The moon had not yet risen in the sky but, in the center of Kamakura, lantern light shone and people were still wandering the streets in its mellow glow.
As Kaze left the center of the town, the lights and people became fewer, until he was alone on the path to Hishigawa’s villa. Kaze could hear the quiet chirping of insects as he made his way between the dark trunks of trees that lined the path. His footsteps were muffled by the dirt and pine needles on the trail. As he approached the villa, his acute senses detected something besides the insects. He slowed his progress, straining to hear something besides the natural rhythm of the night.
There. He heard it again. The crackling of small tree limbs and the movement of bodies through the trees that bordered the path. Kaze stopped and stared into the darkness, drawing his sword from its scabbard and waiting to see who or what was hiding by the side of the pathway. He wondered if this was the prelude to another assassination attempt.
Suddenly a shape came flying out of the night from the deep woods. It landed on the ground behind him, barely missing his side. It was a spear.
Moving instantly, Kaze dashed into the woods, blending into the darkness and using the tree trunks to shield him from another spear. He could hear the rustling of several bodies in the woods, fleeing. He increased his speed, dodging one dark tree trunk after another, constantly moving in the direction in which he could hear the others escaping.
Ahead he heard a cry and a crash, and he knew one of his assailants had fallen. With the agility of an acrobat, Kaze dodged tree limbs and tree trunks and in seconds came across a dark shape picking himself off the ground. Kaze kicked the shape, and it went flying to the earth again, crying out in pain. Then it started shouting, but shouting something that Kaze could never have imagined.
“Obaasan! Obaasan! Grandma! Grandma! Help me! He’s got me. Grandma-”
Kaze walked up and put his foot on the shape, giving it a second shove before it could scramble to its feet.
“Grandma,” the shape screamed, “please help!”
Suddenly there was a crash to his right, and two additional shapes emerged from the darkness of the forest.
“Let go of him or I’ll kill you!” It was an older woman’s voice, but as sharp and authoritative as any samurai’s.
“I don’t really want to let go of him,” Kaze said. “In fact, I’ve been looking for all of you ever since the last time I saw you.”
“Who are you?” the old woman snapped.
“I’m the samurai you met at the teahouse many days ago. The one who fought a duel.”
“You!” the woman said.
Kaze nodded and realized that the woman couldn’t see him in the dark, so he said, “Hai! Yes.”
“Why are you after my grandson?” the woman demanded.
“Because your grandson plays dangerous games,” Kaze answered.
Kaze let the young man scramble to his feet. “I got scared,” the youngster admitted. “He knew we were hiding in the woods, so I threw my spear and ran.”
“It doesn’t do much good to hide when you make as much noise as you did,” Kaze said. “Stealth requires silence as well as cloaking yourself in darkness.”
“Thanks for the lesson,” the old woman said with sarcastic gruffness. “What do you want?”
“Well, I suppose I could ask the same thing of you,” Kaze said, “because apparently you are watching Hishigawa’s villa.”
“You’re the one who said you’ve been looking for us for days,” the old woman declared. “Now you tell us.”
Kaze smiled. The old woman would have made a good field general.
“I am Matsuyama Kaze,” he said, bowing, even though they couldn’t see his gesture in the dark.
“And I am the Elder Grandma of the Cadet Branch of the Noguchi family,” the woman said.
“When I first met you, you were on a vendetta,” Kaze said. “Did you complete what you set out to do?”
“I don’t think I should tell you,” the woman said.
“Why not?”
“Because Hishigawa is the person we have a vendetta against.”
They sat around a small fire burning on the dirt floor of an abandoned temple not too far from Hishigawa’s villa, where the ragtag trio bent on revenge had made camp.
“So what is it you want?” Elder Grandma said. She was flanked by her young grandson, Nagatoki, a youth of about fifteen, and by her aged servant, Sadakatsu, who was tall and cadaverous. Neither of the two males said a word.
“I want information,” Kaze said.
“What kind of information?” she asked.
Kaze reached into his sleeve and took out a scrape of cloth. He opened it up and held it so that it could be seen in the light of the fire.
“Do you see this crest?” he said, pointing to the design on the cloth. It was the three plum blossoms.
“Yes,” Elder Grandma said, showing no surprise at Kaze’s display of the cloth.
Kaze looked at her and thought that this was a frightening woman. She was as tough as any man and as shrewd in any negotiation as the wiliest of peasants.
“This is the crest of the family I used to serve before they were eliminated in the aftermath of Sekigahara. I obtained this cloth from your grandson. It was wrapped around some rice crackers.”
She gave a quick glance to her young grandson, who seemed frightened at the mention of him.
“Were those from the supplies we brought, Nagatoki?” she asked.
“Yes, Elder Grandma,” Nagatoki said. “I’m sorry, but-”
She cut him off. “Never mind. Don’t speak unless I tell you to.”
Turning to Kaze, she asked, “What is it you want to know about that cloth?”
“I want to know where the cloth came from and if, by some chance, it was associated with a young girl. The girl would be nine now, but she was seven when I lost track of her.”
Elder Grandma sat back. She was sitting on her heels, her legs tucked under her. “I know where the cloth came from. And I will tell you. But you must do something for me.”
“What?”
“Kill Hishigawa.”
“I’m not a murderer,” Kaze said.
“But you’re a samurai.”
“Yes, and as a samurai I kill. But I do not murder.”
“What’s the difference?” Elder Grandma said aggressively.
“Murder is unjust. If I kill, it may simply be the luck of battle or it may be because the world is better off with someone dead. Murdering Hishigawa to get you to tell me about a scrap of cloth is not just. You have a vendetta against him, but I do not. You may have a good reason to wish him dead, but I do not. You must kill him, because I will not.”
Elder Grandma pointed to her headband, emblazoned with the kanji character for “revenge.”
“Do you see this?”
“It’s hard to miss.”
“The Noguchi clan has an official vendetta against Hishigawa. He killed my son and stole one of his daughters. Hishigawa did business with my son before Sekigahara, providing weapons to our clan. He saw my son’s daughter and became possessed by her. If it wasn’t my own blood, I would have said she was a fox-maiden, because Hishigawa was so totally enamored of her that it was almost like a man who is seized by a fox-spirit who is masquerading as a woman.
“He sent an evil hag called Ando to act as his go-between, to arrange a marriage. My son refused. Despite Hishigawa’s wealth, my family saw no profit in linking its long lineage with a grubby merchant like Hishigawa.
“Soon my son’s house was attacked by Hishigawa’s thugs. They killed my son and stole his daughter, giving us the basis for our official vendetta against Hishigawa. Weeks ago, my grandson, Mototane, went to enforce the vendetta against Hishigawa and to bring back my granddaughter, his cousin. He was a superb swordsman and a brave warrior, and he should have been able to kill Hishigawa. If he didn’t have the chance to kill him, he should have been nearby waiting for that opportunity. Instead, I have seen no sign of him.