Risuko: A Kunoichi Tale (Seasons of the Sword #1)(8)

The armed maid looked back at us, her jaw tight. I couldn’t quite hear what she said to the lady, but I could make out the words danger and enemy.

On the other hand, when Chiyome-sama stuck her head out of the window, I could clearly hear her response, a disgusted snort. “Kuniko!” she hollered at her armed maid, who was still only an arm’s-length away, and pointed at the only building in the village that had a sign. “Go see if that’s an inn and get them to start the water boiling. I want a bath.” And with that, she snapped the screen shut.

Making a show of maintaining her dignity, Kuniko handed the reins of the pack horses to one of the Little Brothers and sauntered off toward the building.

Mieko was standing right behind me. I turned to her and whispered, “Why was Lady Chiyome so upset?”

Mieko tilted her head to one side and asked, very quietly, “What did you see on the road during our walk today?”

I frowned for a moment. “Horsemen, riding back and forth.”

“How many?”

“Um.” I frowned again. Toumi scowled at me from under her straw hood. “One this morning, riding to the castle? Another as we were crossing the bridge out of Pineshore... and... a bunch when we stopped?”

Mieko raised an eyebrow and turned to Emi. “How many, Emi-chan?”

“Nine,” answered Emi.

“Very good,” Mieko said. She looked back to me. “A small group of cavalry like that is called a squadron. Why do you think there has been so much—?”

Toumi interrupted, “’Cause there’s a damn battle going on, like that soldier said!”

Mieko’s posture didn’t change and her smile remained, but a hardness told us very clearly that she hadn’t appreciated Toumi’s interruption. After a moment she said, her eyes still on me, “Precisely. Back in Pineshore, there were rumors of a battle that might be taking place near here. Some of Lord Imagawa’s men had set out to attack an outpost of... of Lord Takeda’s. Chiyome-sama wanted to get past the danger before we stopped for the night.”

“She expected us to get further than this?” I heard Emi mutter. For once, even Toumi had nothing to say. Looking at their faces, I could see that they were as exhausted and as cold as I was.

I shivered, thinking about something quite separate from my cold-parched lips and sore legs: those soldiers at the crossroad, so many of them wounded. A battle? It suddenly occurred to me that I was safer traveling with this peculiar band than if I were off on my own.

When Kuniko came back, she informed Lady Chiyome through the screen that the house was indeed an inn, that they were pleased to be honored by the lady’s patronage, and that a bath was being prepared.

As we walked slowly down the street toward the inn, I saw a few faces peering out at us from behind curtains and doors. Several of the buildings’ roofs had clearly been scorched—there was a layer of fire-blackened thatch beneath bright, new straw. Two houses were nothing but black skeletons.

The sign of the inn, too, was blackened, though it was hard to tell whether by dirt and age or by flame and soot. It carried a barely visible image of a cat with a raised paw.

We entered slowly. As unimposing as the inn that we had stayed at in Pineshore may have been, this place looked as though a good wind could blow it down. There was a wasp nest under the eves in the entryway, but even it looked ramshackle, as if the wasps had given it up for a lost cause.

“Welcome to the Mount Fuji Inn!” a dry voice warbled cheerfully. An old woman in a tatty kimono that had been elegant when her grandmother had worn it shuffled out of the front door and into the courtyard.

“Mount Fuji?” said Chiyome-sama as she stepped out of the palanquin. “We’re two days travel from the mountain,” she sniffed.

“Ah!” said the innkeeper, offering a stiff, deep bow, “but if the weather is clear tomorrow, you will be able to make out the holy mountain in the north.” She looked around, pinkened, and added, “It is a bit distant, it’s true, but you can make it out. On a clear day.”

She clapped her hands together. “Well, honored lady, we will be happy to serve you and your party. I will lead you to your room. My husband will see to the horses.” An old man, even more threadbare and tired-looking than his wife, stumbled forward, took the reins of the pack horses and led them into the inn’s lone stable. Kuniko followed him.

“Room?” Lady Chiyome asked, looking for once more amused than imperious.

“Honored lady,” said the innkeeper, “there have been very few visitors of late. It is the wrong season. And all the fighting... We have just one chamber available, on the ground floor.”

“Ground floor!” said Lady Chiyome. “That will do for my servants,” and she indicated us all with a negligent backhanded wave, “But I prefer something on the second floor.”

The old woman hissed in apology. “Eee, so sorry, honored lady, the upper floor to our inn is... has been...” She looked at Lady Chiyome uncertainly. “You have noticed that the town has been ravaged by fire. The Takeda nearly burned the town to the ground last month before they were driven back by Lord Imagawa’s men.”

Both of the carriers straightened up, and Mieko raised a thin eyebrow, asking a question of the lady without speaking it. Clearly they were worried about being so close to all of the fighting that was going on in this district; it certainly frightened me. Lady Chiyome held her hand up to silence their unvoiced concern. “We will stay,” she said, firmly. “The servants will sleep in the stable, or in the dining room.”