“Really? Boss Kuemon is dead? Truly?”
“Yes, truly.”
The girl got up, saying, “Excuse me. I have to tell my master this. He’ll be so happy!”
Kaze nodded and continued eating his okayu. A few minutes later the master of the inn returned with the serving girl. “Is it true?” the innkeeper said. “Boss Kuemon is dead?”
“Yes,” Kaze answered.
The innkeeper broke into a huge grin. “What great news! The food is no charge, samurai-sama! This is wonderful for this District. Lord Manase has finally gotten some men together and taken care of that Kuemon.”
“Yes, he did,” Kaze said.
“He must have hired troops from outside to do this. That ridiculous Magistrate couldn’t have taken on the likes of Boss Kuemon.”
“I suppose so,” Kaze said.
“Well! Excuse me, samurai-sama, but I have to hurry and tell the rest of the village the good news.” The innkeeper scurried out of the room, leaving the serving girl.
“Well, if the food is free, I’ll have another bowl,” Kaze said.
The smiling serving girl took his bowl and rushed off to refill it in the kitchen. When she returned, she reclaimed the spot where she could goggle at Kaze, making him feel uncomfortable. To make conversation, Kaze said, “Have you seen that demon again?”
“No, not since that night. That’s why I was so worried about you when you returned to Suzaka village.”
“Why was that?”
“Why, because the demon was on the road coming from Suzaka village.”
The question of which road the demon was seen on had never occurred to Kaze. “Was he going to Suzaka village or coming from it?”
“Coming from it. Why?”
“Curiosity is a fault of mine. Indulge me. And you say there was a man strapped to the horse?”
“Oh yes, we could all see that.”
“Was the man alive or dead?”
The girl considered that for a few seconds. “I don’t know, samurai-sama,” she finally said.
“Was he moving or screaming?”
“No, samurai-sama.”
“Then he would be very calm for a man being hauled off by a demon.”
The girl cocked her head and gave Kaze a puzzled look. Kaze didn’t bother to explain his sarcasm. Instead, he asked, “Did anyone see where the demon went?”
“He went toward the road to Rikuzen prefecture.”
“But that road is also joined by the road that leads back to the crossroads from Uzen prefecture,” Kaze said.
Frowning, the girl asked, “Why would anyone coming from Suzaka want to take that route if they were trying to go to the crossroads?”
“Why, indeed,” Kaze said.
“Hey, is anybody here?” a voice called out from the entrance of the teahouse. It was a female voice, but gruff and very loud.
The serving girl had a surprised look on her face because of the appearance of new guests. She quickly got up and left the room to greet them. The girl spoke softly, but Kaze could hear the loud voice of the woman carrying on a one-sided conversation.
“It’s about time you came,” she said.
A silence. Undoubtedly the serving girl was making profuse apologies.
“So don’t just sit there, bowing at me,” said the loud woman. “Help me off with my sandals and take me where I can get some tea.”
Another few seconds of silence.
“How much is a room for the night?”
Silence.
“How much? That’s outrageous!”
More silence.
“Well, yes, just get me the owner of the inn. I want to talk to him about his prices. No, not now. First take us into a room and get us some tea.”
In a few seconds the serving girl appeared back in the common room where Kaze was sitting. She seemed flustered and not at all sure what to do about her loud and assertive guests. Kaze was surprised to see that in fact there were three guests. In the lead was a woman old enough to be a grandmother, with hair shot with silver and pulled back in a bun. Across her forehead she had a white headband, and painted on the headband was the kanji character for “revenge.” She wore hakama pants and a traveling coat just like a man. Stuck into her sash were a man’s swords, and she strode into the room with all the power and arrogance of any real samurai.
Immediately behind her was a very old man. Where the woman was as sturdy as a sake barrel, the man seemed as ephemeral as a reed screen. His face was gaunt and cadaverous and his shoulders, elbows, and hipbones poked at his kimono. Kaze felt that he looked very much like a walking skeleton instead of a real man.
Immediately behind the old man was a young boy of perhaps fifteen or sixteen. On the back of the boy was a large wicker pack stuffed with cloth-wrapped bundles, and hanging on the outside of the pack was an assortment of pans.
The odd trio entered the room and occupied one of the corners of the common room. In politeness, Kaze shifted his position so that he was not looking directly at them. Under normal circumstances, Kaze’s actions would erect an invisible wall between him and the other party, and he and the other party could each go about their business as if they were the only ones in the common room. This old woman, however, did not allow the invisible walls erected by polite Japanese society to deter her.
After ordering the old man and the young boy to sit in the corner, the old woman marched across the common room and actually tapped Kaze on the shoulder. Touching a stranger was extraordinarily rude, and Kaze considered how he should react. Should he treat her with the deference due to her because of her age? Or should he simply turn his back to her completely, snubbing her rude overture? Since he had been taught to indulge both children and old people, Kaze’s distaste for being touched was overcome by his need to be polite to an elder.
“Yes, Obaasan, Grandmother,” Kaze said politely.
“Are you the only other person in the inn?” the old woman asked.
Kaze shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Well, have you seen a merchant?” the woman persisted.
“No, not at this inn.”
“If you see a merchant, you tell me,” the woman said.
“Any merchant?”
“No, of course not. The merchant we’re looking for travels the Tokaido road, but you never know where such vermin may be found. We’re on our way to the Tokaido now to see if we can find him. We are on an official vendetta. We have registered our grievance with the new Tokugawa government, and now we are looking for a certain merchant so that we can bring retribution and revenge upon his head.”
“Those are two very weighty attributes for you to bring upon anyone’s head, grandmother.”
“I’m not here to do it alone,” she declared proudly. “I brought with me my servant,” she used her chin to point toward the gaunt old scarecrow, “and one of my grandchildren,” she again used her chin to point, but this time at the young boy.
“Then surely that merchant must have a lot to fear and will not escape heaven’s retribution.”
The woman grimly nodded at Kaze’s assessment of the ragtag trio arrayed against the unknown merchant. An official vendetta was no laughing matter. That meant the authorities had given the motley trio the power to hunt down and kill someone who had aggrieved their family. Before Kaze could get the details of the vendetta, the serving girl brought the owner of the inn into the common room, and the old woman focused her attention on the hapless inn owner.
The owner could barely get a greeting out of his mouth before the woman was assailing him on the quality of the accommodations and how he could have the effrontery to even charge one sen when weary travelers such as herself and her party were looking for accommodations more in keeping with what they were used to.
The flustered innkeeper bowed constantly, trying futilely to get a word in edgewise in the midst of the old woman’s tirade. In desperation he looked at Kaze as if asking the samurai to come in as reinforcements against the old woman’s assault. Kaze wryly shook his head, greatly amused at the scene playing out before him, but much too smart to get involved with this formidable woman.