The Open Road Read online

  “It has been only a week now. I cannot bear it!”

  Kimiko wept deep, hopeless tears. Tonbo hesitated, frowning: weeping women were slightly outside of his normal skill set. He cleared his throat, then reached out to awkwardly pat the woman on the back.

  Kimiko bowed over the baby and wept.

  Two of the black-armoured guards walked down the village street. They cast a sharp glance at Kimiko. The woman blanched and struggled to her feet, wiping roughly at her tears.

  “Tonbo san, I have other duties to attend to. With your permission, I will lay your child down to sleep. I shall take him to my own hut – the one over there. I shall work there beside him.”

  Tonbo gave a quiet, heart-felt bow.

  “My thanks to you, Kimiko san. My condolences upon your tragic double loss.”

  The baby slept peacefully in her arms, well fed at last. Kimiko quickly dried her face upon her sleeves, then gave Tonbo a bow. She hastened off towards a small, brand new building set beside a young cherry tree.

  Tonbo thoughtfully watched her go. He stood at the edge of the porch and quietly surveyed the street.

  The two guards were already walking onward. Over at the huts, some of the downtrodden peasant women were setting up a loom, patiently looping threads to form the warp. Tonbo could see no imminent danger – nothing seemed out of place. The samurai watched the street for a long, quiet moment, then made his way back inside the inn.

  Chapter 4

  Tonbo and Kuno were in their armour, walking slowly about the edge of the village clearing. They walked with the village fields at their back, carefully examining the great, dark wall of trees.

  Giant spiders lurked in the forest; huge things with splayed legs and crusted, dull grey armoured hides. The skull-shaped markings on their backs glimmered in the gloom. The creatures made a horrible sharp, clacking sound as they moved.

  There were hundreds of them. The creatures were down in the undergrowth, staring hungrily at the village – flexing aggressively as Kuno and Tonbo passed. Others were high up in the trees – some in the branches, and others clinging inside monstrous great webs. The spiders watched everything in evil silence, radiating a sense of utter hate.

  Tonbo watched a group of spiders that were keeping pace. The creatures moved with sinister power. They seemed even larger than the ones that they had fought early that same morning. Tonbo looked at the creatures and gave a thoughtful scowl.

  “If the sunlight holds them back, what happens at night?”

  Kuno tapped fingers against the hilt of his sword.

  “Perhaps the beasts sleep at night?”

  “Why would a beast that hates daylight sleep through the night?”

  There were a few sites that marked bonfires along the edge of the clearing: scorched ashes and old coals, with plenty of firewood piled nearby. But the light would never reach from one bonfire to the next – unless the creatures were unusually terrified of fire? Tonbo looked back along the edge of the forest, and shook his head.

  Kuno turned to look back along the edge of the huge clearing.

  “It might be a magical barrier. Look – the ring of webs is a perfect circle.”

  The clearing’s edge was indeed a smooth, perfect curve. Tonbo turned and scanned the nearby fields, and nodded in agreement.

  The village was intermingled with trees and rambling pleasant huts. There were a few fields of buckwheat and vegetables – all poor soil, and often cluttered with tree stumps and boulders. Paths here and there wended to the clearing’s edge, only to be blocked by spider webs.

  The two samurai walked towards the end of one of the village streets. They squinted and looked back in towards the village, then walked back through a stony field.

  A path between the peasant huts led towards a patch of open ground at the very centre of the village. It was an enclosed shrine, with a high palisade entirely circling an impressive wooden building. The torii gate had been made from huge black wooden beams.

  Black-armoured guards with naginatas stood guard at the heavy gate. There were no peasants in view. But as the fat merchant and his samisen girl came strolling close to the gates, the two guards stirred. They motioned the visitors to keep back from the shrine, politely directing them off towards the inn once more.

  Kuno folded his arms and gazed at the shine’s gate. Tonbo sank down, scowling, and jerked his chin towards the nearby forest.

  “The village shrine is the centre of the circle.”

  Kuno nodded.

  “Yes. There is magic at work here.”

  Magic was far more the province of Chiri and Sura. Tonbo arose again, and joined Kuno in looking thoughtfully at the shrine.

  Three of the black clad folk walked past, clandestinely eying Tonbo and Kuno. Tonbo waited until they had passed, then jerked his head.

  “Come. We should finish checking the clearing for weaknesses.”

  Kuno nodded. Reluctantly, he withdrew and followed his friend back off towards the edge of the clearing. Peasants avoided them, moving away and off into the fields as the two samurai approached.

  There was still a considerable length of the perimeter to examine. The two men set about their self-appointed task, keeping a sharp eye upon the waiting spiders.

  Behind them, three of the black clad villagers walked through another field. The three men kept a quiet eye upon them, watching every move the samurai made.

  Kuno and Tonbo walked on.

  For her part, Sura was decidedly a fox upon the hunt. Something odd was going on. Giant spiders, ghosts, frightened peasants and well-stocked restaurants… It all added up to a puzzle, and the fox was the one creature clever enough to unravel it! So Sura ambled off along the village road, tail curling artfully behind her. She kept her spear over her shoulder, her eyes peeled, and a decided spring in her step.

  Some of the forest folk were always in view – clearly keeping the fox under observation. Sura positively revelled in it.

  She took her time, idling along the street and poking her nose about the place here and there. She checked the lumber that made up the nearest houses – all brand spanking new. Sura peered into the village well, and walked carefully about the entire inn. The kitchens were all staffed with peasants who worked with no energy or interest. They were all under the casually watchful eye of a tall woman dressed in black.

  The huge shed filled with brandy barrels drew Sura’s attention next. She wandered over to the shed and looked up at the big stack of barrels, sniffing at the lingering scent of fruit and alcohol.

  The pile seemed to be eight barrels wide by two deep – and three entire barrels high. Sura sauntered about the pile to reach the rear of the shed, then picked a random set of casks. She rapped upon the barrel ends, and found them all to be full. The fox walked back out to the open side of the shed, and rapped upon a final barrel. She leaned upon her spear and considered the gigantic store of brandy, scratching slowly at her ear.

  That was one hell of a lot of bandy. Priestess Toriē Shiku was apparently expecting one hell of a party.

  The fox shook her head.

  A soft, regular sound came to Sura’s ear – quiet, yet almost mechanical. The fox tilted her head, questing… She moved forward, heading past peasant huts and quietly back towards the inn.

  One of the peasant houses had its wooden screen doors wide open. Sura crept innocently forward, or at least as innocently as a woman armed with a spear could reasonably hope. She peeked into the house with her tail curling softly out behind her, peering into the delightfully neat space within.

  She gazed into a room with a few woven mats upon the floor. A bed was set neatly in one corner, and a little hearth stood in the middle of the floor. A teapot sat beside the fire and a few old, dented utensils were stacked off to one side.

  The woman Kimiko was on the porch at the far side of the hut, sitting by the open screens and working quietly at a loom. Sura tiptoed softly into the house. She saw that the baby was lying safely asleep in its bed.
/>
  The fox edged over to check upon the baby. The little creature had thrashed in its sleep, and the blanket was all rumpled. Sura laid down her spear and knelt to smooth the blankets back in place, ensuring all was well.

  The baby was smiling softly in his sleep. Sura smiled in return. She reached out and gently smoothed the infant’s hair, smiling wider as she felt his tiny, perfect little ears.

  There was a presence behind her. Sura gave a great, guilty jump. Chiri stood in the doorway. The fox hastily brushed off her hands.

  “I wasn’t touching it! I was just looking for my damned blanket!”

  Chiri looked warmly at Sura.

  “It is alright, friend Sura. Your secret is safe with me.”

  Chiri was still quietly stroking Daitanishi, trying to keep him calm. The little earth elemental was definitely keeping out of sight. Bifuuko clung in her accustomed place in Chiri’s hair, forever keeping an eye open for danger.

  The rat spirit walked quietly into the room and knelt beside the baby. She combed back her own long hair, and caressed his face.

  “You do not like babies, Sura san. “

  “I like them fine!” Sura tugged her breastplate straight. “Just not… not when they’re drooling on me.”

  Chiri glanced subtly behind her, checking that they were currently unobserved. But there were no forest folk nearby, and Kimiko seemed absorbed in her weaving. She conferred quietly with Sura.

  “There are seven guests other than ourselves. All were met upon the nearby roads by black-clad villagers and invited here for a feast.”

  Sura sat and folded up her arms.

  “They’re up to something. You should see their brandy stash! It’s big enough to drown a dragon!”

  Chiri peered inside her robes at Daitanishi, feeling truly puzzled.

  “Daitanishi is truly frightened. And I cannot use earth magic. Something has chased the earth elementals all away.”

  “Can he tell you what’s wrong?”

  Chiri cast a patient glance at the fox.

  “He is a rock, Sura san. He doesn’t talk much.”

  Sura bit her lip.

  “Oh.”

  Kimiko came into the hut, carrying a newly woven bolt of brilliant white silk. She faltered as she saw her visitors sitting beside the baby. Sura and Chiri rose and bowed, and Chiri made immediate apologies.

  “Forgive us, Kimiko san. We felt a desire to sneak a glance at the baby as he sleeps.”

  Sura pointed hurriedly at Chiri.

  “She wanted to! I just came along. It was on my way!”

  Kimiko put the silk upon a shelf, stiffly trying not to look at the baby or at her visitors. The long golden streaks in her hair glittered in the light.

  “You are most welcome, honoured travellers.” She turned away in shame. “After all, the child is yours.”

  Chiri looked at Kimiko in concern. Her voice was filled with gentleness.

  “Please excuse us, Kimiko san, but Tonbo informed us of your recent tragedy.” The rat spirit moved closer to Kimiko. “Please – is there anything we can do to help you?”

  Kimiko moved away. She was stiffly fighting back tears. The woman refused to look at her two guests.

  “I am sorry, Chiri san. I am a samurai’s wife. I should be brave!”

  Sura felt for the woman. Her pain was terrible.

  “We have imposed upon you at a terrible time, Kimiko san.”

  “No no! The baby is good for me. You have all been very kind.”

  Head bowed and face hidden, Kimiko turned towards the porch. Her voice was filled with shame.

  “Please – we must not wake the baby. Let us move outside.”

  The three woman tiptoed out of doors.

  The porch opened out onto a little yard shared by half a dozen huts. A group of peasant women all worked beneath the shade of a thatched shed roof. They were working at looms and creating beautiful silks, moving with a grace that spoke of long, skilled practice.

  Two armoured guards were at the edge of the yard. They kept a quiet eye upon Chiri and Sura. The fox and rat pretended to pay them no attention. Sura immediately stepped from the porch to look more closely at a nearby loom. She was deeply impressed – the silk had a glittering wave pattern somehow made by varying the twist upon the threads themselves. Sura’s eyes were wide.

  “Kimiko san! This is extremely beautiful.”

  “Thank you, Sura san.” There was a glimmer of true pride in Kimiko’s sorrowful voice. “We are artists, not mere labourers.”

  Sura made a great show of examining the silk. But from the corner of her eye, she saw yet another guard. The men were clearly here to permanently watch the silk workers.

  “Yes, so I see…”

  Chiri walked beside Kimiko, peering quietly at the silks upon the looms.

  “Kimiko san – the baby does not yet have a name. We have spoken amongst ourselves, and we wonder if you might have any suggestions of your own?”

  Kimiko shrank slightly away.

  “Me! No. No - I have nothing to suggest.”

  She turned, making certain that the sleeping baby was still just in sight. She looked longingly at the little child.

  “He is very beautiful.”

  Sura leaned thoughtfully upon her spear. “What would you call him, Kimiko san?”

  “I – I do not know.”

  “What was your late father’s name?”

  The young village woman hung her head. She answered only in a hollow whisper.

  “Saburo.”

  Sura nodded. “With your permission, perhaps we might call him Saburo.”

  Kimiko turned herself away.

  “I… If you wish, Sura san. I am unworthy of such a compliment.”

  Kimiko suddenly turned and ran. She fled off between the huts, deeply upset, looking as if she might be ill. Sura let her go, watching thoughtfully, then scanned the other weavers from the corner of one eye.

  The peasant women were all stiff faced – with fear, or with shame? They never once looked directly at Sura and Chiri, but glanced at them with occasional horrified flicks of their eyes. The guards all quietly watched Sura and Chiri from afar, keeping them under constant observation.

  No one else was talking. Chiri and Sura departed the area quietly – making one last check upon the baby. Feeling many eyes upon them, they walked quietly off together back towards the inn.

  At the rim of the village, giant spiders gathered, watching silently from the dark…

  In the evening, a dozen bonfires ringed the village clearing, tended idly by black-clad guards. Peasants laboured to drag in more firewood, working in miserable silence. The flames glowed a sullen orange, lighting the trunks of the nearest trees. Back in the shadows, spider eyes glittered with a sinister, intelligent light.

  The village inn was the centre of yet another gorgeous feast. Lanterns had been hung in the courtyard, their light shimmering from a koi pond set beneath a great, broad cherry tree. Tatami mats had been set out for the diners, and four peasant women were playing instruments. Delicious scents from the kitchens made for a perfect setting for a feast.

  Priestess Toriē swept grandly into the courtyard with several of the other travellers in her wake. She saw the Spirit Hunters and Sano Moko entering from the other doors, and greeted everyone with an effervescent bow.

  “Did you see, dear guests? The spiders fear flame. They are so easily countered, once their habits are known. We have lived safely amongst them for generations!” She waved a hand, dismissing the monsters entirely. “But now, we have a feast! What is the point of having bounteous food and drink if it is never shared with friends?”

  One of the brandy casks was manhandled into the courtyard by peasants, urged onwards by laughing guards. The priestess clapped her hands together in joy.

  “Normally we save the brandy for the great festival night. But never before have we had such skilled, distinguished samurai as guests! Hospitality demands that we accord you a taste! This is our very fine
st. Please, there is no need to hold back. Your enjoyment is our good luck!”

  She waved her guests onwards to the feast. The travellers moved eagerly to their places, where they sat amongst black-clad men and women who were all holding out cups and calling for drink.

  There were guards in the shadows, all discretely keeping the Spirit Hunters and Sano Moko under observation. Sura pretended to see none of them. Instead, she seized Tonbo by the arm and chivvied him eagerly over to the tatami mats. Peasant women were already hastening into the courtyard bearing dinner trays for the guests – an initial course of soup and artfully arranged slivers of sauced crayfish, fish and water vegetables. The brandy cask was broached at last, and the powerful scent of strong drink flooded the yard. A dipper was used to fill large flasks rushed to the village’s guests.

  Sura reached out to take possession of a flask brought to her by a smiling guard. She smelled the heady aroma of plum and alcohol. The drink was powerful enough to water her eyes.

  “Brandy!” The fox joyously poured herself a cup. The liquor was dark and gloriously golden. “Wow!”

  Kuno watched with suspicion as a smiling black-clad woman poured him a brimming drink. He leaned over to murmur into Sura’s ear.

  “Be careful. Their liquor is potent!”

  “Never fear! I have a cast iron stomach!”

  “Too bad your head is made of glass.”

  Sura puffed out her chest. She poured a cup for Chiri.

  “Chiri will match me cup for cup! Won’t you, Chiri?”

  The rat spirit looked unhappily at her cup. She sniffed at it, pink eyes full of uncertainty.

  “I – Sura, I do not drink!”

  “Don’t insult our hosts! You heard them. Our enjoyment is their good luck!” She drank. “Kampai!”

  The brandy was like being punched in the head by a plum-flavoured battering ram. Sura shook her head and made a sound of delight – more than just a little hoarse. Her cheeks immediately flushed pink.

  She motioned the others to drink up – urging Sano Moko to heft her cup. The others sipped – showing expressions varying between surprise and alarm at the sheer potency of the drink. Sura chivvied them onwards, making certain everybody drained their cups. Chiri went into a coughing fit that almost cost her both lungs.