Risuko (22 page)

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Authors: David Kudler

Tags: #Young Adult, Middle Grade, historical adventure, Japanese Civil War, historical fiction, coming of age, kunoichi, teen fiction

BOOK: Risuko
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“Nothing, Kee Sun
-
san
,” I answered. “I had... a bad dream.”

“Oh?” He peered at me, eyes dark.

I would have loved to talk to him—to someone—about the nightmare that had haunted me, but I did not feel ready somehow. I merely nodded.

“Hmm. And yeh, Falcon-girlie? Yeh been sneaking
kimchee
?”

“Like I'd want that stuff.” Toumi's face twisted in disgust. Then she turned away and muttered, “Like I'd get away with it.”

“Oh, I have no doubt yehr capable, Falcon-girlie. That's why I'm watchin' yeh so close, see?” Kee Sun chuckled, though I couldn't tell what the joke might be. “You have bad dreams too?”

“No,” said Toumi through tight lips. “Stomach ache.”

“Ay!” groaned Kee Sun and slapped his palm against his forehead. “Just do me and Bright-eyes here a favor, will yeh, and wait till after the evening meal?”

“Wait?” asked Toumi. “Wait for what?”

But Kee Sun just waved a hand at us both dismissively and banged the gong to let all of the Full Moon's inhabitants know that the morning meal was ready to be served.

—

As everyone filed in to the hall, I could see that many of the women were already absent; clearly, they had gone to join Mai and Emi in the Retreat.

I felt twin tremors of curiosity and concern about my friend wash through me as Toumi and I served out the meal.

Fuyudori was sitting silently, which was a relief, since her flirtations with the Lieutenant had begun to annoy everyone. Thankfully, Masugu himself wasn't present. Perhaps he was taking his horse out for a morning ride, as he had said he would. The Little Brothers and Aimaru were gone as well—most likely engaged in morning meditation and exercise, as they often were.

Like Fuyudori, most of the remaining handful of women still left were glum and silent.

Mieko
-san
certainly seemed pleased, smiling as I had not seen her do since we had arrived at the Full Moon. Whether it was Fuyudori's silence or Masugu's absence that had cheered her up or whether her good mood was due to something else entirely I couldn't tell, but Lady Chiyome noticed as well.

“Stop grinning, Mieko,” the old lady snapped. “You're ruining my appetite.”

“This humble servant apologizes, lady,” said Mieko, bowing her head demurely. The smile disappeared from her face, but somehow she managed to look just as pleased.

As I began to bring several empty platters back to the kitchen, Toumi squawked, and the tray that she was carrying clattered to the ground. She stood, knees bent and pressed together, looking as if she were trying hard not to make water.

The table closest to her burst into laughter—the first that I had heard in the hall in days. “Come on,” brayed Sachi, who had returned from what she'd called
a hunting trip
the night before. “Let's get you to the Retreat.”

“Retreat?” Toumi said the word with the same bewildered tone that I had that morning. Still bent over, covering her lap with her hands, she didn't move; her eyes were perfect circles of shock, and her ears burned red.

“Yes, the Retreat. It looks as if all of that bean curd that Kee Sun's been feeding you has actually done you some good. Come on, I might as well go too. You'll have lots of company there. No. Not through the kitchen. Kee Sun would have to wash the whole place down,” Sachi giggled, grabbing Toumi's elbow and leading her through the main doors.

Moon time,
I realized. Toumi too had reached her first moon time. I was going to be alone.

“Pick up the girl's tray,” barked Lady Chiyome to the girls nearest to her. “Help the squirrel here bring our food before you disappear too.”

It was a mark of the authority and fear in which all of the women held Chiyome
-sama
that they didn't even hesitate in following her order.

As I started back toward the kitchen to refill the serving platters, the door to the hall opened again. Aimaru poked his snow-covered head in and peered around.

As he began to leave again, Lady Chiyome snapped, “Well, boy? What is it? Why have you let a draft in and turned our tea to ice?”

“Pardon, my lady,” Aimaru said, eyes downcast. “I was looking for the lieutenant. I saddled his horse as he asked last night for us to do—usually he's up before we are, so I thought he must be in here.”

“Probably sleeping in,” the lady growled, and for some reason flashed an angry glance at Mieko, who was sipping her tea, the very portrait of studied innocence. “Go wake him!”

“Yes, my lady,” Aimaru said, bowing through the barely-open door.

“And shut the door!” Chiyome
-sama
yelled. “It's freezing in here!”

Wisely, Aimaru closed the door rather than answer again.

Kee Sun, whom I had almost never seen outside of his kitchen, met me outside of its entrance and exchanged my empty platters for a steaming metal tea pot. “For the lady,” he whispered, and disappeared back into his domain.

I scurried up to the head table and refilled Chiyome
-sama
's cup. She put both hands around the cup and grunted, “Leave the pot.” It seemed as if that were the best response I could hope for.

As I turned to Mieko
-san
, who seemed to have finished the rather large helping that I had given her, the door flew open again.

Lady Chiyome took a deep breath, ready to shout at whoever had, once again, let in the cold, but the two Little Brothers had entered at a dead run, closing the door behind them. Their swords were drawn.

Even Lady Chiyome didn't seem to have anything to say about that.

The smaller of the pair ran to take up a place behind her, looming menacingly there with his sword. I instinctively scampered out of the way to give the larger one room as he moved directly in front of her and knelt.

“Lieutenant Masugu has been poisoned,” he said.

The low rumble of his voice seemed to wash over the hall like an enormous ocean wave. All of the women leapt to their feet. “Masugu!” shouted Fuyudori and started to run toward the door.

“STOP!” yelled Lady Chiyome. It hardly mattered whether the order was aimed at Fuyudori, who was poised to sprint to the door, or at the smaller of the Little Brothers, who had begun to move to intercept her, his sword raised high: all motion in the hall stopped.

Chiyome
-sama
stood, her arms extended, her face a mirror of the dismay that had clutched me.

Mieko stood as still as a snake before it strikes. Her face was a neutral, lovely mask as always, but there was a fierce concentration in her eyes that I had seen once before: at the Mount Fuji Inn.

Lady Chiyome lowered her arms, which I noticed were shaking. “How do you know he was poisoned?”

The Little Brother before her turned again and knelt, even as the other took up a position just inside of the door. “He is unconscious. His pulse is very slow. There was a jar of rice wine by his bed, and it smelled of poppy juice.”

“Poppy juice?”
snapped Mieko
-san
, and Lady Chiyome turned toward her, her face twisted both with shock and annoyance that her usually deferential maid was suddenly so outspoken. “He hates it. He won't allow his soldiers to use it, even in the greatest pain. He would never touch it knowingly.”

Lady Chiyome held up a shaking hand once more to reestablish the proper order of things. “Is this so?”

“Yes, my lady,” both Little Brothers answered.

A sob broke out at the far end of the room. Fuyudori was standing, her fist shoved into her mouth, tears flowing down her face.

“Stop it, girl!” Chiyome
-sama
snarled. “I think the meal is over. Shino. Take this worthless, white-haired idiot off to the Retreat. If it isn't her moon time or yours, it will be soon enough.”

“But—!” Fuyudori sobbed.

Lady Chiyome had had enough. “GO! NOW!”

Fuyudori's mouth snapped shut and her eyes flew open. She followed a fuming Shino out of the hall.

“And the rest of you stay where you are. All of you!”

Everyone in the hall was absolutely still.

“AND WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?” roared Chiyome
-sama
.

I flushed with fear, thinking perhaps that I was the one at whom she was yelling. I hadn't moved a muscle, of course. I was terrified that someone could have tried to poison Masugu
-san
—someone from our own community.

Mieko however was standing with her hand ready to open the door. I was standing right next to where she had been seated and yet I hadn't seen her rise or move. It was as if she had simply appeared on the other side of the hall. I saw the Little Brothers both flinch, telling me that she'd managed to move without their noticing either.

Mieko gave a simple, almost military bow. “This humble servant was anticipating her mistress's always-wise command.”

Lady Chiyome's rheumy eyes narrowed, but she didn't say anything.

The maid, looking anything but humble, straightened. “I know more about poison than anyone at the Full Moon. I am the person best suited to treating Takeda
-sama
's representative.”

Without looking away from Mieko, Chiyome muttered to the Little Brother still kneeling before her, “Is the boy there?”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Go with my
humble servant
there. Send the boy back. Make sure nothing happens.”

The Little Brother touched his head to the floor of the hall.

Grunting, Chiyome
-sama
leaned forward onto her elbows, glaring at Mieko. “Don't do anything stupid, girl.”

Mieko bowed again, less stiffly, and fairly ran through the door as soon as the Little Brother reached her.

I know more about poisons
....

“Risuko!” shouted Lady Chiyome.

I found that my own feet had begun to lead me to the door. I knew that I couldn't let Mieko alone with Masugu
-san
, not when she'd already threatened to kill him. For a samurai to die by poison was a dreadful waste. For Masugu
-
san
to die...

Blinking, I turned back toward the mistress of the Full Moon, knelt and bowed deeply, my forehead touching the tray full of dirty bowls.

“Go tell Kee Sun what has happened to the lieutenant. Tell him to...
assist
that presumptuous chit in treating Masugu. Tell him that you may assist him, if he needs.”

Leaping to my feet, I started to run to the kitchen, stopped and tried to turn, bow and start running again, and tripped, sending the tray and bowls flying. Several of them shattered.

When I started to try to pick them up, Chiyome
-sama
roared. “Forget the dishes, idiot. GO!” As I flew through the door, I heard her growl, “The rest of us are going to stay right here.”

29—
Proper Duty

“M
ugwort!” growled Kee Sun, pulling out a bag full of tiny herb pellets.
“Mogusa!
The old folks burn these on your back every year, right?”

“Yes,” I said. My hands were shaking. I only hoped that the Little Brothers were watching Mieko closely. “On New Year's Day. One pellet—”

“—for every year, yes, yes.” He took a deep breath. “Light these and hold them against the bottoms of his feet, hear? Till he wakes up. Raise blisters if yeh have to. Don't stop till he wakes.”

“Yes, Kee Sun.”

He grabbed a pot of pickled ginger. “And wave this under her nose.”

“Her nose?”


His
nose! His nose.” He looked as if he were about to throw the clay pot at me. “Don't sass me, girlie.”

“No, Kee Sun
-san
.” I took the ginger and held both herbs to my belly.

“Go.” He turned back to the stove, where he had a pot of water starting to boil. “I'll be there as soon as the tonic is ready.”

“Yes, Kee Sun
-san
.”

“Go!”

I went. My mind was full with the previous night's dream—about my father's sword exercises, which were the same as Mieko's slow dance—and with the argument that I had overheard, and with sound of the bodies of the two Imagawa soldiers thumping to the
tatami
—and I knew in my heart that Mieko was a killer. As lovely and graceful as she might seem, and as kind to me as she had been, she was trained to take life; I could not let her take Masugu
-san
's.

The snow had stopped and the clouds broken; the morning was clear and still and very cold. I ran across the snow-covered courtyard holding the ginger and the mugwort as gently as I could in my trembling fingers.

The older of the Little Brothers stood at the entrance to the guesthouse like one of the statues of the thunder-hurlers at the entrance to the temple of the Buddha at Pineshore. His feet were set wide and his hand was on his sword hilt. Though his face was impassive, he was watching me fiercely.

“I b-brought the herbs for M-masugu
-san
.” When he didn't move aside, I added, “From Kee Sun
-san
.”

Though his expression didn't soften in the slightest, he stepped aside and slid the door open for me.

Inside, the guesthouse was a mess. Screens had been tipped over,
tatami
mats rolled up and replaced carelessly, and a vase lay in the middle of the floor. I began to pick it up, but realized that my hands were already full, and that I had more urgent work than to neaten the lieutenant's rooms.

The other Little Brother stood at the entrance to the bedchamber, a scowl of distaste on his usually warm face. I heard a groan from the other room and then a quiet, high-pitched curse. “Hiding things! I told you,” snarled a hard-edged voice that I had to convince myself could possibly be Mieko's. “Play games with the
kunoichi
and you're going to get hurt.
I told you!”

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