Risuko: A Kunoichi Tale (Seasons of the Sword #1)(33)
Before she finished the sentence I had stridden over to the wall and begun my ascent.
It was, perhaps, wrong of me to enjoy doing something so dangerous and so obviously likely to anger my patron. But digging my fingers into the narrow, icy half-timbered beams provided enough of a challenge that my breath began to pull. When I reached the first horizontal beam, I looked down to see Fuyudori staring up at me, her mouth and eyes perfect circles of astonishment. I allowed myself to grin as I continued on up.
The last section of the climb was extremely difficult. The only handholds were two beams that ran straight up to either side of the small window. I had to press with all of my strength against either side with my toes and thumbs, scooting up slowly. The wood was cold and I had to move carefully so as not to slip, and the plaster rubbed roughly against my cheek and stomach. It was the hardest climbing I had ever done. The muscles on the outsides of my legs and arms, my shoulders and my hips ached and began to quiver from the strain.
Just as I was sure that my strength would give out, dropping me to a certain broken bone or three, my forehead hit something.
It was the window ledge. I had made it.
Looping one set of fingers and then the other over the outer sides of the ledge—I didn’t want my fingers to be visible from inside—I could at last use my fingers and the insides of my arms to hold me up, allowing the thumbs and outsides a well-earned rest.
As my heartbeat stopped racing and I caught my breath, I could hear Lieutenant Masugu’s low voice rumbling from the room. “I will stake my honor on it, lady, it wasn’t her.”
Lady Chiyome’s voice managed to be even colder than usual. “You’ll risk so much on such a little creature? One whose family honor is hardly equal to yours?”
There was silence in the room, and my heart sped right back up again as I suddenly realized that the family she was insulting was mine.
When it came, Masugu-san’s voice was quiet but as sharp as a falcon’s cry. “It wasn’t Murasaki. She saved our lives.”
“Hmmm.” Unfazed, she clucked her tongue. “Well, unless you think the spirits have been playing games, then someone was in your chamber, Masugu.”
He grunted. “I think the spirits must have better things to do than to move my papers around. The Little Brothers tells me there are signs of the raiders still being in the valley.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Even so, do not let your affection for the girl blind you to what she is,” the old woman said, her voice as cold as her ledge.
Masugu muttered something that I could not hear.
My shoulders were beginning to quake with the effort of keeping myself in place, and yet I could hardly move. I needed to know what it was that they suspected me of. Looking down, I saw Fuyudori skulking at the base of the tree, her white hair like snow, gleaming in the starlight; she looked even more ghost-like than ever.
“In any case, Chiyome-sama,” Masugu-san said, “it wasn’t found. It’s still safely hidden away in the chimney.”
“Good,” Lady Chiyome grumbled. “Lord Takeda’s plans depend upon it being delivered, Lieutenant. Don’t forget that. As tedious as this service may be, my young friend, stuck among all of these young ladies, it is nonetheless essential, yes?”
“Yes, lady,” Masugu answered, though he didn’t sound terribly happy.
“Now get back to your room, Masugu, and let an old woman get her sleep.”
“Yes, lady,” he said, and I heard his steady footsteps going down the stairs.
Before I was able to begin my descent, however, I heard Chiyome-sama speak once more. “Come in, Risuko. You’ll catch your death hanging outside of windows like that.”
19—In the Web
My shaking arms suddenly went still, as if instantly turned to ice. Looking down, I saw that Fuyudori had disappeared. I was trapped and alone.
“Do hurry, Risuko-chan,” said Lady Chiyome in that quiet voice that still managed to sound quite piercing. “I don’t want to have to call Kee Sun to haul you in. He might slip and drop you, and that would be the most awful mess.”
Arms trembling, my back screaming with the effort and the cold, I pulled myself up, one elbow at a time, peeking over the sill into Chiyome-sama’s chamber.
It was smaller than I would have expected. Most of the space was dominated by a large, black bed that amounted to a small room of its own—a tall box almost like a huge palanquin, self-contained as Chiyome-sama herself, and almost enclosed, with a chair and a desk built into the entry. The space remaining was taken up by tatami mats, in the middle of which stood a small kneeling desk; she was seated cross-legged behind it. Before her on the desk stood a number of small, brightly colored shapes.
“Good evening, my little squirrel,” said Lady Chiyome, smirking sourly. “It is so lovely of you to join me. And by such an unusual route. Extraordinary. Not even Mieko in her prime could have undertaken such a climb unaided. I am most impressed.”
I collapsed to my knees, staring down at the tatami, utterly bewildered. “Thank you, Chiyome-sama.”
“Hmm. You were unaided, I suppose? No mechanical assistance? No one helping you?”
I thought of Fuyudori, who had urged me to climb, and then disappeared. “Nobody helping me,” I said.
She rested a finger to her nose, and then grunted. “Yes,” she said. “Most impressive.” Squaring her shoulders, she peered at me. “Tell me, Risuko, what did you hear?”