Gloria Oliver (23 page)

“You know, Toshi-chan, I can see how you came to have such a low opinion of our lord,” she said. “If he spoke to me with such seriousness and ceremony, I don’t think I could find much to like in him either.”

He gawked at her in shock.

“I’ve been telling him for years he needs to learn to relax. He takes everything much too seriously.

Though I can’t imagine where he could have got it from.”

Miko stood with her hands on her hips and stared straight at Mitsuo. The latter said nothing.

Toshi tried to hide a small smile, feeling a little lightheaded as he picked up his boken. The ship tipped slightly, telling him they’d risen to the surface. He felt a dread-laced thrill at the thought he was being allowed to go to shore.

“Hm, it’s time. I guess we’d best get you going.” Miko turned toward Mitsuo. “Our young adventurer will need all the rest he can get, won’t he, Mitsuo-san?”

Toshi followed the geisha sheepishly as she led him out of the room. Halfway up the small hallway, she stopped and turned around to lean very close to him.

“Thank you, Toshi-kun. I know this was very hard on you. I truly appreciate your willingness to try to help us, from the bottom of my heart.”

His cheeks reddened at her words. The alcohol in his blood and her close proximity made the hallway feel cramped and stuffy. He swallowed hard, trying to come up with some sort of reply as blue light filled her eyes. Caressing his flushed cheeks, Miko walked away and stepped out into the night. He forced himself to follow after her.

The skiff was waiting for them as they came on deck. Mitsuo climbed down first, taking Toshi’s blankets from the geisha once he’d gotten on board. Toshi bowed to her, still having no reply, and made his way into the boat.

Once he was seated, Mitsuo released the ropes holding the skiff to the ship and pushed away from it.

The two men on board began rowing toward the dark shore at the lip of the bay.

His alcohol-laden stomach protested as the waves got rougher the closer they got to shore. Wondering how they were going to land without a sloping beach to cling to, he yelped as the two rowers abruptly tumbled overboard. He searched for them but saw nothing in the dark water until a bony hand reached up to attach to the side rail. He sat back, noticing another hand was attached to the other side as well. He kept forgetting that normal dangers didn’t apply to Asaka’s crew.

The skiff started sliding forward. He glanced back at Mitsuo, but he looked unconcerned.

He held on to the seat before him, sitting down on the bottom of the boat as it rocked up and down while it was being guided. He tried not to moan as his empty stomach made him regret having drunk so much sake.

The heads of the two crewmen rose from the surf as the skiff got closer to shore. They kept the boat steady as the waves crashed against the steep bank before them. They signaled those on board it was time to get off.

Mitsuo clambered past the boy onto the bank and then gave him a hand up. Once he’d helped him onto land and away from the spraying surf, Mitsuo returned to the boat for the blankets.

Toshi then waited for his teacher as the latter scanned the darkened terrain around them for signs of possible danger. Stumbling after him as Mitsuo finally set off, Toshi gratefully stopped as they reached a large, protruding rock formation. Mitsuo carefully laid out his blankets and then bade him lie down.

Before he did so, he looked back toward the water and saw the small boat pulling farther and farther away from shore. With a sigh, he crawled into his blankets and tried to get comfortable even as Mitsuo watched over him. The warmth from the covers and the sake in his blood, plus the cool breeze from the sea, worked together to drag him quickly down to a deep sleep.

An unknown amount of time later, he felt someone shaking his shoulder. Opening his eyes, he found Mitsuo’s white, fleshless face close to his own.

“We must go now,” Mitsuo said.

He sat up slowly, nodding his understanding, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. His stomach grumbled unhappily as he looked out toward the water and saw the glowing ship close to shore.

He got up, helped Mitsuo fold his blankets and allowed the old samurai to lead him toward the surf. The small skiff was waiting at the bottom of the steep bank, held by the two rowers.

The tide was ebbing, making the waves seem calmer. As soon as Toshi and Mitsuo were aboard, the two men pushed them away from the bank before climbing on board to row toward the ship. It wasn’t long before they had him back. As soon as he could, he made his way below to his room.

“Good morning, Toshi-kun.” Miko sat by the small table next to his futon. A plate of mush and fish was waiting for him there as well. “You’ll be happy to know all the instruments were returned last night to your gaijin captain.”

He smiled as he ate hungrily, nodding with genuine appreciation and relief.

“A visit was also paid to your old home to try and retrieve a few of your possessions for you.”

He stopped eating.

“Your Master Shun seems in good health,” she said. “He also seems to be a very busy and thorough man. He has already obtained a young apprentice to fill in your vacancy.” Her tone was gentle, but he never noticed.

Master Shun had replaced him, and so quickly? Yes, the two of them had never been the closest of people, but Master Shun was still all the family he’d ever really had or known. His appetite deserted him.

“We weren’t able to find much, only another change of clothes. Did we miss anything important?”

“I—no, nothing. None of it was important.” His voice sounded empty. “It all probably belongs to the new boy now, anyway.”

The geisha cocked her heard and stared at him for a long time. “Are you regretting your decision, Toshi-kun?”

“Hm?” He forced himself to eat another bite of fish. “No, Miko-san, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it? You hadn’t really planned to go back to him had you not chosen to come with us, had you?” Her curiosity was obvious. “Lord Asaka had already cleared you of your commitment.”

He stared at his teacup as he considered what he should say. Through it all, he’d never contemplated what would happen once he was free. Of course he’d been replaced. That was the type of man Shun was—business always came first. And with the amount of money Asaka had paid for Toshi, he would have easily afforded someone new.

“It’s not that. Though I wasn’t sure what I would do. It’s just—if I don’t survive this, it’ll be as if I’d never existed. There’ll be no trace I ever was.”

He half-expected her to laugh at his foolishness, but she didn’t.

“Though it may not seem like it to you, Toshi-kun, you’ve left enough marks in the world for there to never be any doubt you existed,” she said. “You’ve made a difference. You have changed the paths of other peoples’ lives. It won’t be forgotten.”

He looked up at her. “You’re too good to me, Miko-san.” His tone was serious.

Hers was not. “Yes, and don’t you dare forget it.”

After he’d eaten, Toshi sat back as Miko cleared his dishes away. When she returned, she brought a small pail of water. He eyed it with curiosity.

“What’s that for?”

Miko looked up at him but didn’t answer. Instead, she placed the pail near him and then proceeded to retrieve one of the many packages lining the room. She removed from one of them a large, stoppered jar.

“This, dear one, will transform you back into a normal boy.”

“Huh?”

Without answering him, Miko placed the jar next to the pail and then left. She returned carrying drying cloths and a large bowl.

“Miko-san, what did you mean by—”

She held up her hand. “Patience, Toshi-kun. You will see soon enough.”

Giving her his total attention, he watched as Miko put the bowl on the table and filled it partway with the water from the pail. His curiosity peaked as she lifted the jar from the floor and took off its top. She tipped it over the bowl, allowing a stream of black liquid to pour inside.

“It’s ink.” He leaned forward, wondering what she planned to do with it.

“Yes, but it’s a special type of ink. And with it, we’re going to transform you.”

“What?”

Miko looked at his startled expression and laughed. “Can’t you guess what this is for, Toshi-kun?”

“Well, uh…” He wracked his brains to find an answer but could come up with none. “No, I can’t.”

She laughed again. “It’s for your hair, silly-chan. We’re going to dye your hair.”

“Dye my hair?” Without thinking, he reached up to touch his ponytailed hair.

“Yes. For if you’re going to go out into the world as a normal young man, it won’t do to have you showing off your beautiful white mane.”

“Oh.” He suddenly felt dense.

Miko hid her mouth behind her wide sleeve. “Come here and sit, Toshi-kun. We’ll need to get this on you before the water gets cold.”

“Hai.” He moved to comply.

“There’s enough ink in the jar for three or four full applications,” she said. “They’re not many, so you’ll have to make them last. Unfortunately, water will slowly dilute the ink and make it run. You may be forced to touch it up on occasion. It shouldn’t be too difficult if you take care.”

He felt the warm water as she scooped it onto his hair and scalp. Miko then ran a comb through it, squeezing out any excess.

“How did you find out about this, Miko-san?”

“All women have their little secrets, Toshi-kun.”

He could hear her chuckling softly behind him. After thoroughly dying his hair with the watered ink, Miko removed it from the bowl and patted it dry. Taking an unused cloth, she wound it about his head and with a twist, hid the hair inside and laid it on his head at an odd angle.

“The cloth will absorb any leftover water and help keep your head warm,” she told him. “I’ll comb it out for you a little later.”

“Thank you, Miko-san.” Feeling foolish with the twisted cloth on his head, he sat up slowly, trying not to make it fall. Mitsuo took the bowl and pail out of the room as Miko began moving packages.

“Miko-san, what are all those?” he asked.

“These? Different things.” Miko opened a number of them, showing him what lay inside. One package held his old clothes, as well as a spare set. Another held clothes fit for a young samurai. A large wicker basket sat in the corner to carry them all, and beside it sat a lined straw hat, a straw coat, foodstuffs and other miscellaneous supplies.

“Oh.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“What? Is there something we’ve forgotten?”

“Uh, no.” He saw her give him a disbelieving look. “Actually, Miko-san, I don’t know the first thing about preparing for a long journey. I’ve never been on one before.”

She sat down beside him. “Does the thought of going scare you, Toshi-kun?”

He glanced at her for a moment and then looked away. “I’m not sure. I guess so. I haven’t really had time to think about it much. I haven’t gotten that far yet,” he admitted.

“You may not believe it, but I fear for you. My heart aches over your future as if you were my own flesh and blood,” she confessed. “I’m afraid of what lies ahead. I’m afraid of what you may have to risk for us.”

Her words did for him what his own thoughts hadn’t. His throat grew dry and tight as he tried not to let fear overtake him.

“I’m sure everything will be fine, Miko-san. Asaka-sama won’t be far behind me.” The thought didn’t help him feel more secure, but he hoped it would work for her.

“Yes, you’re right, we won’t be far behind.” She didn’t sound convinced.

Later, Miko was gently combing through his hair when there was a knock at the door. When Mitsuo opened it, Toshi was surprised to see Asaka waiting beyond. He bowed to the ground, surprised not only by the visit but by the fact Asaka wasn’t wearing his armor as usual. Without any ceremony, the samurai strode into the room and sat down not far from him.

“I have brought a number of things you will find necessary for your journey,” he said.

Toshi nodded but said nothing. He watched with interest as Asaka reached within his kimono and drew out a small leather bag.

“I am told there should be enough here to obtain anything you might require, should the need arise.” The bag jingled loudly as Asaka dropped it onto the small table beside him.

Though he itched to see how much money was there, Toshi restrained himself from reaching for it.

Instead, he watched as Asaka reached within his kimono again.

“A map has been found that should help make your trip easier. You’re to follow the marked route, deviating only if absolutely necessary. Follow the roads, but avoid contact with others whenever possible.

The fewer people that see you, the less of a trail there will be for our enemies to find and follow.”

A slow chill coursed up his spine. “Enemies?”

Asaka placed the rolled-up map on the table. “Yes, enemies. How else would you categorize those who engineered our fall from honor? The ninja knows you; he knows your destination and what you carry, though he may not know why. Those who control him will not want us to finish that which they thought stopped so long ago.”

Toshi frowned down at the floor, the enormity of what he was taking on dawning on him for the first time.

“Though they’ll know your eventual destination, the advantage is still ours, for they don’t know how or from where we will come,” Asaka added. “This advantage shall remain ours if you take great care in your travels.”

“Hai.” His gaze strayed to the map, wondering over how great a distance their enemies might have a go at him. Their enemies? Yes, he was one of Asaka’s people now, by his own choice. He doubted the enemy would have any more mercy on him than what they’d shown to his lord so long ago. He was grateful for his blankets, for the cover hid his fearful shivering from Asaka.

He glanced up as the samurai removed a thin bamboo cylinder from his sleeve.

“Within this tube rests a parchment given to me by Lord Asano.”

Toshi’s eyes grew wide, having heard the name before.

“It’s a permit, one that allows us to cross into any of his lands and gain help from his subjects without question. It will have to do in lieu of the normal traveling papers.” Asaka’s voice grew hard. “Don’t use it unless absolutely necessary before you reach the castle. It’ll be your key to get in. If you use it before then, it might become a beacon to our enemies.”