Xref: netcom.com alt.pub.dragons-inn:7335 Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn Path: netcom.com!csus.edu!csulb.edu!library.ucla.edu!agate!blanket.mitre.org!eff!news.kei.com!ub!galileo.cc.rochester.edu!newstand.syr.edu!mothra.syr.edu!bcfrench From: bcfrench@mothra.syr.edu (Barb French) Subject: REPOST [SoV] Chapter 3 - Family Message-ID: <1994Jun6.111637.20463@newstand.syr.edu> Sender: netnews@newstand.syr.edu (Network News Administrator) Nntp-Posting-Host: mothra.syr.edu Organization: Syracuse University, Syracuse, NY Date: Mon, 6 Jun 1994 11:16:37 GMT Lines: 266 My newsreader and mail system have been acting strangely, so please forgive me if you have already received this at your site. I've gotten reports it has not posted to several sites -- hence the repost. ...Barb ============================================================ [SoV] Chapter 3 - Family Admin [The cast of characters for the [SoV] thread: Character Created/Managed by --------------------------------------------------------- Matte Kudasai Matt Hebert Masuko Hattori Barbara French Tomonobu Fujiwara Bret Rudnick Synopsis: Several adventurers find their fates woven in a common thread -- a quest for revenge. Masuko has an unwelcome meeting and an unwelcome assignment. Admin [As always, comments/questions welcome.] ============================================================ Masuko rang the small bell tied to the post of the light wicker carriage, signalling the driver to stop. Tomonobu looked across the street to the neat but imposing building where Masuko had glanced with some anxiety in her eyes. "This is where you need to go?" he asked quietly. She nodded, pushing aside the lap-robe which kept the dust off her pale kimono. Before she got out of the carriage, she turned her dark eyes to Tomonobu, face shadowed against the street-lamps. Her fingers reached to touch his shoulder, then two fingers touched his lips briefly. He found himself startled by the contact, which seemed unnervingly intimate. But she stabbed one finger downward, and he caught her meaning. "I see. You want me to stay here and be quiet." She nodded, and climbed out of the carriage. "I will respect your wishes in this," he said as she made certain her obi had not been crushed or become disarrayed, "but if you are not out in a reasonable time, I will come in to get you." Her smile before she left him was hard to read, and he found himself puzzled as she walked away. Was it sadness he read there, a haunted quality? Or was he reading more into it than he should? He found himself feeling strange as he sat and watched her disappear around the side of the building. * * * * * "Masuko, my flower. Has it truly been a year since I've laid eyes on your fair countenance?" Masuko did not return the smile her uncle had offered. Despite the late hour, he was still dressed in an figured-satin kosode with matching hakama, the maple-leaf design created with embroidery and kanako shibori dyeing, which juxtaposed cherry blossoms over the leaves. Spring and fall, she thought bitterly. Winter fit her uncle better -- the season of death. The sunken room in the middle of her uncle's house was simple, with black lacquered tables and plain cushions set around them. A servant had set out tea and small bean-curd cakes on one of the tables. "Kikuchi, bring the thought-jewel for the daughter of my sister," Shurin Iga said to a servant. "Masuko, working in a pleasure-house suits you. I've never seen you look more radiant." A small sound rumbled deep in her throat, as she took a cup of the tea he offered and sat on a cushion. She sipped a little tea and waited while the servant fetched the only thing in the world which allowed Masuko any measure of normal communication. Shurin Iga had told her he would have gladly given her the thought-jewel, were it not so rare and so fantastically expensive. It was normally used to extract information from the minds of unwilling prisoners, but it also allowed Masuko to project her thoughts into the gem and have it heard as real speech. She liked to think the soft, melodic voice which came from the red-glowing jewel would have been her own voice. Although Masuko could make some sounds, all those not formed with the tongue, she rarely did so, as her clumsy attempt at speech embarrassed her profoundly. Nor, she thought, do I believe for a half-second that old bastard would give it to me, even if somehow I could pay for it. Shurin's old servant Kikuchi set the small, unfaceted gem in its small stand in front of Masuko. It was about the size and shape of a shelled almond. "You've let your eyebrows grow in," Shurin noted, with some disapproval in his voice. Masuko laid her fingertip on the jewel. She had learned from previous experience to touch it only when she wished to speak; she had learned the hard way about stray thoughts. A pleasant feminine voice emanated from the gem, though Masuko's lips remained immobile, and the jewel's red light pulsed with the rise, fall and inflection of the thought-voice. "It's not the fashion here, Uncle. It disturbs people that I had no brows. It's the same reason I don't blacken my teeth. People think it ugly here." "Such a judge of beauty these barbarians are," Shurin muttered, sipping his own tea. "Chairs and tables that still look like logs. Gardens so thick and overgrown you wonder what's hidden there. And the clothes . . . don't even get me started about their clothes. To what do I owe the delight of your visit, my precious?" "The butterfly." Masuko's brows descended as a small frown curved her rose-colored lips. "Why him, Uncle? Why was he given the butterfly?" "Who are you talking about?" Shurin asked innocently. Masuko's hand nearly clamped over the stand, palm touching the jewel. "Anyone could have been given the butterfly. Why did it have to be Tomonobu Fujiwara?" "Tomisaburo Iga, my dear," her uncle corrected her, his voice suddenly harsh. "Despite what he believes or thinks, he is still ours to do with as we see fit. And besides, my jewel," he added, resuming some of his normal placidity, "no one has said anything about what his role will be." "You want me to kill Kagenori, because of what he has done to members of the Iga clan," Masuko recited in her mind, the voice coming through the gem flat, a dull monotone. "But you don't have confidence in my ability to do this alone. You said you would find the right person to help me with Kagenori, and the Iga would arrange to have him -- or her -- find me. When the butterfly appeared, this would be the clue that I would be going." Her dark eyes narrowed, piercing her uncle's paler ones. "But I know what you want me to do." "Tomisaburo is a tool, a tool which has a bit of useful life in it before it must be destroyed," Shurin said placidly. "He has abilities which, combined with yours, would make you a powerful force to face Kagenori. If he survives, you will kill him. Simple, no?" "And if I survive," Masuko's thought-voice said dryly. She removed her hands from the thought-jewel, pressing them palm-to-palm and resting her chin against her clasped hands as she thought. Her eyes closed for a good minute, before she opened them and touched the jewel again. "You did not answer my question, Uncle. Why him?" "I should think with all the intrigue you've survived, dawn's light, you would figure that out on your own. Despite your affliction, you are a sharp girl. I've often thought your affliction has served you well. People assume you cannot hear as well as speak, and they say things around you they would not around others." "Quite convenient," Masuko's voice said, dripping sarcasm. Shurin raised his hands in mock frustration. "Well, if you must play the ingenue, I shall explain it thoroughly. We had planned to send Furitsu or Toshio with you, but when it became known Tomisaburo was in Generica, we saw a unique opportunity. It is well known that Tomisaburo also has a serious grudge against Kagenori, as do we, but because of our, shall we say, strained relations with the boy, we did not feel we could recruit him willingly to our cause. Not to mention," he said, reaching for a sweet curd cake on a small black plate, "it would be in our best interests if Tomisaburo did not survive this particular quest." "But why me?" Masuko asked. "Why him?" Shurin picked up a small three-pronged, silver utensil. "The only thing I have found of true value in this miserable city," he said with a wistful air. He smiled at her with a flash of black teeth. "Besides you, but you are a transplanted orchid in this garden of weeds." He toyed with the cake for a moment, before breaking off a small bite with the utensil and popping it in his mouth. "Like many in his position, Tomisaburo does not trust easily. None of us do. It's a survival skill, after all." His eyes glittered in the dim light. "Have you had time to speak with him yet?" Masuko sat back, folding her hands in her lap. She nodded, once. Shurin smiled widely. "Excellent, my heart's delight. How was he? Has he been open with you, or guarded?" Resentment filled Masuko's eyes, and she touched the thought- jewel with the lightest fingertip brush. "He told me a little about his boyhood, a little about the death of the Fujiwara." "You underestimate your own abilities, blossom. Who better to gain his trust than the very girl who was supposed to be his wife, the girl to whom he is pledged? Particularly when he has thought Masuko Hattori dead all these years." His smile widened, almost feral. "Or Masuko Iga, whichever you prefer." He wiped his fingers carefully on a small linen cloth. "Truly, you are a gifted child. Your mother's daughter, through and through. Never before have any of our agents gotten so close. He's always killed them on the spot or refused to say anything meaningful due to his suspicion. In one short evening you have learned more than we have in many years." Masuko studied her uncle for a long moment. "It was you who killed the Fujiwara, wasn't it? The story sounded familiar." Shurin shrugged in self-deprecation. "Not my best work, I admit. Let it be a lesson to you. If you recall, I told you that story to illustrate how not to perform such an operation." "I remember." Her fingers brushed the gem idly, withdrawing them as she sunk into her thoughts for a moment. Finally, she reached out a single fingertip, her other hand cupped against her chin. "So you want me to encourage his trust, have him help me kill Kanegori, and kill him if he survives." Her voice was again flat and emotionless. Shurin smiled crookedly and took another bite of his sweet cake. "The map is in the case next to the table," he said. "You may take it with you. It contains the rest of the information you need. Could not very well give you all the information and have you strike out on your own. And it would be a pity not to get one last use out of dear Tomi before his untimely demise." Masuko picked up the case, checked the contents briefly and sealed it again. She stood, checking her obi through habit. She was about to bow in parting with her uncle, but he held up his hand to stop her. "Oh, I do have a bit of news I believe you'd like to hear," Shurin said lightly. "Tanako is with child. I thought you'd be interested." Masuko schooled her features carefully, but her face turned deathly pale. She bowed quickly to her uncle and turned to hurry from the room, the scroll case clutched against her. "I will be certain to pass on your regards and good wishes, my pearl," Shurin said, with an air of wicked delight. * * * * * Masuko paused in the cool night air, pressing her back against the cold stone wall as she caught her breath. She knew Tomonobu was waiting anxiously in the carriage outside, but she closed her eyes and waited, feeling like she had just walked out of a death-trap. Tanako with child. Tanako, then of the Hideyori, the closest thing Masuko had had to a sister after the gruesome death of her Hattori sister Reiko. As an Iga child meant for placement in another household, Masuko had never known her real parents, only that she had been an only child and that her mother had died birthing her. Masuko's affiliation with the Iga clan became tenuous after she had been hidden by the Hideyori, after the slaughter of the Hattori clan by Kagenori. Her compliance had only been assured by the implied threat to Tanako's life -- that Tanako would only continue to live a normal life so long as Masuko continued to ply her talents for the Iga. In return, Masuko was a valued spy for her silence, for the reason Shurin observed: people talked freely to her and told her things valuable to the Iga. Her dear adoptive sister, pregnant. Now there was a child involved. Masuko did not doubt the Iga would make good on their threats if she refused. She hugged the scroll case, and mentally sent a heartfelt apology to Tomonobu, to Matte, and to anyone else she would have to betray. Then, she nodded once to herself and walked quietly to the front of the building to meet Tomonobu.