The Way of the Fox (18 page)

They
fled into the stables. With Chiri riding her like a race horse, Sura leapt and raced along a length of fence. A row of samurai’s warhorses were hitched to a railing. Sura ran straight across the horse’s rumps – springing with a fluid speed that left Chiri truly blinking. Grooms shouted – horses reared, scattering the dogs. An immaculately groomed sleeve dog with a bow in it hair went plunging into a pile of warm manure.

Back out on the lawns,
Sura raced past the tournament enclosure. Lord Ishigi and his retainers were sitting atop the dais in splendour, taking a meal. Lord Ishigi saw Sura racing past in her fox form, the white rat riding her back, and a churning horde of yapping, barking, howling dogs thundering behind her. He found the entire situation outrageously funny, laughing as Sura sped off along the garden path.

Sura went c
rashing over a hillock. A lady was being carried in an open palanquin, and Sura leapt clean through, bouncing off the woman’s lap.

“Official business! Coming through!”

The woman’s own sleeve dog burst forth, barking madly – just at the exact moment the horde of dogs came rampaging past. The tiny dog held the breach, causing a massive pile-up of traffic at the door to the palanquin. The hunting dog finally sped off away from the melee, casting about for sight of the fox. The pack came charging after him.

The dog pack rampaged over the
wooden bridge that led across the lake, barking and howling, scattering guards and pedestrians in its path. With no sight of their quarry, they kept charging on towards the distant castle gates, disappearing out of view.

Down in the pond, Sura – now in half
-human form – rose up from under a lily pad. A frog sat atop her head, gazing with indifference out across the world.

Chiri
– also in half human form – surfaced muddily beside her. The dogs were gone. The two naked women sat in the pond side by side, letting mud and weed drip from their snouts. Chiri heaved a sigh, and watched the last of the dogs vanish off into the distance.

“Have we embraced the glamour yet?”

The frog gave a great mournful croak. Chiri’s air and rock elemental emerged from the water, both glowering at the fox in disapproval. Sura regarded all of them with a surly eye.

“Everyone’s a critic…”

The return to the dormitories had to be weathered with what small dignity they could muster. Chiri and Sura marched across the grounds, naked but for an old water barrel worn about their middle. Pond weed dripped dismally from their fur.

Tonbo was awaiting them – leaning against a porch pillar and chewing on a straw. His failure to conceal his amusement did him
little credit in their eyes. Kuno stood talking with the pair of short and tall castle guards, as well as a gaggle of maids. All turned to goggle as Sura marched irritably past.

“Yeah – make a
sumi-ē
painting. It’ll last longer!” Sura lifted her chin as she marched past Kuno. “We have been working the case.”

Chiri had blushed bright pink beneath her fur. Her ears droop
ed flat in utter mortification.

“Gardeners have seen me naked! Now I will never be a bride!” She suddenly had the hiccoughs – her inevitable reaction to embarrassment. “Oh!
Hic!
Oh my!”

The
pair trudged off towards the baths, drizzling muddy water behind them. A dozen guards and ronin laughed as they passed. Kuno drifted over to join Tonbo, and watched the women depart.

“I am certain the explanation for this will be long and convoluted.”

Tonbo nodded, greatly amused. And then – good soul that he was – he went off to brew some tea.

Chapter 8

The guesthouse baths were broad, clean and wonderfully quiet. At this time of
the afternoon, Sura and Chiri had the entire bath house to themselves. They seethed in the hot water with towels draped over their heads. Even the two little elementals were there – each with its own small cloth. They all floated and steamed, stung by embarrassment, brooding over the events out in the castle yards.

Sura floated like a frog, with just her furry head and muzzle breaking the surface.
She squirted water out of her hands, greatly irritating Daitanishi the rock elemental. She rose higher out of the water and gave a frown.

“I still say its good information! See? We know there’s a rift in the
sword school’s ranks.”

Chiri wrinkled her nose. “But is it useful information?”

“Could be. Who knows…?”

Both women sighed and pondered.

Chiri wrung out her long white hair, coiling it to lie in a great silken rope between her dainty breasts as she leaned back against the rim. She made a little frown.

“I am not certain that a ducking in a pond is an auspicious event.”

“Nonsense! We needed it to free ourselves of our preconceptions.” The fox waved a black-furred finger.

“On
ce upon a time, the abbot Baiyun Shoudan of the Song Dynasty was travelling to a festival. He wore embroidered robes, a lacquered hat, and travelled in a palanquin painted grandly in blue and gold! On their way across a bridge, his bearers tripped, and flung the abbot headlong into a muddy pond. When he emerged, he was laughing! He cast aside his hat, and spoke this poem:

“I have one jewel shining bright.
Long buried it was beneath worldly woes.
This morning, the dusty veil is gone, and its lustre is restored!
Illuminating rivers, mountains and ten thousand things!"

The fox laid back in the tub and laughed quite freely at herself: the virtues of the fox.

“The Great Fox Spirit is kind! What could be more auspicious than a reminder never to take ourselves too seriously?”

Chiri gave a rueful smile.

“The Great Fox Spirit has an interesting way of demonstrating his affections.”

“Hey – it’s tough love! Tough – but fluffy.” Sura eyed Daitanishi. “Should we polish your pet rock? It really brings out his colours.”

Chiri took charge of the little rock elemental and rested him upon her
chest. “Perhaps not. It makes him quite grumpy.”

“
Not much change then.” Sura examined the little rock with interest. Fist sized, he could pack quite a wallop when moving at speed. “Can you summon more of these?”

“Of course, Sura san. Many! But to what purpose?”

The door to the dormitories slid open, and Sano Moko walked in. The woman saw that Sura and Chiri were already in the bath, and immediately turned about to leave. Sura splashed over to the rim and called out to stop her.

“Moko san!”

The samurai woman bowed, keeping well within the door. “I had not realised that the bath was occupied.” She moved back towards the door again. “Please excuse me.”

Sura bounced half out of the tub. “No no no! Stay, stay!” She cajolingly waved a wash cloth. “I’ll do your ba-aaack!”

Sano Moko gave a sniff. “No thank you.”

“Want to do mine?”

Moko glowered at the fox. “Not particularly.”

“So I’ll just pry for information, then?”

The samurai woman looked to Chiri in annoyance. “Are all foxes as persistent?”

“I fear so, Moko san.” The rat gave a polite little bow of her head. “We are trying to be of help. Please assist us to assist you.”

Bowing to the inevitable fates, Sano Moko sat down heavily on a stool beside the bath. Sura swam over and hung her muzzle over the rim, dripping water from her whiskers.

“So hey! You knew Hamada Bunji before coming to the tournament?”

The woman thought about her answer, mulling it over, then finally gave a terse nod.

“Yes.”

Sura gave the woman a wry glance. She wove her muzzle about, looking at Moko from different angles as the woman tried to avoid her eye.

“Yes
… And he was your best friend? Yes, and he used to paint moustaches on all your dolls when you were a kid? Yes, and he used to beat you up in the nursery…?” She gave a shrug. “Eh – well, maybe you used to beat him up. Whatever!”

Chiri – a far more polite and mannerly creature, stepped in before there was a riot.

“Please excuse us, Sano Moko san. But can you perhaps cast more light on your relationship? We are trying to gain a picture of Hamada Bunji, so that we may better understand the fate that overtook him.”

Moko san sighed. She sat back and flicked a glance at Sura –
her dislike was clear – then scowled at the floor.

“I knew him.” Moko’s
shoulders were stiff and set. “He was a student at the Osada martial arts school, on the Sano clan’s estates. When I was accepted as a student there, Hamada Bunji left the school in protest.” Sano Moko’s voice was filled with bitterness. “He said that a woman’s influence would dilute the purity of the school.”

Sura lolled in her bath.
“And that made you angry.”

“Yes, Kitsune san. It made me angry.”

“So angry that you half hoped he would one day give you a chance for a duel?”

The fox had pricked perfectly at Sano M
oko’s temper. The samurai started up from her seat. “I could have beaten him! His technique was flawed! He was never my equal!”

Sura leaned her face upon her hand – quite, quite satisfied.

“And now you will never know.” She wagged a finger. “Personally, I think you would have beaten him.”

Sano Moko turned and looked down at Sura.

“His insults were public. Had I wanted Hamada Bunji dead, I would have met him blade to blade, where all the world could see.”

The fox was utterly in agreement.

“I believe you. Swordy folks are all about the blades! You don’t train twenty hours a week for ten years with a sword or a naginata, and then hide in the bushes and strangle people!” She half emerged from the tub, quite carried away in the moment. Sura was far more voluptuously built than either Chiri or Sano Moko. “No – you guys are all about the mighty duel in the sun! Standing in the street – the wind blowing through your hair. Your opponent frozen by the icy glint of your gaze. The steel of your heart matched only by the steel of your soul…”

Sano Moko looked at the
naked fox in annoyance. “Something of the sort.”

The woman rose to leave. She gave a stiff bow towards Sura, Chiri and the watching elementals.

“I wish you good luck with your investigations.” Sano Moko sustained her bow. “Kitsune san. Nezumi san. I will leave you to your bath.”

The woman left – as bad tempered as ever. Chiri watched her shadow against the screens, then made a thoughtful sound.

“I am not sure that Moko san is fully receptive of your friendship.”

Utterly unconcerned, t
he fox gave a happy wave. “What? Of course she is! I’m totally lovable!” With a great splash and cascade of water, Sura levered herself up and out of the bath to stand dripping on the floor. “It’s getting late. Come on, let’s get the boys working!”

She shook herself like a wet dog, drenching everything
in sight – Chiri, the elementals, walls, floor and ceiling. Chiri bore it with fortitude. She immersed herself again, and arose up and out of the bath, heading for her clothes.

Damp, dressed but clean, the two women emerg
ed from the bath house. Outside on the porch, they found Kuno taking careful statements from three guards who had been stationed on the castle walls the previous night. Tonbo – who went about his detective duties wearing armour and carrying his tetsubo – looked up from speaking with two of the ronin partygoers from the night before. The entire group made an ironic nod as Sura and Chiri approached.

Sura walked past them, feigning total unconcern. She collected her spear from the
wall beside Tonbo and struck a heroic pose.

“Right! I have a new plan. Let’s get back to basics and inspect the crime scene once again.”

Kuno gave a delicate bow. “A most excellent suggestion. The gardeners, incidentally, send their compliments.”

Chiri jerked with the hiccoughs yet again.
Straightening out the rat’s long hair, Sura favoured Kuno with a lofty glance.

“I am pleased that I could elevate an otherwise humdrum, ordinary day.”
She imperiously indicated the far end of the dormitories. “Now
do
get a move on. You are disturbing the nice rat!”

Still greatly amused, Tonbo and Kuno both bowed and allowed Sura to lead the way. Muzzle high and tail sweeping regally behind,
the fox moved onwards towards the morning’s crime scene.

They came to Hamada Bunji’s room, and Sura’s jaw almost dropped clean from her skull.

The entire place was sparkling clean.

Ma
ids were still bustling in and out. The tatami mats had all been changed, the walls wiped and washed – doors polished and screens dusted. Incense had been burned. The maids all stopped and stared in shock as Sura gave a great wail of despair.

“You
cleaned
Hamada’s room?”

The maids looked at one another in
distress, swiftly falling to their knees to bow to the fox. One shuffled forward, deeply distraught.

“The room was contaminated by death,
priestess! As a priestess, surely you realize…’

“
Damn it!” Sura put a hand over her eyes, trying to regain her temper. “Alright – where are the things you took from the room? I need it all back here on the porch, right now!”

Maids raced off to do as they were told – all as pale as ghosts. Sura dropped down to sit on the floor. She looked up at
Tonbo and Kuno, utterly mystified.

“Humans! They’re going to drive me bald!”

Feeling drained and depressed, Kuno rubbed at his eyes.

“All the evidence – gone!” He gave a hollow stare around the spic
and span room.
“I am still the most obvious culprit. They will, of course, give me the option of suicide. I shall have to put my mind to my farewell poem…”

Sura winced.

“Just as long as you don’t read it out in public.”

Ever practical, Chiri changed into her rat form and clambered up onto the
roof. The little creature bustled about and carefully searched for clues. She finally appeared in the high, small window, pretty whiskers framing her narrow face. A grey dust lay thick upon the windowsill, making the little rat sneeze. She flicked it fussily from her feet.

“
I still cannot see any evidence that the roof has been disturbed.” Chiri gave another sneeze. “The windowsill seems not to have been dusted in months.”

She jumped down, borne gracefully floorwards by her air elemental. Tonbo held out robes for her, and the rat changed into human form inside them, emerging to wipe her hands clean of dust.

Maids and male servants arrived, carrying a hefty load of quilts, futons, a wooden pillow, swords and robes. Sura leapt up and eagerly plunged into the middle of it all. She began turning over robes, and called out to a departing maid.

“And the tools you used to clean the room with! Every mop, every cloth, every bucket!”

“Yes, Kitsune san!” The maid bowed again and again. “Yes! Yes!”

Everything arrived, load by l
oad, to be laid out carefully on the porch. Sura began going over every single item in the collection, her pointed nose sniffing and eyes missing nothing. It was careful, time-consuming work. Tonbo joined her, examining scuffs and stains.

The golden light of afternoon came slanting through the trees, stretching great long shadows all across the lawns.