Chapter Three: Through the thick and thin

Early the next morning, Jin awoke to the sound of his innkeeper knocking at his room's screen door. "You wanted to meet the next caravan, sir? Well, they've arrived and are arranging their packs now before they're on their way. The herb-seller warned them about Momo, sir, but maybe they'd feel better to know you are here to protect them…"

"W-what?" stammered Jin. "Did you…"

"Oh no, sir, I figured it would be up to you as samurai to explain your business to them directly…I would never presume…"

Jin raced to dress and smoothly took the stairs down three at a time to reach the street. He scanned the milling villagers; seeing no carts immediately, he headed towards the end of town near the forest. He strode quickly down the village street past the busy sellers' stalls: candles, fish, jars of ink. Jin slowed when he saw a small crowd of people clustered in front of a vegetable stall. As he approached, the crowd erupted into laughter, all faces nodding and grinning and a few elbows nudged their neighbors' sides. As the laughter ebbed, Jin could hear a woman's clear voice floating out from under the stall's fabric roof. Jin paused at the back of the crowd when he heard the woman's laughter – he knew it was the laughter he had heard in the camp the night before. Now, though, combined with the voice…Jin lifted his head to raise his eyes to peer at the object of everyone's attention.

The woman immediately met Jin's eyes in return. Her sparkling unblinking brown eyes widened slightly, then turned up in what he interpreted as amusement as the lower part of her face was in shadow. Jin felt exposed, staring at those eyes; he was bathed in sudden warmth as though the sun had moved closer to the earth. She held his gaze for two breaths, then returned her eyes down to the crowd around her and continued her funny story. Though he was barely listening, Jin was seized by a vague feeling of recognition that could have come from a tale or song or memory; the déjà vu was stifling and he frowned. The sound of grinding cart wheels awoke him from his dazed state and he turned just in time to see a pair of carts at the end of the village street start down the path through the forest.

Disgusted at himself for his lapse of attention, Jin hurried to follow the carts into the forest. They were manned by two middle-aged men, a woman, and two tiny children. The little caravan moved very slowly; Jin supposed their carts were very full, and they moved slowly for the sake of the men's strength as much as for the sleepy children. He was surprised when the carts stopped on the road just past the ill-placed tree. The men sighed and stretched, and squatted on the road, conversing quietly. Jin squatted too, in sight of both the carts and the shack not far away, watching…but the group just sat there.

And several hours later, they were still…just…sitting there in the middle of the road. Jin couldn't conceive of a reason for them to sit still, as though waiting for robbers or bad weather to descend up on their sad little group. Jin decided to make his way over to the forest shack when out of it walked a large wobbly woman. Momo? he wondered as he watched the huge woman waddle from the shack to the forest road. Without a glance at the travelers camped on the path beyond, she headed towards the village. Confused but resolute, Jin followed the corpulent figure back into town.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Jin had supposed from the rumors that the spies had sent north that Momo would be a fearsome object of scorn or derision, a reclusive and repulsive figure unwelcomed in the village and thus outcast from normal society to live alone in the forest. To his surprise, once the woman reached the village street (despite her size and awkwardness she moved fairly well, implying that her bulk hid some strength), she was accosted by a line of eager food sellers peddling their goods. Jin stealthily skirted the row of stalls from behind so he could approach the lively scene from the other direction. He strode nonchalantly past the stalls, eyeing both the goods for sale and the slowly approaching throng surrounding Momo's advance down the street. He noted as he passed a sign on this morning's vegetable seller's stand: Sold out! Thank you for your business.

Momo purchased many items: paper-wrapped dried seaweed, dried and fresh fish, dumplings tied into a square of cloth. She carried no pack, but somehow managed to arrange the bundles on her hips and up sleeves and tucked around her obi and still kept hands free for more purchases. In the meantime, the village children made a game of running up to Momo's back, tugging at her hem, and scuttling away before she could turn to swat at them. To Jin, the game was not mean-spirited, but rather had the air of familiar, good-natured, mutual teasing.

By afternoon's end, Momo had accumulated a prodigious pile of goods. Regrettably, Jin had been forced to make a few purchases of his own to explain his presence in the market; his unobtrusive air unfortunately failed to shield him from a few energetic and persistent sellers. Consequently, Jin (as proxy for Magistrate Hidetoshi and the Shogun himself, of course) now owned two squash, a square of silk of indeterminate purpose (what exactly was an "anker sheef"?), and a delicately painted fan, for his lady friend. Jin snorted softly. Lady friend, indeed.

Neither ninja nor samurai, Jin's half-life – sneaking around, feeding off of little bits of information and observation until he could strike correctly at the behest of his master – was profoundly solitary, leaving little space or time for any sort of private life. At the start of his employment by the magistrate, he had been quietly flattered by the freedom and responsibility given him; the magistrate relied on Jin's restraint and talent to sniff out his prey and execute whatever order had been placed, without calling attention to himself in the process. Jin attended his duties as honorably as he could remember honor to mean, and took great pride in his unwavering skill. Any disquiet he harbored over the nature of his work only seemed to manifest in dreams of blood and darkness under the moonlight. It was fortunate Jin no longer believed in dreams.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Thank you, sir, it was my pleasure to serve you today." The dumpling-seller hesitantly grinned as Jin deposited his used skewers on the mat before him.

Despite the shadows cast by the vermilion sunset behind him, out of the corner of his eye Jin could see Momo's figure heading towards the forest road. Grunting at the man before him, he made to follow her. She seemed to be in no great hurry so Jin was forced to hide behind trees as they progressed into the forest. This was the part of his work that most irritated Jin: he had great trouble slowing his stride for any person so he was forced to wait and conceal himself repeatedly while tracking slow-moving targets. It affronted his efficient nature to play hide-and-seek. He would rather just remove the woman's head and be done with it, but years of such work had taught him to exchange efficiency for patience.

Momo reached the waiting caravan, where she met the waiting occupants and exchanged solemn careful bows. The men helped Momo mount the back of one of the carts, where she sat swinging her feet playfully, singing a song (very badly, Jin thought, she is no artist) to the children who were taking turns pushing the back of the cart as the group made its way deeper into the forest. True darkness never descended as once again the full moon had risen before the sun had completely set, making it easy to travel the forest by night.

At the hidden track that Jin now knew led to the tiny dock at the forest's ocean edge, Momo's group met more people. After a quick count, Jin realized this was the group he had happened upon the night before while tracking the green-clad singer to the riverside glade. Quiet assertions and discussion was shrilly interrupted by a child's cry of "Momo-chan!" which was hastily muffled by tones of warning.

Jin had his target. This rather ridiculous figure was indeed Momo, traitor to the Shogun, infamous Christian smuggler, mastermind of an elaborate scheme that spread like a web over most of the land. Though he'd certainly had few people that seemed less likely a focus of an exhaustive government's search and object for an order of execution, Jin had only to catch her in the act of helping this group on their way and his duty would be clear.