Death at the Crossroads

CHAPTER 18

“I’ll draw a map of the location of the bandit’s camp. The Magistrate can go there to see if there’s any stolen material that can be returned to its rightful owners.”

Kaze was sitting on the worn veranda of Lord Manase’s manor. Before him the District Lord sat, practicing his calligraphy. Manase was once again dressed in layers of colorful kimono and he sat with his brush poised over the surface of a roll of fine paper. Next to him was an inkstone with a scene of grasshoppers carved in bas-relief in the head of the stone. In the well of the stone was high-quality ink, freshly ground and mixed with pure spring water.

Kaze could see Manase’s efforts on the page. It was a practiced hand, but mechanical in its execution. For true practitioners of calligraphy, technique was practiced until it became unimportant; technique was submerged until the practitioner became one with his art. Then true emotion and character could show through in the art. It was similar to what Kaze had been taught in his use of the sword.

Seeing the mechanical nature of Manase’s calligraphy, Kaze realized that he had been teaching himself the arts he practiced and had not been raised in the style he so ardently embraced. Although Manase was a natural Noh performer, his other refinements were recent acquisitions.

“But won’t the bandits object to the Magistrate’s men stumbling into their camp?”

“The bandits are dead or dispersed.”

“Dead?”

“Five of them. The rest have run away.”

“Who helped you?”

“No one.”

Manase laughed. The high-pitched, tittering laugh was brittle and unnatural. “And Boss Kuemon, the bandit leader?”

“Dead.”

Manase carefully put his brush down. He stared impassively at Kaze, his deep brown eyes floating like dual dark suns in the white-powdered sky of his face. Finally, he said, “Excellent!”

Manase shifted position slightly, so he was facing Kaze directly. He gave a slow, graceful bow, which surprised Kaze. “Thank you, samurai-san. This is a wonderful day for this District! Those bandits were becoming very troublesome and bold.”

“I thought that, too. This will be a more peaceful District now.”

Manase stood and went to the door. He slid it open and called out to a serving girl who was walking by. “You! Call the Magistrate and some of the men immediately!” He returned to his position by Kaze and said, “So the bandits are all dead?”

“As I said, only five of them. The rest have run away.”

“And their camp?”

“If you will lend me your brush and give me a piece of paper, I’ll draw a map so they can find the camp.”

Manase slid the inkstone, brush, and a fresh sheet of paper to Kaze. Kaze picked up the brush but hesitated for a second.

“What’s wrong?”

“This is a very fine piece of paper. It seems a shame to waste it on a map.”

Manase waved his hand, as if sweeping dust off a counter. “Nonsense! Please use this paper for your map.”

Kaze shrugged and quickly drew a map to the bandit’s camp on the paper. By the time he was finished, the puffing Magistrate had appeared.

Manase picked up the map and looked at it briefly, then he handed it to the Magistrate. “Here,” Manase said.

Looking a bit befuddled, he took the map and looked at it.

“That is a map to the bandit camp,” Manase continued. “This ronin was able to do in a few days what you have failed to do for two years. He has killed the bandits or driven them away, and he did it by himself. It makes me wonder what you have been doing all this time, besides collecting a salary from me!”

The Magistrate handed back the map to Manase. Instead of taking it, Manase said, “Fool! Take the map and go to the camp. Search the camp and see if you can recover some of the stolen goods.” Manase looked at Kaze and said, “Lately, even I have been a victim of those ruffians. Materials and supplies meant for me were stolen, along with all the other things they took.” Manase returned his attention to the Magistrate. “Well?”

Gritting his teeth, the Magistrate got up and left the veranda. Manase clapped his hands, and soon a serving girl appeared. Manase looked at her and said, “Bring me the second drawer from the cedarwood chest.” The servant scurried out of the room.

“I must think of an appropriate way to reward you,” Manase told Kaze. “Perhaps a banquet or maybe a Noh performance. If that fool finds any money in the bandit camp, I can afford to hire professional musicians and give a proper Noh performance. It will be good to have someone in the audience who can appreciate my art.”

The servant returned with a flat wooden drawer from a wooden chest. In it were several fine kimonos. They weren’t as fine as the sumptuous kimonos and robes worn by Manase, but they were clearly expensive and much finer than the kimono Kaze was wearing. Manase paused for a moment, then picked out a kimono with an elegant pattern of pine boughs, hand painted in indigo blue with a red splash of color on the head of a small bird sitting on a limb.

He lifted the folded kimono out of the drawer and set it in front of Kaze. “This is for you,” Manase said.

Kaze glanced at the kimono. A samurai being given clothing by a Lord was a special and personal reward. It implied that a ronin like Kaze could join Manase’s household, if he wished. Kaze placed both hands before him on the mat and gave a formal bow to Manase. He slid the kimono back to the District Lord, then he bowed again.

After a pause, Manase said, “I see. Too bad.”

“I’m sorry,” Kaze said.

“No matter, it will still add some excitement to this dreary place to organize the celebrations. Please leave now. I have to plan the program of entertainment.”

Kaze bowed and left Manase’s study. He walked to the front of the manor house, put on his sandals, and started walking down the path. He didn’t look back.