Blood Ninja (24 page)

So totally had he and the rest of the inhabitants of Shirahama been influenced by heroic tales of Lord Oda, that even to say this small thing seemed a betrayal.

Heiko stared. “Gods. Yes. It would explain why you have the bow. And then there’s the abbess’s prophecy. She said the shogun would be the son of an ama mother. She didn’t say anything about the
father
.”

Taro swallowed. She was thinking the same thing as him. She was groping at the same vast and improbable architecture. He could think of nothing to say.

Clearly interpreting his silence as confusion, rather than shocked wonderment, Heiko said, “I wonder … What if the bow were given to you as a … a talisman, or an heirloom? Something like a seal, to prove your provenance? I mean, for the son of a fisherman to be shogun is one thing. But for the son of a daimyo—”

Just then Shusaku walked up to where they sat. He was followed a moment later by Yukiko and Hiro, who looked worn out. “Getting to know each other?” he asked Taro and Heiko, his voice a little sharp.

How long was he listening?
thought Taro.

“Yes,” said Taro. He watched in a sort of daze as Shusaku turned away from them and tended the fire.

Heiko looked at Taro, then at Shusaku. She sighed, then stood up, holding the bow.

“Shusaku,” she said. “I think you’d better tell us what’s going on. What does Taro have to do with Lord Tokugawa?”

Yukiko stared at Taro. “What?”

The ninja straightened up, slowly. He folded his arms. “What gave it away?”

Heiko held out the bow. “Tokugawa’s
mon
. Carved on the inside.”

Shusaku sucked air through his teeth. “I should have paid more attention.” He drew his
wakizashi
, and for a crazy moment Taro thought he was about to run Heiko through, kill her for working out the secret. But he just flipped the blade into his hand, then proffered the leather-bound grip to Heiko. She took the sword in her hand.

“I still have mine, too,” he said.

Taro moved closer to Heiko, looked down at the little stamp at the base of the blade, the one he had noticed in Shirahama and then forgotten about. The
mon
that marked the ninja out as a vassal of Lord Tokugawa Ieyasu.

Shusaku took his sword back. “I stopped being a samurai when I died on a battlefield and was reborn a ninja. And I stopped caring about most things when the woman I loved was killed. But there is one thing about me that will never change. My life is dedicated to Lord Tokugawa, and I will protect him and his own from all injury and harm.”

He stepped closer to Taro.

“And that includes his family.”

A hush fell on all of them. Taro felt Heiko’s hand tightening on his arm. Hiro was looking at him with wonder in his eyes.

“You see,” said Shusaku, “Heiko was right when she said that the son of a daimyo might have a better chance of being shogun one day. The truth is, Taro, you are Lord Tokugawa’s son.”

Taro stared at the ninja who had saved his life, who had led him hundreds of
ri
from home, who had shown him the best and the worst of a warrior’s life.

“I’m Lord Tokugawa’s
son
?” he asked. “So my parents …”

“Are not your parents. Yes.”

Taro felt the ground give way beneath his feet. His father, who had fished the shore of Shirahama all his life; his mother, who had dived its coral reefs … In his mind they were
safety
and
love
and
respect
and
home
.

But it seemed they were not
Mother
.

Not
Father
.

He sat down.

Shusaku bowed to him in the deep style reserved for the very upper ranks of samurai. “Tokugawa-
san
,” he said, “I am sorry for keeping this from you.”

No one had ever bowed to Taro like that before. It made him uncomfortable. “Please,” he said, “stand up.”

Shusaku rose slightly from his bow. “Tokugawa-
san
,” he said, “forgive me for keeping this from you. I did not know how to tell you.” He bowed again. “Lord Endo Shusaku is at your service.”

“Lord?”

“Not anymore. But once, yes. The days when I owned land and people are long gone, however. Now I own nothing but my sword.” Shusaku indicated his
wakizashi
.

Hiro looked at Taro, then at Shusaku. “You’re
both
lords?” he said. “And me a peasant wrestler. My parents would be so proud.”

Yukiko was just opening and closing her mouth, and Taro almost wanted to laugh. She had been so jealous to see him already turned, and now he was a lord, too.

Taro left her gaping and smiled at Hiro. “You had better start bowing to me,” he said to Hiro. “Or I will have you beheaded.”

Hiro shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ll simply switch my allegiance to Shusaku—Lord Endo, I mean. He’ll protect me from your violent excesses.”

Shusaku smiled too. “I would gladly accept it, were you not already a true friend to Taro here, and the best of retainers.”

Despite himself, Hiro blushed with pride.

“My … My parents,” said Taro again, and was again unable to complete his question.

“Your parents are merely peasants. I believe your mother helped Lord Tokugawa once, when the ship he was aboard ran aground. Lord Tokugawa trusted her.”

“She’s also an ama,” said Heiko. “Like the abbess said.”

“Indeed,” said Shusaku. “A shogun born of an ama … Perhaps it was no coincidence that Lord Tokugawa left you with your mother. Perhaps fate was at work when he left his son with a lowly fisherwoman—”

“My mother is not
lowly
,” spat Taro.

“No—no,” stammered Shusaku. “I meant—”

“They are the people who raised me,” said Taro, still angry. “My mother is my mother. And I will still find her when she writes
to me; I will still go for her when that pigeon arrives. Do you understand, Ninja? I love her. I will not see her come to harm on my account.”

Shusaku bowed deeply. “Of course. And I will help you find her, as I promised. She is the woman who brought you up, who fed you, who embraced you, who healed your boyhood injuries. Those bonds cannot be cut.”

Taro nodded in return. “Thank you.” And he
was
grateful, truly. He hadn’t known whether to trust the ninja before, had even thought about abandoning him when he knew where to find his mother. But not since he had seen the ninja take on those
ronin
, for no personal gain.

Shusaku sat down by the fire and motioned for the others to sit too. But Yukiko stayed standing. She was staring at Shusaku, her eyes hard. “You brought Lord Tokugawa’s
son
to our house?”

“We needed shelter,” said Shusaku. “Clothes, supplies … I didn’t mean—”

Yukiko snorted. “You didn’t mean what? To kill the abbess?”

“We don’t know—”

“Yes, we do. Probably they are torturing her as we speak.” She turned and fled out of the cave, sobbing. Taro felt awful. He hadn’t wanted any of this to happen; he hadn’t intended for the abbess to be hurt.

He stood. “I—,” he began, but Heiko stood and put her hands out.

“It’s all right,” she said. “She knows it’s not your fault, not really. The abbess believed in the Tao, and so do I. If it was in the Tao for her to die, then it would have happened regardless. We are powerless against it.” She glanced at the cave entrance. “I’ll go after her. She’ll calm down.”

Shusaku nodded. “Go. But be back before sundown.”

“She was already angry that I was made a vampire before her,” said Taro. “She’ll hate me now.”

“No,” said Shusaku. “She has a good heart, just a passionate one. She’ll forgive you. As Heiko says, she knows herself that
it’s not your fault. She just needs someone to blame, for now.”

Taro knew the feeling. He could remember when he had transferred his anger over his father’s death onto the ninja who sat before him, blaming him for his lack of honor, his ruthless attitude. And he liked Shusaku now, didn’t he?

Yes, surely Yukiko would come to see that he was only a pawn in all of this, a single piece on the board, being moved by the great lords.

Shusaku spat into the fire. “There are things we can blame ourselves for, but if we try to claim credit for everything bad that happens, we will drive ourselves mad. Is the abbess dead? We don’t know. Might she have survived if we had not visited her? Perhaps. But
we
did not kill her.”

Taro nodded. It was true, but it didn’t make the guilt any easier to bear.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Then Shusaku held his hand out for Taro’s bow, and turned it over in his hands. “Gods,” he said at last. “Stupid of me not to notice. I did wonder how a village boy came to be armed with such a fine piece. But I assumed your father was a skilled craftsman.”

“But my father
didn’t
make it, did he?”

Shusaku examined it, running his fingers over the belly of the bow, peering at the
mon
. “No. My guess is that Lord Tokugawa made it himself. He is a fine craftsman. Unlike some nobles, he makes it his business to understand the work his vassals do. Only by knowing the daily life of your peasants and soldiers can you hope to rule them.” Shusaku spoke with admiration, and it was obvious that he still held Lord Tokugawa in high esteem. “He must have wanted to give you a symbol of your heritage. Something that would mark you out as Tokugawa if—when—it became necessary to call on you.”

Taro tried to make sense of this. “Why would he call on me? Why would he
hide
me in the first place?”

“Isn’t it obvious? You’re an heir. Lord Tokugawa chose to hide you for your protection. It’s common for the lords who are currently
contesting the shogunate to take one another’s sons as hostages. Lord Tokugawa’s younger son is at this moment a guest of Lord Oda’s, at that man’s castle. He is accompanied there by his mother, Lord Tokugawa’s wife. This means that of Lord Tokugawa’s two acknowledged sons, one is a hostage at the castle of his greatest enemy, and one is—”

“Dead.”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“I … I overheard the abbess telling you. I was in the garden when you were talking.”

Shusaku nodded. “Good. You have a true ninja’s instinct!” He laughed.

Taro drew in a gasp, as something occurred to him. “Lord Tokugawa’s wife. The one who is living with Lord Oda. Is she my mother?”

Shusaku made an evasive gesture. “It seems likely. But a daimyo may name any heir he likes, and is free to father sons with any number of concubines.”

Taro grunted. The mother he had grown up with would always be his true mother, anyway. Let Lord Tokugawa and his concubines remain walled up in their castle. Taro would go with Shusaku to find his mother, and then he would have revenge on everyone who had stolen his life from him.

“So,” continued Shusaku. “One of Tokugawa’s son’s is a hostage. The other is dead. But Lord Tokugawa took the sensible precaution of hiding
another
son with villagers he could trust. The middle one—the one no one knew about. You. A good idea, as it turned out.”

A thought so enormous entered Taro’s head that it filled the confines of his mind, ungraspable, impossible to examine clearly.

“Someone tried to have me killed …,” he began. “And that man Kira was looking for us. We thought at the time it was because of the ambassador’s palanquin. But maybe he was hunting me anyway …”

Shusaku nodded, leaning forward. “Go on.”

“I am Tokugawa’s son. So the person who would want me dead …”

Another nod.

“Is Lord Oda.”

The ninja spread his hands. “And there you have it.”

Taro’s emotions were in turmoil. He had grown up in Lord Oda’s territory. He supposed that had been rather clever of Tokugawa—
of my father
, he corrected. But it also meant that he had been brought up to see Oda as a kind of minor deity, a just leader and a skilled fighter, a sword saint no less. Yet … it was clear that only Oda could have ordered the attack on his home, the murder of his father.

His own attempted murder.

In his mind’s eye, an image flashed. His father’s head, the pool of blood. He recoiled from it as from a snake, but the snake was inside him, and it was a lord who had murdered a fisherman for nothing but power.

Taro fought to reconcile what he had thought he knew with what he had only now learned.

Lord Oda is the murderer. He killed my father
.

So Lord Tokugawa was right to hire those
ronin
to try to kill him. He is noble and wise …