troubles with pilgrims, rowdy couriers and passing samurai.
They came at last to the centre of the village, where a great, tall, spindly watch tower stood beside the road. A collection of frightened village women and children stood at the bottom of the tower, all holding lanterns. None of them seemed to have the slightest idea of what to do.
The immense man armed with a mallet conferred with the women. He returned leading a nine year old boy by the hand. He sketched a bow to Sura.
“ Honoured Spirit Hunters! Our head-man lies dead atop the watchtower. My son found him there when he came to bring him hot tea.”
Kuno looked up at the tall tower. It had been made from four long spindly tree trunks, with a solid wooden platform at the top, and an old gong to help sound the alarm in case of bandits or forest fire. It soared forty feet above the village, and would have a clear view during daylight of the road, woods and hills in all directions. Kuno mused upon the platform, stroking at his chin.
“When was the body found?”
“ Not twenty minutes ago, honoured samurai! The culprit was clearly at hand, and so we gave chase!”
Sura scratched at the root of her tail, looking at the rickety platform high above.
“ So is the body still up there? No one’s messed with it? You’re sure no one’s touched it?” She saw the villagers all nod – all of them wide-eyed as owls. Sura began tying back her sleeves. “All right. Tonbo – let’s go see what we can see. Kuno san – perhaps you can ask our nezumi friend if she saw or heard anything?”
Sura left her spear in Kuno’s care , then took a lantern in her teeth. She swarmed up the tower with her long tail bobbing behind. Tonbo followed her up the ladder at a steady pace, wooden rungs creaking ominously beneath his weight. Kuno watched for a while, then turned to the rat woman at his side.
The woman was still fright ened – though far, far less so than before. Her strange companions, the rock and insect, floated in the air beside her. The blue insect fussed with her hair, grooming her briefly, then settled in place as though it were a magnificent hair ornament. For its own part, the rock seemed to regard Kuno carefully. It clearly held some very deep suspicions.
The ne zumi girl had a grace of carriage and a gentle intelligence that immediately struck the heart. Kuno stared for a moment, quite entranced. He had never seen anything like her in all his live-long days. He bowed to her, suddenly feeling oddly shy.
“I am Asodo Kuno.”
“I am Nezumi Chiri, honoured samurai.” Her bow had the flawless ease of good breeding. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Kuno felt pleased. The girl’s long hair seemed to drift like moonlight in the soft night breeze. He felt the floating rock’s considering eye upon him, and made an effort not to stare at the girl.
“Forgive me, Chiri san. I have never made the acquaintance of a rat spirit before. Although we were aware of the river clans near my home.” He inclined his head. “The nezumi are an ancient set of families, I believe?”
Nezumi Chiri gave a rueful nod. “Not so flamboyant or as powerful as the fox clans, I am afraid. We are creatures of the towns.”
“F rom your speech and demeanour, Chiri san... Clearly you are born to a family of some importance?”
The girl looked aside – polite, yet clearly embarrassed.
“ Yes, Kuno san. But... circumstances can change.”
It was clearly a painful subject. Kuno – a creature of quite delicate sensibilities – tactfully moved away from the subject. He turned to inspect the road.
“ So, Chiri San. The villagers found you beside the road?”
“ Yes, Kuno San.” The girl indicated a place at the base of the gulley, not forty paces away. “I was asleep just there – just where the trees meet the road.”
“ And you heard no sounds? Saw nothing to alarm you?”
“No, Kuno san. Nothing until the villagers found and attacked me.”
“The villagers
They came at last to the centre of the village, where a great, tall, spindly watch tower stood beside the road. A collection of frightened village women and children stood at the bottom of the tower, all holding lanterns. None of them seemed to have the slightest idea of what to do.
The immense man armed with a mallet conferred with the women. He returned leading a nine year old boy by the hand. He sketched a bow to Sura.
“ Honoured Spirit Hunters! Our head-man lies dead atop the watchtower. My son found him there when he came to bring him hot tea.”
Kuno looked up at the tall tower. It had been made from four long spindly tree trunks, with a solid wooden platform at the top, and an old gong to help sound the alarm in case of bandits or forest fire. It soared forty feet above the village, and would have a clear view during daylight of the road, woods and hills in all directions. Kuno mused upon the platform, stroking at his chin.
“When was the body found?”
“ Not twenty minutes ago, honoured samurai! The culprit was clearly at hand, and so we gave chase!”
Sura scratched at the root of her tail, looking at the rickety platform high above.
“ So is the body still up there? No one’s messed with it? You’re sure no one’s touched it?” She saw the villagers all nod – all of them wide-eyed as owls. Sura began tying back her sleeves. “All right. Tonbo – let’s go see what we can see. Kuno san – perhaps you can ask our nezumi friend if she saw or heard anything?”
Sura left her spear in Kuno’s care , then took a lantern in her teeth. She swarmed up the tower with her long tail bobbing behind. Tonbo followed her up the ladder at a steady pace, wooden rungs creaking ominously beneath his weight. Kuno watched for a while, then turned to the rat woman at his side.
The woman was still fright ened – though far, far less so than before. Her strange companions, the rock and insect, floated in the air beside her. The blue insect fussed with her hair, grooming her briefly, then settled in place as though it were a magnificent hair ornament. For its own part, the rock seemed to regard Kuno carefully. It clearly held some very deep suspicions.
The ne zumi girl had a grace of carriage and a gentle intelligence that immediately struck the heart. Kuno stared for a moment, quite entranced. He had never seen anything like her in all his live-long days. He bowed to her, suddenly feeling oddly shy.
“I am Asodo Kuno.”
“I am Nezumi Chiri, honoured samurai.” Her bow had the flawless ease of good breeding. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
Kuno felt pleased. The girl’s long hair seemed to drift like moonlight in the soft night breeze. He felt the floating rock’s considering eye upon him, and made an effort not to stare at the girl.
“Forgive me, Chiri san. I have never made the acquaintance of a rat spirit before. Although we were aware of the river clans near my home.” He inclined his head. “The nezumi are an ancient set of families, I believe?”
Nezumi Chiri gave a rueful nod. “Not so flamboyant or as powerful as the fox clans, I am afraid. We are creatures of the towns.”
“F rom your speech and demeanour, Chiri san... Clearly you are born to a family of some importance?”
The girl looked aside – polite, yet clearly embarrassed.
“ Yes, Kuno san. But... circumstances can change.”
It was clearly a painful subject. Kuno – a creature of quite delicate sensibilities – tactfully moved away from the subject. He turned to inspect the road.
“ So, Chiri San. The villagers found you beside the road?”
“ Yes, Kuno San.” The girl indicated a place at the base of the gulley, not forty paces away. “I was asleep just there – just where the trees meet the road.”
“ And you heard no sounds? Saw nothing to alarm you?”
“No, Kuno san. Nothing until the villagers found and attacked me.”
“The villagers
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