Death's Kiss: Legend of the Five Rings: A Daidoji Shin Mystery (The Daidoji Shin Mysteries Book 2) by Josh Reynolds

Author:Josh Reynolds [Reynolds, Josh]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: epic fantasy, Legend of the Five Rings, detective & mystery
Publisher: Aconyte
Published: 2021-06-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Lady Aimi

Dawn’s light danced among the trees as Kasami stepped inside the outbuilding. She had awoken early, to practice in the quiet hours before the rest of the household awoke. It had been her habit for some time, and she saw no reason to change it simply because they were not at home. She had dismissed the men on duty with a nod, wanting to be alone with the prisoner. That they had listened to her was somewhat surprising, but she supposed Batu had given orders to that end.

Her feet made barely any noise as she moved down the line of cells. She did not know why she was here, only that she felt it important to see the woman they had come to save. No, not the woman – the ronin.

Even the word repulsed her. There was a fundamental wrongness to it, a repudiation of all that was certain. Everyone had their master. That was the way of the world; masters and servants; order and purpose. But ronin were outside of that order. They had no master and no purpose. Some, she knew, found it by choosing a new master. Those, at least, were better than the sort who turned to brigandage.

But even in choosing to serve, there was an implied disloyalty. If one could select a master, what stopped one from doing so again? How could you trust such an individual, especially with your life, or the lives of those most precious to you?

And yet, many samurai did. And many ronin prospered from such alliances, clawing back the honor they had forsaken, one generation at a time, until their sins were forgotten and they were simply another loyal retainer.

Most, she knew, did not keep their names when they left the path. They chose new ones, or went without. What was a name worth, after all? But some did not. She did not know why the Katai had allowed Ruri to keep her name. Perhaps her sin had not been great, or maybe they were hoping she might return. Or maybe they did not care.

Katai Ruri did not look up as Kasami stopped outside her cell. “It is not time for my meal,” she said, after several moments had passed. Still, she did not look up. Kasami studied the prisoner, then turned her attention to the straw floor of the cell.

Shin’s opinion of her skills at observation aside, she knew what to look for. Signs of disturbed straw, of exercise and practice. Even here, the habits of a lifetime were hard to break. Her gaze fixed on a curious shape beneath the rough tatami mat that served Ruri as a bed. “What is that beneath your mat?”

Ruri froze. “It is nothing. An amusement.”

“Let me see it.”

Ruri looked up. Her gaze was flat, her face stiff. Slowly, she reached out and flipped the mat aside. A sword lay there. Not a sword of steel or wood, but one of straw. Woven into shape over the length of her imprisonment.

Kasami

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