woman. “Now you can come peaceful or we can stick you full of skewers.”
And maybe roast a few skewers over a fire after it’s done, Daigoro thought. She looked like she hadn’t eaten in days. But maybe she always looked that way. Maybe that haunted look in her eye had nothing to do with hunger. She might simply have spent too long in the wild.
She stood no chance against Daigoro. His father’s sword was nestled deep in his horse’s pack, but his wakizashi still had superior reach over her knives. He’d already seen that she had a practiced hand, but a thrown knife was a weapon of desperation. It lacked penetrating power, and Daigoro was armored. Unless she hit him in the eye or the throat, he would be on her after the first throw.
And then a hail of arrows would strike him down. Some would blunt themselves on his armor, but not all. Two cornered swordsmen had little hope against seven archers. Even if he and Katsushima somehow managed to find cover, their hunters had only to set fire to the barn. There was no escape.
“How did you find me?” he asked.
“She had help,” said the nearest of the archers. He wore a black hachimaki and an evil smile. Even in the twilight, Daigoro could see his teeth were stained and broken. “Not that it’ll do her much good. Heh heh.”
He loosed his arrow, but not at Daigoro. It hissed as it flew, and punched through the breastbone of one of the other bowmen.
That one let fly as he fell, but his shot wobbled and sailed wide. The rest went to pieces. Some froze in horror. Others trained their arrows on the traitor. Whalebelly’s woman took her eye off of Daigoro just for an instant, to see what was happening. Then Daigoro cut her down.
Bowstrings hummed and men cried out. Katsushima was as fast as an arrow himself. Somehow he was in the fray before Daigoro even managed to pull his wakizashi free of its first victim. In no time at all, only three were left standing: Daigoro, Katsushima, and the traitor in the black hachimaki, who stood with his palms out in a peacemaking gesture. He’d tossed his weapon aside, and he eyed Katsushima’s sword warily. “Easy now, gentlemen, I’ve come to help.”
Daigoro didn’t bother sheathing his wakizashi. “The last man who offered me his help tried to kill me.” And damn near succeeded too, he thought. He was gasping for air even after such a short skirmish. His body still hadn’t recovered from the bloodletting he’d suffered at the hands of the priest-assassin.
“Not the last one,” Katsushima said, “the last two.” He took a menacing step forward, driving the turncoat archer back. “Oda broke his word, Daigoro. We’ve gone weeks without detection, but no sooner did we cross his path than this lot crosses ours.”
“Heh heh,” said the traitor. “It’s a good thing he turned on you. This old bag’s been hunting you since Yoshiwara.” He nodded toward the dead woman still clutching her knife. “She came close too, before I found her. More talent than the rest of these put together.”
“And you led her straight to me,” said Daigoro. “You’re Lady Nene’s envoy, neh?”
“Nezumi, at your service.” He bowed as deeply as he could without skewering himself on Katsushima’s sword.
“And Katsushima’s right? Oda betrayed us to Shichio?”
“Not quite. You could say that was me. Oda delivered your message to my lady, she delivered it to Shichio—by way of the honorable Nezumi-sama, of course. Then he paid me extra to kill you instead of passing along her instructions.”
How nice, Daigoro thought. The peacock never stops pecking at me. “Then I’m glad you’re more loyal to her than to him. Now what do you want?”
“Only to do my duty. My lady wants to meet you and see . . . well, whatever it is you have to show her.” He peered into the stable, perhaps hoping to spy something in Daigoro’s pack. “She intends to make good on your agreement. In fact, all the arrangements are already in motion.”
“Oh?”
Nezumi smiled an ugly, brown-toothed smile. “Yes. Lady Nene already rides north. She will meet you at a teahouse on the southern slope of Mount Ashitaka, at the foot of Obyo Falls. Do you know it?”
“The waterfall, no. The mountain, yes.” Daigoro had seen it quite recently, in fact. It stood in view of Yasuda Jinichi’s castle, Fuji-no-tenka.
“I have a map for you, if you won’t cut my hand off