through the gate of the Edo Workers Association, watching as I was carried off.

At least I won’t have to teach that lesson tonight. People can hardly fault me for missing class when the police arrested me on the way to the Academy.

I tried to find a comfortable way to sit, but the basket poked me with every jolt or bump.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

I’ll bet that Estêvão, the grandson of the Tiger in the Shadows, wasn’t arrested like this when they picked him up. They probably just asked him politely to join them.

I battled the anger and fear inside me. I needed a clear head. This was hardly the first time I had been picked up by the police. Wandering ronin are always the first suspects when a crime has been committed. I knew what they were doing. At best, this was going to be painful.

I tried to figure out what they wanted with me. My primary purpose in agreeing to take Estêvão’s place at the Confucius Academy was to continue doing the things he had been doing in the hope that I could draw out whoever killed him. However, I still had doubts that anyone in the secret police had killed Estêvão. They still feared Grandfather. At least, I hoped so.

We passed the local police box. That was no surprise. They would not have bothered with a palanquin for such a short distance. When we turned left toward the docks, I began to worry.

The Municipal Hall of Justice was in the other direction. This wasn’t going to be official. That was bad, because I hadn’t committed any major crimes so the police wouldn’t have any reason to do much to me.

But it was the secret police who took me, and they were a completely different matter. They might have decided I needed to disappear. Or they might just have some questions. In that case, my answers would decide if I walked out of there or not and in what condition.

I yelled at the leader of the group, “Hey, could I get some cushions in here? The ride’s a little bumpy.”

He turned around and almost said something, but pressed his lips together and turned back.

Yeah, secret police.

Of course, the secret police had no idea I was Estêvão’s brother, and I would prefer to keep it that way. I was afraid if our relationship got out, that it would make it more challenging to discover what happened to him. But that also meant that they wouldn’t know I was the grandson of the Tiger in the Shadows. So I was without that protection. Who do they think I am?

This is not the proper treatment for a respected Confucian scholar, so they must have discovered I was lying about that. This is more like the treatment of a troublemaking ronin.

I needed to concoct a new story to tell the secret police. I decided to act dumb.

Grandfather would claim it’s not much of an act.

After an eternity of painful jouncing, we arrived at a nondescript building in the warehouse district. At a sharp word from the leader, the bearers set the cage down, and one of the other men cut the rope holding the panel shut. I was lying against the panel. With the rope cut, the door popped open, and I flopped onto the road.

Hopefully, we get past the “abuse poor Paulo” stage and move to the “ask Paulo some questions” phase soon.

The four constables laughed at my efforts to lift my face from the dirt of the thoroughfare. After a few moments, two men, still chuckling at my plight, grabbed me under my arms. Holding me between them, they dragged me into the building and dumped me in a large, nearly empty room. My already aching head bounced against the floor. I looked up from the rough, wooden planks and watched a man cross the room to where I was lying. He was young, conservatively dressed, and wore the twin swords of a samurai. He looked like a bureaucrat. If I hadn’t been bound, I would have enjoyed challenging him to a duel to wipe that satisfied look off his face.

This is the one I have to convince.

He bent over to look me in the eye. “You claim to be a Confucian scholar named Matsura?”

“Yes.”

Without any change in expression, he kicked me in the stomach. “We have made some inquiries around Edo, and not one of the Confucian scholars in the city has ever heard of you. Now, who are you and why are you working at the Confucian Academy?”

Oh yes, the before-interrogation beating. Let’s hope I can get this over quickly.

It was a while before I could answer, but once my whooping ended, I managed to choke out, “I am just trying to help a friend.” He cocked his foot back to kick me again.

I twisted around so that the blow hit my arm instead of my stomach. In a voice a bit higher and louder than I intended, I continued, “Really! I heard they needed someone to fill in as acting headmaster for the Confucian Academy until they could find someone to act as the permanent head.”

He cocked his head to one side. “Why do you care about that?”

Maybe if I cower a little, that will distract them.

Still having trouble breathing, I wriggled on the floor, trying to get some slack in the rope. “Please, I’ll tell you anything you want, but can I just get out of these?”

He considered me for a moment, then gave a sharp nod. Two of my captors loosened the ropes that bound me. I sat up. It was a tremendous relief to finally be able to take a deep breath.

The interrogator said impatiently, “Answer my question before I tie you back up again.”

“I know a bit about Confucianism, and I thought I could step in and help them out, and maybe they wouldn’t need to find anyone else. The Academy is housed in the same building as the Edo Workers Association, and the oyabun of the association, Tomio, is an enthusiastic supporter of the school. I figured I could do worse than to get in the good graces of one of the richest men in Edo.”

My questioner seemed dubious. “You hope to win the leadership position for yourself? What do you know about Confucianism?”

“Well, I studied it when I was younger. I think I could do the job.”

He thought about this for a few moments. “What are the Four Virtues?”

Not that question again. I really should have looked that up today.

“Uh, honesty, loyalty, righteousness, and thrift.”

He shook his head, amazed. “That would be loyalty, filial piety, righteousness, and moderation. Do you know anything about Confucianism?”

“I got half of them right.”

Why does everyone keep asking me that?

The policeman who had picked up my notes at the academy was looking through them. He walked over and silently handed it to my interrogator. He opened it. His eyebrows rose higher on his forehead the longer he read. Looking up from the scroll, he asked me, “What is this?”

“Those are my notes for the Advanced Confucian Ideals class.”

“Really? Advanced Confucian Ideals? They look like a schoolboy’s notes for his exam on basic Confucianism. I don’t think you know anything about Confucianism at all.”

I couldn’t keep the hurt out of my voice. “I just needed to study up to refresh my memory.”

He leaned forward. “What were you planning to do, stay one lesson ahead of the class and hope that no one noticed that you knew nothing?” He waved his hand in dismissal. “It is not important. I don’t care if you are ignorant.”

He grabbed the front of my kimono. “Answer this one honestly, and I might let you leave alive. Why are you investigating the death of the previous head of the academy?”

How did he know?

“I heard he was murdered. That worried me. I wanted to know why…”

He narrowed his eyes and studied me carefully.

He’s not quite buying it…

“I might have to leave town in a hurry if there was real trouble there,” I added.

He gave me a scornful laugh. “Today, you are a fortunate man, because I am giving you the chance to save your life. I am telling you right now that the Confucius Academy does have real trouble. Leave Edo in a hurry. If you aren’t out of the city by noon tomorrow, you will join the previous headmaster.”

Hmmm, maybe the secret police did kill my brother. It certainly sounds like they were involved in his death.

I cringed and tried to look terrified. That seemed to satisfy the bureaucrat. “Let him go.”

I congratulated myself on how well I had handled things so far.

That didn’t go nearly as badly as the last couple of times.

The man standing by the door to the street opened it and motioned for me to leave. I stepped outside. They threw my swords onto the ground after me. Seething at the disrespect, I grabbed them and returned them into my obi.

Self-satisfied, spineless, bureaucrats. I should go back in there and kill the lot of them. It would be easy. Maybe.

A rash act like that wouldn’t get me any closer to finding who killed my brother. It would make me a wanted man and I would have no chance of finding his killer. I lifted my hand and gingerly felt the side of my head. My shoulder throbbed in response to the movement and pain shot through my head at the light touch. I staggered off down the street.

That arrogant bureaucrat would find out soon enough that I had no intention of disassociating myself from the Confucian Academy or leaving town. What would they do then? Probably send a shinobi assassin.

Well, that shinobi may be in for a surprise. I’ll keep my eyes open and my wits about me. I am not such an easy target as some they have taken before.

I walked back to my lodgings at the saké house. When I arrived, I called my landlord over. “I think that there may be someone looking for me. I want you to keep a close eye out. If anyone strange or out of place comes in tonight, I want to know about it.” I slipped three silver monme into his hands. “There will be three more for you if you see anything. If anything strange occurs, come and get me immediately. Also,” I gave him another two silver monme, “I want to send a message to the Maeda estate in Akusaka. Summon a messenger, and I will have a note for him when he arrives.”

In my room, I fashioned a short letter to my grandfather telling him that I would be unable to make it to the house to supervise the boy’s training the next day. I begged him to run them through some drills for me, and that I would explain the next time I saw him. I certainly didn’t want any possible assassins following me back to my family, so I would just have to avoid them until I dealt with the problem.

The messenger arrived, and I went downstairs to give him the missive and the recipient’s address.

Back in my room, I fastened all the doors and windows shut. I had an uneasy sleep that night, stirring at every unknown noise until the morning.