The Way of the Fox (47 page)

Read The Way of the Fox Online

Authors: Paul Kidd

BOOK: The Way of the Fox
11.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

They all arose,
wiping mud and debris from their equipment. The sunset had faded into great bands of beige and purple light, and the marsh was a mass of shadows. Kuno looked dubiously at the dark maze of mud and reeds.


Sura san… Can you really outrun all those crabs? Even the giant?”

Tonbo
spoke up “Easy,” he nodded. “You should see her at full speed. Her tail is like a fire arrow.”


Well then. Let us move swiftly.” He moved to Rokuko san and bowed. “Honoured elder – we will take you to the boat, where you will be safe.”

“Yes – yes, so I heard, honoured samurai. My hearing is excellent.” The old woman heaved herself painfully to her feet. “I regret that I cannot be of much assistance to you.”

“You have begun the mission well, grandmother. Please allow us to assist you by taking on the work.”

“Yes, young man. W
ell said.” She clomped forward, straightening up. She unerringly moved towards the west. “This is the way, I believe.”

They moved on through the marshes, with Sura and Tonbo in the lead. The returning ti
de leaked and trickled, filling the air with the slow sound of water. Night insects whirred and chattered in the leaves. Tonbo found their own tracks entering the marsh, and took a sure course back towards the lagoon.

Night had finally fallen, and the moonlight transformed the marsh into a maze of black shadow and silver light.
The little lagoon lay still: the muddy shore was far smaller now as the waters crept inward. The Spirit Hunters halted in the dark of the trees and looked towards the reed banks where the fishermens’ punt had landed them in the marsh.

All seemed quiet
, but Kuno signalled the others to sink into cover and be still.

The night insects had all gone strangely s
ilent…

Sura lifted her muzzle and sniffed carefully at the breeze. She caught a sharp, unpleasant scent of unwashed human and bad sakē coming from a stand of reeds. She silently pointed out the position to Tonbo. The man nodded and moved carefully forward, his ar
mour invisible in the darkness.

Daitanishi and Bifuuko
merged into the dark, floating off to take a silent cruise behind the reeds, reappearing long minutes later as noiselessly as they had left.

The elementals returned to Chiri and communed with her in the dark. The rat spirit came stealthily over to her friends, and pointed out positions in the reeds
two dozen yards away.


Twenty men – possibly more. There, behind the reed cover. Many archers.”

A
harsh voice suddenly crowed out from behind the reeds. The chief whaler half rose out of the distant shadows. He planted a harpoon into the muck beside him.


Hey Grandma! Grandma, you old blind bitch! How do you like the mud?”

From his position in the shadows of the trees, Kuno stiffened, utterly incensed.

“Disrespectful cur!”

Behind him, Rokuko made a weary noise.

“But he is right, honoured samurai. I am indeed his grandmother.”

Sura turned to look at the woman
– enlightened indeed. Old Rokuko san rose up and limped wearily forward to the edge of the trees.

She called out
towards the lagoon.


Kenta chan – what is it you want with these people?”

Red Kenta st
ood up, blade hand gleaming. He wore a looted breastplate – a ludicrously fine piece of work with embossed leather covering the chest. His huge lieutenant, no-dachi slung across his shoulders, tossed his leader a bottle of sakē. Red Kenta gave an immense laugh and drank a toast.

“What do I want?
Why to talk, of course! To see why strangers have abducted my dear grandmother!” He waved the bottle in invitation. “Have their spokesman come out to talk to me!”

Kuno sheathed his sword and prepared to rise. Rokuko grimly stopped him, signalling him to stay in place.

“Do not move, samurai san! My grandson is a murderer of the worst kind. He would shoot you down the moment you were foolish enough to rise from cover.”

Chiri was quite alarmed. “
Surely not!”

“Stay.” Sura’s voice was
soft and calm. “She knows her man. She knows him all too well.”

The old woman hung her head.

“The fault is mine. I gave him our village as a refuge in which he could grow into the creature you now see.”

Sura nodded.

“You knew that they were pirates.”

“Yes, Kitsune san.
He came to me, promising his men would bring new wealth to the village – and to me. It was I who convinced the villagers that Kenta’s men were merely whalers. But they have been the death of the village. We had to cease sacrificing to the sea kami, otherwise it would have wiped them from the sea. The sea kami does not look kindly upon murderers and thieves.” Rokuko san straightened her back. “Each sailor that they killed is also blood on my hands. I do not even know if the sea kami would deign to receive my prayers.”

The old woman strode suddenly forward.

“I take responsibility for my actions. This must all cease!”

Rokuko moved before Chiri could stop her.
The old woman hobbled out into the open.


I am their spokesman, Kenta. Say your piece.”

The whaler gave a sneer.

“Bring out your friends, old hag!”


No, Kenta.”

The old woman’s voice was calm and firm.

“You are my grandson. Although your life has become a stain on my heart, I offer you this in love! Renounce your crimes. We shall find a monastery, and both retire to seek what peace we can.”

Red Kenta
brayed with laughter. His roaring voice carried over the swamp.


Peace? In the grave, there is peace enough!” The man drank again. “So where were you off to, you old hag? Off to call your sea kami and set things right?”

“I will now
atone for past mistakes.” Old Rokuko raised her walking stick to point unerringly towards Red Kenta. “Your crimes are abhorrent. By condoning them, I have become a part of them. The lives you have taken are on my head as well as yours.” The old woman walked forward. “I must make up for my sins. I must be able to answer for those lost lives!”


Then apologise in hell!”

Red Kenta hurtled his harpoon. The vicious blade slammed into the old woman’s chest. Chiri
leapt up and raced forward to seize the old woman as she fell.

“Rokuko san!”

A pair of whalers rose from the reeds and fired arrows at Chiri. Bifuuko whipped through the air, knocking both missiles aside. Chiri dragged the old woman back into cover, pulling her down behind a tree.

A dozen whalers leapt out of cover. They unleashed a flickering storm of arrow fire into
the shadows all about the Spirit Hunters. Tonbo hauled a fallen tree across, covering Chiri and Kuno as they dragged Rokuko deeper back amongst the brush. Arrows hissed and skittered, whipping through twigs and branches.

Sura heaved a great clot of grass and soil over to a nearby t
angle of brush. The archers instantly opened fire, arrows scything into the empty bushes. She slithered back down behind the trees, where Kuno and Chiri had raced Rokuko over to the waterside. Chiri brought water elementals surging up out of a nearby creek – long brown creatures shaped like eels. They plunged into the blood-smothered old woman while Chiri desperately tried to bandage Rokuko with her robes.


It is too deep. The water elementals cannot help!” Chiri looked to Sura, stricken. “I cannot save her.”

Kneeling calm and resolute, with arrows flying in the dark above, Kuno turned and bowed to Chiri and Sura.

“Sura san! Chiri san! Go and summon the sea kami. Tonbo and I will guard your backs.”

The fox was utterly appalled.

“We can’t leave you here!”


We must all use our skills to the best advantage. Please go.”

Sura looked at Kuno.

“It’s ten to one!”

The samurai swivelled to look
towards the whalers. He turned back, and gave a bow.


They are facing Spirit Hunters.”

Tonbo came forward and nodded to Sura. Torn, Sura wavered. But th
e fox bowed to the two samurai and planted her spear butt first into the mud. With a flash and sparkle, she changed into fox form and came wriggling up out of her empty clothes.

Water elementals did w
hat they could, surging and shimmering – but Rokuko was dying. Lying in the mud, the old woman groped into her sleeve and withdrew a tiny clay vial.

With it s
he caught some of her own tears. Hand shaking, the old woman stoppered and pressed the vial into Chiri’s hands.


Chiri san. These tears I shed for our village – not for myself.” She arched with pain. “Give them to the kami, and please tender my… apologies. My love.”

Chiri held the dying woman’s hand
, utterly ashen.


Rokuko san…”


I thank you all for showing me how to re-attain my path.” Rokuko released Chiri’s hand. “Go, child. Swiftly. Go to the crooked tree…”

Chiri drew away, weeping. An instant later she was in rat form
, out of her clothes, holding the vial in her mouth. She raced to Sura and leapt upon the fox’s back. Sura sped off into the marsh, vanishing into the shadows. Bifuuko and Daitanishi sped off on her tail.

Tonbo and Kuno watched them go. They tightened armour
, settled their helmets into place and moved forward to the edge of the trees.

In the darkness overhead, arrows flickered, whirring uselessly out into the marsh.

At the edge of the lagoon, Red Kenta strode forward towards the high ground. He turned, signalling to his men, sending them up and into the reeds.


Fan out! Drive them back against the water. Hunt them down!”

The w
halers raged forwards: twenty savages in looted armour, armed with bows and swords. Watching from hiding, Tonbo made a grunt of anticipation.


Archers in front. Swordsmen back behind.”

Kuno nodded beside him.

“Come.”

They withdrew back into the shadows
and knelt beside the old blind woman.

Somehow, Rokuko dragged herself upright. She breathed raggedly through her agony.

“Give me a good, heavy branch, Tonbo san – then go.” The old woman’s voice was firm. “Go with the gods, my sons. I shall wait here – to regain my honour.”

The old woman
crawled towards the reeds. Tonbo brought her a long, heavy branch to use as a club. Kuno gave the woman a profound, respectful bow.


My deepest respects to you, Rokuko san.” Kuno held his bow. “Farewell.”

The whalers were coming. Kuno and Tonbo
slid off into the darkness, moving fast, watching their enemy who stood out in the moonlight. The two men eyed the enemy formation, exchanged a brief signal, then went their separate ways.

The
pirates forged forward into the dark, their leader and his massive lieutenant behind them. The men called out to each other, aiming to drive their prey out…

 

 

Lithe and
shockingly swift, Sura raced through the marsh as only a fox could, leaping high over tussocks and plunging under fallen trees. She sped so swiftly that the mud never had time to slow her. She raced over a mud flat, hearing a crab burst irritably up behind her long after she had gone.

Daitanishi and Bifuuko swerved and zipped alongside her, wildly dodging through the undergrowth. Chiri clung onto Sura’s fur for dear life, somehow keeping the tear vial clamped between her jaws. She reeled, daz
ed, as weeds slapped at her. Great splashes of muck fountained up all around her as Sura plunged through shallows and leapt clean over the creek banks beyond.

More crabs were
swarming through a mud patch up ahead. The fox raced clean over them, using them as stepping stones. She laughed, tail flying behind her, dodging the occasional giant crab claw as she ran. Chiri gave a squeak of fear as a set of huge pincers scythed past just overhead, clashing uselessly behind as the fox raced onward. Sura gave a whoop of joy, laughing again as Daitanishi veered aside and smacked a nearby crab across the eyestalks. The crab hissed in annoyance, but Sura and her companions were long gone, trailing a fox’s laughter off into the dark.

 

 

In
the darkness by the lagoon, the pirates waded forward through the reeds. They moved in groups, separated out by the terrain – some lagging, some surging forward. Red Kenta and his lieutenant drove them on, shouting at the groups who vanished into the dark. The men kept arrows nocked to their bowstrings, watching for the first sign of their enemies fleeing ahead. They hooted and yelled, the sounds echoing eerily all up and down through the reeds.

Other books

Lone Eagle by Danielle Steel
Postcards from Cedar Key by Terri DuLong
Jubilee by Patricia Reilly Giff
Fifty-Minute Hour by Wendy Perriam
Water Witch by Jan Hudson
Sold To The Sheik by Alexx Andria
To the Hilt by Dick Francis