The Convict's Sword by I. J. Parker

people? Are they mad?” He wiped the dirt from his face and looked around him. The ragged creatures had retreated; a few were nursing bloody noses and black eyes. Dull, hostile eyes.
    “This is a bad neighborhood,” said Tora, shaking a broken fence rail in their direction before giving him a hand to get up. “They don’t like officials here.”
    “Outrageous!” Akitada glowered at his attackers. “Who threw that rock?” he demanded. There was no answer, but they retreated a little more. He raised his voice. “Where is the warden for this quarter?” They began to melt away, slinking along the wall of the building and disappearing down alleyways. “It seems they do have a little respect for authority,” Akitada said sourly, feeling a tender lump on the back of his head. “I suppose the fellow got away.”
    “Afraid so. When I saw the crowd going after you, I turned around. I expect he’s long gone by now.”
    Akitada scooped his hat from the dusty road, brushed it off, and tucked it into his robe. “I’m going to have a word with this Kata. You go take a look around the neighborhood. See what you can find out about Haseo’s double.”
    Tora trotted off, and Akitada approached the training hall again. The master, surrounded by his pupils, was waiting. The pupils looked belligerent, their hands on their swords, but the master bowed deeply. He had the broad, flat face and squat build common among the peasants of the South, but his military stance and the scars on his face told Akitada that he had an army background.
    “You are Kata?” he demanded.
    “Yes, that is my name.” The man bowed again. “I hope the gentleman has not suffered any ill effects from this stupid mistake?” The students eyed Akitada as if they hoped the opposite.
    “Mistake? Someone threw a rock at me, and then a crowd attacked me. I might have been killed. Did you see who was involved?”
    “I’m very sorry, but I was in the middle of a lesson. There are many rude and stupid youngsters about.” He turned to his students. “Did any of you see anything?” They shook their heads as one, and chorused, “No, Master.”
    A lie, of course. Kata had been looking at Akitada only a moment before the incident. Akitada narrowed his eyes. “I wish to speak to the man who stood behind you and left just before the incident. What is his name?”
    Kata gestured. “These are all of my students for today. Please feel free to speak to the one you mean.”
    “No. There was another man. Back there.” Akitada gestured to the back of the hall. “He spoke to you and then left.”
    “He spoke to me?” The master looked blank. “Impossible. Nobody interrupts me during a lesson.” He turned to his students. “Isn’t that so?”
    They all nodded and said in unison, “That is so, Master.”
    Akitada let his eyes move from face to face. They gloated, each man locking away his knowledge firmly. For a moment he was tempted to force the issue, but they all clutched their wooden swords and poles, and his ragged attackers no doubt still hovered nearby.
    “I shall report this incident to the authorities,” he threatened. “They will get the information from you, or your business will be closed.”
    Kata bowed, but not soon enough. Akitada had caught the fear in his eyes.
    He met Tora coming back from his own futile errand and told him about Kata’s words. Tora said angrily, “He lied. And those students are cutthroats if ever I saw any.”
    “Probably. The man is nervous about being investigated. Whatever his background, and I suspect he’s a former army officer, he’s illegally training common roughnecks.” In order to keep the peace, the carrying of arms was strictly regulated in the capital. Only men of good family and their retainers could carry swords, but few paid attention to such laws any longer.
    Tora looked back over his shoulder. “I wouldn’t be surprised if Kata was training them to be bandits.”
    “And the fellow who ran away