Shadow of The Fox (Shadow of the Fox #1) - Julie Kagawa Page 0,69
me dead, but in truth, the greatest danger to Yumeko was standing right beside her.
After a few hours, we left the forest and followed the river once more as it wound lazily through a valley, heading north toward the capital. By my estimations, we were perhaps a day or two from the border, which was going to be a problem. I’d lost my travel papers when my horse had fled the amanjaku, and there was no way to acquire more, legally or not. No one cared about the peasant class, so Yumeko would be fine, but an unauthorized samurai wandering through another clan’s territory was cause for alarm. Without proper documents, if we went through the checkpoint between territories, I would likely be detained for an indefinite amount of time while they decided what to do with me. Since that option was out of the question, I was going to have to find a way around, as sneaking through the checkpoint with Yumeko would be too risky.
A flutter of blue caught my eye, coming from a way station standing alone at the edge of the trail. The small wooden establishments were fairly common on the roads between towns, places where travelers could stop and purchase a hot meal or even a bed before continuing to their destination. Blue curtains were draped across the entrance and a miniature tanuki statue holding a sake jug perched in the window, welcoming customers.
Yumeko stopped in the middle of the road, inhaling deeply. “What is this place?” she wondered. “It smells wonderful.”
“Just a rest stop,” I told her. “You can buy a meal here, if you have the coin. We’re probably a few miles from a town...” I trailed off as she gave me a wide-eyed, hopeful look, and sighed. “I take it you’re hungry again.”
“I gave my rice to the kodama this morning,” she replied, looking plaintive. “All I’ve had to eat today is a plum.”
Digging into my money pouch, I silently handed her a few copper kaeru, and she smiled at me before hurrying to the rest stop window. She returned with two bowls of steaming soba noodles, and we took our food around the side of the building to eat. Low wooden benches lined the wall, spaced a few feet apart, but not all of them were empty.
A lone traveler slouched on a bench a few seats down, a sake bottle on the wooden surface and a cup in his hand. He was perhaps a few years older than me, wearing a tattered vest and trousers, and his dark, reddish brown hair was tied back while still managing to look unkempt. A single short blade was shoved through his obi, and a large onyx-wood bow lay on the bench beside him. He caught my gaze and smirked, lifting the sake cup in a mocking salute, before tipping the contents into his mouth.
I ignored him, having seen his kind many times before. A ronin, one of the masterless samurai that, through shame, dishonor, or the death of their lord, had been stripped of all wealth and titles and wandered the country in disgrace. A few found new lords to serve under, but many took whatever jobs they could, offering themselves as bodyguards or hired muscle, while others turned to banditry and murder. They were considered uncouth and uncivilized, having abandoned the code of Bushido and everything they once stood for, and the samurai despised them. Because they were a constant reminder of what could happen to any of them, at any time.
I perched on the edge of the seat as Yumeko sat down beside me, already engrossed in her food. I deliberately did not look in the ronin’s direction, though I could feel his gaze on us as he took another swig of sake, drinking straight from the bottle this time. In my travels, I had encountered two main types of troublemakers—the type who took offense to being noticed, and the type who took offense to being ignored. Of course, there were also the ones who were just looking for trouble, and they were impossible to avoid. I hoped this ronin wasn’t that type.
“Oi,” came a mocking voice from the other end of the benches, dashing my hopes. The ronin was watching Yumeko, a wide smirk on his face. “I saw that look. Don’t you know it’s rude to stare, little lady?”
Yumeko blinked and looked up from her bowl, a mouthful of soba dangling from her lips. She swallowed quickly. “I’m sorry, I