Read The Way of the Fox Online

Authors: Paul Kidd

The Way of the Fox (28 page)


No, Kuno san. He was in service to the Usagi – the rabbit clan. They had many, many families of human retainers. A wonderful family – very kind.”

Sad memories hung upon the air. Troubled, t
he old woman sat and watched the townsfolk go by.


This town has never been rich, Kuno san. But we made do. The Usagi were ours, and we were theirs. They never deserved what happened to them – nor did we deserve our fate. The Raiden are harsh masters.”

Kuno looked along the street
again. The children of the local poor played safely in the old woman’s garden – clearly fed and clothed by whatever she could arrange. Kuno nodded in approval.

“The Usagi are still well served,
honoured grandmother. Very well served.”

The old woman bowed, deeply touched. But she sighed – bowed down with sadness, and looked towards the terrible black castle.

“Thank you, Asodo san. The heart of a samurai must be that of compassion. Duty is endless.” She seemed tired – worn out by fighting to sustain the people against the Raiden and their misrule. “There are times that I wonder. Perhaps the soul of loyalty would have been to die with the Usagi family. Now the Usagi curse seems to have come home.”

Kuno regarded the garden, then the town with its once-beautiful houses. He drew his brows into a frown.

“It does not seem right, honoured grandmother. If the Usagi family were as you say, I hardly think that their souls would wish harm upon their old retainers.


Can you tell me in more detail about the victims of the ghosts? It is terrible for a community to suffer such tragedies.”

The old woman sadly shook her head.
“Ah! The deaths in the town are disturbing, Kuno san, but they are not tragedies. The child recently lost in the forest, and the men who died trying to find her – now
those
are tragedies.” She turned to look over towards the dark leaves of the forest, far across the fallow fields.” Things seem to be growing ever worse. The forest has been deadly ever since the Usagi fell, twenty years ago. But the other deaths – no, they are more recent. It as if something horrible has awakened.”

She
took hold of a walking stick and leaned upon it, gazing off towards the town in dissatisfaction.


Our first three deaths came all in one night, two years ago. Three youths – fifteen years old or so. They were no good! Bullies and ruffians. They would beat up girls who were running market errands for the courtesans and the merchants and take their money. But they all died in one night. Not a mark on them, except for looks of terror frozen forever on their faces.


Three months later, we had a young courtesan – found dead in her own room. The next was a laundry woman one year ago – a ghastly woman – a gossip and a sneak! She even sold information to the Raiden castle! Then a ronin died not three months ago. A ruffian, always drunk, fighting, always trying to have his way with girls! So you see, none of them will be sorely missed.” The old woman frowned. “But they all died alone and unseen. Always at night. And all with the same look of raw terror.”

Kuno nodded, carefully pondering the information. Possible patterns were there – but he was not entirely certain what it all might presage. Disturbed and puzzled, Kuno sifted it all in his mind, but a growing noise from the street finally
broke his chain of thought.

A pair of pack horses
were carrying what seemed to a collection of small water skins. Six Raiden foot soldiers escorted the horses, and a Raiden samurai in full armour commanded the detail.

A vegetable vendor’s cart blocked the narrow lane. A great plodding, sloe-eyed oxen was harnessed to the cart, and the animal’s presence seemed to somehow terrify the horses. The pack horses stamped and edged back, jamming themselves in against an overgrown old fence.
Furious foot soldiers tried to disentangle the beasts. The vegetable vendor tried to calm the oxen, which had begun to champ and toss its horns. Raiden foot soldiers roared at the vegetable vendor, making the oxen stamp and back away, jamming the cart hard against a house. The Raiden samurai pointed to the oxen and bellowed at the flustered peasant.


Imbecile! Get that animal out of the way! Quickly.”

“Yes samurai!” The vegetable vendor waved a hand, bobbing in fright, desperately trying to placate both the oxen and the samurai at the same time. “
The beast is excited. Please do not shout! It will only take a moment.”

The samurai immediately turned and snarled to his men.

“Kill it and drag it away!”

A Raiden
foot soldier drew his sword and headed straight towards the oxen. The vegetable vendor ran up into the man’s way, bobbing and pleading.


Samurai san! This ox is my livelihood! Please, just a moment and I will lead him aside!”

The
Raiden foot soldier killed the man with one vicious blow of his sword.

On the porch nearby, Kuno leapt to his feet. The old woman stared at the slaughtered man, screaming in shock and horror. Townsfolk raced
into the street and stopped in shock, appalled at the murder.

The old woman ran forward as swiftly as she could.

“Toto san!”

The oxen wrenched and broke free, blundering through a fence. The vegetable cart overturned, cracking and crashing. Jars of pickled vegetables
smashed to the ground, spilling out into the road. Salt, vinegar, vegetables and shattered pottery cascaded out – the pack horses bucked and collided. Grief stricken, the old woman threw herself down and cradled the dead man, soaking her robes in his blood. She rocked the body back and forth, utterly horrified.


Toto san! Oh, Toto san!”

The Raiden
foot soldier stood over the old woman and flicked blood from his sword.


Out of the way!”

The old woman
continued to rock the dead man back and forth, utterly grief stricken. The Raiden soldier set himself in front of her, raising his sword.

“Get out of the way, old bat!
Move, or you’ll join him!”

Moving quietly out fro
m the garden, Asodo Kuno stepped sternly between the old woman and the soldier. Controlled and immaculate, he fixed the soldier with piercing eyes – his face dignified, tightly controlling his sense of disgust.


This woman is samurai of good lineage.” Kuno made a bow – perfectly and absolutely courteous. “Please treat her with respect. Allow her to bear off the body of her neighbour in peace.”

The soldier’s knuckles went white about his sword.

“Do you need a lesson too?”

The man cut viciously at Kuno. Not bothering to draw his
own blade, Kuno stepped forward and spun into the blow. He threw the foot soldier to the ground in one smooth, fluid movement, stripping the man’s sword from his hand. The soldier crashed into the broken jars, landing hard. Kuno tossed the man’s blade away.

Two more soldiers instantly attacked. Kuno stepped into one, ramming the hilt of his sheathed sword into the man’s middle. His opponent collapsed, retching. The third man fought past his
staggering comrade and made a clumsy cut at Kuno’s head. Kuno stepped away, the incoming blade hissing well past him. The soldier tried to turn into him: Kuno caught him, swept him about, and threw the man hard onto his back in the blood. Calm, centred and precise, Kuno was beautiful to behold.

The remaining Raiden soldiers stared, half started forward,
then hesitated. The samurai held them back. Kuno did not deign to glance at his fallen opponents: instead, he gave a short bow to the Raiden samurai.

“Colleague – your men have stumbled.” Kuno settled his sword sheath immaculately back into its place. “
Your men’s passions have unbalanced them. They are in need of training.”

The samurai flicked a glance at the pack horses, then saw that the lane was clear at last. He looked down to his fallen men and snarled at them as they floundered.

“Get up you fools. We are wasting time.”

The group prepared to leave, taking the horses off down the lane towards the forest.
Fallen men picked themselves up out of the dirt. Kuno turned away, walking towards the old woman, rolling back his sleeves to help her bear her murdered neighbour away.

The first of the fallen Raiden
foot soldiers rolled over in the muck and seized his fallen sword. He rose up, lunging instantly for Kuno, blade raised to strike him from behind.

Lightning fast, Kuno
drew his sword and parried the overhead blow. He span, sword lifting high, spinning the Raiden’s blade aside. Kuno’s sword sliced down, blindingly fast. It was all over in a stunning flicker of an eye. The Raiden soldier staggered backwards a foot or so, already dead. He fell against a pack horse, his blade tip making a puncture at the top of one of the water skins. The soldier crashed to the ground, a look of absolute disbelief frozen on his face.

Kuno had
already elegantly spun his sword in his hand – the motion polite and restrained. He sheathed his sword with firm, almost meditative care, not looking at the fallen man – knowing him to be dead.

The other soldiers drew their swords. Kuno tilted his head, watching them with a
level glance, utterly unruffled. Their samurai leader was at the pack horse, glaring at the tear in the water skin. He whirled and angrily called back his men.

“Back! Get back!”

The samurai advanced towards Kuno. His hand gripped his sword – clearly he wanted to attack. But something held him back. The man flicked a contemptuous glance down at the dead soldier. He wrung his hand about his sword hilt, then turned to his men.

“Take the horses! Hurry! The order was to move instantly.” He spared a glace at the fallen
foot soldier. “He was a fool.”

The Raiden samurai
turned to walk away. But he stopped and looked back at Kuno, his eyes narrowing in hatred.

“And
you
, samurai. You – we will see later!” The man signalled to his men and stalked off down the lane in fury. “Quickly! We have a mission!
Move!”

The
Raiden surged off, taking their horses off towards the forest. They moved swiftly, urged on by their officer, finally vanishing past the buildings at the end of the street.

Frightened t
ownspeople came edging in from the shadows, saw that the Raiden had gone, then came running to crowd about Kuno in amazement. The old woman looked up at Kuno with tears in her eyes.


Thank you, Kuno san. But you have put your life in grave, grave danger.”


A true samurai must care for compassion and honour above his own life.” Kuno gave the woman a calm, disciplined bow. “It has been my pleasure to assist you.”


Thank you, Kuno san. Thank you.”

Townspeople help
ed the old woman to her feet. Others arrived with a hand cart to bear their dead neighbour away. They made haste to be gone: no one wished to be present when the Raiden returned to claim their fallen man.

Kuno saw to it that the old woman was taken to a distant neighbour’s home. He turned to look back across the street – the shattered cart still lay amongst the trampled, bloody ruins of its cargo. The oxen had been seized and led away. Kuno made certain that the townsfolk had all safely gone, then turned to walk away.

A tiny glimmer of silver shimmered on the ground.

Kuno knelt down. A fat droplet of silver lay on the dirt – a thick bead that stood clearly out against the soil. Kuno nudged at it with a fingertip, and the droplet moved. Clearly it was a liquid.

Quicksilver.

There was a second drop nearby, off in the direction that the Raiden had gone. Then a third… Kuno stood and looked at the trail in puzzlement.

Odd. Very odd indeed. Why would the Raiden need quicksilver?

Sura would know. Kuno walked off down the street, his back straight and his pace unhurried, stern and determined.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter
5

The fields closest to the town were all planted with new rows of crops. But weeds grew here and there, and the soil was badly tilled
: the Raiden were forcing too few peasants to labour over too many fields. The results were weeds, poor tillage, and weak, sickly crops. The nearby farmer’s huts were drab and impoverished. No peasants lingered in the fields – and no one ventured near the forest’s eaves.

Kuno,
Chiri, Tonbo and Sura walked carefully along a path between the fields, heading towards the forest. The two elementals flew just overhead, alert and ever-circling. Sura took the lead, kneeling from time to time to carefully check the path. Her tail was swishing and curling – a sure sign that her interest was utterly engaged.

Kuno was deep in thought. He shook his head,
rehearsing past events inside his mind, trying to see whether his actions that morning had been blameless. Sura saw that he was troubled and moved to walk beside him.

The fox spoke in a warm,
tranquil voice.

 

“Two monks were walking along a path, when they came upon a beautiful young maiden standing at a ford. She was afraid to cross and ruin her fine new robes. The eldest monk happily offered to carry her across the stream. After they had crossed, the girl thanked the monks and went on her way. The monks continued on their journey.

“The yo
ungest monk fumed, feeling most put-out. Finally, after many miles, he turned to his elder.
‘Colleague! I must question your behaviour. We are monks, and supposed to avoid female company, and yet you carried that woman over the stream!’

“The elder monk kept walking serenely down the road.
‘Colleague – I left the woman back by the stream many miles ago. Why are you still carrying her upon your back?’

 

Sura gave an expressive wave of her tail. “There is no point worrying about past actions. If they are errors, learn from them. If they came from a pure heart, then they are correct.”

Kuno ran his mind over the battle in the street
once again.

“But am I blameless? How can one know if one has a pure heart?”

“Oh – yours is a work in progress, but I think it shows promise.”

Kuno still fretted. He shook his head and scowled.

“I regret that I may have drawn the ire of the Raiden authorities. It goes against our agreed program of subtle investigation.”

Sura waved a hand, not truly bothered. “Eh – well, that all went out the window once they decided to invite us to the keep.” Sura was in her fur form, spear tucked under
one arm and her long fox muzzle questing as she concentrated on the grass. “They’ve got other concerns at the moment! The son is trying to race about and consolidate his position. Replace his father’s men with his own – win over the difficult ones, eliminate the impossible ones, fight off a few minor coup attempts! Happy days...!” She suddenly stopped, pushing aside some weeds on the path. “Ah! Here we are! Perfect!”

A brilliant silver droplet lay cupped upon a curled, dead leaf. Sura knelt down and carefully lifted the leaf, and the droplet moved – staying thick, heavy and rounded. Sura examined it carefully, holding it so that Chiri could see.

Chiri brought forth a tiny glazed clay vial. Moving carefully, Sura drizzled the droplet into the container and helped cork it closed.

Kuno edged closer, watching the entre affair with great interest.

“Is it quicksilver?”

Chiri
nodded. “Yes, Kuno san. Quite definitely.” She weighed the vial in her hand. “It is an expensive substance.”

Kuno frowned. “But what use is it?”

“Mostly creepy ones.” Sura regarded the castle keep off in the distance. “It’s used in ludicrous potions that are supposed to grant immortality.”

“Immortality!”

Chiri carefully put the vial into a pocket in her belt. “Yes, Kuno san. But it is poisonous! It’s only real use is bonding to other metals.” The rat gave a slight blush. “And as a medicine for treating… certain ills.”

Kuno blinked in confusion. “
Ills?”

Chiri cleared her throat. “Diseases of a… a social nature.”

“Social?”

“You will never need to know.”
Tonbo patted Kuno upon one shoulder. “I hear it’s cure or kill.”

The
group knelt amongst the weeds, looking off towards the forest. The forest eaves were a great dark wall that marked a sinister world.

The pack horses had been laden with skins filled with quicksilver. They had headed straight for the forest – a place known to be haunted – a place renowned for horrifying
disappearances. Kuno rested his hand upon his sword, and pondered.


Why would Raiden soldiers be transporting medicine? And why with such furtive speed?”

Chiri creased her brows in thought. “
Perhaps there is an epidemic? Could it be a disease that kills, rather than evil spirits?” The nezumi girl explored the thought. “There are many diseases that contract the muscles – facial muscles might well contract into a terrible grimace in death.”

Sura blinked.

“That would mean… we just touched a body killed by the disease?”

“Ah.” Chiri turned to thoughtfully inspect Sura from afar. “Actually, I believe it was
you
that did the touching. Oh – and you also smelled his breath…”

Everyone took one giant step away from
Sura. She looked uncomfortably at her hands.

“Oh – great jiggling Buddha on a half-shell!” Sura looked to Chiri. “Muscle contractions?”

“Do you feel stiff? Sore or disoriented?”

“Well I do
now!”
The fox poked at herself all up and down, trying to see if anything was stiffer than it should be. “What are these diseases again?”

“Come to think of it
– most come only after infected puncture wounds.” Chiri bit her lip. “Were you punctured? Or have you been rolling in any horse dung?”

“No – I sort of try to avoid it.” The fox shook her hands and brushed them clean against her robes. “
Look – I feel fine!”

Everyone still kept their distance. Chiri seemed rather pained.
“Some precautions might perhaps be in order? Perhaps we should bathe you – and fumigate your robes? Observe you for a few days?” Chiri frowned. “Purgatives, certainly! Heavy steam with a bitter pine resin might sweat out any undue influences…”

Sura was losing her patience.
“We are not doing a pine resin steam bath! Look – Lord Raiden was perfectly healthy when he arrived, and stone dead eight hours later. That’s clearly not a disease!”

“Ah.” Kuno
stood up and nodded, conceding the point. “Yes – that is quite true.”

“Good – so can we get on with things please? We have a case to solve!”

Sura walked forward. Kuno immediately edged away. The fox glared at him in annoyance. “Will you knock that off! I haven’t got a disease! Don’t be such a baby!”

Kuno
gave a sniff, gathering his dignity. “I was not avoiding you. I am merely concerned about the fleas.”


I do not have fleas!” Sura scratched at herself: there was a slight chance of her going into a sulk. “I told you – I just get a flaky skin condition when I’m too tense!”

“Is this condition contagious?”

“Oh for Lao Tzu’s sake…!” The fox swatted Kuno on the rear and led the way towards the woods. “Come on – let’s get into the forest and find these Raiden guys.”

“What
if there are ghosts?”


Please!
I could do with a decent ghost. Maybe it’ll look like a giant flea.” Sura marched towards the woods. “Come on – suck it up. We’re Spirit Hunters!”

 

 

All arguments
forgotten, the group moved carefully forwards. The forest ahead was dark and strangely still. A distant bird called – insects creaked and whirred far off in the gloom. But nothing seemed to move.

Crushed grass showed where the Raiden and their pack horses had left the fields and marched into the forest. Discoloured soil showed where drop
s of quicksilver had sunk into the porous dirt.

They moved on – on
within the forest eaves. Light here was dim and cool, streaming through tangled trees. Sounds seemed to sink into the still air and rotting leaves.

Tonbo had sharp eyes fixed on the surrounding forest. He searched carefully, then
moved forward, finally kneeling beside a tangled mass of brambles. He found a patch of crushed grass and flattened, disturbed mulch. Tonbo carefully lifted a small strand of twisted straw – hardly a thread – then looked carefully at the surrounding underbrush.

Sura sank down beside him.

“What have you got?”

“M
en were waiting here. Maybe five or six – in straw boots.” Tonbo carefully indicated some marks swept through the soil – as though a broom had been whisked over the area. “Hunting shoes.
Ichibi-habaki
. See? They swept away their tracks.”

Six men – plus the Raiden pack horses and their minders.
Sura slowly swished her tail.


For a haunted, deadly forest, that is quite a crowd.”

Chiri rippled, changing into her furred form – tall ears
and long whiskers made for vital assets in the forest. She unsheathed her natagama, holding them at the ready. Her elementals slipped stealthily into cover in the trees.

Sura unsheathed the blade of her spear. Tying on his helmet, Tonbo took the lead. He slid his massive tetsubo into his hands.

“Keep your eyes open.”

They moved carefully onwards, as silently as they could, following the faint trail of the Raiden and their pack horses.

The forest felt horribly oppressive. Sura’s ears were pricked: her black nose sniffed carefully as they moved on, deeper and deeper into the woods. Chiri’s great pink rat ears were sensitive to every minute sound – her long whiskers quested for movement. Just up above, the elementals slipped silently and stealthily through the leaves.

They walked
along the faint trail left by the horses – pausing occasionally to carefully scan the way ahead. The tracks led past great tangles of bramble bushes and dense thickets of brush, making strange, abrupt twists and turns. Sura found a scatter of bird bones beneath a tree – quite probably a kill site made by an actual wild fox. She knelt down to briefly inspect the bones, and found a small striped centipede scuttling across the moss nearby.

The forest clearly had wildlife. No deer or boar – but certainly the little creatures were
still at home.

Kuno made to walk off the path. Sura
flicked out a hand. “Stay on the trail!”

Kuno froze. “Why?”

Sura pointed. Down in the underbrush, a taut, nigh invisible horsehair line stretched between two sets of brambles.

The line led to a ta
ngle of thorns. Hidden beneath some old dead leaves there was a bow mounted on a board and loaded with a rusty arrow. The slightest tug at the horsehair line would sent the arrow whipping through the air. Sura and Kuno inspected the whole arrangement from a careful distance, and then drew carefully away. The fox beckoned Kuno back onto the trail. “Think like a fox. You’ll live longer.”

Sura led the way onward.
Behind her, Kuno remained carefully upon the trail.

They
made their way cautiously down a rise, threading their way between great straight, tall trees – down into a valley filled with undergrowth. The trail spread: the marks of pack horse hoof prints stood out clear against the mouldering leaves.

Sura suddenly halted and knelt amongst the bushes. The others all sank down into cover. The fox’s ears were pricked up high, and she swung her spear down to level it towards the bushes just ahead.

Tonbo – moving softly but armour still gently clanking – came forward to her side. Sura clearly sensed something in the dense trees just across the hollow.

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