Art by Brushmen

The torches which lined the courtyard of the Kurokawa clan’s summer residence had been lit and a small stage had been erected. Upon it the great lord of the Kurokawa sat on a stool in resplendent robes fanning himself casually from the heat of the summer evening. His vassals and lords were gathered around him as though prepared for an audience, or a trial. Nearby, a number of servants stood, gossiping quietly- waiting to see what would happen next.

Armoured footsteps sounded in the night air, and five samurai dressed for war dragged two people to stand before the lord, an older man dressed in servant’s clothes, and a young boy in the finery of a noble son. The samurai shoved them down onto their knees, bowed to their lord, and took a step back.

“Good evening, your lordship.” Jiro said as he bowed politely, then rose and nodded to the man standing next to the clan leader. “Gempei-san.”

Taro, for his part, looked around in wide-eyed worry, and was shocked to see his elder brother standing nearby- free.

“Brother!” He gasped. “What are you doing here?”

“Not being foolish like you are.” Came Masahiro’s answer, and under his younger brother’s pained gaze he turned away.

“Gempei,” asked Lord Kurokawa to his guest. “Do you know this man?”

“Yes, my lord. We have crossed swords many times. This is the samurai Yamaguchi Jiro who serves Lord Inuyama.”

The lord thought a moment, and then tapped his fan shut into his hand as he remembered. “Ahhh. Yes! Well, that is a stroke of luck. I have heard your name many times, Yamaguchi-san. You are the fencing instructor to the Inuyama clan, are you not?”

“As you say, my lord.” Jiro agreed. “I’ve taught them how to fight for two generations and they’ve never failed to take a Kurokawa head in battle.”

That got Jiro a sharp crack to the back of the head from one of the guards behind him.

“Watch your tongue, dog!”

Lord Kurokawa motioned his man back. “Enough of that, Captain. I would hate to harm such a distinguished guest.” Then after a moment he added. “I have heard your Kirekusa fencing style from my warriors, and I would like to see it myself to judge its worthiness. Could you perhaps give us a demonstration?”

That brought a wry smile to Jiro’s face. “Well, I would be happy to, my lord. Merely give me a sword and I will give you a full demonstration of its abilities.”

Kurokawa laughed at that. “Oh. I’m sure you would, swordsman. I’m sure you would.  However…You! Servant!”

As he said the words, he gestured at the closest of the servants who were watching the proceedings. A tall, muscular young man with a slightly dull expression whose eyes suddenly shot open in surprise. After a moment’s hesitation, he gestured towards his nose.

“M-me? My lord?”

“Don’t just stand there, servant.” Barked Gempei.  “Come here!”

“Y-yes master,” answered the lad as he shuffled forward with his head down. “Of course master.”

“Go and fetch a wooden bokken from the training hall.” Ordered the Lord.

“Of course, honoured lord.” The servant answered, giving a quick bow before running off.

Then Kurokawa turned and looked at his guest. “Gempei, when he returns would you help our fencing instructor show me how he fights?”

Gempei gave a quick bow. “With pleasure.”

“Oh, and Gempei?”

“Yes, my lord?”

“You may use your real sword.”

*                      *                      *

What the Lord of the Kurokawa did not know, however, was that the servant he had selected to fetch the wooden practice sword in fact had no idea where the training hall was, since he was in fact not a servant of the household at all.

Masato was, however, in an extreme state of panic.

“What am I going to do? What am I going to do?” He babbled to himself. “They’re going to kill sensei!” He stumbled along blindly, desperately trying to think of a way out of this situation and berating himself for being so stupid. His master was going to die, and it would be his fault!

So lost in thought he was, that Masato ran right into another servant coming the other direction, nearly knocking the man down.

“Hey you! Where do you think you’re going?” Cursed the man, regaining his balance. He was a middle aged man, probably one of the senior attendants. Masato instantly feared he’d lost all his chances and bowed quickly to apologize.

“Oh, sorry master. Our lord asked me to fetch him a bokken from the training hall and I was rushing to get it.”

The man gave him a long look, obviously trying to recognise him and failing. Finally he shrugged. “He did, eh? Then why’re you going that way? The training hall is the other way! That’ll take you to the storerooms.”

“The storerooms?” Masato said reflexively. “Oh. I’m so sorry, our lord gave me an order and I was too worried about following it.”

“You’re new, aren’t you?” The retainer brushed off his robe, then added menacingly. “Better calm down, boy. Get distracted around here and you’ll lose your head.”

That brought Masato, who was trying to get out of this conversation as quickly as he could, up short, and he stared at the elder servant a minute.

“I-I’m sorry, what did you just say?” He said with sudden interest as a candle was lit in the back of his head.

The servant shook his head in disgust. “Are you deaf as well as dumb? I said keep your eye on your job!”

“Yes,” Masato answered thoughtfully as an idea came blazing to light in his brain. “Of course. Thank you. I’ll follow your advice.”

“See that you do. Now, training hall’s that way. Try not to get lost again.”

“Oh, you bet I won’t!” Masato answered with determination, then turned and ran the way the man had pointed.

He knew what he needed to do to save sensei- now all he needed was time.

Art by Brushmen

In the main hall of the summer residence, to the sound of musical accompaniment a small party was taking place. Three men, two older and one in his prime, were being hosted by the lord of the Kurokawa.

“Well said, Gempei! Well said!” Lord Kurokawa laughed, having just been impressed by the wit of the youngest of the three- a hawk faced samurai with a large nose and small eyes.

“Thank you, Lord Kurokawa.” Gempei smiled, raising his cup of sake to their host. “A toast to this fine meal you have prepared for us! I have rarely had venison so tender!”

In the nearby line of servants, Masato fidgeted around nervously. He had been fearful at first, then impressed, for he had rarely gotten to see a meeting between lords in the Inuyama castle, and now finally he was somewhat bored and just wanted to find a way to get away. The problem was that every time he thought about moving, it earned him a harsh look from that devil of a woman in charge! What could he do?

“No, Gempei. It is too much. I do not deserve such praise.” Said the lord modestly. “It is you who have rendered us a great service. With a single stroke we will be rid of two enemies at our doorstep.”

Suddenly Masato was no longer bored. He was interested. Very interested.

The samurai shook his head. “It is merely a small service. Lord Inuyama has been foolish in his quest for allies, and Lord Sugura is equally foolish. I merely enticed Sugura to capture Inuyama for us, and then once Inuyama is out of the way, dealing with Sugura will be child’s play. Inuyama thinks his ally will help him defeat us, but we have turned his ally against him.”

The men toasted and laughed again as Masato struggled to breathe. His lord was walking into a trap! He had to find a way to escape, to tell Jiro!

But, before Masato could make any attempt to leave, there was a sudden commotion at the end of the hall, and the door was thrust open. A young man around Masato’s age in a fine yellow-lined red silk kimono rushed in and threw himself down in a bow before the lord and his assembled guests.

“My lord, I must speak with you!”

The three guests looked at the teenager with surprised curiosity, but Kurokawa was merely annoyed.

“Ahh, young Masahiro.” He said, recognising the teen. “I didn’t summon you, boy. Leave us.”

“I will be happy to, my lord.” The lad said quickly. “But first, I must tell you that the Inuyama are planning a rebellion!”

Kurokawa raised an eyebrow at that. “Indeed?”

“Yes, my lord. They will declare their independence soon. Please, let me say now that I wish to stand with the Kurokawa. I believe you are far wiser than my father, and will accept any use you have for me.”

Masato gasped, this was even worse than he could have feared. Lord Inuyama’s own firstborn had turned against his father!

As Kurokawa considered his reply, Gempei looked the young man over. “This is Inuyama’s son? He’s a well spoken lad.”

“He is.” Agreed the lord of the Kurokawa. “I will consider your words, boy. However, before we discuss this further- tell me how you came to this knowledge here in my home?

Masahiro produced a sheet of paper, which he offered before him with both hands, his own head still bowed in respect.  “A messenger brought this letter, my lord. One of my father’s samurai- he waits with my younger brother.”

“Ahh, it seems we have a guest then.” Kurokawa smiled. “We should greet him properly. Send some men to get him and I will show him the hospitality I believe he deserves.”

Masato had no idea where he was.

He just hoped it wasn’t the women’s quarters as he didn’t feel much like becoming a eunuch.

The hallways here all seemed to look the same, and he had begun to feel he was going in circles as he made his way around the large compound- peeping here, listening there- hoping that he’d find some trace of the boys.

Now, as he turned a corner he reflexively stepped to the side and bowed his head as one of the head servants led a line of men and women carrying food trays past him. He’d already done this respectful pose a dozen times during the night, and was amazed by how well it worked, and how little the servants here seemed to know each other.

But this time, as he listened to the woman in green bark orders to her charges, he also heard another sound- a moan. He glanced up just in time to see a servant carrying a large steaming pot start to drop to his knees, the pot only saved at the last moment by two of the others grabbing it.

Art by Brushmen

The woman in charge threw up her arms. “Oh great! Another one’s sick! At this rate our lords will have to serve themselves.” Then she pointed to one of the other companions. “You! Take him back to the servant’s quarters.”  As the man bowed and complied, she stood there thinking, and then looked around, spying Masato cringing nearby. “You there!”

“M-me?”

“Yes.” She answered, stepping up to look at him carefully. “You’re dressed as a kitchen aide, do  you know how to serve?”

Masato tried not to make eye contact, keeping his eyes respectfully down. “Well…ahh…I’ve seen it done, but…”

The head servant nodded and turned away. “Good enough. Good enough! Grab that pot and follow us!” Then, as she fell back into position at the front of the line, she noticed Masato hadn’t moved. “Well? What’s wrong? You not hear me? Move it if you value your skin!”

Unable to see any way out, Masato bowed and quickly dashed over to take up the pot by its handles. It wasn’t especially heavy, but he could see how it might be a bit much for a sick person. As he hoisted it up, he leaned over to the servant watching him.

“Hey, uhh…We’re not going to serve the Inuyama princes, are we?” He said with his usual subtlety.

The servant looked at him as if he’d fallen off the roof. “What? Those brats? Of course not!”

“Oh”, said Masato, disappointed.

“Hurry up! We’re serving the clan lord himself.”

*                             *                             *

In Taro’s room, the two sons of Lord Inuyama knelt facing the elder samurai, having just finished reading the letter that Jiro had brought with him from their mother.

“I see,” said Masahiro, considering.

“So…father really wants us to come back?” Taro said to Jiro, wide-eyed with excitement. “Brother, did you hear that?!?! I told you father misses us! He…” Then he stopped abruptly as he saw the deep conflict on his brother’s face. “Elder Brother, what’s wrong?

Masahiro shook his head and forced a smile. “Nothing, Taro. It’s just a surprise.” Then he turned to look at the samurai and touched his head to the ground. “Jiro-san, you traveled far to bring us this news. Thank you.”

Jiro bowed deeply in return. “Think nothing of it. It was my duty, young lord.” Then added- “Now, I am afraid we must hurry. Please gather your things so we may leave tonight.”

“Of course,” Masahiro smiled, rising to his feet. “Jiro, please help Taro gather his things, my brother is only eight and a bit slow.”

“Of course, young lord.” Jiro answered, sharing a smile with Taro.

As he reached the door, Masahiro peeked outside cautiously, and then looked back to the two of them. “I’ll return shortly. My room is nearby.” And he left.

After his brother was gone, Taro immediately jumped up and began rushing around the room packing. Although, Jiro noted, much of what he considered important was already well organized in various bags, as though he’d been planning for this night for some time. He wasn’t so much packing as getting everything together.

“If I may speak, young master.” Jiro asked, concerned. “The young lord doesn’t seem very happy about going back.”

“What?” Said Taro absentmindedly, rooting through a closet. “What? Oh. Don’t worry, brother’s just unhappy because he likes some girl here. He wants to go home just as much as I do. Can you pass me that bag? I want to bring some scrolls.”

In another corner of the estate, a boy lay on his stomach on the bamboo tatami floor of his room- next to him an inkpot and before him a sheet of paper. In flowing strokes, his brush gently drew out the kanji characters, pausing every so often while he struggled to remember a stroke here, or a dash there in the Chinese way of writing. He was young, not more than eight seasons, but the intense gaze on his face showed a thoughtfulness that many had commented was beyond his years.

So intent was he on his writing, he failed to notice the door slide open and shut, or the soft approaching footsteps, until suddenly the paper upon which he had worked so hard was swiftly snatched out from before him as if by a sharp wind.

“And what is this?” Asked the new arrival- a teenager almost twice the boy’s age.

“Hey! Give it back!” The boy protested, jumping to his feet and grabbing vainly for the paper as the other simply turned and kept it up out of his reach.

“Dear father, I hope you are well. Masahiro and I miss you and mother greatly, and hope that we will be able to see you soon.” Read the teen, then stopped to shake his head and look at his younger brother. “I knew it. You’re writing another letter to father asking him to let us come home.” Then he sighed and added- “Taro, why don’t you just give up?”

Snatching back his letter, Taro gripped it protectively. “I can’t. If father knows how much we want to come back he’ll think of something. You read his letter. He misses us.”

“Yes, misses us so badly he sent us here in the first place.” Masahiro commented. “Taro, we’ve been over this a hundred times- this is our home. The Kurokawa are our people, and you had better start accepting it.”

“D-Don’t you want to go back?” The boy protested, clearly not agreeing.

Masahiro shook his head. “And why would I want to do that? Taro, who do you think would win in a fight between our clan and the Kurokawa?”

“Why, our clan of course, brother!” The child said proudly. “The Inuyama!”

Masahiro sighed again, giving his brother a look of sympathy. “Taro. Taro, you’ve got to forget these dreams of yours. You’ve seen the armies of the Kurokawa- how they fight. Do you really think our clan has any chance against their samurai? The Inuyama have no future, sooner or later the Kurokawa will crush them.”

“No! Don’t say that! Father is strong!”

The teen smiled sardonically. “If father is so strong, why are we here? Why did he put his future in the hands of his enemies? No Taro-chan, we’re on our own. Stop thinking in terms of our blood and start thinking with your head. We’ve got to do what we can to get into the Kurokawa while there’s still time, before our father does something stupid.”

The boy looked at his elder brother for a moment, and then a light seemed to come on in his eyes. “Emiko!  You’re talking about Emiko-chan!”

There were times Taro was far too perceptive for his age, and this was one of them. Slightly embarrassed, Masahiro was about to deny it when suddenly he heard a noise outside their room and quickly motioned Taro to be quiet.

Just as he’d done this, a knock came at the door. Masahiro’s heart leapt into his mouth and be began to panic. Had someone heard his brother’s treasonous talk? Would they be punished? What should they do- they couldn’t just pretend there was no-one there.

As Masahiro struggled to think, the low knock came again.

Finally, he made a decision. Masahiro called out “enter”.

The wood-panelled door slid open to reveal…

“A servant,” said Taro, peering past his bother at a man bowing deeply in the open door.

Suddenly slightly embarrassed by his own cowardly thoughts, Masahiro naturally wanted someone to take it out on. “What do you want old man?!” He barked.

The old servant with the tied back silver hair finally raised his head, smiling at the uncertain pair.

“Young masters, your humble servant Jiro brings you greetings from home.”

“…And have provisions prepared. We can’t have the lord being hungry during his trip, can we?”

Hasegawa Yohei walked the halls of the Inuyama castle, his assistant following him and taking notes as he spoke. The meeting between lords that Hasegawa had worked so hard to orchestrate was now quickly approaching, and he was the kind of man who disliked leaving even the smallest detail to others. Things were going surprisingly well, and his mood was good this morning as he took his dawn stroll around the castle halls looking for things that weren’t right.

Such as the miniature bonsai tree that decorated the table now in front of him- the tree’s carefully decorated base should have been turned to face the hallway, but it was now turned to face away from the passers-by. It was a detail many might miss, but not Yohei.

“That should be enough, leave me.” He ordered his assistant, who bowed, backed away, and disappeared to leave the first minister of the Inuyama alone in this deserted corridor.

“Be quick,” Hasegawa told no one in particular as he began to fuss with the miniature tree.

From the panels which covered the ceiling, a soft male voice came.

“Lord Hasagawa, the two messengers escaped across the border into the Kurokawa lands- the Tengu was unable to stop them.”

Hasegawa nodded, “Well, it was Jiro. That man is quite resourceful.”

“He is, my lord. I apologize, I should have gone myself as well, instead of only relying on Shinpei’s bandits.”

Hasegawa shifted the tree to its proper position.

“Yes, you should have. We shall just have to hope that Jiro’s resourcefulness results in a successful mission. However if it does, there can still be some good to come from this. Have Shinpei’s men watch the roads for their return- if they bring the clan lord’s sons I want them captured and brought to me. No point in letting Jiro get the credit for their safe return, is there?”

“No, my lord.” Agreed the ninja. “There is not.”

*                             *                             *

For Jiro and Masato, the journey to the Summer Residence of Lord Kurokawa was mostly uneventful. They did their best to keep a low profile, and since it was late summer and the roads were alive with merchants and travellers it wasn’t hard for two more to blend in with the normal traffic for the first two days. The third, which took them up higher into the mountains, was when they had to become more creative and careful, as the traffic thinned, and the number of armed patrols seemed to increase.

As planned, they left their horses with a farmer, and after confirming the location of the summer residence continued their journey on foot. This brought them to the edge of the estate just before the evening of the third day, and avoiding the guards they slipped over the low wall and into the garden of the sprawling residence.

Once inside, Jiro found a storage shed, and when they were hidden within he motioned for the young man to drop the pack he’d been carrying. Masato complied, slipping it off and placing the soft bundle on the floor.

“Here you go, sensei.”

Confident no one had seen them come in, Jiro slid the door to the shed shut and began to unpack the contents.  “Quick lad, put on these servants clothes.”

As they changed, Jiro continued-  “Once we’re ready, we’ll split up like I told you. If anyone stops you, you just got hired yesterday. The head of the household is named [Jew-sue-kay] Juusuke- remember it in case they ask you. If you find the boys wait until they’re alone and then let them know who you are. I’ll deliver the letter once we meet again.”

“Yes, sensei. I will.” Masato answered as he finished tying the sash on his blue robe.

“Good lad. Just remember to keep your head and you’ll do fine. We had to ditch our swords outside, but you’ve still got your knife if there’s any trouble. We’ll meet back here after we’re done.”

“Good luck, sensei.”

“To you too, lad.” Jiro checked the door by opening it a crack and peering out. “It’s clear. Let’s move.”

The guard captain watched the five ruffians with concern, and then turned his eye on the two samurai. “Is this true, sir? Are these horses really yours?”

Jiro instantly knew what was what. The pursuers were trying to get the disguised samurai arrested in hopes of being able to capture them or get what they wanted from them later. The bandits would likely have border guards on their payrolls, so getting to the two samurai would be surprisingly easy and the Kurokawa’s own guards would have done the work for them. Since Jiro and Masato had stolen horses from the bandits the night before, why not tell the truth and say that the pair were indeed riding stolen horses?

Jiro, also knowing how the game was played, also dropped to his knees and bowed. “My lord, we bought these horses fairly from a seller. These men are crazy- ah don’t know what they’re talking about.”

Giving Jiro an unhappy look, the accuser again bowed deeply to the officer. “My lord, these horses are from our stables and I can prove it! All our horses have a tattoo on their left hip with the character for Red. It’s my father’s nickname. You just check these horses and I’m sure you’ll find they’ve got the same tattoo!”

“You rat!” Jiro swore. “Who put you up to this?

The accuser smiled at Jiro confidently. “You’ll get your due, thief!”

“I see,” considered the guard captain, then grabbed his sword and stepped forward.  “Guards, keep an eye on these men while I check their mounts.”

Masato was now extremely nervous, their swords were hidden among their belongings on the horses, and the discovery of the weapons alone could put both of them into the hot pot. He did his best to keep his breathing even as the officer first looked him over, and then casually walked around the horse- tugging here, poking there. The horse, not liking this much, whinnied and pulled at the reigns.

“Hold this horse steady, boy!” The captain barked, and Masato did his best to comply.

“Sorry, sir.”

As the animal came under control, the officer moved to its left side. “There, that’s better. Now you said that it was on their left hip?”

“Yes my lord! Just on the hip. You might have to move the fur a bit, but I’m sure you’ll find it!”

It took only a moment of brushing away the dust with his gloved hand, and then the officer nodded. “Hmm, ahh yes. Here it is!” He called out. “You said it was the character for red, didn’t you? And you’re sure about it?

“Sure as the day I was born, sir!” Answered the ruffian confidently.

The officer stepped back around into the view of the men, walking past Masato and up to Jiro.

“Old man?” He said.

“My lord?” Asked Jiro, not having to feign any nervousness.

“Remember what I told you when you’re over on the other side.” Then he patted the side of Jiro’s horse and motioned for his men to open the gates.

“Yessir! I will sir!” Jiro gushed. “C’mon boy! We’ve got us some drinkin’ to do!”

As the two disguised samurai led their horses through the gate, the officer turned to the astonished accuser and his men. “Guards, take these men away. I wish to discuss with them the penalties for making a false accusation.”

*                             *                             *

“Sensei! I sure thought were done for!”

The checkpoint was now in the distance, and the pair were riding at a slow pace up the road into the forest.

“Take this as a lesson, lad- it never hurts to be cautious. Now you know why I wanted to switch horses before we came over. Bandits often ride stolen horses, and they always check at those border crossings. That’s half the point of the crossings!”

“Yes, sensei. I’ll remember.” Masato agreed readily. “So, where to next?”

The old man raised an eyebrow and looked over at the boy- “Why, you curious about the Hidden Pearl, lad?”

“Oh!” Said Masato, turning bright red. “Oh, no sir!”

Jiro laughed. “That’s good, because we ain’t got time for that kind of fun.” He gestured to the blue hills to the South of them. “The boys are in one of the summer houses up in those hills about 3 days ride. We’ll have to ditch the horses as soon as we leave the main trade roads though, because they’ll attract too much attention. We’ll find some farmer to take care of them for us and we’ll foot it from there.”

“Oh,” answered Masato, unhappy at the thought of walking. He rather liked riding, and this was a good horse. “Uhh. Yes. Sensei.”

Jiro reached out and shook Masato’s shoulder affectionately. “Don’t worry, kid. We’ll be plenty busy once we’re getting close. You know how to skin rabbits?”

Masato shook his head.

Jiro grinned. “You will soon!”

The lands of the Inuyama clan and the Kurokawa clan were separated by the mighty Mogami River that flowed from Mount Gassan in the Tohoku region down to the sea. At each of the five bridges that separated the two lands was a checkpoint where travellers were routinely inspected for contraband as they moved between each side.

With the sun cresting the surrounding mountains, Jiro and his apprentice Masato found themselves at the most Southern of those checkpoints,  deep in a line of travellers anxious to make an early start to their day’s journey.

“Sensei, are you sure we’re gonna be okay?” Masato asked, glancing about nervously.

It had been a long night of cat and mouse since their encounter with the bandits at the Inn of a Thousand Lanterns, and now with what seemed like the “freedom” of enemy territory at hand, Masato was more nervous than ever.

“Just calm down kid, we’ve got the papers we need to get across the checkpoint.” Jiro said, patting the horse he stood next to. “We’ll be over the bridge in no time, don’t worry about it.”

“I know, Sensei. But…I’m just thinking about those bandits.”

Jiro nodded in understanding. “Me too kid, I dunno why they wanted us but…” Then suddenly something caught Jiro’s eye ahead of them, and he shifted to put the horse between himself and something he’d seen. “We got trouble kid. When you have the chance, check out the guys milling around over there, they look familiar?” Then added “No, don’t stare you idiot!” as Masato openly craned his neck around to look.

Trying to be more cautious, Masato looked again at five men who were playing dice near the checkpoint gate. It took a moment, but then he recognised one of them- the man with the red handkerchief  on his head who’d fingered them the night before at the Inn. “Sensei…It’s the guys you dropped the cabinet on!”

“Yeah. Him and his friends must have been sent ahead to watch for us.”

“But, what can they do? They’re not soldiers, are they? They can’t keep us from crossing.”

“We still don’t know who they are, lad. They could be Kurokawa agents.” Jiro considered leaving the line and trying another checkpoint, but he suspected there were more of them nearby watching in case the two samurai did exactly that. There were too many unknowns, but he decided to follow his gut and take a chance. “Just be prepared kid.”

As the sun slowly rose into the sky, the line inched forward, and it wasn’t long before the Masato and his master found themselves at the head of the line. They’d kept an eye on the ruffians, who’d seemed to look everywhere but where the two samurai were, and even now seemed oblivious to their presence.

That made Jiro even more nervous.

“Next! You there! Look lively!”

The checkpoint captain, a large man in the black and orange lacquered armour of the Kurokawa, motioned for the two to come forward, and the disguised samurai led their horses up.

“Yessir! Sorry, sir!” Jiro stepped up and raised his hand to beg forgiveness as he gave a quick series of bows. He was speaking now in the deep country accent used by the farmers in the nearby hills.

“Papers?” Said the guard.

Taking a moment to fish around for them, Jiro produced them from his robes and handed the slightly wrinkled documents over with a friendly smile. “Here ya go, m’lord!” Then after the man started reading them, he added. “Say, you wouldn’t happen ta know any good places to wet your whistle over there, would ya? I’m takin’ the boy out for a little trip- gonna make a man of him!”

“Aww, pa! Don’t tell everyone!” Masato whined, trying to get in on the act.

That produced a laugh from the other guards and the people behind them, but the guard captain remained stone-faced. “You can’t do that in your own town?”

Jiro looked at him in mock surprise. “Heck no! You know what’ll happen to me if the wife finds out? I’ll be eatin’ nothing but cold pickled radish for a month!”

The captain finished his inspection and nodded to himself, handing the documents back to Jiro. “Your papers are in order. And, if that’s the drink you want, I suggest you look for The Hidden Pearl, it’s in the next town and…”

Listening to the guard speak, Masato heaved a sigh of relief- they were going to make it!

“There you are you horse thief!” Came an angry yell, and five men marched up to them- the lead with a red handkerchief on his head. This weaselly looking man waved an accusing finger at Jiro. “Trying to get away, are ya?”

Now the guards were at attention, once again all business. “You there, is there a problem?”

The accuser turned and dropped to his knees in front of the guard captain, giving him a deep bow- something the other four copied. “My lord, please arrest these men!” He wailed. “They’ve stolen horses from our farm and are trying to flee across the border!”

The attackers rushed at them with a loud cry, charging up the stairs behind the group.

But, when the pursuers got to the top they saw a large a large grey shape appear before them, blocking out the light. At first, they thought their prey had simply closed a door, and began to prepare to crash through it, but then the “door” suddenly seemed to lean forward and came tumbling down at them.

Jiro gave a little smile as he heard the cries of the men behind them in the stairwell, and then turned to follow Masato and the ladies. The bamboo shelves he’d just pushed down the stairway weren’t heavy, but they would keep that bunch from causing any trouble and buy the samurai some time.  He just hoped Shiori had other options for them.

“That showed them, sensei!” Masato said proudly as Jiro caught up with them.

“It’s a start,” Jiro said, thinking quickly. “But, there are other ways up. Shiori, which side are the stables on?”

Taking a few more steps, Shiori stopped and pulled open one of the sliding panel doors. “In here”, she said.

The group rushed into an empty room, and dashed across it- when Shiori pulled back the cloth panel door to the outside, she revealed a landing. “This end of this balcony leads to the roof of the stables.”

Jiro stuck his head out and checked around. “Looks clear. Should be a good jump, though. You ready, lad?”

Masato, filled with courage and bravado, announced proudly- “Don’t worry about me, Sensei!”

“You first, then.” Jiro gestured to the landing, and Masato disappeared into the night. Then the elder Samurai turned and looked at their guide, his hard, sharp eyes softening as their gazes met. “You’ll be okay?”

Shiori smiled. “I will be fine. They didn’t see me with you. I doubt they know why you came.” Then a look of worry entered her eyes. “Please, take care of yourself, Jiro.”

For the first time this evening, she had dropped the honorific on his name. That told Jiro all he needed to know.

“I’ll see you next time I’m through.” He said softly.

Then he was gone as well.

*                             *                             *

In front of the Inn of a Thousand Lanterns, the bandit leader known as Shinpei the Tengu sat astride his horse and waited patiently. He was not an impulsive man, he was a careful man, and he had earned his seemingly loathsome nickname not because he was long nosed and ugly, but because like a forest goblin he seemed able to perform feats of magic. Of course, what to other men appeared magic was in fact careful planning on Shinpei’s part, and he prided himself on his ability to think ahead of his enemies in any situation.

This is why he was feeling uneasy tonight. The orders to find these samurai and capture them had come so quickly there had been little time to plan. He was lucky to be able to find them, but some of his spotters in the nearby pleasure quarter had seen them pass and relayed the message down the line fast enough. Hastily assembled men and direct assaults were not Shinpei’s preferred approach, but the situation required it as he’d been warned time was of the essence.

He had sent his men in when the moon was just breaching the tops of the trees, and now it was well up into the sky. He knew delay to report to him could only come from one source- they hadn’t found their prey.

Sure enough, when his lieutenant Genma appeared, he confirmed Shinpei’s fears.

“Boss, we’ve searched the place but there’s no sign of them.”

Shinpei frowned. “The men said they saw them, didn’t they?”

Genma hesitated. “They claim so, but…” Then his breath was caught as he saw two fast shapes dart from the far side of the compound and take off down the road. “Look, two men on horses!”

Shinpei swore, and then brought his horse around. “We’ll catch them. Gather the men and meet us later!” He shouted at Genma. Then he kicked his horse in the sides and shot off after the fleeing samurai.

These were his hills at night, and he had almost a dozen riders with him. There was no way these men could escape. They weren’t going to evade him a second time.

*                             *                             *

From the shadows, two pairs of eyes watched the riders disappear.

One of them smiled, the other nodded in approval.

“They’re gone, Sensei.”

Jiro had known they’d have men guarding the stables. What their pursers hadn’t expected, however, was for the samurai to tie their own unconscious men on horseback and then send them riding. By the time they’d realized their mistake, the pair would be long gone.

“Wow Sensei, you really know all the tricks.”

“That’s why I’m still alive, lad. Now, let’s go!” He gestured back towards the other horses they’d prepared. “Since their horses are saddled up and ready, it would be a shame to waste them. We should be at the border by sunrise.”