Shike – Day 13 of 306

“I’ll slice that smile off your face and your head from your body, monk.”

Ikeno lifted his great sword over his head to bring it down on Jebu. At that same moment, taking three quick steps towards Ikeno, Jebu drew his own blade back, one-handed, then whipped it around in an arc completed so quickly the sword seemed at one moment to be poised over Jebu’s right shoulder and at the very next to be beside the left. Jebu relaxed, dropping his hands to his sides. He knew he had killed Ikeno.

Ikeno stood silent and motionless, the long, gleaming blade raised to shoulder height, still tightly gripped in his gloved hands. The anger in the samurai’s face faded, became horror, then agony. The mouth fell open. The eyelids fluttered. The sword fell from the hands with a clang, and the hands dropped limply. The whole body began to lean forward, falling from the feet. A thin ring of bright red appeared around the dirty brown neck.

Then, suddenly, the head separated from the shoulders and fell to the dirt and stones of the path. Blood fountained up, hissing, from the stump of the neck. The body stood like a pillar for a moment longer, then collapsed with a crash of steel and leather on top of the severed head.

The three tsuibushi dropped their naginatas, screamed and ran. Unhurriedly, Jebu strode back to Hollyhock, took his small bow from its saddle mount, nocked an arrow with a willow leaf head and fired. One of Ikeno’s men fell with the arrow between his shoulder blades. Jebu dropped a second man with another willow-leaf arrow. The third man turned at the edge of the pine forest, fell to his knees and raised his hands in supplication.

Jebu took a coil of hempen rope from his saddlebag and strode up the hill to where the trembling man knelt.

“Please don’t kill me, shiké,” the man quavered. He was cross-eyed, and Jebu couldn’t hold either eye with his own. What would Taitaro say about these jewels?

“Come over here.” Jebu motioned towards a big maple. When he stood under the tree, he cut off a length of rope with his sword and tied the man’s hands behind him.

Taniko rode over to them, her horse’s hooves thudding softly on the mossy hillside. “What are you going to do to him?”

“Cut his head off.”

The man screamed and fell to his knees again. “Oh, no, shiké, don’t kill poor Moko. I have five children. I meant you no harm. Ikeno made me come with him. Moko’s no soldier. He’s just a poor carpenter.”

“A cross-eyed carpenter?” said Taniko. “I’d like to see what sort of houses you put up.”

Moko tried to grin. His two upper front teeth were missing. There was a rare beauty in his ugliness, Jebu thought. In the space of a minute he had gone from thinking of this man as just another enemy tsuibushi to seeing him as a likeable person. I’d really rather not have to kill him at all, Jebu thought.

“I’d surprise you, my lady,” Moko said. “I’m a good carpenter. Please ask this great shiké to have mercy on me. Compassionate lady, you wouldn’t want my six children to starve.”

“Do spare him, Jebu. He’s harmless.”

“Harmless? He’ll be back tonight with a gang of cut-throats.” Good, she’s on Moko’s side, too, he thought. I’ll let her talk me out of it.

“No, I won’t, shiké. Lord Nakane Ikeno was the only real fighter around here. That’s why he was the oryoshi. He forced the rest of us to follow him. None of us men would go out to fight if he hadn’t threatened to kill us. I promise you, nobody will come to avenge Lord Ikeno, may his soul inhabit a nightsoil jar—begging your pardon, compassionate lady.”

“Jebu, I’m going to be married. I don’t want the memories of my wedding marred by an act of cruelty.”

“I thought you considered your marriage to the prince a cruelty in itself,” Jebi said dryly.

“You are impertinent, monk. I do not want this man’s ghost haunting me.”

“Why should he haunt you? You will not do him any harm.”

“You are my escort. Therefore I am responsible for what you do.”

“I am impressed by your sensitivity, my lady. To spare you any pain, I shall spare this man’s life.” He turned to the kneeling carpenter. “All right. You may live. But you must transport Lady Taniko’s baggage to Heian Kyo, replacing the porter that samurai murdered. If you run away, I’ll track you down and kill you.”

His hands still bound, Moko threw himself flat on his face at Jebu’s feet. “Thank you, shiké, thank you. I’ll go anywhere you say. To China, if need be.”

Taniko said, “What about your five children? Or is it six? Surely they would starve if you went to China.”

Moko raised his head and gave Taniko a gap-toothed, cross-eyed grin. “No children, my lady. I’m so ugly no woman would have me. So, no children. A man like me, a mere carpenter of no honour, will say anything to save his life.”

Jebu kept his face severe as he cut Moko’s hands free with his sword. This man was going to be a blessing from the kami. A man who could be amusing in the face of death was bound to be a better travelling companion than any of the members of the Shima party had so far proved to be.

Thanking Taniko and Jebu many times over, Moko ran off to join the surviving porter and the maids.

“I hope your kindness doesn’t bring trouble down on us later on,” Jebu said to Taniko.

Jebu was so tall and Taniko so tiny that even though he was on foot and she on horseback, their eyes met almost on a level. She smiled at him for the first time.

“You are a remarkable fighter, Jebu. I’ve never seen anything like the way you killed that Muratomo lout. When you were fighting him your eyes met mine and I felt something—I cannot describe it. Perhaps some day I will be able to express it in a poem. For now, I want to apologize for my rude words to you. I didn’t want you to spoil my new appreciation of you by killing a helpless man.”

Jebu was pleased, but he kept up the pose of the stern warrior. “An egg is helpless, but it may hatch a deadly serpent.”

“One thing the Zinja taught you well.”

“What?”

“How to be a windy bore.” She whirled her bay gelding and rode off, calling mockingly over her shoulder, “Shiké!”

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