Part 24 (1/2)

The clerk told them that the remaining travellers and wagons had rea.s.sembled and, after giving evidence and filing a list of the valuables that had been plundered, had been allowed to proceed. Did they intend to rejoin the convoy? They did. The clerk promptly provided them with a laissez-pa.s.ser to get them across the ferry.

It was all quite bewildering. From past experience, both women knew that any procedures involving the issuing or examination of doc.u.ments usually took hours, sometimes the better part of a day - no matter how piffling the transaction might be. Their audience with this particular clerk had taken less than an hour and they had not even been required to 'polish the table' - the phrase used to describe the payment of bribes. Billed as voluntary donations to a.s.sist the widows and orphans of low-paid clerks, such payments were on a scale which varied with the importance of the doc.u.ment required, and ensured that paperwork did not go astray. It was an entrenched tradition and everybody, from the top man down, had a hand in the pot.

Bobbing up and down from the waist, Su-Shan and Nan-Khe withdrew from the clerk's presence and turned to beg the a.s.sistance of the kindly innkeeper. They had some money that the ronin had not found. Was it possible to hire a pushcart for themselves and afinrikisha for their mistress? It was. The G.o.ddess of good fortune had smiled on them yet again. Both vowed to offer gifts and burn many joss-sticks in her honour at the next shrine they came to.

Having released the captives, n.o.buro now led the column on a circuitous route which took them across the highway west of the three women and into the trees on the other side.. Dawn came, and soon the forest was pierced by slanting rays of light. Pausing only to feed themselves and the horses, the ronin pressed on throughout the day and the following night, riding first north, then east across the Susquehanna River where it swept into a narrow right-hand bend on its way south to Harrisburg now a ferry-crossing known to the Iron Masters as Ari-saba. The Susquehanna was the border between the domain of the Se-Iko and their eastern neighbours, the Mitsu-Bis.h.i.+ - staunch allies of the Shogun.

Provided they kept a low profile, n.o.buro and his men were relatively safe here.

They camped on the top of a forested ridge - one of the many hundred that Steve had glimpsed from his tree-top perch and had likened to the wave-crests of an endless tree-covered ocean. n.o.buro allowed his men three hours' sleep then, after a pre-dawn breakfast, the column swung south in a wide curve around Arisaba.

Steve, who had been noting the various changes of direction, sensed that their present course would eventually lead them back to the highway. As on the previous day, they stayed on the back trails and rarely broke cover. Each time they had to cross open ground, they sent a scout on ahead to spy out the terrain, and when they stopped to water the horses and let them crop patches of gra.s.s, everyone stayed in the saddle.

In the middle of the afternoon, n.o.buro gave the signal to halt and dismount. Apart from a few mild canters, the horses had covered the ground alternately walking and trotting, and were thus in fairly good condition when they were unsaddled. The same could not be said for Steve. As soon as he was released he slid to the ground, sank gratefully against the nearest tree and stayed there.

Over the last three days, at his reckoning, he had been in the saddle for almost a day and a half. At this point, death would have been a blessed release and the direst threats his captors could utter would not have persuaded him to get up on a horse again.

As it happened, his mood of grim determination coincided with their arrival at the place n.o.buro had chosen to lie up for the rest of the day. So for the next eight hours, the only movement demanded of him was to sit up on the one occasion he awoke to find that a bowl of food had been thrust under his nose.

While Steve slept, n.o.buro stripped off his dusty clothes and washed himself from head to foot in the stream that ran past their camp site.

After a vigorous towelling, he opened a saddlebag and took out the travelling dress and wig of a samurai. Two of his men helped arrange the folds in his tunic and made sure the wig was seated properly.

Several more swapped the harness on his horse for a more elaborate set decorated with blue ta.s.sels, and laid a black cloth trimmed with blue over the horse before replacing the saddle. n.o.buro slid his two swords through the folds of the sash around his waist and, when he was a.s.sured that his appearance was correct in every respect, he mounted his horse and rode away accompanied on foot by two ronin dressed up as red-stripes.

Their destination was the post-house at Midiritana where he had met with the Herald Hase-Gawa some ten days earlier. Hase-Gawa had stepped out of the darkness swathed in black from head to foot like a ninja, and would no doubt appear in similar guise tonight.

n.o.buro smiled at the role the Herald had adopted.

Despite his obvious, flair for intrigue, the young man was a romantic at heart, with a taste for drama. In n.o.buro's view, an ill-fitting combination. Nevertheless he was a Herald - and only the brightest and most capable young men were selected for that prestigious post. n.o.buro concluded that Hase-Gawa must have other, less obvious, qualities to recommend him.

Flanked by the two red-stripes - the customary escort for a single samurai - n.o.buro arrived at the post-house around six in the evening, intending to make his usual careful check of the location and the travellers who were planning to stop there overnight. He knew HaseGawa was anxious to hear his report on the outcome of the raid and his examination of the masked courtesan. The Herald would not be disappointed - but what would he make of the valiant gra.s.s-monkey who claimed to be a long-dog?

Entering the courtyard of the post-house, n.o.buro was surprised to see a large number of loaded ox-wagons, some of which looked vaguely familiar. Parked alongside them was a carriage-box. Pa.s.sing the reins of his horse to one of his red-stripes, he dismounted and strode boldly around the veranda and terraces of the post-house, eyeing the faces of all those he encountered. One of them belonged to the master of the convoy his ronin had raided! By the sacred kami.t It had rea.s.sembled and was stopping here for the night!

n.o.buro knew there was no danger of being recognised and accused of banditry. He had been masked during the attack and dressed as a disreputable, down-at-heel character. But what an odd coincidence!

Making his way back to the courtyard, he met with an even bigger surprise. Only yards from where his own horse stood between the two disguised ronin, the two Vietnamese house-women were helping the masked courtesan down from a jinrikisha!

This was no longer mere coincidence, decided n.o.buro. Fate had conspired to bring the players in the drama together on the same stage.

He would make his promised report to the Herald, but he would also arrange for the young man to discover the truth for himself!

n.o.buro watched discreetly from a distance as the two house-women were brought to the convoy-master, who welcomed them back into the fold and helped them secure the best possible accommodation for their 'mistress'. When she had been whisked out of sight, n.o.buro sought out the innkeeper and his wife and announced that he wished to discuss a matter of some importance with them in private.

The innkeeper, who - like all men who plied his trade - was the social inferior of the samurai, led n.o.buro into his private quarters with the usual bowing and sc.r.a.ping, to which his wife added her abject apologies for the miserable state of their abode, et cetera, et cetera.

Once the niceties had been observed, n.o.buro adopted a cross-legged position facing the kneeling innkeeper.