and vanished into the shadows of the forest. I sensed Hakaimono’s vague disgust that I hadn’t severed his spine and ignored it, scanning the darkness beyond the trees. Something was out there. The mysterious master who’d made certain to warn me that Genno the sorcerer had returned to Ningen-kai hadn’t done so out of any sense of altruism. Whoever he was, he was another player in this game I often found myself in. Lady Hanshou, the emperor, the clan daimyos—they were the generals, the major players, the ones with perfect knowledge, and we were the pieces on the board. I was a single pawn in a shogi match, being moved by unseen forces, going where I was directed without any knowledge as to why. That was how it had always been.
And now, it seemed another general had stepped up to the table. Genno, the Master of Demons, had returned, and would likely be seeking revenge. Lady Hanshou would want to know about this, as would the rest of the daimyos, and even the emperor himself, but my first duty was to my own clan. As soon as I secured the scroll, I would return and tell her what I had learned, or perhaps pass the information along to Jomei or another servant of the Shadow Clan if they popped up to check on me. Until then, I would continue my mission, and worry about demons when they came.
I turned and walked back to the hut, feeling eyes on me the entire way.
When I peered through the doorframe, the ronin was sitting alone in the center of the room, surrounded by debris and empty bottles. Yumeko lay on a blanket in the corner, clutching a straw pillow, an overturned sake cup lying forgotten beside her. The ronin saw where I was looking and sighed, shaking his head.
“Half a bottle and she was nodding off into her cup,” he said, a rueful grin stretching his mouth. “Pity, really. I was hoping she might be a handsy drunk. Guess I’ll be drinking alone tonight, unless you’d like to join me, Kage-san.”
“No.” Taking Kamigoroshi from my belt, I sat in the doorway and leaned against the frame, positioning my body so that it stretched across the entrance. If yokai were still out there and wanted to get into the hut, they would have to get past me, at least.
“Making me pour my own sake. How crass.” The ronin sniffed, poured himself a cup and then took a swig directly from the bottle. “Good thing dogs like me aren’t expected to have manners or any kind of social graces. So, Kage-san...” He picked up the sake cup with his other hand and eyed me over the rim with a shrewd black gaze. “What’s the story with you and Yumeko? You’re part of the Shadow Clan, and you’re not a ronin, so why are you following a peasant girl all the way to the capital? She’s not a servant, I can tell that much. No clan member would let a servant girl boss them around like that.” He tipped the contents of the cup into his mouth and swallowed, then grinned at me. “Or maybe, she’s really a princess dressed as a peasant to avoid detection, and you’re her bodyguard. That would explain a few things. How she can order you around, how you concede to everything she says, even helping a random bandit on the road.” He paused, and when I didn’t answer, the grin grew wider. “You know, if you don’t say anything, Kage-san, I’m only going to assume the worst.”
I leaned my head against the doorframe, letting his babble slide over me like water, vanishing like mist as it passed. “Your assumptions mean nothing to me,” I said, making him snort. “Presume what you like.”
“Oh? Then I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I have a little fun with the peasant girl.” The ronin put down the bottle and cast a hungry look in the corner, eyes gleaming. “She has a nice body under those rags, and I’d bet my last gold ryu that she’s unspoiled. You weren’t going to do anything with her, right, Kage-san? She is just a peasant, after all—”
He stopped, his gaze falling to my sword, where I had curled my fingers around the hilt. My body had gone very still, ready to explode into movement, and there was a new emotion boiling just below the surface, one I hadn’t felt before. Similar to Hakaimono’s violence and bloodlust, but different.