None of them had been much hurt during the fight, although it seemed that Benesato might have some cracked ribs. The injuries probably explained his behavior, as he seemed like a very different person for some time afterwards.
Yabu glanced around the tea-house grimly. Their good luck could not last. Their enemies could see them, send foemen to ambush, and they could not know when or where they would be attacked.
"From now on, we must assume we are always going to be attacked, and from all sides" Yabu said to the others.
"We must have a watch at all times, day and night. We must stay together as much as possible, and move quickly. The attack on the docks made one thing clear -- we must assume any strangers are our enemies, and treat every encounter as a potential ambush."
"Agreed", said Saburo. "We are in the middle of something wicked and dangerous here. It is important that your Lord regains his rightful lands, but there are more important things than that at stake. I do not like to threaten the innocent needlessly, but we cannot afford to be killed by those with the appearance of innocence. This is a thing that goes beyond our own well-being."
"While making my way from Arai province to the Lord's side in Osaka, I found it best to trust no one." Hotaru-no-suke's voice rose from his corner. "It would be best, I think for us to do the same here."
Yabu nodded, his mind turning to Lord Ogame for a moment. Then, struck by a sudden thought, Yabu's weathered face turned gray. "Lord Ogame..."
Junzo looked up from cleaning his swords. "Ogame-sama? What about him?"
Yabu frowned, clearly disturbed. "The arm of our enemy is very long, if he can reach his hand to attack us from ambush in Nippon, and less than a week later muster an attack in Korea. We are being watched from afar, and worse -- the black priest can communicate with his minions at great distances. We are in great danger. But what if Kura turns his attention to Lord Ogame? He does not know what the danger is, and we are far away. What if a dozen assassins attack Lord Ogame, even as they have attacked us?"
"Then we have been played like musical instruments," Benesato spoke up, "skillfully and with purpose. Leading us on this search to make clear the way to Lord Ogame's throat....and the damnation of many souls."
Master Tai smiled slightly and shook his head. "Your young lord is not entirely unprotected in Amakumi-Ji, Yabu. He has his own retainers including the redoubtable Gohei, and the temple itself contains both devout warriors and wise men. I cannot think of anywhere safer, in these dangerous times."
Yabu nodded, slightly relieved, although his face was still deeply lined.
Master Tai's smile faded as he considered their position further. "However, the conjunction of your enemy and the Red Banner Cult goes deeper than we thought. I have no doubt that they were behind the attack today, and wonder what their connection could be. It is all the more important that we reach Master Han. He is an elder of the Jade Phoenix and may be able to shed some light on the matters facing us."
Saburo frowned as he nodded, "There is much that we do not know. Must Kura initiate all the communications at distance or can others speak to him at will? Can Kura speak to anyone or just those with a relic or device of some sort? Can he look upon us or listen to us at any time he desires? What is the source of Kura's black power and can it be attacked in some way? If Kura cannot be attacked directly can he be attacked indirectly? If not indirectly, can he be diverted or misled? Do they already know our intentions here in this land, and the intentions of Lord Ogame back at home? If so, what can they do with this knowledge?
Saburo hissed lightly as the air passed through his teeth. "It is possible enough that we can fail due to ambush in foreign land or home. But there are many vulnerabilities that may doom us ere your Lord regains his lands and the wheel comes full circle on this matter. And truth be told, it is these black arts that trouble me more than any ambush."
"Saburo-san," Hotaru-no-suke said quietly, "I cannot answer all of your questions, but I can tell you what I saw. Kura spoke into what seemed like a small bowl and looked to be conversing with another. I suspect that he can only speak to someone who has a bowl such as his." That said, the young samurai retreated back to his corner, staring only at the mat before him.
Yabu frowned, looking out a window into the street again. "We are fighting blind, parrying blows from a sighted opponent. And in a foreign land, too."
Junzo grimaced and spat.
Yabu paced over to the other window and slid it open slightly, glancing at the street. "Black priests are bad enough without fighting bald men who are bearded like goats and muscled like apes, and won't decently die when hacked into bloody gobbets.
Yabu turned away, sliding the window shut, and looked at the other samurai. "Just before he attacked, did that gorilla not mention a name? Yu Lee, or something like that? That he had told Yo Lee that the Red Banner goons weren't going to be enough? Perhaps we should search for this Yo Yu Lee, and ask him what he knows about bald gorillas, ne?"
The other samurai nodded.
Yabu looked around again, then settled his swords in his waistband. "We will split the night into watches; each taking a two-hour period. Korea seems to have few friends for us."
Saburo stood quietly in the hall outside the rooms of his companions and thought upon the recent events. The two attacks, both in Japan and on the docks in Korea demonstrated that the enemy had knowledge of their plans, and it troubled him. He had thought ghosts and magicians were myths until recently and their existance reminded him how little people know of this world or the next. Now that he knew of their existance he tended to assume that much of the unusual events were due to the black arts and their practitioners. But what if the answer was more mundane, such as a spy in Lord Ogame's camp?
There could be both black arts and a spy working together, of course. The spy could pass on information to the black priest and he could send the news on to Korea through this bowl of his, that's what Hotaru said. And what of this Hotaru? He was a strange man, not entirely what he seemed to be. He knew too much for the station he pretended to play. Maybe he was the spy sent to watch them. But Yabu seemed comfortable around him...
Saburo rubbed his eyes with one hand. There were too many possibilities and not enough answers. You could chase your tail and still never find the answer and the questions would soon distract you from the present. Sometimes it is just best to be focused on the moment and remain vigilant.
The meditation garden beyond the hall was hidden by closed shoji. It was carefully-raked gravel; an island of home in an ocean of Korea.
Several thumps and skittering of gravel brought Saburo's mind to the present. Someone, several someones, had jumped from the roof to the gravel-covered garden.
Saburo started moving towards Yabu's room to waken him, when with a shout a half dozen men leaped into the hall, breaking through the paper shoji. Saburo was stunned by the suddenness of the attack. The next moment a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders and dropped, throwing him backwards to where his assailant rolled into an upside-down crouch and then threw him through the air with a powerful thrust of leg muscles. A brief moment of flight, then he splashed down into the meditation pond in the garden.
Saburo grunted as he landed on his sore shoulder in the shallow water. His face reddened in the night for having been suprised so on his guard, but he could not dwell on it while the others were at risk. He hoped that none would pay for his mistake.
Three assailants broke into the room Yabu and Junzo occupied. The shout had given them time to rise, but they had not had time to arm themselves. Yabu's foot snaked out to meet the chest of the first man to attack, knocking his breath out with a WHOOF of expelled air and leaving him gasping. Junzo cursed as his sword stuck in his scabbard, foiling his iaijutsu draw; Yabu drew his sword more deliberately and engaged the enemy.
The other three attackers broke into the rooms occupied by Hotaru-no-suke and Benesato. T'ai came out of his room and quickly engaged one assailant; Hotaru and Benesato grabbed their weapons and joined the fray.
Saburo drew his sword, struggling to his feet in the garden pond, sopping wet and frustrated. Suddenly he stopped, seeing a figure crouched on the roof in the moonlight, watching the attack. There was no way to tell whether he was friend or foe. As more noise came from the hall where his friends were hard-pressed, Saburo cursed and dove through the ripped shoji into the fight.
Unseen, the lithe figure followed Saburo to the garden, and then to the hallway beyond. Tai had knocked an opponent to the ground, and Hotaru had stepped forward to finish the monk's attacker, when Tai shouted out "Ware behind you -- we are attacked!" He stepped forward to protect Hotaru's back but instead of attacking directly this new foe opened his palm and blew a cloud of dust over Tai and Hotaru. They recoiled, but it had no apparent effect, so Master Tai leapt to the attack. His opponent evaded his strike and in return, flicked a rapid hand past Tai's defences. The priest shrieked and fell, clutching his groin. Hotaru dashed towards him, and as the other samurai emerged from their room, Tai's assailant retreated into the garden, dodging all Hotaru's strokes. He sprang onto a boulder in the meditation garden, where the moonlight revealed his identity. It was a wiry man with a weasely face and a thin drooping moustache. The same one Hotaru had seen before in the fight with Iron Ox.
Hotaru's face and arms started hurting, a burning sensation. The cloud had been some sort of burning or acid dust. The young warrior tried to ignore the pain and continue attacking, but their enemy was as agile as a monkey, dodging attacks and finally leaping up to the roof above the garden, then away.
Hotaru's burns stopped getting worse when washed in the meditation pond. Although very painful, he could continue and perhaps even fight. Master Tai, however, was in bad shape. The monk had been badly hurt before, and a faceful of the burning dust had left him with terrible blisters and sores. The youngest samurai washed his wounds carefully, but the monk needed close care and rest.
Yabu, Junzo, and Saburo collected their wounded enemies. Three were unconscious, badly hurt. They might not live. Three were conscious. Yabu's scarred face was hard as he looked at the three Koreans. He pointed with his spear at the first one.
<You! Speak you Chinese?> Yabu asked in his poor Chinese. The Korean shook his head, ignorant or faking it.
Yabu chopped his head off in one strike of his yari, splattering the other two prisoners with his blood. They screamed in shock and fear.
<You! Speak Chinese?> The other two prisoners nodded quickly, faces taut with horror.
One of the two had been badly wounded in the leg by Hotaru's spear; the other one was largely unhurt. Yabu motioned to Saburo and Junzo; they grabbed him and hefted him up. <You take us where you come from, or we kill,> Yabu said fiercely. The man nodded again quickly, eyes wide in fear. Junzo gagged the man tightly and bound his hands behind him.
The three older samurai left Hotaru with Tai. The constabulary would be coming soon, and they wanted to get as much information as possible before that happened. There were enough bodies and prisoners for the constables in the small group remaining without the one man they took as a guide.
Their prisoner brought them to within a block, pointing out the heavy moon-shaped doors of a strong-looking building. Yabu looked it over. No windows, and a strong gate -- it would be hard to assault. They needed to have surprise.
Yabu gestured to Saburo and Junzo, who pulled the prisoner forward. <Your master name Yu?> The frightened man nodded abruptly.
<Take message your master,> Yabu said. <Attack us means death. Now we know where he live. Soon we come, we kill.> He gestured to Junzo, who took the ropes binding the man and tightly bound his right wrist.
<Hand that attack us,> Yabu continued, <we cut it off>. Before the prisoner fully understood his comment, Yabu whipped out his sword and chopped the man's right hand off. The prisoner gasped in agony, but the gag muffled his scream. He fell to his knees. The gush of blood sputtered, held by the tourniquet on his right wrist.
<Take message your master>, Yabu snarled -- <He start, we finish.>
The three samurai turned back into the darkness, leaving the crippled man to hobble to the enemy kwoon.
Junzo chuckled to himself. Quietly, he mumbled something about 'foreigners' and 'getting theirs'.
Saburo quickly weighed the advantages of attacking Yu and his clan or ignoring them and pressing on. Yu's henchmen had attacked before and would probably not stop after tonight. With Yabu's plan, they at least had the initiative and might be able to eliminate one tool that the black priest had at his disposal. Saburo grunted and nodded approvingly. It was the best move they had in this game.
Tai was awake when they returned to the inn. In a faint voice he advised that they hide out. He knew a place...
The place turned out to be another kwoon; a rival school of fighting to the one run by Master Yu. They moved the same hour, hoping to disappear into the city, untracked by enemy eyes.
The samurai spent a week in hiding. The kwoon they hid in was feuding with the kwoon of Master Yu. Apparently such feuds were common, only kept in check by the constabulary, who levied fines on both sides for fighting in the streets and other dangerous behaviour. When they heard that the samurai planned to assault the other school and teach it a lesson, they volunteered to join in the attack.
"We need a distraction," Yabu said as they sat in the thin winter sunlight in the kwoon courtyard. "The gate is strong, and the walls are high. Like this school, our enemies occupy a building that is easy to defend; hard to assault."
Hotaru gestured diffidently. "I can climb that wall easily enough," the young man said. "Further, I believe I can manufacture a distraction. If I set a fire in the side of the kwoon opposite the gate, that should do."
Yabu nodded, considering the other man carefully. "Aye, that would do well. As Sun Tzu says, 'when fire breaks out inside an enemy's camp, respond at once with an attack from without.' But it will rely on you to open the gates. Can you do that?"
The young man nodded.
Hotaru-no-suke climbed like a spider, making easy work of the outer walls of the enemy kwoon. He spent some minutes watching the enclosure, perched in the darkness of a roof-lintel. Like most such structures it was a C-shape of buildings on three sides of a central courtyard, with the fourth side closed off by a high wall. This wall was pierced by a moon-shaped gate. There were two guards standing there, armed with heavy-bladed staff weapons. The gate was clearly barred.
Opposite the gate was a shrine or temple of some sort; other doors led to buildings of various function all under the same roof.
Hotaru was cautious, moving silent in the night on the tile roof until he was nearly opposite the gate. A high window gave him easy access to an unoccupied bedroom. A fish-oil lamp stood beside the bed.
A moment later he was out the window again, moving quickly to the gate and the oblivious guards.
"Fire! Fire!"
Silk hangings and bedclothes burned quickly when soaked with fish oil and then lit; the room was already well alight by the time the alarm was given, only minutes later. Hotaru looked back across the wall into the street. Invisible in the darkness was a column of men waiting only a hundred paces away. Timing would be very close. Hotaru moved on subtle feet to the edge of the roof and pulled a thin white cloth from inside his clothing. He waved it twice in the moonlight and then dropped it on the far side of the wall as the signal.
Inside the kwoon people were waking up, running to combat the fire. With blade drawn, Hotaru dropped silently beside the two gate guards. One fell without a sound, a gout of blood black in the moonlight, but the second turned in time and blocked Hotaru's blow.
<Alarm! Alarm! We are beset!> The guard shouted, striking at Hotaru.
Hotaru slashed, again and again, but succeeded in little more than blooding the guard. Another moment and more guards would come -- already people in the courtyard had turned and noticed. If he could not open the gates the attack would fail, and he might die.
Hotaru backed against the gate, pressed hard by the guard. Parrying frantically, the slight youth got his shoulder under the heavy beam and lifted it out of its slots. He pushed the gate back, opening it to the outside.
A wave of men came running from the temple and the fire, but they were too late. Yabu and Saburo burst through the open gate, ignoring Hotaru's guard and sprinting into the center of the courtyard. Behind them came Junzo, Benesato, and a stream of allies from the friendly school. The gate-guard's shout of apprehension died on his lips as Hotaru's blade finally found its mark. A wave of martial-arts students flowed in to meet a similar wave in the courtyard.
Yabu led, leaping into the torchlit courtyard, Saburo following behind him. Yabu bellowed his warshout. The intensity of his kiai shocked the flood of oncoming students. Terrible slaughter ensued. Yabu felled half a dozen in a few instants with his whirlwind kata, splattering blood in a huge circle, spinning and yelling and slashing. In the center stood Saburo, surrounded by foemen, content to hold against two and three opponents by fighting conservatively. Junzo fought his way to the right flank, quickly joined by Hotaru; there their flashing blades made quick work of any student who tried to stand against them.
Benesato stood farther back, engaging one student at a time, until suddenly Yabu fell. A student, braver than most, had timed Yabu's ferocious swings and leapt in, striking him with a flying kick to the chest. The old samurai collapsed, stunned, but Benesato leaped forward to strike down Yabu's assailant and stand above him as the older man choked, coughed, and rose.
With a prodigious leap an older man appeared among the fighting waves of rival students. It was Master Yu, the leader of the burning kwoon. His skills did not avail him now -- he stunned one attacking student, and another, but Benesato and Yabu struck him down.
A few moments later and it was over. The samurai stood among a field of their exultant allies; the enemy fled. Saburo struck down another pair as they ran. A dozen of them at least were slain; two dozen more wounded or driven off. With Master Yu dead, the school had been destroyed.
Among the samurai's allies casualties were light. Some bruises, one broken arm, and one or two knocked senseless. Their spirits were very high -- they congratulated each other and the samurai, who didn't understand a word they said.
Standing panting in a shadow, Hotaru-no-suke chanced to look up at the roof. On the skyline, outlined against the sky, he spotted a hulking form leaving. A form with a bald head and a forked beard. Iron Ox