Death at the Crossroads (Samurai Mysteries) by Furutani Dale

Author:Furutani, Dale [Furutani, Dale]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 068815817X
Published: 2011-10-10T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

Love knows many names.

Alone in the darkened woods,

all names sound silent.

The next morning, Kaze wandered into the courtyard and approached the cage that held Jiro. The night before, he had blandly told Manase that the search had failed and that he would have to think of another stratagem for finding the bandit camp. Nagato was there as well, and he fidgeted constantly, waiting for Kaze to mention the ambush. Kaze didn’t. Instead, he started a long conversation about the relative merits of haiku poetry versus the longer tanka form of poetry. Manase loved it and kept up a lively conversation with Kaze for hours. During this whole time, Nagato was compelled by protocol to sit perched on his folded legs, supporting his considerable weight by resting on his heels and knees. He was soon in agony, praying for the boring conversation to end. But every time it looked like the discussion was about to finish, the ronin samurai would bring up some other subtle poetic point, and he and Manase would pursue that point for endless minutes. In his pain he cursed the samurai and couldn’t understand why he would pick this occasion to engage the Lord in such a long discussion and not bring up the ambush. By the end of the evening, Nagato could barely get up to walk home.

As Kaze approached Jiro’s cage, he wrinkled his nose at the stench. They didn’t let Jiro out to go to the bathroom. Jiro had tried to perform his functions in one corner of the cage, but in such an enclosed space his actions were more of a gesture than an effective measure.

The old charcoal seller looked up at Kaze with tired eyes.

“Are they giving you water?” Kaze asked.

Jiro nodded an affirmative listlessly.

“How about food?”

He shook his head no.

Kaze reached into his sleeve and pulled out a large rice ball wrapped in leaves. He handed it through the slats of the wooden cage into Jiro’s trembling hands. Jiro ripped open the leaves and started to eat the rice ravenously.

“Careful,” Kaze admonished. “It would be stupid to choke on a rice ball before I can do something to get you out of here.”

Jiro was so surprised that he stopped eating. For the first time his eyes had some life to them. Tears started forming.

“Stop that crying,” Kaze said brusquely. “I hate pathetic people. There are too many of them in our land now, and it gets wearisome. Do you know where the bandit camp is?”

“No.”

“Then you are going to stay in this cage a long time. I need to find that camp to see something. It might help me to get you out.”

Jiro thought a minute. “Aoi,” he said.

“Love?” Kaze answered. Aoi meant love.

“Not the word love. Aoi is a woman’s name. She’s the village prostitute. A widow. This is a poor village, but she has too much money and too many fine things. Only the bandits have money. Maybe she gets her money from them.”

Kaze looked at the hunched-up figure and said, “A few days in a cage has loosened both your mind and your tongue.

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