It was a hoary joke in Home Dimension, but it made Yezjaro laugh all the way to the cellar where the hot saya awaited them.
Blade saw no more of Lady Oyasa as time passed. Except when the whim took her, she apparently stayed in proper seclusion in the women's wing of the sprawling castle. The approaches to that wing were guarded by booby traps (or so Yezjaro said), by a contingent of six-foot eunuchs, and by several of Lady Oyasa's personal maids who had taken training in arms.
Yezjaro pointed out one of them as the one person in the whole castle who probably knew the most about the affairs of the warlord and his family. He also warned Blade against trifling with her.
Blade hardly needed the warning. Lady Musura was not unattractive, although rather gaunt and well into her thirties. But she sported a collection of scars on the right side of her face, and normally carried at least two knives in her sash. She was reputed to have been-when younger-a jinai, one of the sworn order of assassins and secret agents serving the Hongshu. When these grew too old, some retired to the special secluded villages maintained by the jinai clans. Others renounced safety and seclusion and remained in the outer world. Only a few took service with warlords, but even those who did always remained to some degree their own masters.
Certainly Blade could not imagine anyone getting from Lady Musura a loyalty she was not willing to give. Always taciturn, seldom smiling, the only time she apparently cared to speak to Blade was when they were on the archery range. Although her lighter bow could not carry as far as Blade's seven-footer, she could match his shooting within the range of about two hundred yards.
It was not much of a bond between them, but it was one that enabled two otherwise different people to talk to each other. Both were experts in the skills of a warrior, and both turned out to have an equally keen eye for intrigue and conspiracy.
This also meant that Blade learned more about the situation facing Lord Tsekuin than Yezjaro had ever cared to tell him. As much as people tried to keep their worries off their faces and out of their conversation, no one in the castle had much real hope for peace. That the Hongshu would move against Lord Tsekuin sooner or later was more or less assumed. Lady Musura suspected that the move might take place during the forthcoming journey of Obedience to the Hongshu's capital.
«The journey must be made once every four years,» she said. «Four years ago our lord's father was alive, and the Hongshu respected him enough to deal justly with him, for all his growing wealth. And the eldest son was also alive then, a formidable warrior. But now both are gone. You have seen the man who now rules this fief as the Lord Tsekuin. Are you surprised that the Hongshu thinks he may be easily separated from his great and growing wealth?»
«Not at all,» said Blade. «I am surprised that he has waited so long.»
«The journey of Obedience is the best occasion,» said Lady Musura. «Lord Tsekuin will be in the Hongshu's capital, ignorant of the etiquette of the court, with only a small retinue of picked warriors. He will never be more at the mercy of the Hongshu and his various chancellors, who have even more greed and fewer scruples than the Hongshu himself.» She hesitated before going on. «Perhaps he has also been waiting to be sure that the emperor will not interfere. But I doubt that.»
«Why? Is the emperor that helpless?»
«To some degree, yes. There have been emperors with the skills to make their 'strong younger brothers' walk a straight path in dealing with loyal warlords. But he who sits upon the Sun Throne today-«Her voice trailed off.
Blade finished the sentence mentally. A weak or self-indulgent emperor, a strong and unscrupulous Hongshu, and a foolish, headstrong, and ill-informed warlord. Those who were predicting trouble during the journey of Obedience seemed to be making sense.
Chapter 10
Gaikon's year moved on toward spring. The snow melted on the mountains to the west, swelling buds made the trees a green haze on the hills, the farmers worked late in their paddies setting in the fresh shoots. Winter clothing and winter quilts were stored away one by one. Yezjaro moved his sword practice with Blade out into one of the courtyards.
The year was also moving toward the journey of Obedience. People no longer made any particular effort to hide their concern about it, although they said more to Blade with their faces than with their lips. Only Lady Musura continued to speak freely. Blade found himself more than willing to join the hunts that Yezjaro and other senior dabuni organized in the forests that lay between the castle and the mountains. Like them, he needed something to take his mind off the approaching crisis.
The morning of his fourth hunt, Blade awoke to find an arrow sticking in the wall above his head. It had obviously been fired in through the narrow latticed window during the night. Blade did not need the letter that was tied around the arrow to know that it could only have been fired by Lady Musura. No one else in the castle could have hit the narrow window from the nearest place that offered a clear shot, a good hundred and fifty yards away.
The note said:
«I will speak to you with another arrow today while you ride on the hunt. Ride so that none may overhear.»
Blade couldn't help wondering what Lady Musura had in mind for him if he followed her request-and what she had in mind for him if he didn't. But if she felt he was dangerous, she could and would pick him off when and where she chose. Besides, his curiosity was aroused. So he decided to watch for her arrow and then «listen» to what it might say to him.
It bothered no one when Blade asked to ride in the rear of the hunting party. Except for Yezjaro and Doifuzan, the gray-haired first dabuno of Lord Tsekuin, most of the warriors of the castle found Blade a little hard to understand or accept. Therefore they never objected when he chose to remain a little apart.
The six hunters rode in silence for several miles, then dismounted to cross a shallow river by a ford marked by two large yellow-barked trees growing side by side on the opposite bank. Blade was just stopping his horse to remount on the far side when he heard a faint whuffff overhead and a slightly louder chunk. He recognized the sound of one of Lady Musura's special silent jinai arrows, and looked up. The arrow was sticking into the right-hand tree about three feet above Blade's head. He swung up into the saddle, waited until the last of the other hunters was out of sight ahead, then stood in his stirrups and pulled down the arrow.
The paper around this one read:
«At sunset, the arrow's feathers bid you to the correct path.»
Blade looked along the direction from which the arrow had come. The «correct path» led straight downstream for about a hundred yards, then vanished into the forest again. When he had memorized the direction, he urged his horse forward to catch up with the rest of the hunting party.
The day's hunting was for wild mountain sheep, elusive game that more often than not led their hunters a merry chase over mile after mile of countryside. So Blade only had to be a little «careless» in keeping track of his fellow hunters in order to find himself alone as the sun began to sink toward the horizon. By the time it had dipped to the treetops, he was back at the ford.
Blade dismounted and led his horse along the bank of the stream until the forest began to close about him. Then he found a concealed place to tether the horse, took his spears, and struck off into the trees.
It was heavy going. The shadows were already thick and the heavy underbrush made it difficult to keep on course. Blade could not help wondering about his chances of getting anywhere in this unknown forest after darkness came down. He had the feeling that he might wind up getting lost. That wouldn't be dangerous, but it would be embarrassing.