Starrling, A D [Seventeen 00.2] Dancing Blades by A D Starrling

Author:A D Starrling
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: AD Starrling
Published: 2015-02-28T00:00:00+00:00

I spent a sleepless night pondering what the samurai intended to do about the group of mercenaries hell-bent on kidnapping his son. When morning came, I was still no clearer as to his potential countermove. I had given Musashi details of the men’s location and expected him to have arrested them with the help of the lord of Osaka Castle. But when I headed into the samurai quarters to check on the house, it looked as peaceful as when I had left it the previous night.

The celebrations for the Tenjin Matsuri started early that day. After paying their respects at the shinto shrine dedicated to the festival god, the Osakans filled the streets of the city. Tantalizing smells and smoke soon clouded the air from the many food stalls lining the crowded passages, canals, and bridges. The beats of percussion drums and the cries from outdoor theatre performances competed with the locals in full vocal flow, creating a deafening wall of sound that should have raised the dead from their graves. The street processions of the daytime were followed by energetic music and dancing that carried on well into the evening.

I saw Iori and Musashi only from a distance. The feudal lord’s escort was extensive and none could breach the solid wall of guards around it.

The second day of the festival was busier and louder than the first. A portable shrine occupied the midst of a noisy parade of chanting and cheering locals that moved slowly through the city, pulling in spectators along the way. Colorful giant lanterns and flame torches dotted the streets and waterways as evening fell and the growing crowds gradually converged upon the bridges and banks of the Okawa River. There, boat processions, bonfires, and a night-time fireworks performance would herald the end of the festivities.

The Osaka Castle daimyo left his estate at dusk. The Miyamotos were not among his entourage. I stood frowning in the shadows opposite the moat well after the last guards had crossed the bridge while I contemplated what to do next.

Is that Musashi’s plan? He’s intending to simply not show up?

If that was the case, then I could not intervene in good faith and engage the men intent on seizing Iori.

I was about to leave when I saw the younger Miyamoto appear at the gates. He was alone. My heart sank. I intercepted him when he crossed the moat.

‘Where is your father?’

Iori looked somewhat relieved to see me. ‘He has been detained by an urgent matter.’

I muttered something rude under my breath. ‘Did he get the letter I sent two nights ago?’

Iori nodded. Although he was dressed in a light summer kimono and wooden slippers, he had swapped his bokken for a katana and a wakizashi, the shorter blade that Musashi favored for his two-sword fighting style.

‘Whoever caused your father’s delay is involved in a political plot aimed at creating unrest between the local daimyos and the Tokugawa shogunate,’ I said. ‘The principal instigator is someone who also wishes to take revenge for one of your father’s previous foes.

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