Kaze drew his sword. He was sure he would have heard that large a group of men getting into position, so they had been waiting for him. He had been set on a path designed to have him run into them. What he didn’t know was who had betrayed him: the Magistrate, Lord Manase, or someone else.
In an instant he was out of the pine forest and running into the bamboo forest. The stalks of bamboo were as big around as a man’s arm, and the floor of the forest was littered with the nubs of bamboo shoots and slippery leaves. Kaze dodged through the stalks, darting right, then left, feeling the shiny bamboo stalks graze his shoulders as he made his way through the wild growth. In the thick growth he could never see more than a few feet before him, so he didn’t bother checking over his shoulder for his pursuers. He didn’t need to, because he heard the shouts of his attackers growing progressively fainter behind him. He was outdistancing them.
Suddenly he burst out the bamboo forest and saw the earth drop away before him. He tried to come to a rapid halt, but the slippery bamboo leaves clogging the ground made his feet fly out from under him and he skidded over the edge of a precipice. He dropped his sword before it could go flying over the edge and clawed at the lip of the crevasse. He risked a quick look down and saw that he was hanging from the edge of a fissure formed by some past earthquake. Below him the bottom of the fissure was a great distance, and the rocky floor looked uninviting and dangerous.
Willing his fingers to dig into the hard earth at the edge of the crevasse, he hung there for a few long moments, uncertain if his grip on the edge would save him or if the earth would give way, sending him to the bottom. It held.
Pulling himself back onto the bank, Kaze heard the shouts of the approaching men. The ambush had been carefully planned. Kaze was now trapped on the edge of a tear in the earth that was too wide to jump, with his attackers about to burst upon him in a few seconds. Kaze picked up his sword and made a quick decision.
He positioned himself next to a bamboo stalk growing at the edge of the fissure and drew his sword back with both hands. In his mind, he pictured the sword on the other side of the bamboo stalk, cleanly cutting it. He brought the sword down with authority and made his mental image of the completion of the stroke a reality. The stalk was now cleanly cleaved, and it fell forward, spanning the fissure with a narrow bridge, no wider than a man’s arm.
The stalk was glossy, smooth, and slippery and looked too thin to cross on. Kaze was reminded of an acrobat he had once seen, who walked across a stretched rope using a bamboo and paper umbrella for balance. Kaze had superb balance, but he wasn’t sure he could negotiate this thin and tenuous bridge. The voices of the men chasing him were near, and it seemed he had no option.
Taking a deep breath and holding his sword out for balance, Kaze started running on the stalk to cross the ravine. The flexible bamboo shaft bowed dangerously when he got to the middle, causing Kaze to momentarily lose his balance, teetering on the edge as the rocky floor of the fissure waited for him. He fought to control both his mind and body, centering himself literally and figuratively, pulling himself back upright on the fragile bridge. Wishing he were barefoot instead of in sandals so his feet could get a better purchase, Kaze made his way up the sloping bow of the bamboo and onto the other side. With a quick, one-handed swipe of the sword, Kaze cut the thin top of the bamboo, causing the stalk to fall into the fissure, eliminating the possibility that anyone, no matter how foolish or skilled, would follow him across. In an instant, he stood in the bamboo growing on the other side of the chasm.
Kaze’s pursuers came to the edge of the fissure, but since they knew of its existence, they had slowed their pursuit and didn’t fall over its edge. They scanned the bottom of the chasm to see if they could find Kaze’s body, but noticed nothing. Puzzled, they concluded that Kaze must have somehow eluded them in the bamboo forest. They turned around and formed a search party of their own to see if they could locate him.
As they did this, Kaze was already walking near the bank of the fissure, looking for a place where he could climb down into the chasm and climb up the other side. He was more interested in seeing the arrow that precipitated the ambush than in completely eluding the men.
After a great deal of searching, he found a place where he could climb down one side of the fissure and back up the other. When he finally made his way back to the location of the ambush, the sun was starting to move toward the horizon. Kaze was careful in his movements, taking time to assure himself that he wouldn’t stumble into another trap. When he finally came to the tree where he had stopped for water, he waited in hiding for several minutes to make sure the way was clear. He was glad he did.
In the forest he could hear the sound of two men arguing, the voices getting more heated as they approached the ambush site.
“… but he got away!”
“That wasn’t our arrangement.”
“I won’t pay for nothing!”
“Now, now. I did what I agreed to. I must be paid!”
“I’ll pay you nothing.”
“We had an agreement, an agreement!”
“But why should I-”
“If you want me to do more-”
“How about half?”
“No, all!”
“Half!”
“Two thirds?”
“All right.”
“Done, done!”
Nagato emerged from the forest and stopped. A muscular man with a potbelly and shoulders covered with tattoos appeared next to him, pulling out a pouch that was tucked into the side of his loincloth. Nagato still carried his bow and the half-naked man was carrying a spear. He stuck the spear into the earth and opened the pouch. The clink of coins could easily be heard as the tattooed man counted out coins into Nagato’s eager hands.
Nagato’s betrayal neither surprised nor offended Kaze. In these times no person could be trusted, and Nagato had the kind of character that made him even less trustworthy than most. What offended Kaze was the sight of a samurai acting like a greedy merchant, snuffling around a peasant with money like a pig in heat.
When the money was paid, the tattooed man said, “I have to find my men. They’ll search all night for that damn samurai if I don’t tell them to stop. There’ll be other days, if that dog’s head doesn’t have the sense to leave here.” He continued walking into the forest toward the bamboo grove.
The Magistrate stopped and slowly counted the money paid him. Then he took a cloth from his sleeve, put the coins into it, and wrapped them carefully before tucking them into the sash that held his swords. He walked over to the tree where Kaze had been sitting just a few hours before and tugged at the arrow embedded in it. The arrow was sunk deep into the bark. The Magistrate was not careful, and Kaze could hear the sharp crack as the shaft snapped in two.
“Damn!” the Magistrate said. He threw down the broken arrow and stomped off into the woods, leaving Kaze alone once again.
Kaze showed patience and waited until he wouldn’t have more visitors. Then he approached the tree. He saw the water bottle he abandoned when he tumbled backward and retrieved it. He had taken it from Jiro’s hut, and Jiro would want it back. Then he picked up the broken arrow shaft that the magistrate had abandoned and studied it thoughtfully.
CHAPTER 13