CHAPTER TWO
The voyage to Nagasaki was uneventful. Kenshin didn't like sea travel much. The endless tossing of the ship underfoot was unnerving. Thankfully, he stepped out onto the dock and gazed at the quayside from under the circular straw hat that shielded his eyes and his unusual red hair from the sun.
Nagasaki was a bustling seaport. Crowds of workers unloading cargo, passengers embarking and disembarking, the cry of gulls, creak of rope and ruffling of sails created a cacophony unlike any other. With the sun warm on his back and the scent of fish, sea, and sweaty humanity in his nostrils, Kenshin set off to the Ishin Shishi safehouse.
o-o-o
"We found him."
Kamui, leader of the Ishin Shishi cell in Nagasaki, wasted no time getting to the point once Kenshin arrived at the nondescript house set back from the street near a busy inn. Kamui was well suited to the house. Average height, average build, with a plain, unremarkable face, he was instantly forgettable.
"Where?" Kenshin could be just as brief and to the point. He found it suited him better than long conversations.
"A hot springs town inland. It's several days travel."
Kamui passed Kenshin a rolled bit of paper.
"Here's the map."
Unrolling it, Kenshin saw that Kamui was right. The onsen was in the mountains far inland from Nagasaki.
"I'll need a horse," he stated, glancing up from the map.
"Done."
Rolling the map up again, Kenshin continued. "And one for Tomahizo for the return trip."
"So it's not an assassination? Three horses then."
It was the note of bitter amusement in Kamui's voice more than the wrong number that had Kenshin look at him sharply.
The man's mouth twisted in distaste.
"Tomahizo bought a geisha out of her house contract before leaving Kyoto. She's still with him. He hired men to carry her up the mountain in a kago. It's how we found him. The carriers talked. Evidently he dotes on her."
Kenshin's hands stilled on the paper.
"I see."
The woman complicated things. If Tomahizo valued her to the extent that he'd hire men to carry her up the mountains in a traveling basket, then he'd likely not agree to go back without her. The fact that she was a geisha, used to being pampered and admired by men, would make her a liability if there were trouble. For an instant Kenshin thought of Tomoe, who'd traveled on foot with him to Otsu without a hint of complaint. His heart clenched up with the familiar ache of loss, and he willed the memory away. Keeping his face expressionless, he tucked the map into his sleeve.
"Three horses would be much appreciated, thank you," he said politely.
The bitterness dropped from Kamui's face. He stood for a moment indecisively, as if he wanted to say more. Kenshin waited patiently, but in the end Kamui simply shrugged and said, "I'll go see about the horses," and left.
The horses Kamui arranged were of good stock, strong, and suitable for a samurai. Kenshin took turns riding each and leading the other two behind him on the dirt roads leading to the interior of Kyushu Island. The rolling hills of the coast gave way to rocky mountains covered by tangy smelling pines and dense undergrowth which crowded the edges of the thoroughfare.
The horses were well trained. None of them so much as flinched when a heavy oxcart filled with straw bags of charcoal lumbered by, the ox bellowing its discontent when the driver took a switch to it, to make it go faster. Most of the other travelers were on foot, their load carried on their backs on wooden cradles, the better to stack the supplies. Kenshin had seen men carrying nearly as much as a pack animal by using the cradles.
At night Kenshin hobbled the horses and slept with his back against a tree, his sword resting on his shoulder. Each morning he woke before dawn, finishing his kata as the horses dozed, eager to be on his way again with the sunrise. Eventually he came to the town where Tomahizo was hiding.
It was built on the edge of a lake. The smell of sulfer and mud lingered through the town's main street, well past the centralized spring enclosure where invalids lay on broad boards stretched out over the pungent, bubbling mud, inhaling the fumes as they basked in the heat emanating from the hot spring.
The sound of laughter and splashing came from the lake, proof that bathers were taking advantage of the afternoon sun's fading warmth. Towels hanging from inn balconies on either side of the street gave further evidence of the popularity of the lake. Kenshin shrugged and continued on to the inn where the carriers left Tomahizo and his geisha. If things went well, he wouldn't have time for bathing in the lake. He'd collect Tomahizo and the woman and be on his way, hopefully before the Bakufu's spies learned of Tomahizo's onsen vacation.
The main street rose with the hill on which half the town was built. Tomahizo's inn was located on a side street near the hill's apex. It was getting late, a bad time to start a journey back to Nagasaki, so Kenshin searched for a stable for the horses. He'd passed by one already near the beginning of town, but the unmistakable smell of manure and hay led him to a tiny pasture on the other side of the hill where a farmer agreed to keep the horses for him.
It was a short walk back to the inn, and Kenshin made the most of it, relishing the sound of his sandals slapping against the soles of his feet as he raised small puffs of dust with each step. It hadn't rained for several days, but judging by the clouds gathering across the lake, a storm was coming. For now the sun shone down on the lake, raising sparkles on the water. Kenshin gazed at it until the triangular wood roofs of the inns obscured it from view as he turned down the side street to the inn.
Thanks to a talkative innkeeper, Kenshin knew which room Tomahizo and the geisha occupied. He secured a room down the hall from theirs, waited until the maidservant cleared away their trays of food, then entered Tomahizo's room, pulling back the shoji screen and stepping across the threshold.
Tomahizo didn't notice he wasn't the maidservant at first. He was sitting on the tatami mats, holding a cup which the woman at his side had just filled with sake from the jar in her hand. She was younger than Kenshin expected, with a delicate heart shaped face, large brown eyes, and a tiny frame that made her appear child-like. She was dressed in a bright blue kimono with an elaborate yellow obi decorated with an ornament in the shape of a crane surrounded by wisteria.
Tomahizo wore a brown silk kimono which had the unfortunate effect of making him resemble a mound of dirt. His saggy jowels shook with laughter as he reacted to something the girl said. Then he looked up, saw Kenshin and froze.
Kenshin shut the shoji screen with a snap as Tomahizo gaped.
"Katsura wants you back in Kyoto."
"Who? What? You…" Tomahizo sputtered, the sake in his cup sloshing out as he started to get to his feet.
Kenshin held a hand up, stopping him.
The geisha gave a belated shriek and set the jar down, scooting back toward the corner of the room.
"I've come to take you back," Kenshin repeated.
The merchant set his lips together and glared. "Forget it, the naval minister is too suspicious. He knows I took the plans. They're on to me. Do you know what they do to traitors? I packed a bag and left Kyoto for good, and I'm not going back. Chokichi and I are going to buy an inn and live out our lives here."
"You packed?" Kenshin repeated softly.
"Of course," Tomohizo put his cup on the mat impatiently. "Why should I buy more kimono when I had perfectly good ones at home?" He was regaining his equilibrium, anger replacing his initial surprise.
Tomahizo went home, knowing that the Bakufu were on to him, packed a bag, and left his wife and child behind to face the rage of the Bakufu agents. Yet he stopped to pick up a geisha.
The merchant held out a hand and the girl came to him. "Chokichi knew of this town, it's perfect for the two of us."
The geisha stared at Kenshin from mysterious almond eyes. It made him uncomfortable. He'd been around geisha before. Katsura often met informants in the entertainment district, where geisha fluttered around the room like brightly colored butterflies. Kenshin was always on duty at those times, and a simple hard stare, when necessary, kept the women away. The nature of his previous job and his reputation as Battousai discouraged his comrades in arms from inviting him to accompany them to Gion for socializing. Not that he would have gone even if they'd asked. He wouldn't betray Tomoe's memory that way.
"Perfect or not, if I could find it, so can the Bakufu."
Tomahizo looked shaken for a moment, then he recovered. "That won't happen."
Kenshin had to wonder what the merchant knew that gave him so much confidence. Then he realized; there was nothing. The merchant was one of those people who thought things would turn out right because they wanted them to.
The sound of horses' hooves in the street below had Kenshin across the room and at the window in a second. The view of the lake was breathtaking, but that's not what caught his attention. Kenshin's eyes were on ground level where a troop of Bakufu soldiers was galloping up the street. Turning from the window, he stared flatly at Tomahizo.
"It just did," he said.
To Be Continued…