A figure of renown and prominence like the Right Eye of the Dragon could not vanish from view without some suspicion and worry following. It would not be out of line fear such an occurrence. And of course some doubts could be created. It would be most bothersome to constantly think of excuses and covers while he was away, not to mention that any abnormally, any mistake, any inconsistency in the accounts could trigger suspicion in their target and jeopardize the whole plan.
Katakura Kojuro left Oshu to meet Date in Kyushu. A crafted story to displace any suspicion or questions. Simple, plausible and supported by sightings, reports and rumours. He had indeed left Oshu the next morning with a couple of guards and equipped for the long journey.
Hikawa Sojiro had been assured that he had their attention and Saki would be sending help in the form of a ronin whose master had died without an heir and whose retainers had scattered, joining whichever faction suited their beliefs at the time. Ryoma had fought for the One-Eyed Dragon for a long time and while he had not joined them he was still loyal and trustworthy. They needed to see how much of a threat those bandits truly were before deciding what forces to send. It seemed fairly reasonable.
"I question the men's training now." Kojuro stated, disgruntled as he was left alone with Saki, straightening from his respectful bow, resisting the impulse of slicking his hair back. She chuckled into her sleeve, examining him, having an easier time to keep to her role.
Appearances were not as defining as Kojuro had though.
Kiko had joined him in a hidden yashiki, barely three hours away from the city, instructing him in being Ryoma. Allowing his look to grow unkempt was the first part of the change, a beard masking the distinct scar and overall shape of his jaw line and tousled hair obscuring his forehead and shadowing his eyes, changing the first impression of his face. Keeping his hands away from the tresses was a struggle at first, being used to keeping it away from his eyes. Plainer, looser clothes and a slight posture change further hid who he was. The daisho distinctive characteristics were obscured. It was a precaution but he felt they would not check the weapons too closely. A hoarser voice, created by smoke completed the disguise along with an effort to be blunter, harsher in diction. There was little that could be done about being left handed but that was not as rare a trait as it sounded.
He had returned on a different horse, suitably equipped and loaded for someone of his assumed position, and showed Saki's summons as if he truly was who he was stating to be. And the men that had fought alongside him, that had been trained by him, women that saw him daily, did not notice a thing.
Ryoma was allowed through the gates and guided to the formal meeting room without doubts, without questioning, without those that should protect Saki and the child ever noticing him. Almost. The shinobi looked a bit too amused by the whole scene playing in front of them. Of course knowing Saki was able of defending herself and the others proficiently could have influenced the man's attitude and alertness as well. Any would-be threat that had forgotten that there were two dragons in that nest would be not-so-gently reminded.
"Why not feel proud of your skill and effort Ryoma?" Saki eased the discontent, behaving as if he truly was a ronin with loose, almost mercenary, links to Oshu. Kojuro lowered his head in a small nod. If he had been able to fool those that were familiar with him deceiving those who knew him only through faint memories and hear-tell would be simpler. It was somehow encouraging. "Thank you for coming on such a short notice." She continued the masquerade easily, testing the disguise and his reactions as she gave him the updated details.
The journey took three days by horse. It was uneventful. Gathering hearsay at the teahouses gave Kojuro little. Rumours and opinions. Nothing solid. Nothing new. Entering the province showed him more. Common people looked haggard but were unafraid of a stranger on the road whether their paths were simply crossing or they were working on the fields flanking the path. The richer on the other hand seemed to grow wary, prodding armed guards into alertness if they happened to cross.
The misplaced victims.
Bandits would want wealth, true, but a band usually preyed on the weak instead, on the vulnerable. Farmers, artisans, traveling merchants… And food was always profitable and much sought after. If it could not be sold it would still keep the group fed. But these attacked solely and directly were those who had wealth, titles and the land lord's trust. Bandits would only be so brazen if they had strength. Or a goal.
Suspicion. Distrust. The guards were on edge. They were also very young-looking, as if newly recruited. And that could mean fast tempers and unchecked pride.
Kojuro dismounted and approached slowly and deliberately, guiding the beast by the reins, mindful of his posture. A nod was enough greeting before showing the letter.
"I'm Ryoma. Date Saki sent me to deal with your bandits." Short, curt, to the point.
They should already have received the message so his arrival was not a surprise.
But the following string of events confirmed the Hikawa household was very much on alert.
One guard left with the papers, glaring at the ronin, the gates unlocking from within, opening just enough to let him squeeze though, closing and locking down once more.
The other guard stayed and stared, still very much full of distrust. Every time the horse twitched or its hooves struck the ground as it shuffled the grip on his weapons tightened. Kojuro simply stood and patted the animal from time to time, glancing around, patient. The area around the household walls was cleaned, giving a clear view and an easy path for patrollers.
An hour passed. Four groups of two guards made their rounds.
Someone of slightly higher rank came, the gates opening a bit more, the guard accompanying him. The captain carried the letters, asking questions, verifying the answers and the man. Yet another that looked too young to hold the rank he was claiming.
Kojuro was allowed in to take care of his horse as he waited for an audience.
After crossing the now opened gate four guards on the inside to back up the two on the outside worked with the locks, securing at least three sets and nine bolts.
Another guard joined them partway, letting the captain go fulfil whatever obligation he had to continue the process of letting the new arrival greet the lord he had been sent to serve. The soldier was watching the stranger in the stables while Kojuro worked on taking off saddles and bags, watering, feeding and brushing the horse. At least it was a sign that he was not being turned away to wait for tomorrow in the village down the path.
Yet another hour passed before two guards came to fetch him, relieving the other man from duty. Having nothing to do Kojuro had sat down without asking a thing. The man also had not spoken a word. But what he could see outside were the normal activities of a household even if the soldier presence was a bit too strong for peaceful times.
And more time went by as they waited on the meeting room, kneeling formally, facing the wooden platform where the lord would appear. Only twitching kept his legs from growing numb. His discomfort would also be true for the guards that waited behind him, keeping an eye on the daisho resting on the tatami at his side.
Night was falling.
The room was dark and the guards were still there.
Testing his endurance and patience seemed a reasonable measure but it showed a level of alertness that was concerning.
It placed the suspicion in his mind that the bandits' goals were very much political and personal. Also made him somewhat wary for his own deceit. If found there was little they could do against him but reputations could be damaged.
A man named Maki Benkei entered when the lights were finally lit by a couple of silent servants hurrying to fulfil their duty. He wore richer clothes, slightly older than the others he had seen so far and introduced himself as a trusted advisor, carrying the letter and seals. Another test. A stare-down and the same questions, repeated over and over again.
While bothersome it was helping cement who Kojuro had to be. Voice and tone came easily.
No doubt seemed to take hold.
Ryoma was left with the assurance that he was now able to meet Hikawa Sojiro.
Kojuro waited, ignoring the hunger that was starting to peek through his control. It was part of the mission. All that served a purpose. Attempting to discourage impostors for one, making sure the lowly newcomer knew his place as well.