Risuko: A Kunoichi Tale (Seasons of the Sword #1)(4)

There was no one between me and the inn-yard entrance. I thought of bolting. But food...

We reached a wide door that looked like the entry to a stable. Mieko opened it and beckoned me in. “Come, Risuko.”

I entered behind her and peered into the gloom. As my eyes adjusted, I could make out five figures, all seated around a tiny fire.

The room looked as if it were indeed intended to be a stable, but had been transformed into a sort of servant dormitory. Low, age-darkened beams crisscrossed, holding up the roof. Bedrolls lined one wall and a small, smoky fire-pit warmed the center of the space—almost.

The five figures stood and turned toward me. I felt the urge to climb up into the low rafters, just to get away. Too late to fly away, I realized.

I recognized the two bulkiest figures as Lady Chiyome’s carriers. They glanced at me, bowed their heads, and then turned back to the fire, stirring rice in a pot.

The other three figures came toward me. As they stepped away from the fire, their black silhouettes softened and I could make out their features. They were older than me, but definitely children. The biggest was a boy, with a doughy, smiling face. The middle one had a smile too, but it wasn’t a friendly one at all. And the smallest one, who was just a little bigger than me, wore the most ridiculous frown on her face that I’ve ever seen.

“Children,” said Mieko, a hand resting gently on my shoulder, “come and introduce yourselves to our newest companion, Kano Murasaki.”

“Kano.” The middle girl’s eyes narrowed. “So, you’re the reason we’ve been waiting here,” she spat.

I tried to step back, but Mieko’s gentle grip held me in place.

The boy spoke as if the girl hadn’t said a thing. “I’m Aimaru. And this is Emi.” He gestured to the sad-faced girl.

“Hello,” she said. Her voice was pleasant, but the scowl didn’t break at all.

The boy was about to introduce the other girl, but she slapped away his hand. “I’m me,” she said. “I don’t care if you know who I am or not, but I want to know who you are, and why the lady was looking for a scrawny mouse like you.”

“She’s not a mouse, Toumi,” said the frowning girl. “She’s too big.” I couldn’t tell if she was joking, or just hadn’t understood.

The girl called Toumi gave a dismissive snort and walked back to the tiny fire.

“There’s food,” said Aimaru. “Come.”

“What’s your name?” asked Emi.

I shuffled. I’ve never liked Mama’s nickname for me, but that was how everyone seemed to know me there. “I’m called Risuko,” I muttered, looking down.

“A squirrel’s sort of like a mouse,” said Emi, her face still twisted in a severe pout.

Is she simple? I wondered. Is she making fun of me? I somehow couldn’t believe that either was true.

“Come, Risuko,” said Mieko. “We can get you some clean things to wear and then you may eat.”

Mieko grabbed some items from one of the bundles by the fire and led me into one of the empty stalls where I couldn’t see the others. She gave a perfect, crescent-moon smile and held out her hand. “Come, give me your clothes.”

Her polished sweetness was as impossible to disobey as Lady Chiyome’s commands. Shaking uncontrollably, I pulled off my thin, wet jacket and trousers. I held them out to her, dripping on the straw-strewn floor.

Her smile froze on her face as she took the clothes by her fingertips. Holding them at arms’ length, she draped them over the wall of the next stall. I never saw them again.

Then she handed me clean clothes: trousers and a jacket, both blue. On the back of the jacket was Lady Chiyome’s white disk mon.

Mieko led me, newly branded, over to the fire, where there was a large pot of rice and a small platter with some slices of fish.

“I must go help pack up the lady’s things,” Mieko said quietly to me. Turning to the others, she said, “We will be leaving as soon as the lady has eaten. She wishes us to speed our mission and leave Imagawa territory as soon as possible. Please make sure that you are ready to go immediately.”

The two large men nodded simply. Aimaru bobbed his head and Emi just stared. Toumi gave a snort.

With that, Mieko turned and glided out of the stable.

Aimaru and Emi picked up their half-finished meals. Toumi was wedged between the two carriers and the wall. She was mashing the fish into the rice with her fingers—but her eyes were still on me, glistening in the firelight. The big one whom Lady Chiyome had called Little Brother passed me a serving of rice and fish in a wooden bowl with a pair of battered chopsticks. I sat in the straw and started to eat.

Mother hadn’t had food for us that morning, and I’d had a long, cold walk—not to mention the promise of more walking soon—so I was starving. I began to shovel rice and thin slices of fish into my mouth with the chopsticks. They might not have been clean, but I wasn’t going to complain.

As I gulped down the food, barely tasting it but savoring it even so, the others began to gather up their belongings in preparation to leave.

I wasn’t concerned; I had nothing to pack. I finished the last grain of rice, rinsed the bowl out with water from a bucket, the rest of which the younger of the carriers poured onto the dying embers of the fire.

“Does the meal meet with Lady Mouse’s approval?” sneered Toumi from the wall.